Private All Is Cold And All Is Dark

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

She never could recall being so cold.

On the ground, half covered in snow, the half shivering girl looked up to the clouded night sky. She was going to die after all, she only wished she could get her knife so it would be less drawn out and excruciating. Her cybernetic leg was disconnected, almost covered in snow several feet away from her. Eyes drooping, the young woman knew she had achieved what she had set out to do.

Jac'Eli'Zirem would not have to deal with her frustration and pain over him not remembering her anymore. He would not grieve her.
Shai Krayt, her Alor, would not have such an insecure weakling in her Clan, unable to even save the Wardog from wherever she was.
Vulcan Krayt would not have to worry about her anymore. He could be carefree again.
Alora Vizsla would not have to pretend to tolerate Gwyn breaking down in tears and terror of memories past and future worries. Especially during carefree tinkering projects that were meant to be fun.
Zlova Rue would not have a worthless failure for an apprentice.
Kranak Vizsla, her precious buir, would not have to put up with her outbursts, fears, drama, and ungrateful accusations anymore. He could be free to be the Si'kahya he was supposed to be. He could tend to his duties, more important than her, without feeling torn.

Her argument with Kranak, Shai's cocky smirk from before she disappeared, Eliz asking who Gwyn was again. Her biological father running cruel, excruciating tests on her. The Arkanian Academy that had enjoyed humiliating her and tearing her down. Her mother ignoring her, and shunning her when she did notice. They all swarmed in her mind, feeding her misery. Encouraging her that she had made the right decision.

She was worthless.

The galaxy was better off without her.

In the snow, she closed her eyes. Listening to the sounds of the howling wind, she felt blankets of snow drop over her frigid frame. A tear seeped out and slipped down her blueing cheek. I'm sorry...

This was the end, or so she thought.

"She's lucky those hikers found her when ee did."



"Who knew trekking through Kestri at this time was so popular?"



"She's got a fighting chance now. We're doing everything we can to help her come out of her hypothermia. Have you evaluated her belongings?"



"Only belongings she got are the clothes on her back, this drenched cybernetic leg, and this combat knife I found inside it. What the kark was this kid thinking! This is Kestri we're talking about, it's freezing!"



"Hmm, that tells us nothing about who to contact."



"Wait. Wait a second, there's an old paper shoved in this wedge in the storage compartment. It's a note."



"What's it say?"



"Reminder, tell Buir Kranak that I fixed his rifle again."



"I believe we have a lead!"

In the med bay, she was hooked to a wide array of IVs, wires, and machinery. The battle was on to pull her from the brink of death hypothermia had blanketed her in. She had been changed into the warmest clothes they could find, replacing her shirt and shorts she had previously worn. On the table on the other side of the room lay her belongings. Next to her neatly folded, drenched clothes were only two items. A cybernetic leg, resilient to water damage and needing no repairs. Next to the leg lay the only weapon she had brought with her, a combat knife.



They had called the Foundling's guardian, one Kranak Vizsla , in the dead of night reporting whom they had found, where she was now, and how she was fairing. He was most likely rushing straight over to the hospital. The girl, Gwyneira Krayt, was unconscious.

​

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Restless Yet Again​

Location: Kestri, The Kom’rk, Courtyard.
Local Time: 02:11
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Try To Get Some Shuteye
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Minus the Rifle and Scatter Gun) + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

Another sleepless night.

Another night spent in re-reading research reports recovered from Gwyn’s captors in that Manda[1] forsaken space station, months ago. Another night spent pondering where his old friend was, after her disappearance on Roon. So many questions that demanded to be answered, demanded light to be shone upon them. Could the consequences of the sickening, heart wrenching experimentations that wrecked his daughter's body be reversed? And to what extent? The body healed over time, faster with the help of medication, but what of her mental scars? And what of his old friend? His years-long comrade in arms? She was considered MIA[2] during the Maw incursion on Roon. There wasn’t a crumb of clue pointing at her whereabouts. He, like the intelligence analysts in The Enclave had been analyzing after action reports of the incursion in search of her, trying to find her whereabouts, but the search for her was yet to show any results.

