Faction The Call of Mandalore | SoM & The Enclave

[Wilhuff Krieg]

​

ECHOY'LA
IJAAT TAYLIR
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

---

---

---

The great mount had been climbed and the once Sith throne world of Bastion had fallen beneath the Iron Sub of the Imperial crest once more. Thus, the campaign of the Braxant Run was complete and harkened the second step of the Third Imperial Civil War. Making due on the promise between Creed and Empire.

The Mandalore Sector. It had been the determined second step of the New Imperial defiance very early on, since the Sons of Mandalore had joined them in a pact of steel. Now that time had come.

But the call of Mandalore enticed more than it’s Sons. In exile across the Galaxy, the Mandalorians formed in several enclaves to protect themselves in longing for a home taken from them and while many were content to build a home elsewhere, such was not the way of the Sons of Mandalore. There would be peace for the Sith only at the end of a sword until the home of the Mando'ade was free of their malfeasance.

The Sons of Mandalore foothold in New Imperial space was less akin to what might be expected of a Mandalorian group in-exile as a covert and served more as a foreboding enclosed fortress city looming over the broken, lifeless landscape of Echoy'la as the fires of Alheim's crucible blazed in the distance. There was no vision of the broken Mandalorian here. Here, they were in control, they had a realm all their own and a fearless, tenacious presence. They were not exiles, they were rulers.

Past The Gate, the indomitably fortified entrance to Honor Hold, the Sons of Mandalore gathered with the delegation of those who'd arrived from the wayward 'Enclave' into the Hub where Kestus and a retinue of the Sons of Mandalore would be there to meet them.

<"Welcome, all of you. It has been rare that the Sons of Manda'yaim have been able to communicate with any other Mando'ade. As so, you all clearly had a purpose in coming here...and not one so horribly timed as we are on the eve of our Crusade."> Kestus states sternly past the filtered distortion of his Beskar'gam.

<"But I was under the impression that the Enclave is...neutral in such matters...even if our homeland is at stake."> Bralor iterates.

 

[Siv Dragr]

E N C L A V E

Tag: Kestus Bralor

Siv was no natural leader.

He never had been; it wasn't the way of Clan Dragr. They had found glory and honor in mercenary work, in which each warrior was their own commander and their own subordinate. The Songs told of the last time that Clan Dragr had participated, and that had been during the neo-crusades of antiquity. The Clan had been content to serve whoever paid the highest coin, and not waste blood over whatever political conflicts that might have taken over the Clans.

But now, Siv stood as the representative of the Quartermaster and the Enclave as a whole. And he already found out how truly demanding leadership could be.

Ijaat Taylir, the stronghold of the Mandalorian sect was called. 'Honor Hold.' Siv had snorted at the name when he'd first read it. From what he had heard of the Sons of Mandalore -- a ragtag group of radicals and extremists -- he'd be surprised if there was enough honor between them to fill a single beskar'gam. Their fortress was already a thematic contrast between them and the Enclave. The Enclave was a covert, meant to safeguard the remnants of the Sundering of Mandalore.

This place, this stronghold, it was meant to project power. To project fear. In essence, it spoke to the true nature of the Sons of the Mandalore. They projected power, they projected the aura that they were the ones in control. That they would be the ones to destroy the Sith and take back Mandalore. Yet that was all it was. Projection. The Sons of Mandalore were no more powerful than the United Clans had been, and whatever amount of control they had ended at the leash held by their Imperial masters. That had been made clear by the Quartermaster when the 'invitation' had been received at the Enclave.

They may be able to shake the grapple of the Sith off of Mandalore, but it was not true liberation, just a changing of masters.

A lone Oya'karir-class Light Gunship rocketed through the lower atmosphere of Echoy'la, the lifeless atmosphere illuminated in the growing dusk by the fires of a massive mine. The Sons of Mandalore's fortress could be seen in the distance, and Siv piloted over to a flat zone, not hard to find on the lifeless rock that the planet was, and settled the gunship down smoothly. The landing ramp extended from the ship, and Siv and the few that had come with him disembarked. setting off towards the massive gates of Ijaat Taylir.

