Fire of the Faithful

[Kad Tor]

It had been done and certainly a long time coming, but the faithful were in control of Mandalore once more. The planet was just a shell of what it had once been, but that mattered not. What mattered was the symbol it meant to those who had been in exile for so long. There had been sacrifices to this point, those who had departed because they could not see the vision or stay the course. In the end it had all proven to be the right way, the mando way.

The drum of war had beaten its rhythm too consistently in the past months without any respite. Tonight was meant to change that. Youth and culture had won out again, and two lovers had taken their vows even in the middle of the chaos as was tradition. Those gathered not only celebrated the new union, but the hope which lay ahead. Everything was pointing to a people still healthy, beaten, bruised, but alive and well. The galaxy would hear the song of the faithful for a long time to come.

Dxun was the setting for the raging fire which burned in the center of the makeshift outdoor courtyard they had made upon their settlement. Until Mandalore was rebuilt the moon would still serve as their base of operations. Kad looked forward to the day he could live on his homeworld again, but for now was happy to be among those he called brothers and sister.

Among them was a woman he had come to cherish more than his own life. While others would drink and pair off for the night, Kad would be silent and sober. His lot was to observe the happiness and hope his Lioness made an appearance. Their feelings for each other had yet to be spoken, but they were known without doubt. The two said more with their eyes than with their words as it was.

With mug of caf in hand, as the warrior dare not flirt with breaking his new found sobriety, Kad sat off in the distance as the crowd gathered. The horns blew the call to celebration, the warm fire more than inviting. It would not be long before the land team with celebration and the wild tales of his people.

Spoiler

[member="Nolan Detta"], [member="Ardgal Raxis"], [member="Rashae"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="The Matador"], [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"], [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Andrea Kryze"], [member="Garith Darkhold"], [member="Satine Detta"], [member="Briika Tor"], [member="Artemis Lux"], @Kista Bralor, [member="Alleria Fett"], [member="Aryn Spar"], [member="Popo"], [member="Aeden"] Miles, @anyone I'm forgetting...

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Zaz had worked to mend the rift he had created between himself and his brothers, though it was a slow wound to be healed. His actions had undoubtedly set his people back and it was not easily forgotten nor forgiven, yet many had welcomed him back into the fold while others maintained a neutrality with the man.

Drink in hand he sat away from the others, downing a sizable amount of his drink before reclining back on the bench where he sat.

​He glanced around a bit, wondering if he would notice any familiar faces from before he left the Mandalorian, very few. Putting the thought in the back of his mind he downed another sip of the liquid that filled his mug.

There was a certain air that surrounded a Mandalorian celebration, almost a pure reflection of the Mandalorians. Powerful, unified, and above all, meaningful. A smile crept over the man's face as he smoothed over the mohawk that laid on top of his head. "Not bad." He muttered, glancing down to the ale that filled his mug. He glanced over to Kad, a Mandalorian he knew little about but did in fact know of him, he raised his cup to the man in a curt salute before his eyes set on the fire raging before him.

[member="Kad Tor"]

 

[Rashae]

They wanted to celebrate at least getting Mandalore some kind of stability and recognition that Mandalore was once again under Mandalorian rule. Whatever that means of the ruined planet. Its ecosystems were shot all the hell and gone. They made a mess and now existence on the all but a waste planet was a bare thin line. Yet Rashae managed to find something salvageable of the situation. Her team was exhausted but a lot of answers, research and new processes were learned. That was something.

She didnt expect to be invited to this celebration as she thought it was just a Mandalorian thing but oddly she was 'expected' to attend. The woman checked on the last set of tests results, materials being harvested from the ash orbs work, hydroponic green houses going up, food being shipped by the cargo ship load as well as water, water purifiers and she hoped more air purifiers with a crap ton of filters. Theyw ere going through filters rapidly. They needed more gold. It was a innocuous element that should have no issue finding. It is used in electronics as for its conduit properties. Still it was a waste product more more often than not in mining and alloy making. That too was being shipped as she finally got an ETA on the gold. The process of turning pure gold into the flakes she needed was going to take time for that amount but slowly they would use it to 'bandage' the ozone of Mandalore.

