Private Alor Meeting on Vlemoth Port

[Adi'ka Awaud]

"Snoigit, Cheekee Kee", Broontak the Talz chirped sleepy and a little bit piqued as Ad'ka Awaud jumped out of the bed in the Vheh'yaime of the four eyed scout.

"Awww, honey-proboscis, you know, I expect my father and a Mandalorian sister coming", the slender and small Lepi said as she picked up her helmet laying next to the round bed.
A red light was flashing rhythmically.

"It is really important to answer this call. Love you!" She blew an air kiss in his direction and the four eyelids squinted over the large black eyes, as the Talz rolled his proboscis to a spiral to show his scepticism.
He chirped something again. Adi'ka answered: "Not true! And unfair too! I always come back, and I do not count your lovers!"

Then she put her helmet on and walked out of the Vheh'yaime, the classic Mandalorian fortified home. The vista of taiga and tundra was grandiose. She enjoyed the cold wind in her white fur as she stood on the plains of the Northern continent of Vlemoth Port, the traditional refugee of Clan Awaud.

Broontak the Talz was a Mandalorian like her, one of the Aliens who took the armour and the oath. But he was more the planet dweller and not the Sky jockey like the Lepi.
He has built this home for himself, but liked the visits of his capricious small girlfriend.
She came and went suddenly and wild like the winter gales, he always said. It was her way. Broontak respected that. Both loved their freedom like all of Clan Awaud.

"Adi'ka Awaud speaking? Who is calling? Over!"


Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

From Corellia to Ord Lethe, to Kad-Stor to Vlemoth Port. From cantinas to mutants, forlorn asteroid stations to frozen tundras of the north. On this planet of Vlemoth, the Mandalorian Clan Awaud had found refuge, and the winds that bit against their helmets were like an ocean’s spit to a ship.

No current, no wind, was too perilous for these Lepi, as one of their descendants had since proven. Adi’ka Awaud had toured the fortress of Kad-Stor, Clan Praxor’s refuge after Mandalore, and that was a favor that would today be returned; for there were more than two clans to pave a future for, by the hammer and the anvil of the forge.

“This is your mother,” a Human called over the comm to the Lepi who had beckoned her attention. “Coming home to make sure you washed the dishes, fed the fishes and built me an army worthy for Mandalore.”

She gave it a second but, respond or not, Casany promptly moved on.

“I’m in the pipe. Five by five.”

From the sky, her ship moved in, as as bidden. That Firespray gunship with its name of Hammer for the captain’s signet, and hers was a black anvil. Nestled on her left pauldron, her helmeted head leaned in that direction within her cockpit as Cas took her ship to the surface of the planet.

“Casany of Clan Praxor, here to light the furnace of the future with these talks, vod.”

After all, Mandalorian’s couldn’t get anything done if they just constantly fought. Here more than two had an opportunity to pave the way for a new future for their clans, Awaud and Praxor, but maybe…more? Maybe even uj cake.

Finding purchase on a surface worth its position for her ship, Cas would ultimately defer to Adi to lead as she exited her Hammer after lowering the ramp. No matter what the weather, her red cloak over red gold beskar'gam did well to aid her.

"Su'cuy, Adi'ka Awaud."

Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

The slender Mandalorian Lepi saw the classic Firespray descending as she answered happily: "Roger that! Make short approach! You have numbers! Wind in NO and 8! Cleared to land!"

She darted into the Vheh'yaime to do the rest of her armor. Her hulking lover was also up in the meantime and an amrorer droid was helping him into his heavy modified beskar.

"Nadala!", the fourslitted helmet translated the chirping speech of the Taalz into understandable Mando'a, meaning "Hot!" as he saw the Lepi only clad in a helmet, her silky white fur windswept by the icy tundra gale.

Instinctively, her short bunny tail twitched as she heard the compliment. "No time for that now!", she said, as she slipped into her armor.
Hundreds of years have gone by since the days of old, and the modern armors of the Mandalorian were in many cases now more semiautonomous power armors than just protective plates.