As they arrived, dusk had begun to settle over the lifeless planet's landscape, the only light coming from the massive fires burning in the distance. A cold wind began to blow, Siv's cape flapping in the breeze as the crushed rock under his boots turned into smooth metal. Looking up, he saw a party of several Mandalorians standing at the entrance to the stronghold, the massive structure looming behind them. He stood, waiting for them to speak, and was glad that he did not have to wait long.

"We heard of your plans to liberate Manda'yaim," Siv spoke simply. "But the Enclave knows messages of liberation and freedom can be deceiving. You are not the first sect of warriors that have promised freedom from the Darjetii, and there is nothing yet to prove that you will be the last."
​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

Spoiler: (Back for Beskar)

E N C L A V E



"Well guess again sweetheart."
​

Joti chuckles at Bralor's "Neutral" assumptions. It was all a cheap trick, Trying to guilt or strong arm them into accepting the "Sons" As the new regime. And for what? So that another empire could rule Mandalore? Had they promised to install this extremist as the new Mand'alor? She wouldn't bow to another Yasha Cadera. The Mand'alor must be chosen and respected by the people. And respect was earned...

She was a bold one, This Joti. Despite her attitude, She had no reason to be here save for offer her beskad should trouble arise, And to listen what her Vode had to say. She was the last of her clan and commanded none. She had fought for neither side during Yasha Cadera's various wars, And in fact her people, Clan Jjota of Concordia and of the Cin'Vode, Had fallen into obscurity since the clone wars, And been wiped out during the Red Coronation. She held no influence nor power, Save the one: Pure unadulterated will. She willed herself to be here and so it was.

And so she stood there defiantly beside Siv Dragr , Dressed in her faded red Beskar'gam with her capelette flapping in the cold breeze, Her staff in one hand, The other on her hip, And her Beskad across her back. But unlike her Vode, Joti was far more talkative than others, A credit to her moniker "Johayc", Meaning "Spoken" in the Mando'a tongue.

"We wouldn't be standing here if we were "Neutral" in this war. Just because we are "Neutral" in the petty politics between clans does not mean that we are not Mando'ad. It does not mean that we will sit idly by and let our blades grow dull, No. The Enclave is not a single faction, It is an Idea. The Enclave is a place to raise the children, To train the foundlings, To forge our armour and sharpen our blades before the conflict to come."

"Every Mandalorian out there is already fighting this war, Whether it be under your banner or their own. The only difference between our Covert and yours is that we fight our battles differently, And we let them fight under their Own Banner, As have the clans since the days of the Taung. If you want to suggest a target and talk strategy, Fine. Point me in the right direction, My Beskad serves the Mandalore and it's people, But I will bow to no man."

"...Nor emperor."


Siv Dragr Kestus Bralor
​

​

 

[Hypatia Arresh]

​

ECHOY'LA
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SoM: Kestus Bralor
Enclave: Aloy Vizsla | Siv Dragr

Hypatia had stood against one of the walls within the Hub. A woman who held no particular claim to any particular clan or group of Mandalorians, found herself within the gravitational pull of the Sons of Mandalore. Most of her time had been spent pulling in low-tier bounties, not the most glamorous work but it was work and it paid. In a pouch that hung off her belt, various currencies of the different systems and sectors across the galaxy. Along the same side was her carbonite 'cold' gun, opposite of it a blaster pistol, while her disruptor rifle hung off her back. Hyaptia got a glance at her own weapon and mused, a smile concealed by the T-shaped visor of her helmet. ​

​

<"That's a lot of talk for people still hiding in the South."> She remarked toward the Enclave's people. Hypatia could see why they would hide, after all, who would approach the Confederacy - who wanted to approach them. <"It is true, we fight our wars differently, but you do not even speak our language. You come here, for what? To show your beskar like the sorcerers show their sticks?">​

​

She held little faith that the Enclave was anything more than someone's way to stroke their ego. Perhaps, perhaps a long time ago the call of one Isley Verd would have held weight, but now - now there was this. Nothing of the old Verd, no, just a half-priced discounted child in beskar. If she wanted to see that she could have sat and watched the Sith-aligned Mandalorians charge up a hill. Hypatia pushed herself away from the wall and came into view. The scorch marks on her armor were clear to see. How amusing, they claim to bow to no one, if that was true then why make the claim at all?​