Her pilot notified the doctor they were closing in on Dxun and the Mandalorian stronghold. She straightened up as she was in her formal Minister of Medicine atire of white with appropriate decorations of insignias and medals. Those trinkets that told people she was something worthy of note. She did look rather smart in the all white uniform. It was stark, stiff and formal. Her hair was up in the classic bun instead of down. The lady had gotten used to it being down.

She entered the courtyard as she stepped with purpose. The rest of the mandalorians caused her to be dwarfed but she walked as if she owned the very spot she walked on. Those ice blue eyes were unrelenting and had an icy fire that few was willing to cross. The woman looked at no one else as she was taking care of proprieties to these political proceedings. She sought Kad Tor, her host. Once she found her quarry she saluted the man sharply.

“Kad Tor. “ She then bowed slightly formaly and stiffly. “Doctor Rashae Lovous, Minister of Medicine of Alderaan, CEO of Gentec and the one who has been yelling into the Coms recently. How do you do?” her white gloved hand went out towards the man strongly as she looked up into his face. Her face just as stern and icy as her light blue eyes.

To Rashae this celebration might as well had been an Alderaanean ball or dinner. Everyone had an agenda and everyone had something to prove. Celebration was not in her vocabulary. It is quite possible the woman may not know how to relax or just let go. The serious woman knew Ardgal was on his way somewhere, but was not aware of when his ETA was. Her com was in her ear as was the feed going to the datapad at her hip was constant. There was a lot of work going on that needed monitoring. The astute scientist would not shirk her duty even as others danced and drank around her.

[member="Kad Tor"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"We need to reduce those production costs," Ardgal said handing the datapad back, "Its frankly, unacceptable."

Doctor Rogers, head of the R and D department for RMIA took it back, adjusting his glasses with a slight air of peeved about him, "Sir, that's as low as we can go without reducing the quality of these products or totally altering the product itself."

The two sat in Ardgal's newly refurbished office aboard the newly refurbished Atonement. It was Ardgal's now, not RMIA's and it had cost him quite a large sum to make it even close to that, or close to what he wanted. But the money was beginning to flow in with RMIA and now it was time for him to start to profit from his hard work. But this room would continue to be a battle ground, not one fought with bullets, but one fought with him against Doctor Rogers.

"I am not asking for you to re-design my HMG," the man said, his words hard like steel, "and I didn't ask you to give me excuses, I told you I want to make it cheaper and this is the part where you say 'yes sir' and start to find a way to make it cheaper. If you can't do that, then I will find someone who can. Is that clear?"

"What you ask for is impossible," Rogers said, losing his patience. "We would have to move from Quadranium steel to something cheaper."

"Good, then find something cheaper that will do the job or I will find someone who will," the Mandalorian ordered, his voice beginning to boom like a cannon. "What more--}

"Knock knock," Prometheus interjected sticking his head in the door, "Uh, you wanted me to tell you when we were fifteen minutes out, sir? Well, we're twenty. I thought you'd like to wrap this match up before I tell you we are fifteen out."

"Get the job done," Ardgal said rising from his chair, "Never forget that I can do worse things than merely firing you, Doctor."

The general made his way to his cabin, where the provisions were spartan, but adaquate. Tonight was a time to celebrate on Duxn, but it was hard to celebrate when he know that there was still so much to be done. It was hard for him to think of anything else when his people still needed better homes, clean water, fresh air, and a safe place to call their own. There were still too many orphans out there and too many homeless widows. He sighed, neatly folding a white undershirt and setting it in the laundry hamper. They would find a way to make it right. [member="Rashae"] and her team of geniuses were on the case, and he had full faith in their abilities.

The cybrog stored the ideas away and slipped into his armor. It was a Mandalorian party, he didn't expect they'd appreciate the finer things of his three piece suit or his uniform. Plus, it was a Mandalorian party. He might have to kill someone. The man secured his dark beskar plates to the red body glove that hugged him like a security blanket. With a quick check to his gauntlets, the man grabbed his havoc carbine just as he felt the Atonement revert back to real space. The man had gotten the process down to an art now.

When the Corvette landed at last, he strode down the loading ramp, followed Virgil, Prometheus, Homer, and all the other Godkillers. They had earned their right to the table with the work they had done too. Ardgal didn't need his data analysis chip to spot his love from out of the crowd. There was something about a man in love that just naturally made that possible. He slipped through the other armor clad warriors to her side, slipping his arm around her and giving Rashae's hand a gentle squeeze. When she was done talking and ready he pulled her close for a soft kiss, "Good work back there. Can I get you anything?"

