Cu'agr: Weapons Training (All ME welcome)

[Aditya Fitz Kierke]

“See? He knows it. Don’t want to train like you mean it, go home, or join the kids. My midget of a granddaughter could use a sparring partner as piddly as she is.” Nodding to the sight of [member="Adara Raxis"] with [member="Mig Gred"] and [member="Strider Garon"], I test the blade in a few figure-eights. Fairly well weighted. Good tang.

The man retreats, and is replaced by [member="Adenn Kyramud"], who I’ve only seen fight once. He got wounded. Still doesn’t instil me with confidence that I’ll win. When he turned to the growing crowd, I lower on my haunches and pick up a jagged fist-sized rock by my foot. Got heft. Good.

“Don’t worry, I won’t lob a limb off in front of your Clan.” I snarl, a feral grin on my Epicanthix face. Takes all of two large strides to come at him on the diagonal, stabbing my sword in toward his right midsection.

The stab is a feint. What I really attempt to do is use the jagged rock in my hand to bash at the transparisteel of his visor, Epicanthix muscles going hard enough to crack glass.

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

Adenn can't help but chuckle as [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] speaks. One should train like they mean it, or it doesn't matter. Smiling as Aditya does some figure eights with the blade, Adenn looks around once more. With his 360 degree helmet view, Adenn notices how she picks up a rock, and a not so small one at that. Sighing to himself, Adenn makes a mental note to have his people clean the place again. There shouldn't be such rocks around, so someone had obviously messed up on the cleaning schedule.

Then she says she won't lob off an arm, and Adenn chuckles again.
"Oh don't worry Aditya. You'll try, but you won't because you won't hit me." Adenn laughs lightly then, continuing to taunt her. "Myself on the other hand, I promise not to hit you too hard, or embarrass you in front of family."

Then she charges, and Adenn chuckles again. As she stabs, Adenn spins on his heel, dodging the stab easily enough. After that, Aditya tries to hit him with the jagged rock, and Adenn outright laughs. Tilting his head to the side, the rock just barely scrapes the side of his helmet, leaving another scratch there. Aside form that though, it doesn't really hit him. But Adenn isn't idle then, instead he jabs his arm out to hit her in her armpit, hoping to knock her arm out of balance, or even better, hit a nerve and knock it out of commission.

After that, Adenn jumps back 2 steps, out of range hopefully. Looking her over, Adenn smirks behind his helmet. He had yet to even consider touching his weapons, but Aditya seemed to be more skilled than expected. So perhaps he'd have to get his sword out, sooner rather than later. However, for now he'd see what would happen.
"Come now Aditya, is that the best you can do." He tilts his head mockingly at her, and makes another come at me motion. Somewhere in the crowd, someone laughs loudly, but Adenn ignores that, instead waiting for Aditya to attack once more.
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With [member="Azure Djitred"] and [member="Varian"], the first trainer had overheard what she said. Chuckling quietly, the trainer spoke then.
"Don't worry, you'll get lots of training in here for the day. For the week even, if you decide to stay longer." With that, he kept walking.

The second trainer nodded his head then waved Varians response away.
"You're here now, that's what matters."

Then he nodded his head to the reasoning behind his colors. As good a reason as any; though the color scheme was very similar to the Clan Mortui color scheme. A fact that amused the trainer.
"If I may ask, which clan are you part of?"

 

[Adara Raxis]

Strider (used with permission [member="Strider Garon"]) grunted at Adara’s effort. So the kid wasn’t going to give up. She had some fight in her, now it was a matter of increasing that fight and resilience until she could be a proper Mandalorian.

Adara laid on her front, face tilted up to see [member="Mig Gred"] speak to her. Panting, and with arms shivering, Adara curled up on her side, as her brother knelt beside her, and pulled her head into his lap. Reyn popped a sweet into her mouth, holding the weakling child up enough that she could see. Trying not to sob, Adara’s lip pressed in a thin, dainty line.

Alor Gred had more than her nanny Tamar’s fancy, he knew how to get the children and smaller among them to listen, and see an application which could hopefully work for them.