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

ECHOY'LA
Enclave

The old twilek walked slowly into the hub, her armor shone against the light bearing the symbol of clan solus and cadera, upon her hips sat her new Sabers freshly made, her two westars, her sword Nova on her right gently clinked off her armor, and her helmet rest underneath her arm. As she came upon the group gathered she heard some words traded back and forth and frowned visibly as this was already going swimmingly

Shi jorcu eone garay va jorhaa'ir joha, garay va tid'ica val ru uhyih mando

The old mandalorian spoke, coming into the group as she looked to each person with stern eyes before she cleared her throat to speak again

<to long, have I seen the people who've adopted me fight themselves and tear at one another, I've seen the great purge of all force sensitives, the destruction of the planet as it spewed it's hot hate upon us>

Letting a pause sit in the air she sighed

<I've seen the sith...burn our planet and it's people...I've fought them with fiery and yet pushed back into hiding as I have again and again>

She looked around to everyone again and motioned around the room

<30 years as a mandalorian, not born into it, but adopted into it and molded by it, and yet I've only seen us fighting>

Finally pausing she let that settle and spoke

<I've served as battle master to a mand'alor, I've served mandayaim...and I still serve mandayaim...but the only way for any of us to see mandayaim again is to work together and not repeat the mistakes of our forefathers

after saying her piece she bowed her head and stepped back, but then stopped and turned to Hypatia Arresh

<by the way>

She pulled her saber out and held it up

<this STICK and what SORCERY I was born with serve mandayaim>

She finally stepped back so to let someone else speak

 

[Vaux Gred]

Echoy’la
Enclave

Vaux always did things her way, but today that would have to change a bit. That was because today she wasn’t just going for her. She was there for her brother, Mig Gred , and her clan. That meant she’d be taking a lot of the more cool headed Mandalorians advice. That didn’t mean she had to fly in a ship as a passenger though. Her blood red TwinTail cut through the skies next to the gunship before landing next to it. It’s booms bore the marks of every kill she’d scored in it. From CIS the Sith. Criminal to Slaver. It may’ve been an odd think to see, but it was her history in the paint.

“VeeKay. Keep her ready just in case. Never know what’ll happen.” She would slide out, all her weapons with her. An elctro-whip, a pair of her custom Trayc’kal, a PS-1 shotgun, and finally what looked like the jolt of a lightsaber, more a trophy than a functional weapon. She looked at the others leaving the gunship, then the vode they were meeting, or she would’ve called them vode if it weren’t for the words exchanged. She promised Mig she’d keep her cool, but in all honest it got her blood boiling! Stardust Solus Skirae could probably tell this, mostly because how close to home some of the comments hit. The idea that not being ready to attack meant you were “Neutral” in their words. Acting like there weren’t other ways of fighting, and then the slight comment on Force users. Her own brother and Alor as a Forcie like Star, and it just.... She didn’t always agree with his less aggressive tactics, but in this case, she could see what he was getting at, and they were still alive.

She had nodded to Aloy Vizsla ’s words. Honestly, she already liked this one. Straight to the point. Vaux herself was going to let loose her own tirade before Star spoke. Honestly, she sounded like Mig in some ways. They were both tired of the fighting. She had more history, but they both used to Force for the good of their people. It calmed her a little, bit it didn’t keep one comment from slipping out in Mando’a.

“Since I’m representing my Alor and brother here, I’ll just say he’s tired of fighting as well, and would probably say staying hidden is different than inaction.” Oh Kad! How did she actually not blow up on them?

Siv Dragr Hypatia Arresh Kestus Bralor

 

[Talon Aegis]

Echoy’la
Enclave
Tags: Aloy Vizsla Siv Dragr Hypatia Arresh Kestus Bralor Vaux Gred Stardust Solus Skirae

Talon had little honor to his name, he was forsaken by his clan, and a murderer. By no means did the man deserve to keep his bezoar, yet still he wore it to show accomplishment. With an unfulfilling knowing to what happened to his clan he had many items on his mind. Quietly he sifted through them as he came closer to the entrance. These all shut down as he prepared to see what was going on, thinking time had passed, it was time to discuss topics. With his weapons by his side he was ready.

Talon walked towards the Enclave group in the discussion, noticing some familiar faces, such as Aloy Vizsla and Stardust Solus Skirae . Though he didn't recognize anymore at that moment. Listening to Joti, he could get behind a lot of her ideology, though his clan didn't care much about the rest of Mandalore, he would stand strong along side the planet.