The giant heaved a deep, troubled sigh as he drew the lit cigarra to his lips while his weary eyes continued to read one of the many research papers on his datapad, concerning the experimentations- no, the torture they put her through. The Arkanian scientist had noted down everything, in sickening detail.

He was denied any proper respite from his troubles, and it took its toll on him, wearing him down a little bit more with each, barely passing night.

Puffing the smoke as he drew the cigarra away from his lips and flicked the creeping ash on the ashtray, chock full of cigarra buds, the giant forced himself through the acts the Arkanian purists had put her through. He was analyzing the data for probably the hundredth time, making sure he didn’t miss any sort of physical damage that could be reverted through the use of medicine and reconditioning. As if the research papers they had written weren't bad enough for him, there were holo recordings of their experimentation sessions attached to them, too. As much as he gritted his teeth and soldiered through the pain, watching them from start to finish, he did not dare to turn on their audio. He had made the mistake of watching one with its audio turned on a dozen nights ago. He had felt her screams in her soul.

Never again.

<Maybe I would have hated my buir[3] if he failed me, too.> He thought to himself as he rubbed his brow, looking back on their argument not too long ago, the last time she saw her. The creeping ash on the cigarra tucked between his first and second knuckles, scattered in the gentle wind as he massaged his brow. He had failed to find her sooner. The damage was done. Perhaps not wholly irreversible in certain cases, but what’s done was done. His facial features began to contort with anger and sorrow. Why couldn’t he desert and go out to look for her himself, instead of hiring others to do it for him, all those months ago? He should have searched for her himself. Maybe he would have seen a clue the others had missed. Maybe he would have found her sooner.

He would never know. Whether his efforts would have amounted to nothing or not if he was out there searching for her, instead of continuing his duties within the Si’kahya[4], he would never know now. That ship had, regrettably, sailed long ago.

Stirred by the helpless rage barely contained within him, the giant stood up from the bench, stretching his legs and back as he walked slowly towards the cliff nearby with his cigarra in hand.

As much as the Wardog had told him otherwise, the night he had set out to end it all, he didn’t feel like a ‘great’ father to Gwyn. Every time, he had placed duty above family, even though both were sacred to him. For years he had bled and shed the blood of his people’s enemies, for none other than the people he swore to protect and if need be, give his life in their defense, so others didn’t have to; for the Mando’ade.

And that had seen him place duty above anything else.

It now felt wrong. All those years, he could not find the balance between the two. As much as duty was sacred, something to be honored to its fullest, family was equally as important for a Mandalorian. Family meant everything to them. They were the ones that mattered the most to you, and you to them in return. They were the ones that would honor your deeds and remember your name, even long after you had begun the long march to the Oversoul. When you were taken into the ranks of the venerable Si’kahya, the entire Mando’ade became your family.

But that never felt the same as one’s clan, or house. They paid a price in servitude. A sacrifice. And what they got in return, aside from reverence, honor and glory, was pain. How many of them couldn’t celebrate their wedding anniversaries with their beloved? How many of them couldn’t witness their foundlings, their sons and daughters, whether adopted or not, pass their verd’goten with their own eyes?

They were robbed of some of the things that kept many going. Things that were the reason for the many that still continued to draw breath and wake up the next morning. But what could they do about it, really? They had signed up for this, willingly, after all.

“Maybe that’s why you quit.” the giant thought out loud with a slow, understanding nod; his voice almost swept away by the gentle wind. His second in command, the Wardog, had given her official resignation from the ranks of the Si’kahya several months before she went missing in the battle waged on Roon.

Leaning on the steel railing by the cliff, the giant’s weary, dark brown eyes blankly stared off into the dancing lights of the city in the distance. Raising the cigarra to his lips to take a puff at the smoke, the giant, lost in thought, would be pulled back into reality upon hearing a familiar buzz coming from the bench behind him. Looking over his right shoulder with the butt of the cigarra a few inches before his lips, the giant laid eyes upon the glowing visor of his buy’ce.

