Exile Haven

[Ari Vox]

Had Thor Vox lived to see the day his daughter Ari sided with exiled Mandalorians, the woman wondered what his feelings would have been. Once such a steadfast loyalist to those who proclaimed themselves Manda'lor, Ari had suffered blow after blow as she waged countless wars in the name of their empire. So devastating had those conflicts been to the righteousness of her cause, Ari had severed ties with her own family, an almost unheard of thing given her position as Alor of the Clan, and ventured across the Galaxy in search of credits to sustain herself and purpose to guide her hands.

Such travels now brought her to Fleet Echoylir, the largest home of Mandalorians outside of their homeworld of Mandalore and the base from which the exiles built their causes. For herself, Ari had no real interest in the politics of her people, saw such things as frivolities reserved for high-brow and weak-willed individuals in organizations like the various Republics and Empires that tried in vain to dominate the Galaxy. It had no place in a martial society such as theirs, though many had tried throughout the years to change that.

On the cusp of the fleet, Ari was hailed and while Skip, her pilot droid, would usually have handled the formalities, the Mandalorian took the comms instead and made the first contact with her people. It was brisk and to the point like most things in their culture, and with time the aged YV-929 was easing through the layers of defence bound for the centre of the entire party, The Ketyadyr, and from the distance, it was a mammoth indeed. Actually, the entire fleet seemed mammoth, a floating armada she'd not seen the likes of in many years. Protected as it was by the Outer Rim Coalition, Ari wasn't surprised by the fact of its size nor by the bristle of the fleets many defences, but rather by the way it seemed to just hang in space. No doubt the fleet was moving, but it's pace seemed slow to the eyes of such a seasoned warrior, to one who had watched so many armadas tearing through FTL only to pop back out in the heat of a massive battle.

Perhaps it was a testament to their security.

At the main ship of the fleet, Ari's ship made to dock and was allowed access for a small sum of credits, a toll which Skip transferred over as he guided the ship inside the dock and found the spot they'd been reserved. Having taken the time to don her armour, Ari now stood at the back ramp and waited for the all-clear from her droid, silver trim glinting in the harsh illuminance cast by the ship's lighting.

"Ma'am we're being hailed by an officer. Sounds important, I'll patch you through," Came skip's cold robotic chime as Rawlin's joined his master at the top of the ramp.

"This is Lieutenant Sparr, I just put through your arrival to the command deck and my higher-ups have requested a face to face meeting, I have some men coming to guide you to your destination," Within her helmet the woman sighed and hung her head ever so slightly, this was supposed to be a simple shopping trip. She cast a glance over her shoulder at Rawlins who non-committedly shrugged his robotic shoulders, a movement he'd picked up from his master herself.

"Affirmative Lieutenant, thank you for informing me," The Mandalorian on the other end of the channel gave her the details for her meeting and shortly thereafter Skip gave the all clear, releasing the ramp which Ari started down even before it was fully extended and into the waiting group of fresh looking Mandalorians. It felt like this could even be an arrest, though she didn't think there were any bounties to be collected.

@[member=Gilamar Skirata]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

"Ari Vox!" Gilamar's voice cut through the rather quiet hangar. It bounced off the walls and overpowered the low occasional clinking and clanking of tools and boots. The old Gogi approached without armor, instead he wore a rather functional pair of cargo pants with various pouches and small sacks sewn into the legs and a light, greasy, faded green button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A helmet with a T-shaped visor was magnetically hooked to his belt, but it was incredibly generic. Behind him were two other Mandalorians, both clad in rather unique looking Beskar'gam, no doubt Clan leaders themselves.

Gil's boots clacked with every step on the durasteel floor. When he reached the freighter's ramp he put out hand as a greeting.

"I won't say we've been expecting you, but we've been looking forward to meeting someone like you."

[member="Ari Vox"]

 

[Ari Vox]

Footsteps and a voice, loud and unmistakable, cut through the din of the hanger as Ari's stood watching the approaching Mandalorians before her. Recognition dawned in her eyes, hooded by the T-Visor of her aged Beskar'gam, as she sized up the old Gogi before her. Gilamar Skirata, a legend amongst their people, she was surprised he recognized her name. With a slip of her hand, the helmet detached and she lifted it off with well-practised ease.

"The Master himself," She removed her glove to greet him and grasped his forearm in mutual respect, a smile cracking across her hardened features. "It's a pleasure to see you, I see the years have been kind," As their handshake ended she gestured with a sweeping motion at Gilamar's attire and the ship as a whole. He'd definitely put a lot of work into everything she'd come to see here. "I assume we have much to discuss?"

[member=Gilamar Skirata]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Gil nodded. She was surprisingly eager, he wondered how long that would last. Her clan had been scattered and many found themselves among Echoylir and its various ships. They needed a leader now more than ever, but he wondered if she would be so eager to take up that title again, even if only by name.

"Much indeed. Have you been home since Monroe..." he let the sentence trail off as he began to walk back the way he came. She would know the event he was alluding to. No Mandalorian could forget the recent cataclysm that befell Mandalore. It had been a few years but the Mandalorians were only now starting to return to the surface.That was something else he wanted to discuss with her.

