Homecoming [ Mando'ade Dominion of Mandalore & Concord Dawn]

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Post 4

Kurayami cringed at the response he had received from her. He didn't blame her for her bluntness, but the anger was more than he had expected. If she wasn't too worried about casualties he would be more than happy to help. It was a simple matter of walking over to his fighter and heading that way, besides it seemed as though Alkor rand the others had the mining portion well enough under control. He shrugged and started back towards his ship.

Once on board he ran through a quick preflight checklist while the engines warmed up and the rest of the systems came fully online. Linking his HUD to the data stream he had a full picture of what was around him in the cockpit. Once everything was reading green, he lifted off and reopened the comms channel to Rashae.

// Well, didn't mean to anger you there doctor. I wasn't sure if you had other security personnel already with you and Ardgal. Since you seem to need the help, I will be there in short order, just give me the coordinates. //

He left the channel open, but muted the mic as he removed his helmet and took a swig from his flask, looked like there might be a bit of violence here after all. And not just from the planet itself. He could deal with sentients who were being a bit rowdy or worse, but when a whole planet got pissed at you it was usually time to leave. Still, after this was cleaned up he might even be able to find a place to settle down here on Manda'yaim.

[member="Rashae"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Kad Tor"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

Post 4
BYOO

"How big is this going to be anyway," Teyn asked as he put down a plot marker. "I mean this is um, it's..."

Amaya smiled, "well I imagine there might be others who would like to live around us. This will be the entrance to the village and we'll be able to help them from here. The other clan is off this way and then the Munins are down there a ways." She directed with a gesture of her hand, and watched Teyn work.

The Gratiir clansman knew he was being watched and chuckled to himself. While his clan were more known for their beer and ranching, he was interested to know what the Verds would do. "So uh, what's um, what's gonna be your um thing?"

"My thing?" The daughter of Isley Verd questioned, "like what?"

"I mean we do beer, we ranch, we make meat, what about you guys?"

"Produce, honey, game there's some good hunting and if we make a decent reserve there will be hunting for generations to come," she said without hesitation, "of course dad and aunt Keira would need to approve so not sure how far I'll get with that, plus I make a good gunship or two."

Teyn just nodded and smiled moving back to what he was doing.

 

[Revenchent]

Times changed, but the north remained.

The muddied snow crunched beneath the warrior's boots. All was silent save for that rhythmic noise, and the quiet grieving wail of the winds. Other figures marched through the cold, though each was entranced within a world all his own.

Kurs'taylir lay in ruins. The once great bastion of Mandalore's north had been laid low by siege and natural disasters, her inhabitants scattered to the winds. Two hundred thousand souls had called this place home before the cataclysm, and only a fraction of that number remained to tell the tale.

They spoke of treachery; they spoke of betrayal. All stories Calico had heard numerous times on the route back to Mandalore.

Still, seeing the devastation for himself brought something to bear that he had not anticipated. A gloved hand thudded against his chest, his features twisting in a sorrowful grimace. The remains of the city he and his brothers had built lay all around him, the bodies being carted off in speeders by the dozen toward the ancestral burial ground.

His son and daughter were on one of those carts. A broken future, so close yet so very far away went with them.

A lone tear trickled down the mourner's scarred cheek.

"I never should have left."

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Now you, like all guilty men, return to your place of folly to receive some semblance of punishment or atonement for the atrocities you have committed. In the night you will be given no reprieve, for your actions were your own, and your nightmares are yours.

Amidst the ruins of Kurs'taylir Zaz knelt before what remained of his home. It had been so long and nothing was different, nothing had changed, and Mandalore was still in ruins.

Why had he come to visit this desolate place? Why does it still draw to him as honey would draw a fly? When would this cycle end? Like a fool Zaz had believed he knew what was best for Mandalore, like a fool he thought that by claiming the title of Mandalore he would be gifted the tools to help rebuild his people, and like a fool he had trusted in the sweet enticing of The Dominion. Yet for all he had done he had achieved nothing, he was no step closer to his goals, only further from his honor.