Then he nodded respectfully towards his countryman, [member="Kad Tor"].

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

The night was just beginning and yet the tate of the Kyr'tsad had long since begun their celebration. Flames lashed the air, casting long shadows of the Death Watch warriors who were busy passing around bottles of Ne'tra gal and madly dancing across the courtyard. The cinder walls of the courtyard echoed the clangs of fist on metal and amplified the cheering conversations being had through swirls of dust and dirt kicked up by celebrating warriors.

It was the first night Ven could feel the warmth of progress since the day the Mando'ade fractured. Since the day he watched Keldabe burn. He stood among the crowd, drinking from his father's flask and watching as more and more people began arriving at the occasion. [member="Kad Tor"], one of the many "fearless leaders" of the people was the first big name to arrive. Ven had no opinion on the boy, yet, other than what he knew about his older brother. Killed fighting his father's men in some small skirmish, stands to reason this boy was no less ignorant of his own people's culture.

But tonight...tonight was not the time for starting fights. They had their homeworld back and Ven was going to give the boy a chance. But then, there was the traitor. [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] had guts to show himself here after siding with those dominion aruetiise. It wouldn't bother Ven at all if someone decided to take their beskade and show everyone exactly what those guts looked like. He sneered in contempt, spitting on the ground before watching @Rashae and [member="Ardgal Raxis"] make their appearance as well. No celebration was perfect after all.

But there was one thing he had planned that would bring pride back to this occasion, despite the encroachment of traitors and outsiders.

Inhaling, Ven looked to the stars peeking out behind the clouds. In preparation for this day, Death Watch had organized a traditional tribal dance that's style dates back to the days of the Taung on Coruscant. A Bui'redalur it was called in the people's tongue, an expression of the inner spirit. Yet another part of Mando'ade culture that was being left behind in the recent press forward.

As the procession continued to flow in, Ven cast aside his flask and called out over the crowd in coarse rhythm.

"Mando'yaim'kar'ta brokar'a su dralshy'a!"1 With both fists raised, Ven began beating his bare chest in continuous rhythm, the entirety of the Death Watch answering his call with a simultaneous cheer

"Oya!" the Kyr'tsad cried, calmly leaving their various activities and flocking behind their leader in columns; beating their chests in rhythm with him.

"Tracyn aru'ike kihir Mando, shi nau'ur dralshy'a Mand'ade!"2 The entire group chanted at once, bending their knees and beating their bodies in a percussionist rhythm.

"Mhi naa'chaab'la, mhi tsikala!" the tribalist dance and new chants continued for two minutes of uninterrupted pride. The energy was tangible, it could be felt in the faces and actions of the dancers. Even non-death watch began to join in.

Any who wanted to join was welcome to do so. For today was Mandalore's day and their pride would be shown.

______________

1: "Mandalore's heart beats stronger still!"

2: "Fire cannot make the Mandalorians weaker, it only forges stronger Mandalorians!"

3: "We have no fear, we are prepared!"

 

[Andrea Kryze]

Fear was only the one thing to fear itself. Water could flood and destroy, but it was the basis of life. Earthquakes were caused by tectonic shifts in welcome of change. Fire could burn… either way.

The child sat in a more distant part of the party, slowly sipping a canister of water as she closed her eyes. Her home was nothing like it used to be. Destroyed and churned into wasteland, she saw no reason for celebration. Yes, the warriors she had just decided to join took it back; but there was still too much work to do…

Swirling the lukewarm water in her canister, feeling the liquid splash inside, she struggled to push her emotions behind a strong, sturdy, emotionless face. Her body language was crumpled by post traumatic stress, but her face was hardened enough to fool people into believing nothing could faze her. She was a Mandalorian after all… she had to be.

She had joined the warriors to rebuild and protect her old home however; not drink and dance cold nights away. Discontented and restless, she waited for the night to be over.

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Weathered black lacquered paint, scared from long past wars. The beskar’gam of Garith Darkhold, a ancient deign devoid of technology. The light of the fire eliminated part of his features as the shadows danced upon the others. The tattered warn torn red cape fluttered within the light breeze.