[member="Ari Vox"]

 

[Ari Vox]

The Civil War. It was a heavy topic for Ari, the war had sewn destruction for Manda'yaim and saw the deaths of literally billions of Mandalorians, violence that she hoped to never bear witness to again. It was partially why she stepped down as Alor, passed the title to her adoptive brother and made off on her own with little to sustain her and less to live for. Since those early days, the wounds had slowly healed, had gone from gaping, sucking messes to scab coated infections that burned whenever she thought of them.

What's worse was that she knew she may never outlive them. Shadows wandered in her trailings and beckoned her to join them, their impermanence not always a clearly defined state - vestiges often loomed more real than life itself, even in her waking mind. Were she any other person the sheer obtrusiveness of it all would have been enough to warrant help - medication or a bullet - but for Ari, it was something she felt she had to endure and would carry for the rest of her life.

"No," Came her blunt reply, almost cutting Gilamar off had he not trailed his sentence. There was a look of pure despair at the word, she had forsaken those who once called her Alor during the most trying times for her family, and now she knew not what was left. "My Clan stayed out of the war for we were still weak from the time of the Netherworld, a blessing and a curse as we returned to a home shattered beyond belief," The trauma showed in the bags of her eyes, permanent from a total lack of restful sleep, and in the hump of her shoulders, the stance of a beleaguered titan well-worn by the weight of the worlds they carried.

"Have you returned?" The question was almost redundant, she couldn't picture a more powerful Mandalorian than Gilamar being in command of the fleet they were here apart of, and as such, she thought he would never again see the hunting grounds they'd both taken time upon. Though, with the state of the Galaxy, she didn't think it was likely even without the 'Exile' status that hung above their heads.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

"Hrmmm," he grumbled, "I fought in every battle of the Civil War. When I left the place was covered in more ashes than the first time we left...." He inhaled sharply through his nose. It was a dark time for him that he didn't much want to revisit. The wounds were still fresh in his mind.

"But talking about the war and our home is only half of the reason I-we, asked you here." They had left the hangar now and were walking through one of the many corridors of the Ketyadyr. The massive ship creaked and groaned, the air filtration system and life support were both working fine but it still smelled like a mix of spicy food, sweaty flightsuits, and strill. The Ketyadyr was both home and military barrack rolled into one. The smell almost seemed to vent away somewhere else the minute they entered the lift that brought them to the bridge.

"Your clan is scattered and your brother...He's been missing since the Civil War. Your people need a leader, your clan needs a leader again and we would love to have you here with us." The lift door hissed open to a wide room with several Mandalorians in their armor sitting in wait for them. Gil entered the room and turned to her.

"With Mand'alor the way it is now, we aren't sure where we can stay, but we are always looking and ORC has been incredibly helpful, but even if we fill our ships to the brim I want to help the ones who can't or won't go home and we need all the Alor and help we can get."
[member="Ari Vox"]

 

[Ari Vox]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

As Gilamar spoke of the Civil War and his unsurprising role in it, Ari could see the twitches of the battles long gone but well remembered, his eyes cast in shadows as his present became his past, even momentarily eclipsing the sights and smells of The Ketyadyr as the group passed through its halls. For a moment she too was in the past, the battles she had fought lay fresh in her mind and she struggled not to pick at her own scabs, but the present came back with the lift which they stepped inside of.

He shared about her Clan, the family she had left at the hands of her brother Rhys, and the family she now learned were scattered and leaderless in the loss of the very same man. Would she rise up once more and take her place? She knew full well the family would have their disputes about it -they'd more or less undergone a civil war when she'd first taken her position- but the battles that would come would pale in comparison to living her life alone and weak. A single cog in a massive war machine, bound to break on any field, in any ditch, left to waste in the ashes of obscurity.

When finally they'd reached the bridge Gilamar turned and spoke to her, his stance set firm and his expression reading grim determination. She stepped off the lift herself, followed by the other Mandos who had remained silent over their short journey, and now stood mere feet away from Gilamar, his back to the bridge and the bustle of command.

"Rhys was to be my successor, it pains to hear of his disappearance and while I'm not sure that I am up for it now, I will take time to meet with my family and discuss the possibility of taking the position as Alor once again. Knowing that this fleet you've assembled stands to work for the freedom of Mand'alor, I would be honoured to work at your side," Her head dipped slightly in a show of respect.

"Do you have any leads on where my brother has disappeared to? Are there members of my Clan here, in your fleet or on your ship?"

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

"Hmm..."

The old Mandalorian grumbled deep in thought.

"I'm not sure about your brother...But I know someone who can help you find him. As for your clan, they're scattered throughout the fleet, though when they found out you were coming many of them gathered here. You should meet them." He slipped a datachit into her hand. "That has the info on the tracker. He's...my brother, a Judge for ORC. He's out there more than I am and is an excellent tracker. You can trust him."
[member="Ari Vox"]

 

[Ari Vox]

So they knew of her arrival. Chit. Ari felt exposed at this new information, the years, she judged, had not been kind to the Clan which she'd abandoned and she suspected there was much resentment towards her shared amongst those who had come to greet her. Animosity, while not a stranger to the young Mandalorian, was not something she cared to endure, but endure it she would, at least for the time being.

