Private Old Wounds

[Vren Rook]

GUILDMASTER
MOS EISLY | TATOOINE
TAG: Minerva Fhirdiad
GEAR: In Bio

DARKNESS​

Reports have been vague.

Vren hadn't been to the desert planet for many months, as things on Kestri had kept him busy - what with the skeleton crew of Karjr and Si'kahya left to keep the peace and the Vong contained. So the few times a report did filter in, it spoke of some unrest with a new gang that had moved in just outside of town.

And then they just stopped.

Vren knew then he had to investigate. It was his job as Guildmaster. They were few enough left that any loss of a Karjr was a detrimental one. The culmination of issues - the Mandalorian Schism, the unyielding loyalty of few continuing to maintain Kestri despite the struggle, the appearance of a new Confederacy in Enclave's old territory and expanding fast in the direction of Kestri...and Veshok Rook traveling the Galaxy and facing the turmoil and zealots within it had Vren's old father's heart incredibly worried - it all weighed on him as if a Krayt Dragon was kneeling on his chest.

But duty was duty.

"You certain he received the message?" he asked Nag as the duo walked down the street to the cantina. Old locals hardly spared them a glance aside from a familiar nod or a smile, though newcomers gawked at the basilisk as she lumbered down the dirt street.
://: I'm certain. Give the kid a chance to listen to it first. He did send acknowledgement. ://: she said.
"Yeah, you're right. Fine. I'm just worried is all." he said.
://: You're going to worry yourself to death. Focus on the now. ://: she rumbled before coming to a stop outside the cantina.

Vren sighed. She was right. There was bigger fish to fry.
"Alright, I won't be long. Just want to get some info from Bost. Depending on where these bastards are holed up, we can stop by the house, pick up George and go light 'em up."
://: That sounds like my cup of oil. Haven't blown anyone up since the last we were here with Vesh. ://: she said as she collapsed her chasis to settle in for the wait.
Vren scoffed as he tucked his helmet under his arm before heading into his old haunt.

"I'll be damned!" cried Bost, the Bothan barkeep, as he gave a wide toothy smile when he caught sight of the familiar old armour. "Vren Rook. It's been too long! How ya been?"
"Been busy, partner. But it's good to be back." he said as he approached the bar. "On that note though, tell me - what's going on? The Garrison said something's going on before going quiet." he asked, lowering his voice.
"New gang moved in south of town. I have no idea how that droid Hector of yours manages to keep them off your land, but he does. They cleared out everyone around it though. They're starting to demand tithes from the shop owners and farmers." Bost said, lowering his voice.
Vren scrunched his mouth as he ruminated on the words.

Suddenly the Bothan's dark eyes focused on something past Vren, toward the corner of the cantina.
"There's an armour in the back watching you and it don't look too friendly." he whispered to Vren.
The Guildmaster cast a sideways glance over his shoulder and caught sight of a somewhat familiar armour. He sighed.
"Yeah the unfriendliness makes sense. Don't worry, I got this." With that he turned and approached said table. He hadn't seen Minerva in a long time. There was no telling how this would go.

"You are one person I never thought to find here."

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Vren Rook​

Becoming a mercenary again was like fitting into old boots you haven't worn for sometime. In Minerva's case it's been an adjustment but she still believed it to be the right call. Sitting in the back of the cantina with her helmet removed, the newly returned mercenary drank more of the Corellian ale in her cup.

Sighing, she looked around the establishment. Back where I started. Closing her eyes, Minerva thinks back to the past several years. Some things she was proud of while others not so much. Placing the cup down the warrior turned her focus on the Jizz music being played up on the stage.

A smile escaped her normally fierce expression. She didn't even know the tune was about but in her point of view it had been a good beat and that was more than enough. All around various patrons drank, ate, gambled or just talked amongst themselves with a few like herself preferring solitude. Soon her thoughts turned to another matter.

There's gonna be some gun jobs I can do here on this dustball.

Subsequently Minerva spotted an armored figure entering the joint. Brief confusion soon turned into remembrance. Eyes narrowed and mouth turned to a scornful frown as she whispered.

"You."

Her right fist tightened in reaction with rage coursing through her soul. Vern Rook, one of the leaders of the now fallen Enclave. It took every ounce of self control she had to keep from lashing out right then and there. As much as she hated him and the remaining Enclave remnant she will not endanger any bystander in this cantina on account of it. On the other hand a part of her was surprised Rook was on Tatooine given how far the former group had fallen.