He knew it to be a joyful occasion as he approached with bottle in hand. As other did, he watched the dancing and chanting. As always he never wore a buy’ce. If he did this would be one of those accessions he would not wear it. It was a time to celebrate and a time for your vod to see your face.

The Elder Kashi and Mando’ade came steadily closer to the crowds. He briefly stopped and looked over to a young woman, [member="Andrea Kryze"]. She was to his right and sitting alone. So he approached.

“Su cuy’gar”, for Garith he spoke softly. It more than likely sounded gruff. He meant well though. Past hello he was unsure what to say. He was not one to go around cheering people up. “So it’s a party and you’re sitting alone. Are you ok?”

Lexicon / translation:
Buy’ce = helmet
Su cuy’gar = Hello

 

[Andrea Kryze]

[member="Garith Darkhold"]




Andrea's peridot eyes widened. Lifting her head from her palm, her hair bounced as she sharply turned to the gruff warrior beside her. She immediately sat up straighter and while feeling a nervousness about his sturdy presence, she simply lowered her canister and spoke honestly, "Not like this party is bad or anything…" - the way she flinched at the Death Watch's growing chant barely hinted that she really did not like this, however - "… But, like…"

She stammered for a moment or so, struggling to speak her mind without disrespect or offense. She was cautious about telling this stranger. What if he did not like what she had to say? Nonetheless, the jaded girl needed to speak her frustrations somehow. Sighing, she lowered her head. The fire in the distant burned, as if showing that there was so much more underneath this forced calm demeanor.

"There's still so much to do…"

 

[Garith Darkhold]

[member="Andrea Kryze"]

The external features should little on how the Elder felt, a subconscious act of self preservation. To many years being spent trapped between a life, a mixed dark politics. Long ago he had been questioned many times of his mixed politics. He was always asked who his loyalty lay with. The Sith? The Empire? The Mando’ade? He had played that game well and very few knew of his long mysterious past.

By the very demeanor he could tell there was a level of intimidation. It was not his intention to cause discomfort to the youngling. In an exceptional rare moment Garith bent his knees. He did not take a knee. He did not fully sit down. He just lowered his body so he was just not standing over the young woman. His large frame and with the extra weight of the armor it would have been more comfortable to have a knee on the ground. To the Elder Kashi that would a symbolic act of giving up. An act he has never done in his long live. Death would be a far more preferable.

“Rebuild we will, my little sister”, he attempted a softer tone. The words were much softer. “Tonight is not about getting drunk and dancing. It is about reconnecting with our kin. It is to reconfirm our passion and our love for our people. Tonight we remind each other we do not stand alone. We stand united as a family. With the rising sun of tomorrow, we shall stand together knowing well we don’t stand alone. There are many of us here. All of us have the thought to rebuild. All of us have brought resources. I have from the many endeavors I have collected through my long life. Even my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren have contributed to this. I have sent for vast fleets and aid. In the morning we will have Royal Alderaan Engineers that have knowledge in reterraforming planets here to help. There will be material to rebuild, food for those who are hungry. We do have much work to do. We do have hope for the future and that is worth raising a glass over and celebrating over.”

Garith knew there was much to set right in the coming days. Tonight what needed to be set right was in the hearts and minds of the Mnado’ade. They needed unity. They needed direction. Some have come together. They just needed to build upon that for it was far more important than a building being constructed on Mandalore.

 

[Andrea Kryze]

Soaking in the elder's words, the sudden awakening to her desire for unity with other flooded her. Suddenly nostalgic, her features unintentionally softened. The glimpse of a wounded child could be seen here. She became slumped, only a little, in her deep sense of loneliness. Maybe… maybe she was not the only one to lose something in this corp. Maybe she could find someone to relate to here.

Some form of connection with othes was direly needed.

She had just joined a group of hardcore, stiff fighters after a tragedy of lose. Andrea tried deathly hard to reach the expectations of a warrior. In the process, it seemed as if she was made of stone. Up to this point, she was trying to please the warriors but was always alone. The despair flooded her body, causing her to swiftly raise an arm and wipe any tears forming in her eyes. Looking up at the warrior, she shook as she mumbled, "Vor entye."

