Of Zealots and Warriors

[Vilaz Munin]

Something had to be done.

The Field Marshal thought to himself as he stood facing the ruins of the City of Woe. A monument that he despised of; and a monument that even the mighty Warriors of Mandalore could fall...like Ember. He heard the reports which were literally the trend of the day for the United Clans of Mandalore. He saw the emotions of many Mandalorians. Some mourned for this beloved War Hero; some were in disbelief and refused to believe it until they saw the body for themselves; and some were wanting vengeance on that so called Mandalore the Reclaimer.

More like Mandalore the Coward.

A title that he dubbed on Isley. And he proved it even more when he refused to take responsibility of his pet Gen'dai and didn't face the challenge of a Kelborn Clansmen. What type of Sole Ruler would dismiss two challenges? Only him. If everyone thought that Mandalore the Lesser was a horrible leader, then they were wrong. At least Mandalore the Lesser abided to the traditions of the Culture.

But why was the Redneck here in the City of Woe instead of taking matters into his own hand, and knocking down the door on the Mandalorian Empire? He didn't want to risk the other clans because of his holy war with the Verd. He couldn't live with that conscious. Too many friends, loved ones, and families to put on stake just because of the actions of Vilaz.

So what was his solution on making Isley and his people pay for what had happened beyond the skies of Mandalore? The Warrior had heard reports of an old foe of the Mandalorians attacking the Silver Sanctum and destroying the property of James Justice on Gromas. While he did had anger and hatred for the Zealots of the Primeval, he would have to put that aside if he wanted to bring the pain on Isley and his Mandalorians.

They would have to be the venom that would make the Mandalorian Empire no more than mere remnants.

What goes around, comes around, Verd.

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

Hiss. The door slid open and robed priests walked along the edges of the temple room. A young Boethiah sat with her legs crossed at the very end upon a large cushion. Here in the towering steeple of the Cathedral-class Battleship sat the legacy of prophecy, a star child whose origins etched into the very heart of the Primeval; a reincarnation? Not exactly, but the very woman who led her people to their glory resided inside of her, along with another entity--one perhaps darker in the ways of the force.

Ah, the Mandalorians... She knew how they lost at Wayland, she knew how they faltered when coming to the aid of allies on Ziost. There were many battles fought, and in the end the Primeval won their war. Yet where the Mandalorians merely refocused around their capital of Mandalore, the Primeval fractured and receded. It was him. The Warlord of the Rift, the Heretical Lord of the Black Court, and traitor to the Zambrano name. These were a people Boethiah had familiarity with. She was born in their space, and in her spirit lies those who've fought them. So when she looked upon those rebels residing on her worlds, she saw nothing resembling the Mandalorian people that the Primeval fought.

No. These were merely insubordinate squatters, playing war and politics, but like children they did not know the true gravity of such games in their most real sense. That is why a lesson must be taught to these faux Mandalorians, a lesson of blood and fire etched into the very souls of their self-proclaimed leaders. A lesson that--hopefully--would teach others the consequences of hubris. To be ambitious without just cause, to expand beyond one's means.

From where she sat, Boethiah sensed that at long last she would meet the Mandalorians again.

As enemies? No...

Her ship did not hide itself from those who sought her out. If her senses were true, then they would come.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

And true were those senses.

It'd be impossible for a man in his conditions to not notice the size and shape of the Battleship that docked meters away from where he stood. If he did, then his HUD on his helmet would display his surroundings and alert him of his expected guest. Seeing a ship like this was like a relic to him from an old war. A relic of a people that somehow still had the strength and morale to compete against the Jedi of the Silver Sanctum. But how could this cult be extinguished from the knowledge of the Galaxy if they were an idea that etched into the writing of endless books, and the Field Marshal knew that it was quite impossible to get rid of an idea even if someone had unlimited power from the Force. These Zealots were similar to the Mandalorians in terms of existence. Perhaps in the next millennia they would still have a presence amongst the endless stars of the Galaxy.