Adara’s skin began to lose its’ sickly pallor. Her brother wobbled, his lower lip firmly stuck between his teeth, as one of the Anubian guards knelt beside them, eyes losing some of their spark and sparkle as Adara improved. She pushed up to sit on her own, clinging to Reyn’s hand. His smile turned meek, rid of the earlier excitement as he grunted to his feet, and attempted to find a partner with which to practice the dodge and arm-grab technique. Eyes always poised back to his sister.

Adara stood, watching the other children work, and looked up, up, up to Mig’s face. Perhaps there, so close to the child, the Force Sensitive Mandalorian would see the truth.

Her guard was kneeling, because she unconsciously stole his life-force. Reyn wobbled because he freely let his sister drain him. This curious child, which Yasha protected without training, and sent off Mandalore was a dangerous relic of the Dark. She was, above all, fragile and powerful in those mysteries she yet did not understand.

In the distance, Adara heard what [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] said of her own granddaughter. Adara's fists clenched. Pitch black was her left eye, the crimson of blood her iris. The black flooded to the right eye, as well. Clouding out the white sclera and tainting her blue iris with crimson. It was no mistake of genetics, but the clarion call of her eventual destructive energies. This child, borne of her parents' experiences in the Netherworld, sustained by the healing blood of the Dark Lord of the Sith. The purest expression of the Dark alit upon her shoulders, a banshee waiting to sing.

“If I tried not to overwork myself, I’d be watching on my mat, Alor Gred. May I ask you to help me with the move?”

 

[Aditya Fitz Kierke]

Oh so he’s fast. Good. About time I didn’t have to go up against mooks. Utter childish mooks.

“Such a bold statement, from a man insecure enough to have to dress in an armoured onesie every time he goes outside.” I grin, as he taunts back. Finally someone who knows how to talk around here! “Hit me as hard as you think you can, sugar pop. Don’t be expecting me to be some… exoskeletal-needing war pigeon.”

Yes, that’s how to win friends! Insult them! I… have clearly not done this friends thing in a while… The rock hits his helmet, and in the glancing blow I hear the vibrations of the clear portion.

It’s breakable.

Reconnaissance… check!

His arm jabs for my armpit, and I twist and clench my arm down over his, tightening my muscles to clamp down and hold his arm and body at an odd angle. Odd enough to kick the inside of his leg, raking my boot down the side of his inner thigh and shin hard enough to bruise a bantha.

He tries to jump, and I stay with him, keeping close and cheating into his personal space. Yanking my sword arm up, I use the pommel against his visor again, smacking as hard as my Epicanthix muscles can… at least Praz gave me a body almost twice as strong as a baseline human.

It’s the little things. If I can, I’ll bash again. One leg between his, to trip him up, if I can and he doesn’t disconnect. [member="Adenn Kyramud"]

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

As [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] spoke again, Adenn laughed. She could say what she wanted, wouldn't affect him in the slightest. Oh, he should hit her as hard as he can? He can do that, he can do that very well. Behind his helmet, Adenn is grinning madly now, silently promising pain. Then suddenly his punch is used against him, and his arm is caught under her arm. She bends him the wrong way, and Adenn goes with it to make it seem like she has power over him. And then, she kicks the inside of his leg.

Going with the flow, he "collapses" to one knee, kneeling before her, and still being held by the arm. He grins up at her from behind his helmet, suppressing any pain from the kick. Then he jumps up and towards her, aiming to headbutt her chest, or higher and her neck or face. Then he breaks his arm out of her grasp by spinning before kicking out, and then jumping back.

But she's following him, of course she is, she's not some newborn welp. No, Aditya was skilled, but still not skilled enough. As she tries the same trick again, of smacking his visor, Adenn ducks under the swing and tries to bulldoze into her midsection. This time, he then flips past her and takes a few steps back.
"Come now Aditya, was that your hardest kick? I barely felt it. Please, try better." He tilts his head back slightly laughing, but still keeping an eye on her. "Also, the way you use your sword is wrong. You keep trying to bash my head in. It seems like I'll have to teach you how to use one properly."

He's smirking behind his helm now, and it's obvious in the way he's standing. Then, Adenn reaches a hand behind his back and pulls out his beskad. Still smirking, Adenn looks at Aditya and crosses the sword in front of his T-visor, straight down the middle. then, he's a blur, charging forward, and slight to the side, of Aditya. He's holding the sword loosely in his right hand, down to the side, almost touching the ground. Laughing, he then jumps towards her and swings from shoulder to hip, and somewhere a cry of "Oya" is heard in the crowd, But Adenn, he's just laughing in amusment.