Inwardly Minerva considered the options on how to play this out. Just as she did the bartender noticed and pointed her out to the Guildmaster. It didn't take long for him to recognize her though it is a wonder to Minerva that he actually remembered her.

She watched Rook with every step he took toward her direction. All the while her anger burned and burned. From the guildmaster's point of view he would note contempt and fury all wrapped into an intense combination within her demeanor. Once he reached the table Minerva continued to glare up at Rook even when he spoke.

In a silent reply she drank the last of her beverage before placing some credits on the table for the barkeep to take later. Then the adopted daughter of Jorel stood and put on her helm. Only then did she finally speak.

"Outside, you and me, no blasters. Or am I too dar'manda for you?"

Even with the helmet's audio filter anyone, especially Rook, can tell Minerva's challenge is laced in bitterness and vehemence.

 

[Vren Rook]

GUILDMASTER
MOS EISLY | TATOOINE
TAG: Minerva Fhirdiad
GEAR: In Bio

DARKNESS​

Vren knew what would come when she downed her drink before donning her helmet.

"Outside, you and me, no blasters. Or am I too dar'manda for you?"

The old Guildmaster sighed, a tiredness settling in his heart at the words. He leaned forward, putting his helmet on the table before spreading his hands as he regarded her.
"Are you sure you want to do that Minerva?" he asked softly, exhaustion clear in his voice. All this fighting between Mando'ade was weighing heavily on him. "I haven't lived this long by twiddling my thumbs on the porch, Child. Not to mention, my basilisk is outside and I doubt she'll listen if I tell her not to intervene. She's a bit headstrong." he said before straightening up with another sigh. "And I don't see a Dar'manda before me, Minerva. All I see is a Mando'ad who was trying to convince her kin that the path they were on was the wrong one." A shadow passed over his wrinkled face. "You weren't the only one back then."

He looked at his helmet for a moment before picking it up and tucking it back under his arm.

"I don't want to fight you, Minerva. I prefer not fighting my own people." he said, looking back at her helmeted face. "I never have. My fight's always been against the Sith and their sympathisers, crime and bounties. I'd much rather have your blaster to help me eradicate the tyrannical group that popped up just outside of town."

He took a step back from the table, his back straight now, while he still looked at her, his face hardening.

"But if you're hellbent on combatting me, I suppose I should humour you, though it pains me."

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Vren Rook​

During the first half of Vern's reply Minerva's eyes narrowed further inside the helm. She wasn't afraid of Rook nor the Basilisk. Of course she was aware of how experienced he is. Wary to be sure regarding the latter but not backing down all the same. The fires of Kashyyyk still burned her soul even now.

Yet when the veteran stated that he didn't see her as a dar'manda but still a Mandalorian she was surprised to say the least. Even after everything he still did? It was confusing for her to say the least. Yet when he stated she wasn't the only one who opposed what happened her anger returned. It showed with her squeezing both fists at once.

From her point of view Minerva didn't see any results from his so-called opposition from within. When he confessed to not wanting to keep fighting and killing fellow Mandalorians she paused despite the hatred that lingered in her heart. The part about wanting to go after Sith and their worshippers instead didn't sound so different from her. Yet what got her attention the most was the last part. Blinking her eyes inside the helmet Minerva then titled it.

"Group, what group? Explain." She demanded in a harsh tone.

All the same she was now listening. To that part at least, if nothing else. A part of her wondered why Vren would bother with what sounds like a new local gang. Especially since holdouts on Kesri are likely barely holding on without getting involved in troubles within their former sphere of influence.

He has something at stake with them but I don't know what. Minerva thought to herself.

 

[Vren Rook]

GUILDMASTER
MOS EISLY | TATOOINE
TAG: Minerva Fhirdiad
GEAR: In Bio

DARKNESS​

She was listening at least.

Vren was so very tired of all the fighting between their kind. Where is the time of the old stories? Of Mando'ade laying down their weapons and farming, living? Of togetherness? So with her at least not persisting to take it outside, it was a step in the right direction.

"Group, what group? Explain."

The Guildmaster sighed.
"I only learned about them myself. New gang terrorising the locals. Everyone's used to the Tuskens and an occasional outlaw. But when a new gang moves in and starts making monetary demands from the citizens and treating them worse than the Deimyos, it's a problem." he told her. He'd noticed the tone, but it was better than her throwing a fist.