Never again will Talon let a man control what he did, it always brought pain. Power went straight to the head of most causing many to even as far as go insane. When they all had finished Talon said, "<Fighting along side my fellow vod, is a clan in itself, I am glad to be a part of it, but as you can tell they rather not fall in battle for nothing. I agree with the one representing her Alor.>" Talon motioning towards Vaux Gred , "<If we act now it will be brash, and will not be a strong move.>"

Thinking to himself he added on a little to sum up his statement, "<Our chance's of succeeding are little, while we are many, we are not enough. I will say, if my fellow vod call for war, I will stand by their side until I can stand no more.>" Stepping back he held his chin up listening to the conversation.

 

[Wilhuff Krieg]

Once the gathered Mando'ade began to speak among themselves, Bralor was intent to listen though beneath the metallic visage of his Beskar'gam, his eyes narrowed at the combined sentiment. It was a people...confused. Such was the identity of a creed which had all but everything meticulously stripped from them with despicable accuracy.

"We heard of your plans to liberate Manda'yaim,"

"But the Enclave knows messages of liberation and freedom can be deceiving. You are not the first sect of warriors that have promised freedom from the Darjetii, and there is nothing yet to prove that you will be the last."

<"Our people have failed themselves several times before, vode. You would not be so unwise to be skeptical of these aims taken again. Just as it is not too unwise to remain hiding. I do not hold any quarrel with those who seek to build for themselves elsewhere. We are a people bled dry by the Sith and thus I can only expect so many valiant spirits to answer the call. Though still, it is of my belief and that of the Sons of Manda'yaim that we are a people beaten, without purpose so long as these Sith parasites maraud over the grounds which should be ours to cultivate our creed, our nation."> Bralor replies in kind to Dragr.

"We wouldn't be standing here if we were "Neutral" in this war. Just because we are "Neutral" in the petty politics between clans does not mean that we are not Mando'ad. It does not mean that we will sit idly by and let our blades grow dull, No. The Enclave is not a single faction, It is an Idea. The Enclave is a place to raise the children, To train the foundlings, To forge our armour and sharpen our blades before the conflict to come."

"Every Mandalorian out there is already fighting this war, Whether it be under your banner or their own. The only difference between our Covert and yours is that we fight our battles differently, And we let them fight under their Own Banner, As have the clans since the days of the Taung. If you want to suggest a target and talk strategy, Fine. Point me in the right direction, My Beskad serves the Mandalore and it's people, But I will bow to no man."

"...Nor emperor."
​

His narrowed gaze shifted to the Mandalorian as she so brazenly spoke of fiery independence. Thus was the appeal of this Enclave after all. That they would be free from all chains and obligations, even if this crusade, this blood oath was a penance self imposed. To march willingly into the hell fires, into the fiery pit where the demons had carved a home all their own.

She spoke with tenacity as in kind with Hypatia Arresh in a swift retort of the woman.

<"The strained Sith-Imperial Legions have let the Braxant Run fall at the hands of the New Imperial Order with our forces in tow. Thus, the corridor to Manda'yaim shall soon be open. But so then I must ask, if this 'Enclave' is much more a metaphorical object of interest rather than a united entity...what prevents it from being so easily swayed and manipulated in itself? What prevents a subversive figure from swaying the lot of you? Ideas are far more easily distorted than what is tangible."> Bralor questions in return.

<"But that is not why you all are here."> He iterates.

<I've served as battle master to a mand'alor, I've served mandayaim...and I still serve mandayaim...but the only way for any of us to see mandayaim again is to work together and not repeat the mistakes of our forefathers

<by the way>

<this STICK and what SORCERY I was born with serve mandayaim>

His arms crossed over his chest as the Mandalorian, Trajan Fett at his flank moved a hand down to grasp the pistol grip of his disruptor at his hip at the drawing of the Twi'lek's lightsaber hilt.

<"It may be due time to explain why the Clan Solus has willingly collaborated with the Sith Empire and its Emepror then...if you are so dutifully loyal to Manda'yaim and her people. Before you dare draw your weapon in these halls, you would be best to explain yourself in a jury of your kin, Solus."> Bralor speaks, his voice dipped in venom as he speaks, referring to a Sith Edict passed not long after the final desolation of Manda'yaim.

