From Here on Out (Open/ME)

[stalemeister]

"Are you sure about this." Growled a green skinned male twi-lek as he guided the ship towards the steadily expanding planet. Stalemeister was sitting behind the pilot and barely heard the question over the pounding voices in his head. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of anticipation and nerves that made him sick to his stomach. "This is what I want Naz." He replied almost convincingly. He knew that Naz, the other pirates and even his former grav-ball teammates thought he was a pipe dream chasing fool to be chasing after the mandalorians. But captain Naz had been a twi-lek of his word and after Stalemeister had paid his debts he was given passage to the jungle world.

The Fondorian had never been content with his place in life, not since he was born into his homeworld's lowest caste. Piracy had been a step up but it didn't afford him the sense of purpose and belonging that he longed for. He craved clarity of purpose, not the wanton destruction and plunder of Naz's pirate crew. In his early days with the crew he had heard stories of the armored mandalorian super commandos and their strict warrior code. Stalemeister had perhaps romanticized the warriors in his mind but that had idea had become an obsession. He resolved to go to the mandalorians, prostrate himself before them and prove himself worthy for membership in the warrior families.

Stalemeister's thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the shaking of the ship as it passed through the atmosphere. He grabbed at his seat restraints as Naz fought against the force of planetary entry and atmospheric winds. "This is why we should just stick to space." Naz growled at the controls, he was missing the ease of zero-g. Finally he brought the ship back under control and followed the mando air-traffic control's instructions to a temporary berth in Hyllyard city.

_____________________________________________________________________________________


The good-byes had been short and that was ok. Stalemeister wasn't a man who looked back and as the pirate ship's engine glow disappeared into the evening sky he turned his attention towards finding mandalorians. He began at the most logical place, cantinas, and was eventually pointed towards an establishment allegedly frequented by the main mandalorian clan of the planet, the Australii. Stalemeister made the usual inquiry with a member of the bars staff, ordered a tarisian ale and took a seat at an empty table.

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

A drip of dark crimson blood rolled down from Rizann’s lip. Reveling in the pain it brought a smile to his lips. There was no moment of reprieve from the festivities. The fight was far from over. The next swing came in came in and Rizann brought up his left arm and blocked.

The other Mando’ade was a large near human, with long dark hair and unkempt bread. A wicked smile of pleasure was on this man’s face as well. Around them was a cantina filled with spectators. The boisterous cheering could be heard down the street.

[member="stalemeister"]

 

[stalemeister]

Stalemeister nursed his ale, savoring each sip as he scanned the crowd. He didn't have many credits left and he figured that if he was unable to make contact or turned away by the mandalorians he had enough to survive a couple days at most. While captain Naz had kept his word, he took most of Stale's wealth as a severance fee. Stale was only left with a few hundred credits he had managed to smuggle onto his person, the lightweight armor he currently wore, and a hold-out blaster pistol inside his right hover-boot.

He had noticed that he had begun to attract some stares. He felt a ping of excitement as he let himself believe he was about to meet a mandalorian contact. He felt someone's eyes on him and turned to see a young woman approaching. She wore a scowl that seemed to match her mandalorian armor and Stale couldn't help but grow nervous at the pace of her approach.
"Uh, can I-" Stale began. But she wasted no time grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing him to the floor. The cantina's patrons immediately stopped their conversation and formed a cheering circle.
"You think a dirty pirate is worth an audience with clan Australis?" She asked mockingly, as she cocked her leg back to deliver a brutal kick to Stale's abdomen. However before her boot connected, Stalemeister rocketed off the floor, propelled by his hover-boots. He slammed into her armored torso with a dull thud and a pop as his shoulder dislocated on impact with the beskargarm. Stale and the mandalorian fell back to the floor in a heap.
Losing no time, the mandalorian woman recovered and had rolled onto of the Fondorian, pinning him to the ground. "Oh, going for the mount, I like that." He said between pained grunts as he struggled to protect his head from the unrelenting blows. At this point he could barely register the roar of the crowd and he was grateful that the pain had turned into numbness. He was about to let go, to drop his arms and let a final merciful punch send him to unconsciousness, but he remembered the Ithorians he murdered. He remembered the cold calculus that had deadened his soul and convinced him to kill.

He activated his hover-boots again at full power and drove his knees into the mandalorian's back. His knees popped and he screamed with pain, but the Mandalorian had been knocked off balance and gave Stale the time he needed to reach into his boot. Fingers closed around his hold-out pistol and he whipped it out, pointing it under her chin and squeezing. In his daze he was confused when her head didn't explode into superheated goo and instead she groaned and crumpled to the ground. She was lucky that it had been set to stun.