Adi'ka was nervous. Would her vod like her mate? Brontak was dear to her and more than a toy boy but a real friend. As Casany has joked being her mother, something deep in the small lagomorph was moved. She had been a delinquent youth criminal, with more time in juvenile penitentiary than at home. Now adopted into Mandalorian culture, she actually missed a Mandalorian mother figure.
The experienced Casany had been like an elder sister to her in the time they spent together, and she actually liked that very much.

As the Hammer landed on the tundra beside her own Krayt gunship, she walked to the snow covered field. A black, shining figure in all the white. "Su cuy'gar, vod!", she greeted Casany and suppressed her urge to jump and wave like a kid. She had to be cool like her older sister!

Just at this moment the high cloud were torn by a mighty shape. 1200 meters of Beskar alloyed blocky military might cast a shadow on the tundra below.
The roaring of the mighty engines holding the ship in place thundered even over the sound of the howling winds.
Shrieking wings of escorting fighter squadrons howled past the giant destroyer.

The Keldabe class ship Akalenedat has arrived.

"Dad!" Adi'ka wispered.

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Casany didn’t leap, didn’t run, didn’t spring for a hug; didn’t speak, didn’t express whatever she may be thinking, but just walked forward from her ramp across the snow and toward her vod whose excitement knows no stops.
Good. That’s how Adi’s vod would have it. Adi was an energetic bunny, as she herself would freely admit, but she was no funny buddy. Fun, yes, but Adi’ka Awaud was as Mandalorian as her clan and its namesake; as Clan Praxor, as Mandalore.

However, neither woman held the bells of beskar quite like that ship overhead did. Casany Praxor had her iron in her spirit, her blood, her armor, and her Hammer was a ship for a Mandalorian, but that destroyer above her was a juggernaut.

Mandalorian battleship. There was of course more than one in existence yet, spying it with her naked eye from this distance, as a relatively reclusive Mandalorian bounty hunter who never served with the ranks of war’s warriors, Casany Praxor saw the Akalenedat as much as her future.

“Hard Contact,” she whispered. "Let's hope that sentiment doesn't extent to meeting Alor Praxor for the first time, right?" She japed behind her helmet, looking Adi's way; but her tone would not disguise the fire inside her; that notion that another Mandalorian was coming, a brother, the father of her sister, and that was its own honor.

Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Jurr Awaud]

From the hangars of the mighty capital ship, the Mandalorians designed in the old days to be equal or even surpass Star Destroyers, a lonely advanced and retrofitted Kom'rk
started. Even the shuttles of Clan Awaud were dangerous gunships, it seemed.

No fighters joined the descending ship. The subtle message in this was clear for Mandalorians. The security of the capital ship with her thousands of crewmen had priority over one ship, even if it was the ship of the alor.
And that the alor could protect himself well enough and needed no babysitters like a pampered Galactic or Imperial command officer.

The sleek Kom'rk landed beside the two gunboats. A drop chute for attacking jetpack marines opened and a man in green and golden armor, the colors of duty and vengeance, jumped on the icy field below. With in the wind flattering half cape and Kama he walked to the two women.
He was surrounded by a flair of authority and self-confidence.

Of course, he greeted Adi'ka first. She was family! Other cultures would be diplomatic or polite and greet the stranger or in this case higher ranked warrior first.
Not so the Mandalorians. Family first, clan second, allies third, all others last.
He laid his hand on the small shoulders, get on one knee to be on eye level and gave Adi'ka a soft helmet butt. "Su cuy'gar, ad!" His voice was deep, used to commands, but a soft and caring undertone was in it, as he addressed his foster daughter.

Then he stood again and looked at Casany. "Su cuy'gar, alor Praxor! I am Jurr Awaud, alor of Clan Awaud and proud father of this esteemed warrior who wanted this meeting. I am listening. This is the way."