“Since I’m representing my Alor and brother here, I’ll just say he’s tired of fighting as well, and would probably say staying hidden is different than inaction.”

<"If that is the choice your Alor has made on the behalf of his people than so be it. As far as I am to be informed, Clan Gred has done its part in resistance against the Sith. Once more, if the clans so see it in their interest to build for their own elsewhere, it is not my place to argue what it is in their interest. The Sons of Mandalore have barely been afforded such luxury, save for what we have taken alongside The Order. Thus, Manda'yaim and the Mandalorian Protectorate will be the foundation of a nation due to shred what has made us weak, what has made us exiles to begin with."> Bralor iterates.

Hypatia Arresh
Siv Dragr | Aloy Vizsla | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred | Talon Richwood

 

[Szilvos Kelborn]

ECHOY'LA
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OPEN INTERACTION | HELP ME BREAK IN A NEW TOON
---

He had little right to stand in this room, much less even be accounted among the ranks of the Teh Manda'yaim.

Instead, Szilvos stood with a single foot in a world he knew he belonged in, and another one still coated in sin. The pleasantries and blessings that he had been given in his new life, that of a Mando, was something he could have never dreamed of years prior. The forgiveness shown to him, the extended hand pulling him through the breach while others held a Beskad to his throat and asked him to recite his final words. The clan Kelborn proved to him time and time again that these Warriors of Iron were far more than what the propaganda reels had led him to believe. He was broken, battered, brought to the edge of what his livelihood should have been, the Great Mother herself had reached out and touched his heart as blood trinkled from his neck.

And now he stood amongst his new kin and kith, within breathing distance of the same land that they damned all of his formers to. Simply for the fact of existence. The new Mandalore would be built upon the broken back and shattered bones of those that dared to stand against their natural right over their sector. So why was he here? Why, out of all the countless billions, should he count himself among their file? It still hardly made proper sense to him, then again, quite a bit about the life of Mandalorians hardly did. They were a strange people, we were a strange people, he had to constantly correct himself. The swap to registering thoughts through a Mando’a filter itself was a major change to his life, sometimes, he still found himself floating back to the familiar native tongue.

Instead he stood, as voices called out from the gathering around him, shouting for this and that. Some gathering of others, the Enclave they called themselves, had shown up in full force it seemed. The Sith had held Moridinae… Mandalore for ages longer than the Nelvaan could bring to mind. And there was plenty, plenty of groups clad in Beskar all thriving to free it. To be honest, it wasn’t the fact it was the Sons of Mandalore that made him think they had a chance, it was the backing of the New Imperial Order. Those that had defied the Emperor, sending the chants of Imperius to the wayside as stormtroopers broke over the waves of Legionaries.

Who was the Enclave to him, besides yet another group of Mandalorians concerned amongst themselves for the future of their home.

Though, perhaps they’ve forgotten the reality of the situation.

Genocide.

That’s what they were reduced to without help. The Mandalorians had to change, or die at the next jackbooted Empire to rage through the sector. Friendship was something rare, something to covet, perhaps some could be made to see that.

For now, between all of the bickering, the Nelvaan Mando, with the only Beskar being the helmet clad on his head, stood in the center of things. Arms folded as he took in the battering of words that echoed through the room.

Great Mother, don’t let any of them try to engage him… he wasn’t sure his Mando’a was up for it today.

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

"but you do not even speak our language."

...
"What?"​

Joti turns to Hypatia Arresh , Another strange face(Or Buy'c, Rather.), And cranes her neck to the side. Was she serious right now? Could she not hear the conversations being held in Mando'a at this very moment?

"Ni jorhaa'ir haar lalat pirusti, ori'vor'e!... Mirdir sol'yc. orhaa'ir projor. Gar vaabir kar'taylir ni. " She says quickly in a clean, Crisp concordian accent, As if it was her native language. Because it is.

​

She shakes her head and turns her attention back to matters of importance. Seeing these "Sons of Mandalore" give her and everyone else here the cold shoulder, so eager to throw insults their way after Inviting them, It reminded Joti of exactly why she had avoided Mandalorian space even before the fall. There was no community outside of one's own clan, And she couldn't help but wonder if these were the people that would have raided one another's territories if they were not "United" in their hatred of the sith right now. It made her feel just as alone as she had been before being invited to meet the Enclave weeks ago when they first opened their hall. It made her remember how alone she had always been without her clan. It made remember exactly who she was: Just another Ghost.