Laying flat on his back, Stale wheezed in pain. He tasted blood in his mouth and he couldn't tell if there was cheering or his eardrums had burst. A voice cut through the din. A powerful, gravelly voice asking "What're you drinking boy?"

"Tarisian Ale." Stale replied weakly.

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport.
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

The local cantina was jumping today, as it always was. Did [member="Kaine Australis"] know just how wild this cantina was?

So far several more punches were exchanged between the two men. It appeared well matched. Appearances were deceiving as the Alor’ad Rizann did have a physical advantage of speed, strength, as well as endurance. Maybe some noticed this as the other man took off with a dead run aiming his shoulder to Rizann’s mid section.

Riz feet left the ground was carried several feet back. His back hit the wall with a loud thump. His response, Riz growled angrily and slammed his head straight down into the face other the other Mandalorian.

Stunned the man let go of Riz. Staggered backwards a little Riz leapt out arm stretched out. His massive bicep lunched right into the man’s throat. The man close lined fell backwards. Rizann fell with him and they both went through a nearby table.

Stunned himself Riz started to roll to his right while shaking his head. Blinking a few times he first climbed to his knees then to his feet. Upon standing he looked around for his fighting partner. There he was passed out still on a broken table.

People still cheering the glorious battle on, Rizann staggered over towards the bar.

Staggering over he noticed someone he had not noticed in this bar yet. Riz’s voice boomed out towards [member="stalemeister"] .

Tarisain ale? Riz got a quizzical look and laughed out loud!

“There is only dha gal here”, Riz motioned to the bar keep. He held up two to the wookie. The large hairy beast grabbed two huge metal ale mugs, ran them under the tap. Two full rather frosty mugs of Mandalorian ale.

“So what brought you to this chit hole”, Riz replied to Stale while picking up his fresh drink. Not waiting for a toast Riz started to pound back the drink, taking a rather large drink!

Translation:
Dha gal – dark ale

 

[stalemeister]

Stalemeister accepted help to the bar and didn't have the strength to argue when a large mug was thrust in front of him. Stale looked at the frothy dark liquid and wondered if his jaw was broken. Everything hurt but he had enough social awareness to understand the need to accept the drink. He brought the mug to his lips and drank deeply, letting it wash him in warmth.

He finished about half before putting it back on the counter and turning his attention towards the man sitting next to him.
Though his eyes were beginning to swell shut, Stale could see the blood and bruises. He could tell that [member="Rizann Bralor"] was a fighter, the wounds somehow made him seem even more authentic, as if he were in his element.

"I came to join the mandalorians. Ended up fighting one. I would've killed her, but the blaster was set to stun, good thing she wasn't trying to kill me, right?" Stale replied sarcastically.

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport.
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

With the mug empty Riz slammed it down on the bar. As the wookiee started to fill it back up Riz looked over to his new drinking buddy. “Came to join up have you”, Riz grinned from ear to ear. Surly it would have unnerved more civilized people within the galaxy. There was just sometimes the vong tech flowing through Riz just scared the piss out of some people. He was a monster. He knew it; those who knew him knew it. One damn good reason he was in Clan Bralor!

“Ok, first lesson little brother”, Riz used the galactic common for brother so Stale would start to understand the first lesson. “We maybe a warrior culture. We’re a happy dysfunctional family. We may train hard even in a cantina but we don’t kill each other. She was testing your faith, your heart. We call our heart, our soul, we call it our manda. If I call you vod, I’m calling you my brother. “

Riz picked up his refilled mug and took another drink. Another taking another drink he looked back over to Stale, “Go ahead and ask questions vod. You have a long way to go, to the distance that we teach our children as soon as they can walk.”



[member="stalemeister"]

 

[stalemeister]

He had said "us", Stale wondered if he was a Mandalorian. There was something deeply unsettling about the man's smile. It reminded him of the diseased corpses on Fondor whose decay created ghastly smiles on the faces of the dead. The Mandalorian's smile and the horror accompanied with it were fleeting, and the man's tone became almost fatherly as he spoke about the camaraderie of the warrior clans.

This was what he had searched for, the elusive goal of family, purpose and acceptance he had been so desperate to find. He quickly forgot his fear as he grew excited that he was being spoken too and not punched. Stale filed away that part about 'not killing each-other' and thanked his lucky stars his blaster had been set to stun. "Uh yeah, sorry about that." He said, apologizing for the callous suggestion that he'd have killed the woman. Stale knew he was a bantha out of the desert here, he would have to be cautious not to insult them.