In the snow before him was the armor he had forged for the reclamation of his homeworld. The armor of the Rang'ade, styled in the black and crimson coloring of a misguided mission. There it would stay, forgotten in the snow, for Zaz had no need of it anymore. Bracing a hand on his knee he stood to his full height, exhaling a cool stream of condensation drifting from his lips as he turned away from his former homestead.

He wore a much more basic set of Beskar'gam now, gun metal black, seeming to be newly forged for an unknown purpose. Not yet outfitted with the gadgets and devices of the modern warrior.

As his boots crunched into the soot-covered snow his ears twitched at the sound of speeders moving in and out of the city. The dead still being ferried, how memorable of a sound. He intended to leave this city, and not return until his exile was complete, until his time as a Dar'manda was done. Only the true Mand'alor could exonerate the man of the crimes against his people.

His steps faltered as his eyes came to focus around a figure, standing in the tree line that stood tall surrounding the city. The Mandalorian stuttered his words, surely believing the sight to be a vision or some form of mirage. Regardless of if it could be simple hallucination he was able to speak one bitter word.

"Father."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

What could a child know of duty?

The smell of charcoal burning lingered in the air as Calico turned toward the youth.

The boy had grown in the three years he'd been away, yet he still carried himself as one unproven. The soul was strong, but the mettle untested; the heart yet unbent.

His gaze lingered upon the first of his boys, and for a moment, the sorrow abated. The heir to his name, one of the only good things he and Zandra had ever brought into this world, his baby, and Cal had left the boy to contend with this devastation. Calico drew in a sharp breath as his arms feel meekly to his sides, the cold wind slicing across his bearded face like invisible blades.

His lips pursed.

"Ner ad," the words fell from his lips in a quiet whisper. Plated boots crunched through the snow as he approached his boy. Though Zaz had always favored him in his looks, he had his mother's eyes. A cocktail of emotions swirled through the warrior as he came to a halt in front of his child; lips pursed to speak words, but such trivial things were lost to the well of emotion that thrummed through the air.

Calico looked upon the last gift Zandra had ever given him and wiped his eyes. Gathering himself, he forced back the tears that threatened to fall and met his son's eyes. "What has happened in my absence ad'ika? What happened to our people?"

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

His father had gotten older. That was the first thing he noticed about the man, he could see that the past few years had taken their toll on him.

He watched as his father approached him, eyes beginning to well with tears. Normally Zaz would think less of a man for breaking out into tears in front of his own son, yet Zaz had been in a similar state upon seeing the remains of his home.

His fathers voice was different from what he remembered as well, it seemed slightly more rugged and tested. Of course it was never a cool winter melody to begin with. As Calico moved towards Zaz the man could not help but exhale at the thought of the actions that had led to Mandalore's turmoil. "What happened?" He repeated, a shallow chuckle escaping him.

Zaz's boot tightened into the ground as his torso rotated to the left, his hand which was now balled into a fist flew towards his father's jaw line with a stunning speed. "You left!" He called out as his fist flew to his father's face.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Bone cracked as the impact came.

The warrior was sent sprawling back, blood dripping down from his now broken nose as he righted himself. Momentarily stunned from the blow, Cal could only stare at the youth in confusion. Then the realization dawned on him; Zaz didn't know who to blame, so he chose to blame his father.

It made sense when you got down to it. Cal had been gone for three years on a quest of sorts that could not be spoken of with the greater clan. The details of his long departure were far from common knowledge, and Zaz had to take his place during his absence. It was in that absence that the disaster had come. The burden of dealing with its aftermath fell upon the boy's shoulders.

As the pain dulled to a steady throb, Calico breathed a heavy sigh.