[member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"]

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig looked with a hint of shock at [member="Adara Raxis"] . He could feel what happened to the guard and Reyn. He knew the Force was what let her survive, but not that she'd do this, whether merely a natural reaction or not. The Alor watched as Reyn somewhat weakly walked off to find a partner before allowing the older Mandalorian thinking to himself. He could feel the Dark Side in her. He knew it was what kept her alive, but it was almost more than that. It was such a pure form of the Dark Side.... Mig had never felt anything quite like this. Closest think he had felt was the strange dark force on Eshan.

He then watched as Adara reacted to her grandmother, [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] . He honestly couldn't help shooting a glare her way himself. He could almost feel the girl's emotions getting the better of her. She seemed to rein herself in though, then asked if Mig could help her with the move, and explained that she'd get nowhere if she didn't overpush herself. Mig nodded and prepped. "Ok, I'm going to star slow. Let you get the hang of it." Once Adara was ready Mig slowly punched, explaining how to use the move. "Alright. Take a slight side step, or lean away, grab my arm, and pull. It'll be better when we kick up the speed, because momentum is what makes this move work."

 

[Adara Raxis]

Life survived in one of three ways. Neutrally unawares of how or why, sustenance gifted from the Light, or forcibly taken by the Dark. Adara’s life was the lattermost, a constant act of claiming the energy she needed to sustain her fragile form.

The resurrection came with costs, and in the intervening time, those costs became embedded in her subconscious. Perhaps then [member="Mig Gred"] had his answer of why the Infernal left her daughter untrained in Mandalorian ways two years after a usual Mando’ad’ika was brought to learn. The girl was dangerous. She was a monument to the imperious nature of the Force’s more nefarious leanings. A grasping entity, who refused to die.

Due to the benefit of the constant supply of Carnifex’s blood she received as a child, and alchemically stabilized formulas when she was an infant, Adara was the most pristine expression of the Dark most gifted with the Force might ever experience… and yet the child could be sweet. She was loving, doting on her younger siblings. Her sister [member="Beth Cadera"]’s and adopted father [member="Kaine Australis"]’ love for the girl was attempting to shift the pitch in her soul.

A battle taking place for the future of the child. She nodded for Mig, nibbling on her lower lip in concentration of the task at hand. Mig’s punch came in, and Adara side-stepped, nearly tripping on her own shoes. Her hand reached out, taking hold of his arm.

She gasped. Fuel… black and red eyes shot up to Mig’s face. Trying to tug through, the weak muscles of Adara’s spindle arms barely managed even the lightest pull.

“… moment-umm…”

‘You’re like me, but not like me… do you want to kill me, too?’ While her physical condition was weaker than an injured bird, Adara’s telepathic voice had the potential to shake whatever mind it touched upon. Power. Potential for unadulterated power.

 

[Azure Djitred]

When the trainer spoke of staying the week, Azure let out a small, soft laugh, shaking her head. " Oh no, I couldn't stay that long. I can't stray far from my Rancor for too long, otherwise she might devour one of the newer members of Clan Solus. Though, they tend to learn quickly to not get too close to her." Azure smiled innocently, like she didn't just speak of some poor vod getting devoured by a Rancor.

[member="Varian"] [member="Adenn Kyramud"]

 

[Aditya Fitz Kierke]

“Obviously not! You want me to break your knee?! What’ll that prove, Kyra-bucket?” There was more to training than avoidance and dodging out of the way. Someday [member="Adenn Kyramud"] will understand... hopefully after I kick the back plate out of his armour across the training field. “Not trying t’bleed ya, love. Trying to get a view of that face!”

Now that he knows my tactic, I’m assuming he’ll change his. This was never about causing his face any harm... I want to get in there. I want to see him.

His sword telegraphs down, then the large swing up before drawing in a diagonal. If he’d use the downward angle he had at the beginning, he would have conserved energy. But no. This?

This is for the fun, not for the death. I tilt my blade, as I step aside and toward his former position, cheating in on the diagonal with my feet.