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Dromons. The thought crossed her mind as she watched. The warships of the Mandalorians. From the Akalenedat to the Kom’rk, the vessels of the Mando’ade were their way of paving conquest, as was anyone’s, only the sons and daughters of Mandalore were born for it. In the fires. In the forges.

From the sky comes the Kom’rk. Descending from the capital ship, like beskar’gam and jetpack descending from the belly of the beast, trailing flames of fury the whole way down to the ground. Casany just stood watching, listening to the wind whipping in defiance against the trees, branches dancing as the ship came in for a Mandalorian landing. But just one.

Gold and green. The former color was hers—gold—for vengeance was her familiar. Duty was no less solid a pact for a Mandalorian to sport on their ‘gam. Duty was easily seen with this other Mandalorian as he approached his daughter and they joined helmets in the way some might hug. Family. Family was everything.

“Su’cuy, Alor Jurr of Clan Awaud,” offered Alor Praxor. She neglected the helmet greeting and simply extended her right hand for a hearty forearm shake. “This is the way.”

Her visor was up, her voice was collected, yet Jurr could surely see and hear the fire within her as a Force-user can sense another. This meeting had been called as much for fire as for a forge.

“Speaking of ways…” She looked left, looked right. “Which way to the cantina?” She was only being half-amusing considering that, though they were all Mandalorian warriors, it seemed to her a better conversation to have under a ceiling with food and drink.

Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Her father took the forearm of Casany and shook it firmly.
Adi'ka answered the thirsty question. "We could be guests in my kar'taylir Broontaks home, but I think the good, old Sheb Niktose cantina in Arumorut would be better."

The alor nodded. "Would be good to see how the exclave do. Kar'taylir Darasuum, I hope?"
"Daaaaad! You embarrass me before my vod!"

But both were laughing, as it would be an old joke in their family. "We take my ship", Jurr Awaud said finally. "Fastest of the three and with much troop space for all of us. Sit up and do not forget your kar'taylir, ad!"

'"Elek, alor!" Adi'ka saluted and sprinted to fetch Broontak. Together they came back and entered the Kom'rk.
The Talz was clad in white armor and white kama and camouflage cape. A perfect hunter in the icy wilds of Vlemoth Port.
"Alors", he greeted Jurr Awaud and Casany Praxor and even the computerized translator could not hide the awe of the young Mandalorian in the presence of two mighty warlords.

Jurr Awaud nodded and took his forearm as if they were equals. The giant Talz seemed to grew even larger with pride. Many young Talz enlisted in the Mandalorian militia during the infection crisis.

But soon the kom'kr thundered over the plains, forests and mountains of the pristine world toward the settlement of Arumorut.
In the many centuries after the Clone Wars, this town has grown much. Still mostly a giant cluster of isolated farmsteads, it was now a population center rivaling the capital of the planet that had suffered by the infection crisis in recent history. The Mandalorian exclave on the other hand had weathered the attack, being practically a collection of many small fortresses.
Even a small spaceport has been developed out of the old landing fields. A great trench surrounded the entire settlement to stop the mindless infected should a new outbreak come, and a maze of high elevated bridges connected the biggest Vheh'yaime.

Among these new changes and prosperity, a centuries old cantina still stood. The Sheb Niktose with its old sign with the Mandalorian spanking a Nikto.
Many heads and helmets turned to the door as the four so diverse Mandalorians entered.

Jurr Awaud went to an alcove and sat at a table. As the others followed, he shouted: "Tihaar for all! To the Manda!"
All Mandalorians regardless of sect, faction, political or philosophical inclination could agree on this toast.

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Glad to find her fellow Mandalorian was as enthusiastic about a more laidback environment, Casany couldn’t help but emit a little chuckle at Adi’s embarrassment. Turned out all three were laughing together.

“Tal, tracyn bal kar'taylir,” she exchanged as they made way to take the fastest ship of the three. That Kom’rk-class promise to deliver them to a cantina for food, drink and Mandalorian merriment as much as future promises.