"I had to fight a war. You know that." He answered the unspoken question, arms outstretched as he once again approached his progeny. "But that war is over now," the warrior moved to pull his son into a great big bear hug, nose bleed and all. "We've got another one to fight. I'm sorry son. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help, and I'm sorry that I wasn't here to guide you through this, but I'm here now."

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

All of Calico's words were taken as an excuse and nothing more. Zaz sized the man up as he spoke, attempting to hold back another assault.

"Seems like you were off fighting the wrong war." Zaz said, gesturing back towards the ruins that was Kurs'taylir. "We had one right here that could have used a bit of your attention, if it wasn't too much to karking ask." Calico approached Zaz but the man stepped back, denying the man the embrace he searched for.

"It's too late to apologize. The deed is done and our family is dead." He stated, dryly. Zaz walked passed his father, making his way towards the tree line. He caught himself and turned towards Calico, raising his voice a bit. "You know. I wasn't the best Alor, I had my faults, and in the end I made the wrong choices. But at least I was here to make those choices."

The Mandalorian stared at his father, not sure if he cared to be around the man any further. "It's time for a change buir, with or without you." He exhaled, turning back to the treeline.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

"You dishonor me." The denial of an embrace was met with a furrowed brow and a thin frown. A heavy silence fell over the two as tension filled the air. This place was thick with emotion; a single word could light a fire that would burn the bridge between father and son for eternity were it spoken wrongly.

Cal reached forward to grab a hold of his son's forearm.

"We all make mistakes Zaz. You didn't cause this, and neither did I," his voice was firm. "And you can be assured that the war I fought was just as important as what went on here. There's a reckoning coming Zaz. There are powers at work beyond our that I can't rightly explain.."

The grip tightened. "Your uncles and I had to put a stop to them, and we did, at least for now." Cal gestured about with his free hand. "We've lost many, but not all of them. Mandalore's unity is shattered. The council's been dissolved, and I don't know what the Mandalore is planning. I do know that we have our own people to look out for, and then we need to help the rest of our brothers. Together."

The hand fell away. "Everything I have ever done was to protect you and the rest of the clan Zaz. You know that. We need one another if we're going to survive what comes next. I'm not leaving you again ad'ika."

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Zaz glanced back at his father, biting the bottom of his lip as he listened to the man's words. He turned back to look his father in the eye, curious as to if he could trust the man would stay this time, curious as to if he believed following him would be the best thing to do. "If you leave again....I'll kill you myself." He said, making his way back over to the man.

"Regardless of if you have my help or not you'll have your work cut out for you. I'm marked a Dar'manda, most of Tal'verda is dead or in the winds, and I don't even know what is going on with the clans." He admitted.

"Come on." He gestured back up towards the remnants of their homestead. "It will take a long time to get this planet anywhere near habitable again."

Zaz led his father through the threshold of Kurs'taylir, making his way up to their own residence where he had just traveled from. "We came here not long after the eruption. Find any survivors, weapons, or armor that could be salvaged. If you think this is bad you should have seen it back then."

The homestead of the Tal'verda's had been restored as much as possible, however the entire western side of the structure had caved into itself, it seemed that a nearby tower had collapsed during the cataclysm and smashed into the side of the stead. Zaz glanced down at his old set of armor, laying in the snow in front of the main courtyard.

"Buir, I'm Dar'manda....I can't help you." He said, resting his hands on his waist as he peered over the homestead.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico snorted.

"You are your mother's son," a low laugh rumbled at the back of former Grand Marshal's throat. "And you are my son, and no son of mine has lost his soul. Has this boy calling himself the Mandalore deemed you so, or was it his Sith compatriots?" Laughter had been replaced with hostility as Calico snarled out the words. A mixture of outrage and disgust was splayed across his features as Zaz recounted the state of things. Sorrow at the site of his ancestral home gave way to a slow burning flame at the pit of his heart.