"Thanks for calling me brother." Stale raised his mug in a toast to his companion. "My name's Stalemeister, i'm from Fondor. I would know your name, vod."

[member="Rizann Bralor"]

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport.
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

Riz went and wiped some foam and blood from his face. When the mess was cleared away, the split that should have been still there, it was gone….completely healed. How long had it been fully healed under that mess. Regeneration was not uncommon with some races within the galaxy.

“The name is Rizann of clan Bralor. I’m an Alor’ad. Basically what the Alor’ad means I’m second in command. The Alor of a clan, he or she is chief of their clan. The leader of all our people is the Manda’alore. The current Mand’alore is Mand’alore the Infernal. She is young but she has a fire to her.”
Riz slid his empty mug back up on the bar. Again the wookiee filled it up. “This fresh new recruit’s drinks are on me vod”, Riz picked up his mug and then looked back over to Stale.

“Stalemeister”, nodding in thought Riz look over then young man. “So how much combat have you seen?” Riz was never good at this mentoring thing. Someone like [member="Strider Garon"] was far better equipped. Or even Riz’s Alor [member="Arumi Zy"] would be better suited.

[member="stalemeister"]

 

[stalemeister]

Stale did his best to absorb the curious language of the Mandalorians. He filed words like 'Alor'ad' and the others he had heard into his mental dictionary. If he was to try to be a mandalorian, he would need to start speaking like one.

"For 3 years I served on a pirate crew. You would call captain Naz a coward. He'd just say that he was risk-averse. We prayed upon the weak and the vulnerable, there was no higher honor in it. Jettisoning refugees into hard vacuum is a senseless act and all too common on Naz's ships. I know how to kill, but i'm not a warrior." Stale admitted. There couldn't be any lying to the Mandalorians. If one of them was willing to beat him to a pulp to test 'his heart', he was sure they'd see through any lies.

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport.
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

“A pirate crew, well”, Riz shrugged his shoulders. It did not seem to bother him. “There is a wide range of folks around here. Some have done far worse than jettisoning refugees out air locks. We’re not savage animals though. We’re soldiers and we’re family and we live by a code. If you continue to walk this path, you must leave your old one behind.”

“We call this code we live by the Resol’nare. Loosely translated that means The Six Actions. The code is this spoken in galactic commen.”

“This is the six actions. Wear armor. Speak Mandalorian. Defend the family. Help the clan to succeed. Raise children as Mandalorians. Rally to the cause of the Mand’alore.”

“Education and armor, Self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader. All help us survive.”

“Spoken in the tongue of our people it sounds like this.”


"Ibic haar Resol'nare, Ke'juri beskar'gam, Ke'jorhaa'i Mando'a, K'ara'novo alit, Ke'gaa'tayli aliit bralir, Ke'ba'juri sa Mando'ade, Ke'shekemi haar Mand'alor.”
"Ba'jur, beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor- An vencuyan mhi.”

Riz pulled out a small book out of a front pocket on his shirt. “It is the book of Kad Ha’rangir the destroyer god. In the back of it the Reslo’nare is written in my father’s hand writing. It was his and now it is yours. Study it. Absorb it. Find the heart of the manda within you vod. Also be careful with the teachings of the destroyer god. It is our path but it is a dark path”

[member="stalemeister"]

 

[stalemeister]

In his pirating days he had heard that mandalorians accepted recruits from all backgrounds, if they were willing to adapt and adopt their ways. It was these rumors that had brought him to Myrkr. Stale had wanted a clean slate and a new life. He finished his drink and motioned for the wookiee bartender to refill it. He enjoyed the small "I'm not one for looking back [member="Rizann Bralor"]." He said with conviction before listening to the Mandalorian explain the 'Resol'nare', their warrior code.

He considered each of the 6 tenets as the Mandalorian described them. He wouldn't need to be told to wear his armor twice when he earned it. Earlier he had slammed into his Mandalorian challenger at full speed and had barely knocked her over, while he had earned a dislocated shoulder on impact. The other five actions were simple, easy to understand and accept. It No doubt the resiliency of mandalorian culture was acceptance of recruits accompanied with an unwavering demand for them to adhere to the culture and traditions. Stale had long since decided that this was a fair trade. He had nothing anyway.

He graciously accepted the book, studying its outer binding for a moment. "Thank you for this gift. I will work to honor your father's words."