Someone was calling him over his private comlink.

Chucking the cigarra off the cliff with the flick of his fingers, the giant walked towards the bench, and grabbed his helmet. Slipping it on, the giant answered the incoming call. He did not recognize the number, nor was he expecting a call from anyone at the time. <”Yes?”> the giant answered in mild surprise.

“Hello, I am calling from the Tor Valum Medical Center. Am I speaking with Kranak Vizsla?” The masculine voice on the other end of the call spoke in a professional manner, with a monotonous voice.

The giant’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was going on? <”Yes, that’s me.”> he answered, confirming he was the individual the man was looking for. His eyes widened in shock as the man informed him of the situation regarding Gwyn. His mind went blank for a moment, although he processed what was going on, he took a moment to shrug off the initial shock, falling silent for a few seconds. <”I’m… I’m on my way.”> was all he could say when the man finished. With haste, the giant sprinted through the courtyard to his speeder bike in the parking lot of the base.

Sprinting past the main gate and the sentries on guard duty, the Alor’ad[5] reached it in just under forty five seconds. The keys inserted into its ignition, the vehicle’s engine sparkled to life with a mechanical hum as he turned the key. Revving its powerful engine, the giant took to the frozen, snow covered roads, with a streak of snow and ice trailing behind him as he drove to the hospital in Tor Valum with all haste.

​

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, Tor Valum Medical Center, Emergency Room
Local Time: 02:27
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Make Sure Gwyn Is Alright
Secondary Objective: N/A

The speeder bike came to a grinding halt, thirty or so meters away from the hospital’s emergency room entrance. Wasting no time, the giant hopped off the speeder swiftly; the key still in the ignition, with the engine still purring like a gurrcat. Having been informed of the room she was admitted to in the hospital during the call, it didn’t take long for the giant to find her. Walking at a brisk pace, passing by hospital personnel and other patients, the giant came across her room, with a pair of doctors outside just exiting her room. <”Has her status improved?”> The giant asked with a commanding voice as he drew nearer with each hasty step, afraid of the worst coming to pass. The pair of doctors spoke as the giant came to a halt in front of them, towering over both of them.

“Her situation is improving slightly, but still critical.” The giant’s head snapped at her as she filled him in on the situation. The giant remained silent, listening to what the doctors had to say without uttering a word.

“We’re doing everything we can. If the pair of hikers hadn’t found her…” The giant’s glowing white visor shifted to the other doctor as he spoke. Closing his eyes shut behind the glowing visor, the giant tried not to imagine her lying unmoving on Kestri’s frozen landscape, with her soul leaving her body. Opening his eyes and focusing on the now, he gave a curt nod of his head at the pair, and looked frightened at his daughter over their heads. She was bundled up in clothing and thermal blankets, with an array of IV’s and wires hooked up to her. She was still in critical condition. She wasn’t out of it yet.

“A nurse will be checking on her frequently to monitor her condition,” she said, as she looked up at the Vizsla before him. Nodding without shifting his gaze away from his unconscious daughter, the giant’s lips finally parted to mutter a word. <”Thank you.”> Removing his crushgaunts and tucking them inside an empty pouch on his chest rig, the giant stepped into the room slowly as the doctors left to tend to other patients in silence, leaving him alone with his daughter. Approaching her, the giant stood next to the hospital bed she laid on for a few moments, trying to take it all in. Several moments passed in silence; only the monotonous beeping of the holter monitor disturbed the silence.

<”Why, child?”> he muttered tristfully, after several moments passing in silence. Tears began to slowly well up, with the lump in his throat growing steadily with each passing moment. The memories of her rescue; the helpless, tortured and weak state she was in, was still fresh in his mind.

She had set about taking her own life. There was no other way of explaining this. Why else would she wander in Kestri’s cold without insulated clothing? But… What had led to this? What was the final straw? He didn’t assume she would take Shai’s absence so badly. No. Perhaps this was a build-up of a multitude of things. Maybe the primary reason behind it was the mental scars she was forced to withstand under the captivity of those Arkanian purists.