Zaz was a warrior worth ten men, and as honorable as the lot of them. His son had grown into a model Mandalorian warrior, and he was considered dar'manda? There was no greater crime than to be excommunicated from the very soul of the Manda, and such a sentence was deserved at time, but...

Not Zaz. Not his boy.

"You did what you thought was best for the clan. I do not know this Mandalore the Exile well, save for the times we stood on the Alore Council together, but I do not think he would punish you for following your heart's path." The warrior scowled as they came upon their old family home.

"We will speak with him and get to the heart of this matter. You are no Dar'manda Zaz Tal'verda. You are my son, my heir, one day the lord of the northern realms, and the future of our people. You are more steadfast and honorable than any man I have ever known. If you chose not to abide by the Mandalore's decisions, then I know it was for a good reason."

A plate-bound hand was drawn along one of the caved in walls of the home. Memories of a short white haired woman and a bundle of children at her feet stirred in the back of Calico's mind. The warrior grimaced. "We will restore our clan. We still have over a thousand warriors, and I brought friends. We'll raid the Sith if we have to. We will restore what was lost, and the Tal'verda will claim what is rightfully ours."

A thought passed through his mind. "We will see if Mandalore the Exile is a man worth following. If he is, then we will pledge all that we can to his cause and reuniting the clans. If he is not, then we will find someone who is - and I will be sure to absolve you of this foolish notion that you lack the soul of a Mandalorian."

The wooden floors creaked as Cal stepped into the ruined home. "But we must be careful not to assume too much. Many of the old clans are gone, replaced with new blood and upstarts. Despite the former Mandalore Azrael's claims, the Verds are no longer considered traitors," blue eyes shifted to meet those of his son. "We'll need to prove ourselves once again. Our old enemies will seek to displace us as they have tried in the past. We cannot let the oppression of outside influence run rampant through our society. Watch our compatriots. Learn their loyalties. Teach them what you can of honor and brotherhood, and should they prove to have false intentions, we will cut away the chaff."

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

The path leading to the main courtyard was filled with rubble, yet still manageable. Zaz made his way over the debris, using the wall to his side as a brace as he negotiated the pile of rock and steel that filled the floor.

"We'll have to rebuild. Not just the homestead and the clan, but our reputation." He agreed.

Zaz's eyes fell over the courtyard, his boots connecting with the soot-covered stone. "I remember training with Corin in this yard."

The Mandalorian turned to face his father, crossing his arms over his chest, a curios gaze plastered on his face. "Mandalore the exile seemed...Well I'm not his biggest fan." He reinforced. Zaz ran a hand over the side of his hair, scratching the back of his neck in completion. "So the Verds can be trusted? That's a new one." He made his way over to a nearby terminal, checking to see if the auxiliary generators were giving power to the courtyard, of course they were not.

"A lot of seismic activity knocked Kurs'taylir's systems down. We had ecosystem stabilization measures in place in case of this sort of thing, but they all failed when the planet went to hell and back." He pointed out. "After the cataclysm a lot of the clans just left the planet, most of them actually, they just started returning recently."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

In the mine of Morut, Mandalore​

Allies: Everyone (so far), Rashae​

Enemies: None (So far)​

Post: 9/20​

​

“Rather a viable egg is engineered for insemination or we adopt either are possible. “

Ardgal mulled the idea over in his mind. It didn't matter to him if the child that would be theirs was from his genetic gene pool. That didn't matter to him. He didn't care. But there were a lot of children already who lost their fathers and their mothers. The tradecraft of the mandos, killing, went both ways. The greatest warriors in the galaxy died too. IEDs, stray bullets, bad days, ambushes, and impossible odds all happened to Mandos too. They weren't blaster proof. They still died, what made the Mandos great was they didn't let that stop them. He himself had been through that. He knew the pain of losing both parents, and then his foster father Ordo. He knew how good it felt when that father came and stepped into his life. He knew how that felt to feel love after he thought there was no more left in the galaxy.