 

[Cynthia Solus]

[member="stalemeister"] X [member="Rizann Bralor"]

Cynthia walked into the cantina with low energy from a hard days work. She had the short sleeved armorweave on under her pink armor since the day was pretty humid and warm. The woman even carried both weapons along with a water bag with its tube tucked under the seam of her helmet. There was nothing left inside it so now she was simply nibbling on the nib. Looking around the crowded place she could not see any empty tables, all of them had been claimed by vod of other clans or merchants and common folk. She looked towards the bar to see an empty stool. A small sharp sigh escaped her lips disliking sitting next to others after a long day.

She walked up to the seat and sat down next to the two. One was a mandalorian and the other seemed a nobody. "Su cuy'gar Solus skotah tihaar, bal hailir ibic laam pirun Gedet'ye." She said speaking Mandalorian. "Elek, Kih'parjai" The bartender said tanking the water bag from off her. She couldn't help but listen into the conversation next to her as she waited. For some reason the mandalorian was explaining the Resol’nare to a stranger. The man had not proved his worth and vod should know by now our people shouldn't be freely taking people, complete strangers in. "tion'jor gar rejorhaa'ir ibic ge'hutuun te Resol'nare?" She asked knowing the commoner could not understand a single word she spoke.

"Kaysh an di'kut." She said with bitter words. "Look you can't just become a mandalorian just like that. Even if you know the six actions you wont be accepted into the mandalorian society. Hell a thirteen year old has more sway than you around here. To be a true Mandalorian you must pass your Verd'goten. A trial we all go though upon our coming of age. We Mandalorians, my vod trained from whelps for our ascension to adulthood. It not only tests your abilities to fight but to survive the impossible and be as tough as our beskar'gam's. If you think you have what it takes, Prove it." She said plainly as the bar tender passed her tihaar and water bag. "Ask any of us around here. It was no easy feat. My buir dropped me on Dxun for a month. All I had was my armor, a bottle of water and a knife. Everything I was taught was put into use."

Translation:
1 Hello *You're still alive* One short spirit, and fill this with water please
2 Yeah, no problem
3 Why you tell this bandit the Six Actions?
4 He's an Idiot

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Location: Hyllyard City, local dive cantina near the starport.
Gear: Weathered green fatigues. (X1 Mandalorian ripper pistol, x1 beskar boot knife)

Rizann could not help but smile. There was a sense of pride within his eyes and maybe even a bit of hidden wisdom. “Su cuy’gar”, Riz said to the female with pink on her armor, [member="Cynthia Raxis"] .

The young woman was not wrong. She also had spirit, Riz loved that. She may have missed why Riz explained the Resol’nare first. To live, to breathe the life of Mando’ade, it was a choice. Riz wanted to make damn sure this young man know what the kark he was getting into. That and just like Cythia said, you can’t just claim to be a Mando’ade. They call it the six actions for a reason.

“She is not wrong there”, he looked back over to [member="stalemeister"]. “What do you say; do you still wish to become a Mando’ade?”

 

[stalemeister]

The sudden interjection by the female Mandalorian caught Stale off guard. He didn't need to speak the language to understand her dismissive tone. In fact he was almost glad he didn't know what she was saying, content to allow Rizaan to act as a buffer. His body still ached from the beating he had taken earlier and he was in no mood to engage again.

But alas she addressed him in galactic basic and he now had no choice but to listen. His ego was stung by her harsh rejection, but she was right. He had let his naivety get the better of him. When Rizann had given him the book, he had assumed too much. Now the pink armored Mandalorian's words brought him back to reality. He was a stranger, a newcomer, unwelcome unless he learned to live as a Mandalorian.

"I have nothing else but this. I'll become a Mando'ade or die trying." He said with as much conviction as he could muster. Stale thought to himself that he should have died on Fondor, everything past that was just a bonus.

[member="Rizann Bralor"]
[member="Cynthia Raxis"]

 

[Cynthia Solus]

[member="stalemeister"] X [member="Rizann Bralor"]

The woman humphed shaking her head with a small smirk. "You got tenacity i'll give you that. Besides when you say you have nothing, trust me you still got been alive." She said as her hand dropped a few credits onto the bar counter. Her fingers clasped around the small glass necking the transparent liquid down in a few gulps. It felt like fire going down that sent a tingle though her body. "Look at yourself, you are in no state right now and honestly you need training, and don't take this as a sign I like you. Until you pass the Verd'goten you are nothing but an outsider." Cynthia leaned back looked at the Bralor and gave a small nod. "So what do you say we play buir with this guy huh?" She was of course implying her offer to train the guy up. really she just wanted to shoot the guy time and time again with glop rounds. That alone offered entertainment value.