Was this why she had secluded herself from him and others for the past two weeks? Building up the courage to…

The answer didn’t present itself to him so easily. Maybe he had missed the telltale signs of the changes in her behavior that eventually led to… this. Anger welled up within him as he reached for a chair nearby; did he fail her yet again?

Whatever caused this, he knew he had to purge the anger within him that he harbored for himself, and focus on the present, focus on Gwyn. Setting the chair beside her bed, the giant sat down slowly, and removed his helmet. His buy’ce depressurized with a soft hiss as he removed the helmet; the glowing white visor plunged into an obsidian black as he set the helmet on the bedside table to his right.

“Buir’s here, sweetheart,” he whispered as he held her hand gently with one hand, and lovingly caressed her cheek with the other. “You are not alone, child, I am here for you.”

He was by her side, and would remain with her, waiting patiently for her to regain consciousness, no matter how long that would take.

​

Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Manda = Collective soul, heaven. Mandalorian Oversoul.
[2] MIA = Missing In Action.
[3] Buir = Father.
[4] Si’kahya = Shield and sword of the Enclave. Elite warriors, sworn to enforce the Enclave’s will with dedication, loyalty and prowess in combat.
[5] Alor’ad = Captain.

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

She awoke to the sounds of beeping and machinery. A familiar sound. A terrible sound. Wait, had Manda cast her to Chaos to be punished for her wretchedness? Tormented the way her father had tormented her? Panic whelled up. The beeping of the heart monitor greatly increased as her eyes flew open. She was in a medical bay, but it was far from infected with the dark side. It was just... a hospital room. An ordinary hospital room. Where was she? She was supposed to have died! The realization that she was unfortunately alive came to her as she felt her hand and cheek being caressed. Force Sense told her what her eyes did not have to. Kranak Vizsla , her buir, was right next to her.

No. No, it was not supposed to go like this! She winced, eyes darting anywhere but her buir's face. No! Why did she have to face him again! He was supposed to be free of the ungrateful brat he called his daughter now!

She looked up at the ceiling, tears building up. They streamed down her cheek as she struggled with her next move. She was starting to feel her own body again, cold and weak. She would not be able to move again. Not yet. It seemed that she was forced to confront her father. Manda forbid she purposefully ignore him! She did not want him to be grieved by her selfishness any longer.

She closed her eyes, taking in a shaky deep breath. She... opened her mouth.

It was hard to speak at first, but she managed to get the words out. Her voice was timid and somber, ashamed and subdued. Her lips, which were finally starting to regain some color, opened.

"Buir... I'm sorry."

Her tears doubled, a bad thing for the medics attempting to cure her dehydration.

"You shouldn't have to be forced to choose. I shouldn't stand in the way of what's important to you. I was selfish, I-" Her body throbbed from her sob, "-I was ungrateful and I yelled at you."

She closed her eyes, sighing, "You deserve better than me. I'm un-unworth-y of being your al'ika..."

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

The Price We Pay​

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, Tor Valum Medical Center, Emergency Room
Local Time: 07:17
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Make Sure Gwyn Is Alright
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Minus the Rifle and Scatter Gun) + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

Minutes were quick to turn into hours as the giant sat next to her bed; it was getting difficult to stay awake, with the ever present sweet invitation of slumber growing more and more irresistible and insisting with each passing moment. But the giant stoically refused, keeping his eyes open and occupying himself with something, like pacing back and forth in the room from time to time to keep himself awake; waiting patiently for his daughter to regain her consciousness; praying to Manda[1] in silence to grant her the strength to regain her health. It was all he could do for now.

Wait and pray.

Let the doctors and the medicine do their work, and pray that she wins the battle waged on her soul; praying that she evades Death’s firm grasp.

She was a warrior. Seeing that -no, having reminded that fact once again, he took pride in that, and it gave him hope. She fought back Death that crept up on her, pushed Him back every time He made an attempt at her soul. With every passing moment, her condition improved; slowly, or even imperceivable at first it may have been,, her condition had drastically improved as time passed. She was in a critical state no longer.