As he approached the entry of the vessel, few guards which awaited the Bounty Hunter escorted him and stripped him from his weapons. Something that he wasn't bothered about because if there was one weapon that they couldn't take away from him which was devasting and dangerous in close quarters, it was his body. They guided him through the halls and corridors of the ship until they stopped at a door. They gestured him to enter and so did the Warrior did.

In the room he saw a female sitting on a large cushion. The Field Marshal would break the ice with a saying from his home planet, Concord Dawn.

"Do you know that cheating is a capital offense on Concord Dawn?"

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

Indeed the Primeval and Mandalorians did share that in common. They weren't a nation, they were a creed, their peoples united by common cause and ideas; rather than borders or politics. Such a similarity, however, was easily missed when at war. You didn't look upon your enemy and say, "they are like us," you grabbed your weapon and met them in the fray. If you survived, you won, if you died... Well don't die. Vilaz would be led by members of the Golden Banner, their armour and insignia quite familiar to anyone who fought on Wayland.

Upon his entry into the temple, Boethiah's heterochromatic eyes fell upon the Field Marshal. She listened as he spoke, breaking the ice with such a statement. "Concord Dawn?" She thought aloud. There were many things the young witch had yet to familiarize herself with, and maps were one. Outside of Primeval space, there wasn't much she had concerned herself with, and Concord Dawn was one of those things. Of course she knew of Mandalore, for it was their capital, and she knew of Dathomir and Wayland due to her upbringing. Concord Dawn, however, was not a world she had become familiar with.

"I sensed your arrival, warrior. Why do you seek us out? Surely you aren't here to fight..." If he was going to break the ice, then she would dive into the icy waters that their people have so long avoided.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

He was...a bit surprised to hear from this priestess when she asked in a curious manner about the agricultural world of Concord Dawn. But he wasn't he to give a lecture of the history, politics, and culture of his home planet. No, he was here to negotiate with an old enemy behind the backs of the Council. Then again, he had nothing to worry about the council. This was an issue to the House of Vilaz, and whatever dealings he would make right now in the present and later in the future were of his concern, not anyone else's. Not Clan Betna, Clan Vereen, Clan Rekali, Clan Ordo, Clan Skirata, and all the other clans of Mandalore.

And he would do this for the well being of the brothers and sisters that planted their feet on Mandalore, and didn't run about with the false Mandalore on Echoy'la.

The Warrior heard the priestess and asked why he had came to her. Indeed he was not here to fight, but was here to strike a deal for the interests of both his lot of Mandalorians and the Primeval. "Well, let me ask ya some questions. First one: what do ya think about those fake Mandalorians that are north up in Echoy'la?" The Field Marshal was curious for her answer and hoped for one that he would like. If it was one that he hopes for, then something good could come out from this vessel.

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

"I don't know of fake Mandalorians in that area of space; only the rebels who claim to hold my world." She was quite quick in her reply, and certainly she had an idea of what he was suggesting, but to her she did not see anyone to be called 'fake Mandalorians,' but simply rebels of the Primeval who have merely lost their place in society. This wouldn't be the first time, of course, there were always rebels who defied the order that was. Rebels ready to die for a cause they believed in; but were they ready?

They wouldn't know what they were ready for until it was too late. By then they would know nothing but the taste of ash in their mouths, and hot embers at their feet. "If my answer satisfies your question, then do answer mine, warrior." She added.

Boethiah was quite curious about his purpose here, and who precisely he was representing in this affair. Although she had some ideas as to what he was after, as he wouldn't be the first to seek out the enemy of his enemy, and call them friend.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

So she saw that splinter cell group of Mandalorians as rebels? Wasn't exactly the type of answer that the Warrior was expecting from her, but that wouldn't stop him from negotiating with this woman. Despite her answer, he thought that the priestess would want nothing more than to evict the Mandalorian Empire and its subjects from the once territories of the Primeval. "Well, them rebels happen to be another faction of Mandos that split off from the clans, and I want them six feet under the ground," Vilaz said to her and told her about the rebels north from Mandalore.