The violent switch to Mando'a was caused by her desire for warmth again. Warmth like the flames of the bonfire ahead. Suddenly, the ache to make things better was amplified, yet maybe she could slow down for a moment. Her family was not coming back from the dead anytime soon. Maybe… maybe she had the opportunity to find a new one.

"… Ni ganar nayc solus. Ner aliit was slain o'r te akaan. Ni joined te mando'ade at prevent ibac teh happening tug'yc…"

Tears started filling her eyes as she looked away, "Ni ganar tried at cuyir strong… a, Ni cuy' solus. Cuyir bic childish at copad them norac? Ni ganar naas jii at ease this…"





________________________
Translations:
1.) "Thank you."
2.) "… I have no one. My family was slain in the war. I joined the Mando'ade to prevent that from happening again."
3.) "… I have tried to be strong… but, I am alone. Is it childish to want them back? I have nothing now to ease this…"
- Some of the words wouldn't translate

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Dxun. A world with a long and colored history, one that made him chuckle slightly as he thought back over all the discussions he had with Raylia about trying to visit and gather what data they could, explore the ancient ruins...so many plans that never came to light. He held no anger at the fact that certain things had not come to pass, he looked back on the memories fondly. Meanwhile a ding resounded in his helmet letting him know that he had arrived in orbit. This was followed soon after by a second, this one coming from Nubia StarDrives HQ. They had received his message about sending aid in any form they could. As of the moment there wasn't much outside providing transport for families of those displaced and economic support. An addendum let him know that they had managed to secure enough beskar from RMIA as well as Mandalorian smiths to help in the reconstruction of his old A-Wing. All that was mentioned was that "a few changes" had been necessary due to the shape the craft was in when it arrived. A quick thank you for their timely response was the only message he would send.

He angled his 'Avadon' gunship down towards the surface, following the instructions given for finding a landing spot. The metal covered canopy slid back and he climbed down from the cockpit, while the armored flight suit he wore hadn't included his first class bloodstripes last he had worn it, they were prominently displayed this time. He removed his helmet as he approached the bonfire and grabbed a drink. [member="Rashae"] and [member="Ardgal Raxis"] were here as well. He would have to make a point to catch up with them at some point. As of yet he didn't notice any other Verd clansmen or women gathered. For now though he just drank and watched the traditional dance [member="Ven Vizsla"] and his clan put on. At his hip hung his Punisher pistols, and on the left, behind the holster as always was Jenni's saber.

[member="Andrea Kryze"] [member="Garith Darkhold"] [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] [member="Kad Tor"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Their energy was only matched by Preliat's indifference to it all. He wasn't even sure why he was here. He stared at the fire, sitting alone. He only wore a white coat, forsaking wearing his armor. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to put it on anymore. He wasn't even sure why he was here. Part of him wanted to reconcile and come back to his people. Part of him wanted to kill everyone here.

He stared at the fire, watching the various people dance about. He flexed his hands on his knees, watching the cancer of the Death Watch appear again in force. A cancer that he had been a part of. Mandalmotors bore the scorch mark of a Shriek-Hawk at his hand. He had a tattoo of the Shriek-hawk, albeit not the same as what the Death Watch put out there.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He had given his tomahawk to [member="Vilaz Munin"] as a sign that he was serious about his departure. It was times like these that he wished he hadn't. A Beskad dagger and crushgaunts wouldn't do much if someone decided to get rowdy with him. Then again- he wasn't the Wolf of Manda'yaim for being soft-hearted. The old Preliat would have cursed them all for dancing. Now, Preliat sat idle, watching what remained of his people attempt at being merry. No matter how hard they would succeed, he was an ever-present wound in the force- something that any person attuned to the force could feel. So much pain and rage welled within Preliat that he caused a great disturbance- and to some, he empowered them.

Needless to say, Preliat wasn't smiling or drinking like his vode.

[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] l [member="Andrea Kryze"] l [member="Garith Darkhold"] l [member="Ven Vizsla"] l [member="Rashae"] l

 

[Kad Tor]

They came. Kad was pleased as he many nodded toward him, and even [member="Rashae"] had introduced herself to him. She approached for conversation, and while he did not want to be rude, his eyes were looking for one woman. [member="Artemis Lux"], the Lioness of Dxun. It was rare that hey were together with the group and not fighting or advancing the Mandalorian cause. It was a night for celebration and becoming a unified people once again. His eyes lifted to the doctor, and he nodded.