Arriving in town, Casany was further impressed by how Clan Awaud had a home that was no mere hovel in a corner of the forest. She felt her heart lift, as if given to those promises all over again; to a hope of what might be for her and her clan, for Praxor, for Kad-Stor. Yet she had little time to wonder as they finally arrived at the cantina.

She made sure to promptly pause beneath the sign before the door. A Mandalorian spanking a Nikto. “Think I came to the right place.” Inside, the Praxor gave it a moment after the Awaud’s toast, looking around the room to take in faces that took in her own. Whether they were helmeted, visored like hers, naked faces, whatever the case, they were all Mandalorians, and that's what was important.

“Mhi Mando'ade!” She lifted her drink high to the sky, yes, beyond the ceiling, toward the stars, toward Mandalorians far apart, and toasted simply. “THIS is the way!”

Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Jurr Awaud]

To drink his Tihaar Jurr Awaud had to remove his helmet. Beneath it, there was the face of a middle-aged man, till handsome in a rough way, with gray streaked formerly blond hair and strikingly blue eyes. The air of authority was still there, even emphasized by the stern face that was surprisingly soft as he looked at his alien foster child, who also raised her glass high and even stood on the table for this toast.

He turned to address Casany after she finished her drink. "My daughter said you have a hidden stronghold of your clan and too few Mandalorians to crew it."
Right to the point, like true Mandalorians were. And Adi'ka seemed to have not spilled the beans even to her beloved dad how few or better said only one woman of her clan actually crewed her station.

"Here in Arumut are many clans welcome if they hold the peace. Perhaps there would be even some of your clan or some who have contacts to your scattered members. Clan Awaud would help to establish such contact.
Adi'ka hinted your stronghold could provide much needed service to our ragtag nomad fleet. I would appreciate a tom, an alliance, of Clan Awaud and Clan Praxor.

We are both those who work and kept in the past the supply lines open, while others sought only glory and needless death in pointless battles.
We could slowly rebuild what the other clans neglected."

He glanced into the distance in the direction where his battleship was. "We have so many foundlings. Orphans of war left behind by the careless other clans, the factions of the mind-ticks and their puppet nations. We could share them with your clan if they would want that. All for the children. You are not a good alor if you only keep the ash of the past and caring for the flame of the future."

He looked her right into the eyes: "A tom would make our clans strong and help them survive. Too many clans are only memories in songs or degenerated into worthless dar'manda. Let us revive ours and join forces."

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

To drink her Tihaar Casany Praxor had to remove her helmet. Beneath it, there was the face of an adult woman, early middle ages after a fashion, with looks in her visage if with scars to mar the skin. To a warrior like her, however, they were worn as badges of honor.
Removing the helmet, cradling it at her hip, a long braid of brown hair whipped around her shoulders before hanging over one. Her eyes were hazel, brighter in the light, but amid her countenance was the expression of a woman with as much determination as celebration.

The face behind Jurr’s helmet was of no less strength; a man with his own pledge, as far as Praxor could see it within Awaud’s eyes, hear it in his voice and sense it in his mind—after an expression. That was good. She needed someone who would listen as much as guide.

Tom. Alliance. Things were already moving quickly amid speech as Casany had admittedly expected with Adi back in Kad-Stor. Clan Praxor with Clan Awaud would not unlock the galaxy’s artillery but neither family was currently looking to conquer the universe—not yet, anyway.

No, this bond might pave the way for building a better tomorrow for both clans, whether the Praxors were restored hand in hand and turned their former fortress into a land for more clans as the Awauds had.

Jurr continued, Cas listened, shifting her gaze between the face of this man and the drink in her hand. Their gazes met again, and he could see, and she could see, that same strength. You are not a good alor if you only keep the ash of the past and caring for the flame of the future. The words echoed in her head straight to her bone.