“Teach me, Sword Master! C’mon!” His blade slides along mine, and I turn my blade to the side, my arm lower than his, sword tilted to use his own forward momentum to bring his shoulder into the blade.

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig could begin to feel the battle coming from the child. She was a very strong Dark Sider, but he could feel hints of the Light in her. The alor could also feel that something reached out to him as [member="Adara Raxis"] grabbed and tried her best to pull him through. A... hunger? Yeah. That was it. She managed to pull Mig a bit. Good. Then a voice hit him like a brick wall. His mind raced a bit, trying to figure out what was going on until he finally realized who it was. Adara? Her strength in the Force definitely outmatched her physical strength, and this just seemed to prove it. Mig somewhat hesitantly reached out with the Force. While not skilled with telepathy, he figure that Adara, or whoever was speaking, would still be able to hear it.

"Adara? Are you...? Yes. I'm like you, but different. And I don't want to kill you. Far from it."

 

[Adara Raxis]

Hunger expanded, a swirling microcosm in its early stages of development. The appetite within Adara’s soup was continuing to pulsate, to grow.

Where it would be in another decade? Two?

In a flash, a single sensation expanded. A raven haired goddess, floating in the atmosphere. Eyes the colour of fire. Skin pale, alit with runes of power and a never attainable wish for satiation. She raised her hand, and life bent, folded and flew into her fingertips...

Forever consumed.

The flash dissipated, as Adara’s telepathic voice thundered inside [member="Mig Gred"]’s mind. The girl looked up into his eyes. Every atom of her being, each minuscule sensation were claimed by a fledgeling depravity, a future horror.

‘Yes, silly. Who else would it be? Usually others gifted with the Force desire my death. Not Daddy... and maybe not you... for now.’

“Sorry, Alor Gred. Please show me again.” What was this child, who slipped her hand from Mig’s arm. “I can’t do it.”

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig was still a surprised by the crazyness of this all. He knew [member="Adara Raxis"] was powerful, but this much raw Force strength.... It was something he'd never seen or felt before. Oddly though, the Alor didn't seem scared of her, even with the vision that flashed in his mind. Could that be her future? A destiny that couldn't be avoided? No. While Mig believed in destiny, he was never sure on how firm it was. He was sure this wouldn't be her fate if she could be taught how to control her gift in the Force. She soon spoke to his mind again before speaking with her mouth again.

Adara asked if he could show her the move again, but once she let go of his arm the girl said that she couldn't do it. He raised an eyebrow, and soon spoke up with a calm voice. "You're going it right Adara, but it'll get better if I punch faster. Or are you talking about something else?"

 

[Adara Raxis]

The vision faded for the child in front of [member="Mig Gred"]. Yasha’s dainty daughter waited for Mig to acclimatize, seeing the man off kilter in a much more demure way than others had. Used to violence or the talk of damnation, Adara received neither. It was welcome. She sighed and her shoulders descended.

Mig was not to fear.

“The move, please. You were going to punch me, and I was supposed to... somehow not die.” Adara nodded as sagely as a ten year old could. Her fate lingered between them, a vision many hoped would take no turn toward the balm of reality.

Who could know? Her father perhaps. The Seers of Sabarene or the Oracles of the Black Oculus?

Attempting the move in the air, Adara pursed her lips and watched her brother Reyn toss a grown man aside. If he could do it... she was sunk.

“Are you sure I can?”

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig smiled at [member="Adara Raxis"] , getting ready to start their training again. He was a bit surprised that any child of Yasha and Kaine could be so... unsure of herself. Especially when she could easily clear an arena full of warriors when she was younger. Granted, maybe she still lacked control. Either way, the Alor went for the next punch, which was a little faster than the last. He let Adara pull the arm again before speaking again.

"You know, in many way what makes a good hand-to-hand fighter makes a good Force welder as well, and a good warrior in general. Having control of yourself; being able to use your emotions without without falling to them. Unlike many kinds of fighting though, you don't have to be physically strong to good at it. There are many techniques like this one that can allow anyone to turn an opponent's strength against them, and, by fighting smart, you can beat anyone." As he said this, Mig would continue to help Adara. He punched a little faster each time, and soon most could see him start to be pulled through his punch and stumble some.