"And to your question, I'm here to negotiate with ya. Maybe find a common thing that we want kill off," the House Head of Munin said and finally answered her question. Now that he established his claim of why he was here in the temple room of this priestess, they could finally get putting propositions on the table and find a middle ground to which both parties could agree to.

"Now, you know that I want those rebels being just ashes, and I'm well sure that you want the same thing, right?" They were after all her taking residence on the priestess' old worlds, and it'd be a huge lie and a waste of his time if this Primeval leader said otherwise to what he was saying. But after fighting the zealots and barbarians of the Primeval, the Redneck was sure that this woman would want vengeance on the Mandalorian Empire that destroyed and replaced with what the Primeval had done to those old worlds of theirs.

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

As he continued to speak, she continued to listen. Even though he saw them as Mandalorians--and many of them were born and raised as such--the Primeval cared little for such labels. Mandalorian to them referred solely to the people of Mandalore who they fought time and time again in the past. It wasn't that they couldn't comprehend a schism, but that they wouldn't recognize one. Which for zealots makes a bit of sense. Going against dogma isn't recognizing one's differences; to the Primeval it is pure and utter disobedience.

So he wasn't wrong. Like feral dogs they needed to be put down, or well, at least the leaders did. There was no point in hunting down and eradicating each and every follower, merely one must destroy the purpose to follow. That is how the Primeval managed to conquer such vast swaths of territory and keep them under control during the golden age of Anja Aj'Rou. Now that the Host Lord was dead, Boethiah and the other priests and priestesses were forced to pickup the pieces left behind by the traitorous Warlords.

"All we seek is what is ours. Your people are no longer our enemy; our marches have stopped. It was never personal--never a matter to invoke wrath, you must understand. We are willing to talk, and to come to any deals so long as they do not hinder our goals." She handed him a map, that map would contain the proposed boundaries of Primeval space to be recognized. "We allow you to take the glory of battle against these rebels, and we shall not seek to ever again attack you or your people so long as our interests remain recognized." Boethiah finally explained.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

He listened to her and was glad to hear that the Primeval wouldn't march on their territory and that they could negotiate for one condition. And that condition was detailed in the map itself. He saw a line that marked as a border which contained dozens of star systems. Did Vilaz cared about these aystem9? No, because he was sure that his group of Mandalorians weren't planning on expanding into the direction that held these hundreds of planets which the Primeval sought to establish a foundation on.

It appeared that they could talk and set out terms on the table.

"You got yourself a deal, foreigner.Besides I don't think we're planning on heading spreading out in that corner of this 'verse," the Field Marshal said to the priestess. "So tell me what armies y'all still have? Because I got a deal that'll get what I want and you some help from me." A deal that would cost from both sides. For Vilaz it would cost him economically, and for the priestess before his eyes it would cost her lives and manpower. Nevertheless, she would have fine materials and inventory that were Mandalorian military grade; and Vilaz would see the false Sole Ruler see his Empire tremble and reconcile from the actions that he had done that didn't help the Mandalorian people as a whole, but just made the chasm ever larger than what it was since the reign of Lord Mandalore.

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

Ever since the Primeval Fleet had been exiled by [member="Zambrano the Hutt"], the Primeval's military relied heavily on the loyalists who remained with the Witches of Wayland. Cathedral-class battleships, and anything the Black Court had surrendered upon their defeat. Including the venerable Time Rift-class, and a single Primeval-class Star Destroyer; the Balagoth. The Golden Banners and a few of the Gulandi Warriors remained loyal as well, but apart from that the rest had ventured off under the guidance of Catalys, whose last known ties were with the Triumvirate; his fleets aiding them in defeating the Silver Jedi at Ruusan.