“Our forces,” Casany Praxor began, tone so certain. “Remain to be determined. However, if I can find those of my clan, the Praxors of before, as you've suggested…” She trailed off, maybe hesitating, but determined not to show doubt on her face, for Praxor wasn't so frail. Showing only how proud she was to share their presence as a Mandalorian. “...Then we shall discuss further the future.”

She stepped forward, raised her right fist, pressed it against Jurr Awaud’s left pauldron. “And remind the galaxy why we fight.”

All in good time, of course. For now, Casany simply had to find at least one more Praxor in this galaxy…

Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Jurr Awaud]

"I think I could help in finding more people of your clan. Actually it would be pretty easy." Jurr grabbed the slender shoulder of his daughter, who was involved in a bragging contest with some other young Mandalorians. "Bring me Goffanon!"
"Oya, alor!", Adi'ka saluted and jumped to her feet and sprinted out of the cantina.
A few drinks and some told stories later, she returned, a man in bulky red armor and two foundlings with the training helmets of the youth in tow. All three wore the apron kamas of the amrorer guild of the Mandalorians. All three had the sacred hammer and tong at the girdle.

The brooding dark red light of the forge surrounded the strong man, and the bright shining light of the fire above the heating vents was the aura of the foundlings. Casany's special view revealed a resonance with her own aura. A familiarity she thought long-lost.

"Su'cuy, Casany Praxor", he said. "Name is Goffanon. Wandering smith for licensed material of the Mandal Hypernautics Corporation. These two are my apprentices, Sig Xant and Niamh Morr. Both are born Clan Praxor, skilled with hammer and tong in the smithy and in close combat."

The shorter of the foundlings tilted the helmet. A female voice was heard. "You are our alor? I thought all of our clan died?" Casany sensed sceptisism, but also hope in the girl.

The master smith drew in lightning fast movement his hammer and punch the hilt into the helmet of the apprentice. A clear beskar ringinn echoed through the cantina. "Do not question the claim of an alor, if you're not ready to challenge her! Is that clear, young Niamh? Should I reconsider my praise, how good you are in our ways?"

"No, sir!" the girl called Niamh shouted. "Sorry, alor!" she said to Casany.
The other apprentice nodded and before his visor a hologram with projected sentences in Aurabesh appeared. I am Sig Xant, alor. Also orphan of your clan. I recognize your leadership.

The girl Niamh added: "He cannot speak, alor. After ... the defeat, the Zygerrians captured him. He lost his voice as a slave, before Master Gofffanon freed him."

I am a Mandalorian. I speak with hammer and tong. My deeds speak for me.

Both kids stood proud before the astonished Casany, waiting for her response.

Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music OOC

At first, it was all Casany Praxor could do to stand there. Helmet at her hip, her other hand with a drink in it, that colorless alcohol spirit of the Mandalorians. A short glass, a slow sip, as Cas listened to Jurr Awaud as much as a still pool; a lake of living memory that echoed as many names as screams.
The aftertaste still hugged her throat, clung to her bones; that strong burn of jewel-fruit, unless she was mistaken, though any fruit for the beverage would prove true if a Mandalorian had made it. Glass in hand, as if for leverage, Cas hesitated with taking another sip for the moment. She needed her senses for what happened next.

Adi’ka saluted her alor, her father, and as she left she did not witness it as Casany raised her drink in a silent salute. Adi’ka Awaud. As good as Praxor’s sister. If not for Adi, this whole scene would have never happened. Neither Kad-Stor. The Human owed the Lepi, after a manner, given they were Mandalorian, and they owed each other nothing as much as everything.

So the Praxor downed her drink, finally, amid stories told, and songs sung; and beaten was the drum, stroked the string. Of booming laughter, the Mandalorians gathered, consuming word and water, thereafter assuming the stance of attention as their companion returned to them.