"Well met," he said with a small smile. "I do well. How about yourself? You seem to be among our people a lot more these days," Kad suggested as he indicated [member="Ardgal Raxis"] who was near.

Kad was happy that warriors were pairing off or finding lovers. For their people to go forward propagation was something that was required. As Kad looked at the crowd which was gathered he could not help but smile at the diversity which made up who the Mando'ade were. This was something they believed in, and Kad was determined to see them all unite under one cause. He was not the sole ruler, but over the course of time, he had become a leader his people had looked to.

Even the Death Watch were there. Kad was uneasy about this knowing his brother had been murdered by members of the Death Watch. The traditional dance which they had began intrigued Kad. Was it time for their groups to come together once again? It wasn't something he could decide, but his mind was open to whatever was required to go forward as a people. The fighting and killing of their own was enough. Perhaps the beginning needed to be an intentional olive branch to [member="Zaz Tal'Verda"].

[member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] | [member="Andrea Kryze"] | [member="Garith Darkhold"]

 

[Garith Darkhold]

“You’re welcome”, Garith said to the young [member="Andrea Kryze"]. The young lady told a story Garith had heard before. The Elder Kashi had suffered tragedy in the past. Long ago the planet Kashi was destroyed and Garith was one of the last few Kashi to survive. It took him a long time to start to get over the heart ache of losing everything in a day.

“It is not childish to miss your parents”, Garith was sharing again. Much had changed since he walked away from being a Sith Lord. “A long time ago I lost my parents to. It took me a long time to walk away from the hate ling enough to start to grieve. It is a process I have just started here recently. What you feel is not abnormal. It is good to remember those who came before us, to love and honor their deeds. It is ok to say you love and miss them. My answer is, don’t forget them. Let the good of what you remember fill you and not the pain of loss.”

 

[Andrea Kryze]

A sigh of both relief and exhaustion escaped her... was she really not alone in this? She thankfully smiled at the Mandalorian ([member="Garith Darkhold"]). Just as she opened her mouth to speak again... she felt this... horrid... could it be described as a hole? Somehow, she felt some sort of presence. It was dark. Raising he eyebrow, she thought, Funny, I'm not the intuitive type.

She looked towards the direction of the mentally draining crimson circle. She noticed a certain man ([member="Preliat Mantis"]), sitting alone near the fire. He was that hole. Legitimate fear spread across her as she looked back at the Mandalorian, "Am I the only one who feels that?" She faintly whispered.

Eyes darted back towards the... wound... She was confused. Instinctively lowering her hand towards her holster, just to realize she didn't bring one tonight, her "odd sixth sense," as she called it, was sending her warning signal after warning signal.

Why though?


[member="Kad Tor"] [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] [member="Ven Vizsla"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] @Rashae @Zaz Tal'Verda

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Garith looked at the young lady [member="Andrea Kryze"], he gathered she must be around his Great Grand Daughter’s age. Then he looked over to what she was feeling. @Preliant Mantis. Garith had felt the man’s presence earlier. However for a long time Garith had only hung with with some pretty drank sinister figures. For a long time he held the title of being a Sith. Prelaint’s vibe was shaded with the darker aspects of life. It was people like Prelaint…Garith was most accustomed to being around. It’s not a party unless there is some element of danger.


“Are you force sensitive”, he ask while he shifted his gaze back to Andrea. “It is ok if you’re”, he said because he did not wish to give the wrong impression about how he felt. “If you’re you would not be the only one here.”

 

[Rashae]

Mandalorians were if anything else, direct and often simple in their statements. It was not to say simple minded just they were not verbose. “I do well Alor Kad Tor. “ But then he seemed distracted.

Then The Raxis showed up as the black and red of the GodKillers and their Alor right center making a beeline towards her. Rashae couldnt help but smile as the towering black and red went to circl his arms around and stake his claim so to speak of the white clad doctor. “Hey there. “ As she blushed at the kiss he provided in public view. “Yes, it seems I find reason to be in the company of Mandalorians more these days. “ The reason partly ahd to do with Ardgal, the other part having to do with Alderaan's relationship with Mandalorians due to their past.