"Adopt," he said at last. "If you are ok with it either way."

Its not that its too fast. I never been asked that question before.

Ardgal let out the tension in his body with a heavy sigh, the chair under his body creaked slightly as the warrior's muscles became less tense. he ran his fingers over his bare head, the relief across him was visible.

"I'm sorry, its all new," he gave a slight chuckle, "I guess we are all filling new rolls, new entirely," he squeezed her hand gently when Rashae said she had never gotten this far, "Well, to be fair I haven't either. I was always too business, the work always got in the way or I was just too somber," He shrugged, "I guess I thought I would die too young to consider it or everyone would leave me before I had a chance to."

____________​

​

Ardgal stood by patiently while Rashae had her interesting conversation. That was part of the business, but the warrior could never understand these outsider intellectuals. Come to think of it there weren't any other kind. Mando Intellectual. Now there was an oxymoron if there ever was one. It brought a smile to his face. But they always seemed to be just scatterbrained with hardly the ability to focus. He guessed that was what you had to do to be some sort of brain. But he didn't act that way, and he did hold a rather high degree in engineering. And Rashae wasn't that way... usually. He would have to think about that later.

Well, we need more information to see if we can balance out this new situation but looks like we have a unique geological and biological circumstance. First, we need gold for the atmosphere

The warrior clenched his jaw in some thought. Gold? Well they were the experts after all. They knew what they were doing. The warrior pursed his lips and thought for a second about the problem. There was an obvious solution, but the real question was if they could do it. And if it would be allowed. And even if that would ever be permitted. Mandalore was still old school. A lot of planets had already switched to pure comerce economies. Their banks were full of credit chips with pretty much nothing to back them. They had no gold standard, no silver standard, no precious metals or stones to support their plastic chips any more.

Well, none except the ones that were still somewhat old school. Like Mandalore.

Ardgal flicked his comm on to Prometheus, 'I need a search for all banks in mandalore. Cross reference that with all the ones that were out of the most serious damage zones."

"Uh, yes--sir?" Prometheus said his voice showing his confusion, "You wanna tell me what this is about?"

"I'll tell you later," Ardgal said, "I need this. Now."

A few seconds later, Prometheus' voice came over the coms again, "Uh, got it, sir. Should I send that data to you?"

"Send when ready," Ardgal said at last.

Get me that fraking policing mandalorians and a fraking translator.

He gently placed a hand on Rashae's shoulder to sooth her. He knew how hot her temper could be. He also knew that he had a 97.5% chance of defusing it in with the right touch.

"Hey, what am I, chopped nerf?" he said with a wry smirk. It was pretty clear he was being playful, "Oh, that's right, I am. Carry on."

He looked over the data he was given. There was a bank. It had been caught up in one of the volcanic eruptions, but the safe looked like it could have survived. There was a 56% chance it had the gold they needed, but that was all they had to go on right now. And even getting to it would be work. The ground shook, and he reflexively grabbed Rashae. He held her as secure as he could. When the tremor passed he looked at her, "You alright? I know where we can get the gold, but it might be a little less than legal."

[member="Rashae"] I [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]​

 

[Revenchent]

"We'll figure it all out as we move forward. Not worth worrying about now," Cal muttered as he meandered through the ruins of their home. Things were going to be different now, though in what way the warrior had no idea. Perhaps the Mando'ade would stand united. Perhaps they would crumble. All would be as it had been willed prior, though Calico had a stronger fondness for the former.

"They're going to come for us, you know." He turned to face his son. "Our enemies. Both ours, and those opposing the rest of the Mando'ade. We look weak right now, and a weak creature is an easy kill for the predators of the galaxy." A heavy sigh fell from his lips.

"We've got our work cut out for us Zaz. Come on, let's start cleaning up the home."

Calico fell silent as he began sifting through the mass of ruined furniture and old memories.

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]