 

[Adara Raxis]

Adara attempted to smile, but the concern and beginnings of fatigue were wearing on the child. Feet stumbled through the motions. Arms a little weaker each time they tugged and pulled through. Breath laboured in tiny lungs, as her cheeks flushed.

“Yes... yes Alor Gred...” Adara panted, putting her hands on her knees. She tried again, this time missing her timing. Mig’s arm smacked her across the shoulder. Spun in a circle, Adara landed on her backside with a thick, “ooof!”

One of her Anubian guards dove to catch her too late, only succeeding to take hold of the girl’s shoulders.

“Ooooowwwwwwwiiieeeeee.” Adara sniffled. Her black and red eyes bounced up to [member="Mig Gred"], as her lips wobbled.

A shadow upon the child grew, as [member="Yasha Cadera"], Who until now crouched hidden on the roof, landed with a crescent of dust all round her. She slammed her spear into the ground, walking past Mig while patting his shoulder. Her helm retracted from her face as she got to Adara.

“Well taught, Alor Gred. My thanks for training our children.” Scooping Adara up, Yasha cuddled her daughter on her hip, brushing the child’s hair away from her exhausted face. In a rare moment of public affection, Yasha kissed her daughter’s cheeks and rocked the child. “Mmm mmm mmmmh, oh my girl. You did so well! Do not mire your progress with tears.”

“Buir! Buir, did you see?! I moved Strider Garon! I did it!” Young Reyn bolted to attach to his mother’s leg, eliciting another most curious and nigh never before seen moment from the cold and achingly serious Infernal.

Yasha laughed.

“I did see, Ram’ika! You did well! I am proud of how you learned it. C’mere Ram.” Bending with her knees, Yasha offered Reyn a hand and he climbed up to cling to his mother’s other hip. He nuzzled his nose up into her chin and she leaned down to kiss his brow.

“I’m the proudest Buir on all Manda’yaim today. Now... Ram? Why don’t you show me your new moves, alright?” Reyn burst off to challenge one of his trainers, as Adara sniffled and flopped near lifelessly in the crook of her mother’s neck. Yasha hefted her up better and walked as Adara caught her breath, taking a small snack Yasha brought down for Adara’s sustenance.

“Mig. You have questions, I can tell.” Nodding him to a shady spot on the edge of the child’s training section, Yasha kissed Adara’s brow again and waited for the questions to come.

 

[Nicair Claden]

He'd been away for some time. Had it been months? Antisoch's day cycles were far different than the average, and they fluctuated. The planet, and its people, were borne of chaos and disorder. Being tasked with attempting to plan out how to best bring order to his people who were unaware of his existence and the meddling of outside forces, was one he often thought impossible. To be told he would be placed on the vacant throne as the first Qer'ak in generations was unthinkable. A king for a people he only recently knew he was a part of. A people that would kill him if they knew. His story needed time to spread on his planet, legends of a "Sandman" and old stories of the old gods and their banishment. He'd seen the ruins in the north that once held civilizations and warriors from the time when the Sociph had elongated ears and their people could live centuries. Before they damned themselves further, and Qerak's Curse tainted their minds even further and corrupted their bodies.

To say he needed time away from all of that, was underestimating things. There was still more work to be done, but it was nearing completion. Soon enough, his head would wear the Iron Crown of a Qer'ak. The last had been killed in a revolt and the symbol lost to time. They'd found it, and it was hungry to taste Antisoch blood once more.

All things in time.

The stride he took walking into the facility was calm yet powerful. If guards stopped him he gave them a look before continuing on, his gait unbroken. He'd aged some since last he showed his face, but if this was on Mandalore, it wouldn't take long to recognize the face that gazed back. He had good timing too, just soon enough to see his Mand'alor, [member="Yasha Cadera"], do something he hadn't seen for some time, she laughed. She showed affection. The two around her, were those truly her children? Last he'd seen of her she was still pregnant.

That's what happens when you leave bau, you lose things. Memories, people, events. Stop being surprised and stop feeling left behind. You'd leave yourself behind just so you can do it on your own terms.

He surveyed the arena, watched everyone training, too many he didn't know or hadn't met just yet to count. He knew [member="Mig Gred"] at least, they'd fought together to free a vod Nicair no longer remembered. To say he was pleased to see [member="Strider Garon"] still eating grit and gristle with every meal was also, an understatement.