At the passing of the datachit, Ari took it with a passing glance and a dextrous hand, slid it into a pouch and catalogued the information for use when she wasn't under immense amounts of stress. This had been a simple shopping expedition, hadn't it? It all felt like too much for the young woman to comprehend, only days before had she come to the conclusion that things could be remedied, her conscious could be saved, and now she was asked once more to lead her people to battle and eventually death. No, the course would not come easy at all.

"Thank you," She said, her voice low and carrying the weight of her emotional burden. "I'll be sure to seek out your brother, it seems that my own will need to be found and whoever you trust, I will as well," Another little bow of the head and from a different pouch she produced a small datachit of her own. On it was her information, everything one would need to contact her. "If you need me in the future do not hesitate to ask, I owe you for this,"


==================


With time Ari found her way -guided by one of Gilamar's men she was led to an area of the ship that was reserved for interclan discussions such as the one she was soon to face. Identical to dozens of other such spaces on the ship the area was littered with faces whom the young Vox immediately recognized. Some were older than she recalled, showed years of hard fighting on their features and in their stances, while others were much younger and seemed to be newer members of the family she had once led.

At her arrival the assembled group grew silent, harsh faces tracing her path from the door she had entered to the raised area at the front of the room. There was no podium, a simple stage afforded her a view of the crowd, and with it, she stood and eyed the mass before her. Barely contained contempt and animosity bubbled beneath the features of every figure in that room.

"Aliit ori'shya taldin," She said, her adoptive mother tongue coming with a well-practised ease that set the room's tension an octave lower. There was barely a grunt from the assembled mass, the saying washing over them by one they mostly perceived as an outsider, aruetii. She cared little for their response. "I come to you in a time of need, in a time of great upheaval," The Mandalorian continued, her posture square and straight and powerful in the eyes of her family.

"My brother, Rhys Vox, the man whom I passed the title of Aliit'alor to, is missing. This should come as no surprise, it's a well-known fact that he is gone, and I intend to find him. For you, my Clan...my Family, I would go to any length," A groan rose up from the mass. "Any length! I may have left you but I return to you stronger and with a conviction unbent by my time astray. I challenge any who wish to prove this to come forward, you will meet my fists and see the resolve,"

For the moment none stepped forward, all were listening and watching and waiting, time would show who amongst them truly believed in her words and the offer would rest there before her, tempting any who doubted her intentions. For now though, they would wait and see what had become of their leader, Rhys, the man that some had seen disappear into Wild Space alone.


==================


"So that's all I found out," Said Ari, her expression passive and alert as she eyed the Skirata across the table from her. Gilamar's brother was a formidable looking warrior, and were his tracking skills as good as Gilamar had mentioned then the Mando was just the person Ari needed to know. From her Clan the young woman had discovered that her brother had ventured off towards Wild Space, uncharted territory by-and-large in search of some sort of relic to which none were privvy. Accompanied by a small army of battle droids and hand-selected Mandalorians, Rhys had not made contact for over two months. The Clan presumed he had been killed, but Ari knew better than that.

"What do you think? Can we find him?"

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Jak Skirata]

Davin leaned forward in his char and ran his right hand through the mane of his pet Anooba that sat obediently next to him. A low, affectionate rumble came from the beast and its bushy tail flapped back and forth.

"Hmmm..." Before him on the table was a blaster, a sack with a datachron inside, and a list of his last contacts. Less than he normally worked with but he he'd worked with much less on several occasions. He exhaled sharply from his nose and reached out for the blaster and closed his eyes. The other objects on the table rumbled for a moment as Davin drew on the Force and looked into the blaster that Vox had brought in.

"You sure this is his?" Its not that he didn't believe her, but weapons, especially Mandalorian weapons, got passed around a lot. He'd have to seriously look into the weapon if he wanted to gleam anything useful from it.

[member="Ari Vox"]

 

[Ari Vox]

The blaster that she'd found looked like most any other you could find on the market, it's plain design was a key factor in its creation, a stipulation in its commission. The real beauty of the weapon lay in its inner workings, it was a highly tuned and incredibly powerful blaster, tossed to the side by Rhys Vox when he'd gotten another newer toy. He never was one to hold onto things.

"I'm sure it's his, there's a biometric scanner on it," She indicated to the grip of the blaster pistol where a small print reader was located, half concealed by its blend into the overall design. "It's locked to Rhys himself and was found in his possessions, at least what was left of his possessions,"

The rattling of the other items on the table seemed like a parlour trick, mind games and force powers weren't something she was familiar with at all, though she knew enough to want to avoid red glows on the battlefield. There had been a time when she'd thought such powers were revolutionary, figured that if one could control things with their minds then there was no reason they shouldn't control the world, raise up those around her who had grown up as husks and made lives as cutthroats. Now that idealism was replaced with cynicism, a cold detachment that pervaded her every thought.

[member="Davin Skirata"]