"I was Karjr of this place for a very long time. Locals still look to me to keep the relative peace around here. I care about folks here. Just because Enclave no longer holds the planet, doesn't mean I want to see these people harassed." he then went on to explain. Maybe it was something she needed to hear, maybe it wasn't. Either way, it was the truth. He had fallen in love with Tatooine a long time ago. It's why he initially retired here before Kranak dragged him back to Kestri to try and bring the youngins under control.

Fat lot of good that did.

He really missed his porch, his massiff and his Banthas. Both Celt Saxon and Veshok Rook had their heads screwed on right. Perhaps now was a good time to return to retirement when this job was done.

"It will be an honour if you help me. But I really should get going."

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Vren Rook​

There was a time Minerva would've jumped immediately into action at the Enclave's command. Indeed she had looked up to the leadership from the Quartermaster to even Vren before her. All of that admiration and respect was long gone. In its stead of loathing for them and even herself for believing in them in the first place. So to hear the Guildmaster claim to care about this community of Aruetii made Minerva pause.

Why should I believe the likes of him? That he actually cares about these people who weren't Mandalorians at all?

The younger warrior looked for any sign for deceit in his words but confusedly he actually sounded sincere. Truthfully it frustrated Minerva. A part of her wanted to scream that he was a liar but her own code and a lifetime of experience demanded that she at listen first. It was then Minerva looked around the room. Some patrons were trying to ignore the scene of the two armored fighters but most were watching by now.

There was fear and hurt in many of their eyes. One, an old Quarren female who was a shopkeeper, had a vicious mark on her right eye, freshly made by a brand. She pointed at the horrific scar before bowing her head with a stream of tears dripped from the remaining eye as muffled sobbing followed. At the sight Minerva became wide eyed, realizing the truth.

Taking a deep breath she released it before moving closer to Rook by inches while whispering.

"I'll do it for them, not for you."

Minerva strongly emphasized that last point, so Vren understands that this doesn't change how she feels about him and the former brotherhood they were once part of.

Then she went forth, making her way out of the cantina.

 

[Vren Rook]

GUILDMASTER
MOS EISLY | TATOOINE
TAG: Minerva Fhirdiad
GEAR: In Bio

DARKNESS​

Minerva was quiet for quite a moment.

Vren was just about to give up and go his way when she finally spoke up.

"I'll do it for them, not for you."

He looked at her, eyebrows pulled into a sad triangle on his lined face.
"I don't need you to do it for me, Child. All I need is one person that cares about folk to lend their blaster." he said softly before turning and walking out, giving a wave at Bost as he went.

Outside, Nag had been lazily regarding some children closeby, but as Vren approached, the basilisk immediately rose to her feet with a growl as she regarded the Mandalorian behind him.
://: I don't know this armour. ://: she rumbled as her main turret pointed at Minerva.
"Easy, Girl. It's all right. She'll be helping. This is Minerva." he soothed holding out a calming hand at his droid. "We need to stop by the farm and pick up George before flying out. We're going to need his nose and teeth." he said to both ladies. "Will you two play nice?" He especially looked at Nag pointedly.
://: As long as she points that blaster in the right direction, we'll be fine. ://: said the basilisk.
"Good. Now bow down." he said.

As the cockpit popped open, Vren looked at Minerva, eyebrow raised.
"I trust your jetpack will get you up there." he said. He knew she was a capable Mando'ad. With that, his own pack activated and he blitzed into the cockpit.

Before long, they were heading to Vren's Bantha ranch on the edge of the Jundland Wastes. When Nag finally touched down in the yard in front of the homestead, Vren didn't even have to call the Massiff for George to come bolting at him, tongue happily lolling out of his mouth.
"Georgie! Hey, Boah." Vren said happily, quickly cuddling the reptilian canine before straightening and picking up the hound. "Come on, we need your help." he said before jumping into the air again to hop into the cockpit.

Flipping a switch on the comms system inside the cockpit he then spoke up.
"Hector, I picked up George. Got some business to take care of." he told his repurposed Cernr droid.
://: Copy that, Master Rook. Safe travel. ://: came the reply through the comms as Nag took flight again.

With that, the headed in the direction of the Motesta Oasis south of town where there was a high probability that the gang was holed up.