So many of those anymore.

[member="Adara Raxis"] | [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] | [member="Azure Djitred"] | [member="Adenn Kyramud"]

 

[Varian]

Luke had to look with a little surprise as [member="Azure Djitred"] mentioned her Rancor, it was a very particular type of creature, definitely not one Mandalorians were all to well known for using. But his attention was brought back as the trainer speaking to him asked about what clan he was a part of.

Varian tilted his head to the side with a groan, "That's...not entirely easy to answer. My family didn't really pay attention to it, and as a result, I haven't stood in any particular clan officially. I'm trying to fix that by researching each, but have yet to be certain of my decisions." he answered.

He had thought of Mortui, along with a few others, he had a few particular skills that would let him fit into some more easily then others.



[member="Adenn Kyramud"]

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

Laughing loudly at [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] about his knee, Adenn shook his head while keeping his eyes on the feisty lady.
"Oh, you think you'll break my knee? Now that I know that trick, I'll know how to dodge it, so you won't be able to break my knee anytime soon."

Oh, so Aditya wants to see his face. That meant she wouldn't, because Adenn wouldn't let her. Grinning to himself as he attacked her, Adenn just kept going. Then their swords meet, and Adenns blade slides down with hers. Grinning with joy, Adenn lets it slide down, noting that his shoulder is fast approaching her blade. Smirking, Adenn turns his blade slightly and at the last second, falls down to his side while using his blades slight hook to try and catch Adityas blade, to pull it down as well. But it wasn't last second enough, in his fall his shoulder hit the sword anyways, with it scraping along his shoulder guard. A newscar was now on his shoulder pad, but Adenn ignored it, instead continuing his fall.

Whether it works or not doesn't matter, as Adenn falls down in the attempt to drag her blade down with his. When he hits the ground, he spins around with a kick before pulling again with his blade. At that pull, he spins slightly while rising up again, turning to face her. If he succeeded in pulling her blade down with his own, Adenn will swipe towards the opening created by her dropped defense. If the blade didn't pull hers down with his own, Adenn will kick out towards her shins and then swing down with all his might towards her upper body(heads and shoulders).
"Sword Master, I like the sound of that. Well, you did come here to learn, and woe unto any who don't make good on their promises. So, adept, I shall train you. Starting here, and now, and where you least expect it."

Having said that, Adenns next attack swipes towards her stomach, aiming on hitting her full on if she doesn't block. Of course, if it hits, it shouldn't do too much damage, but it still could. So Adenn had angled it slightly to hit almost sideways, but still have its cutting edge.
"Come then darlin!" He shouted while swinging, "Let's see what you can do."
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The trainer chuckled dryly to [member="Azure Djitred"]'s comment. Rancors were interesting creatures, but unruly.
"Very well then," He spoke, "I'm sure we can do our best for however long it is you are here. Though I do hope your Rancor can keep itself calm enough while we keep you here." The grin was evident in his voice as he spoke.

Meanwhile, the other trainer walked with [member="Varian"]. As he walked with Varian, the man frowned behind his helmet; that's not how family should act, especially a Mandalorian family. Then he took note that the man was looking for a Clan. Now, usually Mortui didn't accept outsiders into their family, but there were always exceptions. Though no exception had been made for some timne, that was mainly due to their isolationism.
"I'm sorry to hear that about your family." The trainer shook his head lightly, wondering how something like that was allowed. "If you need a clan, I'm sure Clan Mortui would be willing to take you in. You'd just need to prove yourself first."

With that said, he waited for an answer, all while continuing to walk forward. A few moments later, they'd arrive at a training square, one near where Adenn and [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] were fighting. The two trainers with [member="Varian"] and [member="Azure Djitred"] didn't focus on them, instead focusing on the two with them. Noting that both had weapons of their own, the trainers felt like it'd be best if they trained with that instead. So, giving them the rundown of how to duel, they simply said that they'd be facing each other.