Stardust of Clan Solus, Warmaster to Mand'alor the infernal, was the next to speak, Breaking the red clad Bounty Hunter's train of thought. Her words in mando'a, Stating that one needn't speak the language to be mandalorian, Were truth. She couldn't help but think of all the foundlings, Young and Old, Who were still learning the language. This caused Joti to nod respectfully to Stardust Solus Skirae . She had no love for Yasha Cadera, But the warmaster seemed respectable so far.
And then came the lightsabers... She was tainted by the force... Her clan had been jedi hunters long ago, And between Yasha's connections with the sith causing the Cin'Vode massacre after the Red Coronation, The Silver jedi's war against her people and the Sith enslavement soon after, Joti had been instilled with a deep hatred. Her fist clenches briefly, But she takes a deep breath and regains her composure, Loosening her grip.

"The wizard is right..." A disappointed sigh crackles through her vocal enhancer. "The "United" Clans fell to infighting as much as the Sith. As have many of our people since long before... We cannot allow Mandalorians to fight one another any longer..."

Little of the conversation interested her after that, Save for the fact that a familiar face had joined the retinue. Talon Richwood and Joti had been through hell together, And he had earned her respect. Finally she didn't feel so alone here.

if my fellow vod call for war, I will stand by their side until I can stand no more.

​

"Talon share my thoughts exactly. The Enclave isn't organized enough to fight as a unified entity. It is a community, Nothing more. You have an Empire at your back. I may have no love for Stormtroopers under a new name, But if you and your Empire reach Mandayaim first, Than I will gladly join you in battle."

Then came Kestus Bralor 's turn to speak. She crosses her arms, Leaning forward out of interest. This man, Though she hadn't caught his name, Was interesting in the sense that she knew nothing about him, But that he seemed to have the attitude of a warrior. Not only that, But a warrior who seemed to listen as much if not more than speak. He had observed each one and picked apart the noteworthy dialogue, Offering his own opinions through questions before moving on to make statements regarding the empire and what they'd achieved through their patronage. An advantage that Joti couldn't deny, But what price would they pay?"

"If this 'Enclave' is much more a metaphorical object of interest rather than a united entity...what prevents it from being so easily swayed and manipulated in itself?"

"Hmph."
​

He had moved on before she could say anything, But he was right, to a certain degree. He was also somewhat hypocritical in her opinion, But it was only human of him. It was a valid concern, But as it stood right now, She'd seen no reason to believe his fears would come to pass. The Enclave was built up of individuals, Barely more united as a community than the her fellow members were with the Sons here right now. Hell, There would probably be endless bickering in the shuttle ride back...

Speaking of which...

"It may be due time to explain why the Clan Solus has willingly collaborated with the Sith Empire and its Emepror then..."

"What?"
​

She turns to Stardust Solus Skirae again, Staring at her in silence through the cold and empty black of her visor. Her thoughts and emotion remained hidden to the force user thanks to the neural band built into her helmet, But her shock and confusion was evident by the sudden silence the talkative mando had taken to.

Kestus Bralor Siv Dragr Stardust Solus Skirae Vaux Gred Talon Richwood Kestus Bralor

​

 

[Hypatia Arresh]

​

ECHOY'LA
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SoM: Kestus Bralor | Szilvos Kelborn
Enclave: Aloy Vizsla | Siv Dragr | Talon Richwood | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred

<"Oh the dog speaks now, how quickly we move to speak proper Mando'a. Instead of whatever gutter speak the Southern Systems have created."> Hypatia wasn't amused by the Enclave, less so by their dog. <"Ah yes, Clan Solus the licker of boots, perhaps at least their offense isn't as grievous as the previous Mand'alor who shared her bed with the Emperor."> Although at the sight of the sorcerer drawing their stick, Hypatia wanted to laugh. <"You come here, and draw your weapon - in these hallowed halls?"> She scoffed.​