With a man in red armor, two foundlings, each of the three sporting the hammer as surely as one woman wore the anvil on her armor. It cannot be. It was all she could think. By forge and fire, by the light of the sun, bright as blood, were these three faces suddenly like the lakes of Mandalore in the caves, taking Casany Praxor down memory lane.

Goffanon. The name rang no bells, but why should it? For a spell, time might have stopped just then, as Casany Praxor was afforded a mere moment by the universe to stand and stare at this wandering smith. The name of his corporation meant nothing. The name of him and his two apprentices, Sig Xant and Niamh Morr, meant everything, much and more.

You are our alor? The question echoed in her head, there and back again; and she gave them her attention, but she fought to be expressionless, so that disbelief might not shine on her countenance.
Call the ring of beskar, come the echo of iron, in red gold bound, as Casany Praxor sought their eyes, their ears, fought with whether to chastise the man for correcting the foundlings, as a rush of emotions flowed over her like the waves of an ocean.

She had her blasters, her blades, her grenades, and she was a formidable bounty hunter. She was Anvil. Forged in the fires of Mandalore, for even when they died out the smoke had drifted across the stars, harbored by the vast expanse, till they rekindled in the ash. Vengeance as the kindle, family as the tinder.

Hammer and anvil. There they are. My clansmen. My brethren. My kin.

“Not all of them did,” Casany began as she looked left, looked right, taking in each face of three. “Some survived.” There were others with her. Other Mandalorians who shared her presence. Yet, despite their strength, they were suddenly forgotten in the moment, as Praxor focused on Praxors more, and stepped forth.

“What is dead may never die,” she promised, placing a hand on either shoulder of the younger ones, but staring the man straight into his eyes. “But rises again…” Vengeance. Family. “Harder and stronger.” She breathed steadily.

“I am your alor.” Maybe it was the moment, the excitement, the adrenaline, that rush of blood getting the better of her, but there she was. “Casany Praxor.”

Jurr Awaud Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Adi'ka saw the reunion of the Clan Praxor and was very satisfied how things were developing.
But the next thing happening surprised even the ever optimistic Lepi.

The whole cantina witnessed the miracle of a clan reborn and the first man of Clan Awaud spoke up:
"Oya, alor Praxor! I have seen two of your ilk on Desevro playing bodyguard for rich people. I could send you their Undervine contact data."

A woman of the Conclave stood and said: "Oya, I saw a platoon with your markings fighting for farmers on AgriWorld 2315 against marauders. They are still there for this season to make sure the bandits do not return."

A feline Togorian in Mandalorian armor stood. "Oya, on Mutanda one of my posse against poachers were from your clan. I could arrange a meeting or could relay a message for them."

Another warrior stood: "Oya, alor Praxor! Among the scavengers of the Elrood sector a smith with Praxor markings was seen hunting for beskar."

Even a Death Watch enjoying her drink in the peace of the neutral ground said: "Saw a pack of your whelps running like Lepi before the assault of the Imperials I was working for. Got away, of course. Lousy aim, these stormtroopers, and I do not shoot in the back of people, not even for cash.
Still there and helping some noob squad of resistance fighters. Could give you the coordinates for a drink or two."

A man whose clan markings are scratch away on his armor said: "In the guilds of the bounty hunters, I have contacts to five more of your kind. With ships and all. Do you take in people whose clans are gone? I would enlist."

"Oya, us too!" A group of four young guns, foundlings without clans marking, raised by lone wolves stood up. "Take our fealty, and we live and die for your clan!"

An old veteran with cybernetic arm and leg stood. "I stumbled over the wreckage of an old Crusader Corvette years ago. Beskar-alloy hull and mostly intact. Give me an honored place as a weapon teacher in your clan for my winter years, and I would give you the coordinates."

And this was only the beginning. Messages spammed Casanys radio. In this night, a clan thought dead was reborn.

The souls of so many dead over the centuries seemed suddenly close to Casany. She could almost smell the weapon oil and sweat of her parents standing behind her. The Manda resonated within her as if Kad Ha'rangir, the god of change, drove Arasuum, the god of stagnation, with mighty hammer blows out of the hearts of all the scattered fragments of Clan Praxor.