Rules:

1. No guns
2. No Force powers
3. Play fair
4. Be safe
5. Have fun
6. Don't die messily if death is the only outcome

[member="Varian"] [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] [member="Azure Djitred"]

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig looked both shocked and guilty as [member="Adara Raxis"] was hit by his fist. The Alor quickly joined the Anubian in being sure the girl was ok, quickly saying "Sorry, Adara. Thought you we ready for that one, but ya did good." He then heard a slam behind him, and turned to see [member="Yasha Cadera"] standing there. Ok, was he in trouble for socking the Mand'alor's daughter? He waited to hear Yasha speak, and was a bit surprised by the fact that she thanked him for helping to train the children. Mig let out a slight sigh of relief before nodding to Yasha. "It's an honor, Mand'alor."

He watched as the Mand'alor and her kids spoke. It wasn't often that he'd seen her show her children so much affection, though her position didn't always allow it. She then noticed that he seemed to have a question, and directed him to a shady spot to talk. Mig breathed in a bit, then spoke. "Well, while training Adara, I saw something. A vision, maybe a fear of hers. I could see her projecting her own fears unto others given just how strong she is, and her telepathic skills. Anyway, this vision, or nightmare, do you know anything about it?"

 

[Adara Raxis]

Walking Adara under the shade, Yasha brushed the girl’s hair back and kissed her brow, letting Adara focus on breathing and calming her belaboured lungs down. Making sweet sounds to help ease her firstborn, Yasha paused to think about the question [member="Mig Gred"] posited.

Did Yasha know of the dream or nightmare? The recurring vision? “I know nothing of the Force. What Adara did… I have no way to fathom it.”

She touched her girl’s hair, holding Adara a little firmer, a bit tighter. Adara’s arms wound around her mother’s shoulder and neck, tucking her head under her mother’s chin.

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t speak of this, Mig… it kills me to send Adara into Aruetiise space, but I cannot have her breaking the law. It’s hard enough with a child whose natural proclivities mean life on Mandalore will never be possible. Adara was born seven weeks premature. I went through labour in a prison cell, my ribs smashed, when a group of terrorists attempted to start a war between us and the Silver Jedi Order. Due to the Jetiise’s defence, my father [member="Gray Raxis"] and the medics reached us too late.

Adara lingered four days, then died. I… lost my first husband in the attack. Australis… Kaine, he… resurrected her and paid the price for his crime. I got my baby back, but she was weak, faltering. You have to realize at the time on Mandalore, we were still reeling from the Civil War. I was a 20 year old girl, thrust onto the Mand’alor’s throne too young. I brought Adara with me to a diplomatic session on Bastion, with the Sith Emperor, because his physicians were the best in the universe for handling Epicanthix-crossbreed neonates.

He took one look at Adara, and cut his palm. His blood absorbed into her skin, and for the first time she cried like a normal baby. Carnifex continued ensuring Adara had a steady supply for years. She’s got the blood of the Dark Lord of the Sith running through her veins, Mig. I was a Force Dead 20 year old, who let it happen, because I’d never seen anyone use the Force before. Couldn't feel the difference. Whatever you saw… I don’t know what it was, but… I’ll bet it wasn’t Adara’s fear. More likely her future, or what she imagines it to be. An Echani mystic once told me it’s her likeliest path, some hogwash about destined strings and something about vampiric energy.

All I can do is see she is properly trained, and keep her off Mandalore.”

Adara sniffled, taking a tissue from her pocket and rubbing at her nose. "I'm sorry Buir... I didn't mean it."

"The Law is the Law, Adara. We follow it, because the People of Manda'yaim dictated that it remain. I cannot give you special treatment, that's not what a fair ruler does. You know this... oh cyar'ika, don't cry. You've got more moves to learn, then we'll all get big chocolate sundaes, alright? Okay, my love?" Yasha smiled down at her stricken daughter, rocking gently, until she got a nod and a soft smile.

"Didn't mean to scare you, Alor Gred. Honest. I'll do better. I'll learn like Strider, I will..."

"Hush, ad'ika... rest and when your strength comes back, you can go learn another move." Yasha watched Mig carefully, wondering if she'd have to remove her daughter from the training field and excise her from Mandalore's space sooner than scheduled. How would he react? She caught [member="Nicair Claden"]'s eye and nodded. As soon as Adara caught her breath, Yasha would step in to help train the soldiers.

"Elek, Buir."