​

Bralor spoke the truth, the Sith-Imperials had become strained by the war. It would only be a matter of time before their home would be theirs to reclaim and to rebuild as they saw fit. A turn toward the one who barked the most before their silence was met with Bralor's issuance of Clan Solus' treachery. <"Good, perhaps your bite might do more than your bark."> ​

​

A member of Clan Gred spoke, Hypatia would welcome their aid and kept still while they spoke. At the moment the floor belonged to the traitorous clan to speak their truths. <"At least the Sith-aligned darmandas have the presence of mind to stay at their master's heels.">​

​

<"Or would you like to wave your glowstick again?">​

​

Anyone else who was here on behalf of the Enclave voiced more sensible concerns. Hypatia's arms were crossed over her chest as she sidestepped away from where Trajan Fett had approached. ​

 

[Briika Munin]

ECHOY'LA
IJAAT TAYLIR
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

The silver-clad Baar'ur stood at the back edge of those gathered for the meeting between the Sons of Mandalore and the vode of the Enclave, which was based out of the Southern Systems. The agenda was to discuss working together to liberate Manda'yaim from any Sith influence and take back the Mandalore sector for its People once and for all. Collaboration between clans wasn't an easy thing to achieve but was needed if this endeavor was to be within their grasp and a finality.

Briika's son Adenn Munin , dressed in his green beskar'gam, flanked his mother on one side while his older sister Kaiyra Munin , donned in red and black armor, was on the other. Now that the Munin children had come of age and each passed their verd'goten, they too would be privy to the planning of this most important campaign of their short lifetime. Though Adenn and Kaiyra had both gone on clan missions with their parents, this would be their first official crusade. Exciting times or nerve-racking depending on the individual's POV. This would make or break Mandalorian warriors alike, seasoned, and not.

<"And here we go... Welcome to the world of Mando politics, ner ade,"> Bree offered sagely to the younger Munin's over their family comms as the talks began adding a caveat. <"Where there are many more di'kut words spoken than haat.">

A knowing grin came over the Tor-Munin's face though it was hidden behind her blood-red T-visor before she spoke again, this time for Vilaz Munin 's pleasure or displeasure depending...

<"Oh and cyar'ika... Don't even think about using your wrist rockets or poison darts to get your point across when it is your time to speak for our aliit. I'm watching you,"> Bree smirked with a heartful chuckle to follow, poking good fun at her husband's expense.

The Concordian would never live down his former good-intentioned yet sometimes irrational actions - poor man, though a path of redemption before his peers was not out of the question here and now, manda willing. Anyway, there was work to be done, and done it must be by all who hold the ideals of their culture dear.

Kestus Bralor | Hypatia Arresh | Szilvos Kelborn
Siv Dragr | Talon Richwood | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred
​

 

[Siv Dragr]

E N C L A V E

Tag: Aloy Vizsla | Talon Richwood | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred | Kestus Bralor | Hypatia Arresh | Szilvos Kelborn

The Vode traded insults like they were foundlings, bickering back and forth over petty, meaningless things; accents, fluency, allegiance. It was trivial, unimportant, yet for some reason, these insults were taken to heart by some. Siv felt his ire draw as Stardust ignited her lightsaber in a challenge, and narrowed his eyes as one of the Manda'yaim stepped from behind their apparent leader, Kestus Bralor, drawing his own blaster. "Solus, put your weapon away," he said shortly, not taking his eyes off of Bralor and the rest of the Sons of Mandalore. They had come here to talk, not to fight.

His eyebrow raised as another woman came forth, one whose armor and clan both he did not recognize, and challenged their fluency in Mando'a. Another eyebrow joined raised as she then went on to mispronounce Mand'alor, giving it an incorrect emphasis, and Siv stifled an ironic laugh. Whoever this bold young warrior was, he doubted that the steel of her blade matched the fire of her mouth, and merely shrugged off her verbal attacks with a degree of nonchalance.

"Quiet," Siv spoke, raising his voice over the din. "We did not come here to bicker like children," he added aside to the members of the Enclave that had joined hi here. Raising his voice, he turned back to the group of Mandalorians who stood, blocking the entranceway into their fortress. "We came here to talk, not to fight. Manda'yaim may be lost, and it may be centuries before she is rewon, but the Mando'ade is no place, nor are they a race. We are a creed. Manda'yaim is wherever the Mando'ade are."