"So yeah I never got your name's. I'm Cynthia of cla... just Cynthia." Her thought line drifted for a moment as she drew back to wondering if she would continue her line as a Raxis. A decision she was yet to make and had a lot to thing about. Tapping her glass twice the bar tender would come over to refill. "We both need to determine your level of 'skill' in hand to hand, melee and blaster. From there i'm sure me and Bralor there can work out where to focus your survival skills."

 

[stalemeister]

He couldn't argue with pink armored mando when she said that he needed training. His first bout had left him with bruised ribs, swollen face, and a dislocated shoulder. It had been luck and quick use of his hover-boots that had caught her by surprise. If not for that he might as well have had his hands tied around his back.

He visibly perked up at the tacit acceptance. He would have smiled but his face still hurt "Training is what I came for. I don't want the armor, I want the life." He didn't want it to be easy. Being a pirate had been easy, the only requirement was calling yourself one. This was something you put your soul into. When he had been in his bunk on Naz's ship, he had envisioned that the mandalorian training was a fiery crucible where true warriors were forged.

"I'm just Stalemeister, or Stale. Fondorians only have one name too." He said trying to be friendly. The nuances of clan politics was still lost on him.

[member="Rizann Bralor"]
[member="Cynthia Raxis"]

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

Well Rizann was silent as he listened to [member="stalemeister"] and @Cynhia Raxia . Riz was sort of nice up to this point. That was just to make sure the person looking for this life would actually commit to it. Now was the time to test the person’s heart.

“Yes we could train him”, When Riz looked over to Cynthia his expression was blank. “We could train him so he could overcome and adapt to any situation. Like Clan Bralor, I’m more interested in his heart. I say let’s give him basic first aid treatment, and one good meal. Then we drop him in the jungle at least of two weeks out. We only give him a knife and a surveillance droid just to tail him. We can be in his vicinity if his heart fails. He if makes it back to the city, I would be willing to call him vod and give him training.”

It would seem harsh to send someone out on a Verd’goten without the training the young would receive. It was just that, Clan Bralor was harsh. They tested their own in the harshest of conditions. Their training was brutal. It was this to weed out those who did not have the heart to stand on the front lines of combat. If Stale could pass a Verd’goten without training, no one would question his heart. His honor though, he would have to prove that every day. Living by the six actions would do that.

 

[stalemeister]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Stale wondered if there were any other Mandalorians within earshot who preferred training before sending their students on suicide missions but he was beginning to doubt that. As a coming of age ritual, Mandalorian youths younger than himself had survived. He would need to pass through this crucible to emerge a changed man, one able to be trained as a warrior. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt] There were no forests on Fondor, not that he had seen. He knew next to nothing about surviving in the wild. It was small comfort knowing that he could survive more than 2 weeks without food as he seriously doubted his ability to hunt with a knife. There was no doubt he was nervous, but he was resolved. "Uh.. Could you throw in a flora and fauna guide too? I don't know anything about predators or poisonous plants, or is this a trial and error situation?" He said with some small attempt at dry humor.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt][member="Rizann Bralor"]
[member="Cynthia Raxis"][/SIZE]

 

[Dar'yaim Balor]

It was through gritted teeth Riz finally got this guy was not ready. This guy needed some training in a bad way, maybe just to boost the guy confidence. “Fine, training first! Here is the first lesson. You’re not always going to have a field manual to tell you what is safe to eat or what type of plant to wipe with. Sometimes your drop onto planets that have not had been explored yet. Maybe you’ll not have everything you’ll need. Maybe you’ll only have a combat knife and have zero idea of the hostile territory your in. A test like the one I was trying to give you is just another training exercise some of us use to prepare us if we get dumped on some back water planet. It may seem harsh. It is not impossible to survive in these types of conditions. We might as well get you to a medic. You ready?”



[member="stalemeister"]

 

[stalemeister]

"I'm ready." Replied Stale confidently. He was taking his first steps into a larger world and despite his fears of dying horribly in the jungle, as he followed the grizzled Mandalorian out of the cantina he couldn't help but feel like he was fulfilling his destiny. He walked with a surety of purpose and despite what tomorrow might bring, Stale figured he'd have the best night of sleep in his life tonight.

[member="Rizann Bralor"]