Resting his head on his hands, with his daughter’s hand still within his gentle grasp, the Alor’ad’s[2] gaze fell onto the floor, lost in thought as his daughter began to show the telltale signs of slowly regaining consciousness. A familiar, deep, shaky breath pulled him back into the hospital room from his troubles. The heavy, somniferous blanket knitted over him by tempting slumber was cast away at an instant. His eyes widened, the giant’s gaze turned immediately to his daughter. She was awake! Unimaginable, and much needed relief settled into his mind, forgetting his troubles for a moment. The Vizsla smiled ear to ear, deeply thankful to the doctors and the Manda for saving her from the opportunist clutches of death. She did not begin his long march to the Oversoul.

Not today! And Manda willing, not in his lifetime.

”Kid!" He rejoiced, overjoyed to see her awake and healthy. But alas, he would be stripped from his joy a moment after. He noticed the glistening tears slowly flowing down her pale white cheeks and to her chin. Her eyes were closed shut. Her lips parted a few moments after, seemingly gathered the strength, or perhaps mustered the courage to speak.

”Buir… I’m sorry.”

Her tears doubled, a bad thing for the medics attempting to cure her dehydration.

”You shouldn’t have to be forced to choose. I shouldn’t stand in the way of what’s important to you. I was selfish, I-” Her body throbbed from her sob, ”-I was ungrateful and I yelled at you.”

She closed her eyes, sighing, “You deserve better than me. I’m un-unworth-y of being your adi’ka…”​

Shocked, her words damned him. He could not believe she thought she was unworthy of being his foundling, of being his daughter. But what damned him more than her words was the fact that it was his actions that led them here. If he hadn’t volunteered to bet a Si’kahya[3], maybe this would not have happened at all. Or maybe, if he had made more time for family instead of solely focusing on serving the people, getting sent to deployments that took him light years away from home, he could have spent more time with his daughter; he could have trained her more frequently, he could have strengthened their bond further.

But that didn’t happen. He had failed her.

Was this the price he was forced to pay for his servitude today? And what would be demanded of him to sacrifice tomorrow?

A doleful expression was quick to settle onto his scarred face as she spoke, but it was replaced with a warm, genuine and affectionate smile emerged as fast as the former. He could not show her sorrow. She was in dire need of his care and understanding.

“If there is anyone in this room that should be sorry, it’s me, child.” He said, extending a hand towards her to caress her snow white hair; her hand remained within her gentle grasp of the giant's other hand, still. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he spoke softly as he affectionately stroked her hair. He would continue to speak only after his dark brown eyes met the pair of amber pupils. “You are what’s important to me, more than anything you can imagine I hold dear to my soul,” Tears slowly began to well up as he spoke. Swallowing the lump building up in his throat with a soft, muffled gulp, the giant continued. “Your every deed brings me pride and joy. You are my sun, adi’ka[4]. You are my pride, my joy, my daughter.” The giant leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on her brow. Pulling himself back and sitting on his chair once more, the giant continued; his heartwarming smile growing ever bright. “Do you really think the setting sun would rise for me for another day if you were gone?” In a soft tone, the giant raised her a rhetorical question. He shook his head slowly before he continued. He did not wait for a reply, already knowing her answer. “You were the missing piece in my soul I was not aware I lacked, until the day you walked into my life.” He had never, not even for a second, regretted taking her as a foundling under his care. Never had, and never would. She was his legacy, his future; future of both Clan Krayt and House Vizsla. She meant the whole galaxy to both him and the house.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for my shortcomings as a father,” he said, leaning forward to embrace her. Wrapping his arms around his daughter, the Vizsla hugged her softly; pulling her into his warm embrace as he closed his eyes shut, pushing back his tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better father to you, adi’ka.” he whispered, with genuine sorrow.

​

Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Manda = Collective Mandalorian Oversoul, heaven.
[2] Alor’ad = Captain.
[3] Si’kahya = Shield and Sword of the Enclave. Elite warriors, sworn to enforce the Enclave’s will with dedication, loyalty and prowess in combat.
[4] Adi’ka = Little one, Son/Daughter. Of any age.