“Good work? I'm just getting started with Mandalore. The team at the Hapan Cluster I think I can finally pull out. Give them a week or two leave and get them to Mandalore. Myrkr is stable, Onderon colony is stable, Atrisia is looking better. “ Atrisia wasnt a Mandalorian world but had strong diplomatic relations with Alderaan and the Free World Coalition that The Queen of Alderaan headed up. Rashae had quite a bit of responsibilities.

Ardgal's arm around her waist seemed to make a few of those disappear, maybe more than a few. Her smile softened as did her demeaner soften. “I could use a drink, but not sure how Mandalorians are stocked on Alderaanean red. If not a good well aged Corellian whiskey will do. Neat, straight up, slightly chilled. “ The woman did know precisely what she wanted.

Then that pretty head turned towards Ardgal Raxis and give him a bit of a glare. “You are late. “ One rule of etiquette, don't keep a lady waiting. Though by cultural standards this may not apply here, but if he was going to be her man, she did expect certain things. It wasnt a harsh glare but it may let those know around her that the lady in the white Alderaanean Medical Ministry Uniform was not a push over.

Rashae had gotten good looking to see what was around her within the tight confines of his hold. There was a certain comfort about it and she never complained. She smiled as she saw Prometheus, Virgil, Hermes and the other Godkillers. Raxis clan represent. That face turned back to Kad Tor as those ice blue eyes held a bit of a lightning like fire, that odd mixture of cool and smooth as silk with the white blue fire of a star swirling and mingling within that doctor/scientist. The one that scowled at her before the rhythmic traditional dance occurred would get that same blue fire directed right back at him with little to no fear.

[member="Kad Tor"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Ven Vizsla"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat leaned forward, standing tall over the fire. The white coat he was wearing made him stand out among the Mando'ade around him, a stark contrast to the bulky material of their armor. Then again, his personal Beskar'kandar probably weighed more than theirs. He turned his head towards the woman, and made his way over to the small blonde woman. Preliat was a predator, and it showed when he walked. He shifted his weight constantly, as if constantly preparing to strike. Although, without his tomahawk, truthfully Preliat's lethality was lessened. Although not diminished in the slightest.

Preliat sat down next to the woman. Without a word, without a sound. He did not acknowledge the man next to her, as well-known as he was. Preliat leaned forward, resting his chin on his armored knuckles. He didn't say anything for a moment, before speaking.

"It's beneficial to refrain from looking and speaking when you're talking about someone. I'm going to guess you...feel me, rather than just see me. Not many new Mandalorians have seen my face."

His dark brown eyes shifted to face the woman. They were hard. Cruel. Pained.

"And who are you, girl?"

[member="Andrea Kryze"] l [member="Rashae"] l [member="Garith Darkhold"]

 

[Andrea Kryze]

The child raised an eyebrow at the mention of the force. "The Force? … I've heard of it before, but I never-"

It was then that the feeling intensified. Horror, creeping up… He walked towards her. When he sat down, wordless, her eyes widened. He was creeping her out. She immediately jumped up when he spoke, "Uh- Ni cuy' Ni ceta! Ni…"

Stepping back, the girl was becoming overflooded was red warning signs. Whether it was the force or pink unicorn-bantha hybrids giving her these warnings, she did not care. It was too strong… too dark. Physically turning pale, her unrested eyes darted to the person she was conversing with and then back to the black hole that had joined them… the predator.

"A-Andrea… Aliit Kryze…"

Her hand was sub-knowingly hovering over her blaster. A defense mechanism. Her eyes briefly darted towards the person she had been talking to again.









-------------------------------
Translations:
- 1.) "I am sorry! I…"
- 2.) "A-Andrea… Clan Kryze…"
[member="Garith Darkhold"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"It is unbecoming of a Mandalorian to apologize profusely."

The Wolf walked forward and stoked the fire, throwing a log onto it. The flickering shadows painted him like a demon in the waxing light. He ran a hand through his hair, fixing the braid behind his ear. Preliat Mantis was one of the few Mandalorians without a clan, simply belonging to the Mando'ade. He crouched near the flames, speaking to Andrea, while facing the fire. His brown eyes, dark as they were, reflected the flames nearly perfectly.

"Do you know who I am?"

[member="Andrea Kryze"]