"Now we can talk about tom, CLAN Praxor", Jurr Awaud said simply after the turmoil made way to a celebration and feast and smiled.


Casany Praxor

 

[Casany Praxor]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Silence. Where once she had spoken in a tone of iron, smooth as steel and solid as rock, she fell silent, and watched, and listened. Her blood pumped, her drum thrummed, and so came the thunder of those who spoke in her perimeter. Words firm, words hard, words that arced and sparked a burn within the fire inside her.

A tempered flame, but a temper can blaze, and someday all of Mando’ade will burn and blaze their way throughout the universe. Today, however, only one Mandalorian, one woman, stood tall and center, but not with fame. This was the figure of bone and flesh, sword and armor, surrounded by Mandalorians more in witness, as they spoke to Casany Praxor but opened the door for tomorrow’s Mandalore.

From Clan Praxor to Kad-Stor, perhaps there would be new unity, but she was no stranger to what her brothers and sisters were paving the way toward outside of this planet and her presence. The Mandalorians of the galaxy were rocking it, shaping it, while the Praxor skirted the sidelines, as bounty hunter, if nothing more.
Yet, as she turned her eyes and ears, heard the voices of those near, she felt the lost echo of her asteroid, her home, and it rattled her bone like her sister of battle, Adi’ka Awaud. No. She wanted to shake her head that moment, bite her lip. Breath caught in her chest as she thought of family, memories wrought. How can this be?

Yet there they were, from Desevro to AgriWorld, Mutanda to Elrood, stormtroopers to bounty hunters, foundlings to elderly, and all of them given as gifts by the Mandalorians in her presence. They gave, in honor broad as a blade, loyalty born in spirit, strength forged in flesh, and revealed to Casany Praxor that there were more than her, one man and two foundlings—and that made her heart turn to steel.

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din!” The Praxor said, a confident grin given to the two foundlings. “For the Mandalorians around me…are my family…” She crossed a fist over her chest then punched the sky with a cry. “OYA!”


To the celebrations next, to feasting and drinking and singing, as Casany found a spot in between Jurr and Adi, drinking heartily, motioning toward an old veteran with a cybernetic arm and leg. “He mentioned the wreckage of a Crusader-class corvette,” she said, her eyes on the man but just as much on them and every Mandalorian in her presence. “I shall find my clan, as I have found two foundlings and one man,” by Awaud’s hands in partnership. “Then we shall take this ship. And it will be our flagship.”

Back on Kad-Stor, Adi’ka had spoken of the future, of forging partners, of restoring the fortress, and Casany had responded, hesitating; but now she looked at her sister, and her tone and her gaze were…unwavering. "I have spoken."

Jurr Awaud Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

A mighty roar of dozens of warriors rose throughout the cantina and beyond. The radio of a hundred helmets took the shout and send it to thousands on the planet and to ships in orbit:

"OYA!"

A thin, high-pitched Lepi voice shouted as loud as everymando in the room. Adi'ka Awaud would help her sister to fulfill her destiny. But now she partied hard and lived at the moment. Drinking, laughing, dancing with friends and family and later lovemaking in private with her four eyed friend was all that matters.

Adi'ka was like Hod Ha'ran, the trickster god of Mandalorian religion, and embodied the fickle nature of fortune without knowing it herself.
She was like the lucky rabbit paw for Casany and she had four paws.

She was drunk with emotion to be of any help at the moment, but her foster father was ever in control, like a good leader should be.

"Clan Awaud will help you in your endeavors." Jurr's words were simple and short, but had more weight as hours of pompous speeches by presidents, chancellors or kings. The truthfulness of this oath resonated in the Manda for Casany.

The tom was forged. The Mandalorians had a mighty clan long thought dead in ascension again.

The saga of Casany Praxor was only at the beginning.

Casany Praxor