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

darn double posting!

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Confusion.

Gwyneira felt confusion.

He was apologizing to her? What? He gently caressed her hair, tenderly held her hand. He told her something that pierced deep, penetrating her very soul. She was what he treasured most. She was his top priority. He loved her! He had not even felt whole until he met her... Her tears doubled as he kissed her forehead, then pulled her into a hug. Then, he told her not to blame herself for his shortcomings.

Everything she wanted. All she desired. Love. He... he actually loved her. The confirmation, the declaration. She closed her eyes as sobs vibrated from her body. For the first time in ages, she actually felt truly loved.

She flung her arms over the Giant. She hugged him tightly, the best she could in her current state. Feeling something other than loneliness, rejection, and misery, she clung to him. All the rejoicing, forgiveness, and affection she felt were muttered in one, heartfelt word. The acceptance of the apology, the owning of their familial bond. The power of one million words wrapped into four beautiful letters.

"Buir..."

She held him as long as she could. Despite wearing his beskar'gam, he felt warm. It felt warm. Way warmer than the bitter cold of Kestri, wrapping her in snow and leaving her alone. In Kranak's arms, she never wanted to go back there again. Yet, as weakness took her and she slipped back onto the bed, some frost returned.

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

Eliz...

She was limp on the hospital bed, exhaustion taking her once again. The agony tearing her apart, leaving her trembling with despair. Yet, unlike the last time she and Kranak spoke, she did not feel completely alone anymore. She had to talk to him, explain her sorrows.

"I'm tired." She whispered, tears falling again. She looked up to Kranak Vizsla with raw brokenheartedness and eternal exhaustion, "I'm so tired... I can't bear it anymore..."

She closed her eyes. The Hunter's emotionless expression haunted her. The fact that someone who had impacted her so devastatingly had completely forgotten her face. The rejection of her that hurt as much as her own biological parents'. She was experiencing the feelings of being disowned all over again, and by the person who had first loved and cared for her. No, this hurt even more than her parents...

"He doesn't recognize me. He forgot all about me." Another sob, "He had no idea who I was, after everything..."

She turned her head away, grimacing. More tears stained the hospital pillow, "E-Eliz is someho-ow alive, I met him-m on th' Vhi-i-i-ip-irheimm." She gritted her teeth, then snarled, "But he remembers nothing!"

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

The Things We Carry​

Location: Kestri, Tor Valum, Tor Valum Medical Center, Emergency Room
Local Time: 07:19
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Make Sure Gwyn Is Alright
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 1 (Minus the Rifle and Scatter Gun) + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

As the Vizsla gently wrapped his arms around his daughter and pulled her into warm, loving embrace, a single glistening tear slowly streamed down the deep knife scar running down from over the bridge of his nose to his right cheek as her soft, heart wrenching sobs and whimpers pierced his soul. He closed his eyes shut as the young one wrapped her arms around him, returning his loving embrace in kind, hugging him as tightly as she possibly could.

It proved to be difficult not to break into tears for the giant, even more so when the kid sincerely delivered such a simple yet beautiful, unbelievably impactful word with a soft mutter in between her sobs, accepting her father’s genuine apology, forgiving him for his shortcomings as a father.

"Buir..."

The giant’s embrace tightened ever so slightly in silent response, careful not to squeeze her too tightly and hurt her. The giant shifted a hand from her back and softly grasped the back of her head, caressing her hair with a fatherly affection. His right temple rested gently with hers. The two would remain in each other's embrace for a time, until the Vizsla would feel her gently slip back, her embrace slowly fading away. She gradually grew weary from the posture, still under the process of making a full recovery. Feeling her need to lie down on her hospital bed once more, the giant softly pulled himself back, his tender embrace fading away.

Sitting back on his chair as he turned his head away, pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his brow, the pair of dark brown eyes closed shut at the moment. He tried to wipe away and push back the tears building up in his eyes as his daughter’s gaze turned to him. Her weak voice was barely little more than a whisper.