"We have enough to hold our own against any enemy," she responded simply. It was truthful, however, between their powerful magicks and unique forces, the Primeval were still a threat to be reckoned with in this region of the galaxy. One cannot simply forget how they had swiftly conquered swaths of territory with little opposition, and how they had not once lost an invasion during their time of rule. Even if their war machine was fractured, the amount of power that remained in their hands would be enough to get the job done.

With the aid of Mandalorians? They certainly proved a worthy opponent against any power in the galaxy. They could win, and she expected they would.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

The Field Marshal would expect a weak and small military from the surviving remnants of the Primeval loyalists. Many would expect that ever since the whole and entire system of the Primeval fractured and collapsed that ft here would be some numbers, but not significant digits. That was until the remaining bits of the Primeval made a display of their strength to the Silver Watch of the Silver Sanctum Coalition. The reports of said skirmish proved all of those theories wrong about the Primeval. Those that stood firm with the zealous cult demonstrated that they were still a force to be reckoned with.

"Sweet music to my ears," the Warrior said, not doubting that statement from the priestess, "cause I want to see them in action. What you say about that, huh?"

If they were to hold off against any enemy, then he'd be delighted to see what they could do to the Mandalorian Empire. No doubt that the zealots of the Primeval would want another round with the Mandalorians. But how could he orchestrate all of this to murder and vanquish fellow brothers and sisters that were just misguided? The answer was this. He didn't consider them brothers and sisters to him. They were nothing to him. They were just individuals that needed discipline and a painful lesson that they would learn. If he had feelings for the lot of Mandalorians that followed Isley's rule, then he wouldn't be here on this ship talking with a priestess of the Primeval doing the right thing.

The right way for his fellow Warriors.

[member="Boethiah"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Be ready and you will find what you seek, warrior--until then hone your resolve; it is sharper than any sword." The tone in which she spoke changed only in the subtlest of ways. It wasn't in how it sounded, but how it felt. To lesser men it would've undoubtedly sent a chill down one's spine, but [member="Vilaz Munin"] was no lesser man. He knew well enough that there was no shame in seeking out past enemies to put down new ones.

That was the nature of survival, that one motive each and every being in the galaxy shares; the will to live. It is quite simple at its core, but overtime politics and war had complicated it, but the petty quarrels of provisional powers were not hers to take part in. Boethiah had a much greater mission. Her fight with the Rebels of Echoy'la is nothing but a stepping stone to that greater purpose, a necessary chore in her path to higher apperception.

She waved her hand loosely, her guards drummed upon the floor as they turned towards the two. A single priest marched up the the pathway towards the throne, procuring a ornate box. Her fair hand gestured to it, "I have a gift to cement our opportunity." Inside the box contained a single Ysalamiri Neural Disabler. "A fellow warrior would not suspect you of all people to hold it, such a device would enslave your enemy to a single reality--that their fear of the force cannot be avoided." Upon that she rose from her cushion.

"I believe now is where we part ways, and focus on the battles to come."

 

[Vilaz Munin]

And just like that the meeting between him and the Primeval had come to a successful conclusion. While this secret alliance didn't really involved the entire clans of Mandalore, it was one between his clan and the Primeval. No rules were broken, but if one were to discover of this, then everyone would have a right to be suspicious at the Munin. Then again, when was the last time he gave a single damn of what people thought of him? He only cares what his adopted son thought of him and that was all. He wasn't bothered of what Draco, Arrbi, Anija and the rest of his friends thought of him.

All he was doing was ending this schism between the Mandalorians, and the answer to that was force alone.

With the gift from the priestess he rose on his two feet, simultaneously as the priestess. There was no word or syllable to be said. He only nodded at the woman and was then escorted by the men of the Golden Banner. His weapons were returned to him before he left the vessel of an old foe.

Now what?

The Warrior would sit and watch an empire fall to its knees and be burned into mere ashes.

[member="Boethiah"]