"I'm tired." She whispered, tears falling again. She looked up to Kranak Vizsla with raw brokenheartedness and eternal exhaustion, "I'm so tired... I can't bear it anymore..."

Continuing to massage his brow, the giant silently nodded, his attention unwavering off his daughter, listening to her carefully. He fully understood how she felt. The weight a Mandalorian carried over their shoulders, although immaterial it may be, was far heavier than the heaviest possible ruck, weighing them down, making it difficult to take the next step, and march onwards.

And it only got heavier as they got older.

Only in death were they truly spared from carrying that weight around, the burden of their deeds; the pain, suffering and agony they carried in their soul, accumulated over a lifetime. It was one reason why they trained, trained and trained. Not just physically but mentally, too. A disciplined mind was a strong mind. A sharp and strong mind was key for survival, and that wasn’t just limited to only in battle. Although they all had breaking points – naturally, just like any other sentient being, they had no choice but to toughen themselves up and prepare for the suffering that awaited them in their life as a Mandalorian.

Their way of life was a very harsh and unforgiving one.

"He doesn't recognize me. He forgot all about me." Another sob, "He had no idea who I was, after everything..."

His eyes opened slowly as she spoke, quizzically looking at the pair of reddened, puffy amber eyes. Who was the man in question? Who did not recognize her? All would be made clear in the next few seconds, as she would reveal the individual’s identity. A name that would rekindle many memories, both pleasant and painful. A lad he regarded as his son. A young kid he had taken under his wing, until his demise on that Manda[1] forsaken rock, Panatha.

She turned her head away, grimacing. More tears stained the hospital pillow, "E-Eliz is someho-ow alive, I met him-m on th' Vhi-i-i-ip-irheimm." She gritted her teeth, then snarled, "But he remembers nothing!"

He was left agape by the revelation. Eliz? but he had fallen in combat so long ago! How did he survive? Was he alright? How did news of his condition, his whereabouts not reach him before? Where was his current whereabouts now? Was he still aboard The Vhipirheim? What did she mean “he remembers nothing”?

So many questions popped up in his mind, but his daughter’s sobbing would pull him from mulling further, recovering quickly from the bewilderment caused by the completely unexpected revelation. Silently, the giant muttered a short mantra, praying for the Wardog before he spoke to his daughter. The old girl had saved him from doing something very stupid that fateful night.

Life, no matter how difficult it got to live on, was worth living nevertheless.

“Cyar’ika,[2]” the giant said, in a soothing tone. Waiting for her to look at him, he would continue once the pair of amber eyes would meet his gaze. “One problem at a time, dear. Nothing’s more important than your well being now,” he said with a warming smile, reaching for her left hand. “We will get through this together,” the Vizsla said as he caressed her hand with one hand, and reached for a comlink from one of his pouches on his chest rig with the other. “I must make a few calls now, and you need to get some rest,” he said, as he shot a glance at the window a few feet beside the hospital bed. The sun had risen over Tor Valum a few hours ago, lightly shining into the room, through the clean, snow white curtains. Gazing back at his daughter again, the giant kindly turned her palm upward, and placed the comlink device in her palm. Gently curling her pale white appendages over the device, he balled her hand into a fist. “I will only be a call away. I’ll be in the courtyard, just outside.” The giant said, still smiling. She needed time and sleep to recover fully, let the medicine do its work. And for that, she needed to be left alone, for a while.

Slowly standing up, the giant leaned forward towards his daughter, pressing a kiss on her brow. Pulling back a moment later, the giant stood straight, reached for his buy’ce[3] from the bedside table to his right, and slipped on the helmet. The white glimmering visor sparkled to life. Walking towards the open door, the giant halted a few feet before the doorway, and glanced at his daughter over the black command pauldron over his left shoulder. <”Rest, adi’ka[4].”> He said, raising a kind, caring, yet assertive exhortation to his kid before walking out the room.

​

Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Manda = Collective soul or heaven.
[2] Cyar’ika = Darling, sweetheart
[3] Buy’ce = Helmet.
[4] Adi’ka = Little one, son/daughter. Lad/lass.