He turned, to half-face both groups. "For us, and the Enclave, the pathway forward is not red with the blood of martyrs, weakening ourselves time and time again on futile attempts to take back our ruined home. We instead choose to rebuild our society, our culture, and our people, regardless of whether the Darjetii or any other controls Manda'yaim."

He rotated to face the Sons of Mandalore once more, with an air of finality in his voice. "We will not commit more lives to your futile crusade. But we wish you the best of luck. Kapr tyatr crita dral ti gar tracyn," Siv ended with a traditional Clan Dragr farewell before turning back, the wind blowing his cloak back as he marched back along the path he had come.

The Enclave had come to see if the fight the Sons of Mandalore fought was worthy. Harsh words were not the greeting they had expected, but leaving was better than shedding the precious blood of the Mando'ade that still lived. They'd return to their Southern Systems that the Sons of Mandalore disdained. And they would build there in peace.

And perhaps, one day, they would have built their strength enough that they would indeed be able to free Manda'yaim.

But today would not be that day.
​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

Tag: Siv Dragr Hypatia Arresh Kestus Bralor Stardust Solus Skirae Talon Richwood Vaux Gred Szilvos Kelborn ​

​

The silent anger beneath her Beskar'gam had nearly peaked when the nameless Bounty Hunter continued her petty rhetoric, While failing to speak proper Mando'a herself, Followed by Siv withdrawing the Enclave... She couldn't believe what she was seeing, on Both Sides no less, Though the woman that seemingly never shut up was the worst by far, And the fact that Kestus was silent on the matter spoke volumes.

"Enough!"

* Chink*
​

She slams her staff into the ground. "It is pronounced Dar'manda. There is no plural form, And We use an E in words that Do Have a plural form. Not the Aruetii S. Do not presume to educate me in a language that you do not know yourself. Whatever your problem is, You can find me later, And we can settle this like Mando'ad." She removes a holocommunicator from her belt and throws it at Hypatia Arresh 's feet. Should she take up the offer of a duel, The message could be sent or the duel itself recorded via this small device.

Then she turns to Kestus Bralor , "And you..." Pointing to him. "Twice I have offered my blade to your crusade. It has gone unanswered each time. You Invited Us here, And all we have received since arriving are baseless insults and needless suspicion. While you have said nothing."

"If you still wish to see my blade on the Battlefield, Than you may speak to me as an individual, But you have clearly lost the interest of my kin, And I refuse to stand here and be mocked by your inferiors until they have cause. Your "Linguistic" friend here especially, Can either put her money where her mouth is, Or get out of my sight. I'd suggest further lessons in Mando'a during that time..."

"I came here with the hopes that your people shared the same goal as myself: A free Manda'yaim, Liberated by Free Vode."

"But clearly neither I nor my kin are welcome."

"Was I wrong...?"
​

She waits there, Refusing to look back at siv and the others. A small part of her hoped that this could still be salvaged, That the claims of a single foundling did not represent the entirety of the Sons of Mandalore. Surely they could come to some agreement. Surely they would all march to Mandalore together one day, And Kestus Bralor meant to bring them into the fold, Right...?

​

 

[Szilvos Kelborn]

ECHOY'LA
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OPEN INTERACTION | HELP ME BREAK IN A NEW TOON
---

Kelborn, admittedly, was still new to all of the specifics about Mandalorian politicking. Perhaps thy wasn’t the proper word for it, but the current back and forth that the Enclave and Sons of Mandalore were engaging in was hard to describe as anything else. What did it matter how they reclaimed their home? Was abandonment really a better alternative than being willing to accept a place in the Galactic pale as a whole? Szilvos couldn’t see a possibility where the universe accepted the Mandalorians concept fo existence if the true isolationism was kept to the sharp edge that it seemed that the Enclave was pushing for.

Though, in truth? He couldn’t be sure if that was even what they were advocating for, as the constant back and forth between Basic and Mando’a, neither his birth language, was beyond maddening.

The Nelvaan raised his hand, nearly like a schoolboy in a university, before plainly blurting out.

<“Tion'jor mhi cuyi’jorhaan Aruet’joha?”>

 

[Talon Aegis]

Aloy Vizsla | Hypatia Arresh | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred | Szilvos Kelborn | Kestus Bralor | Siv Dragr

About to speak Aloy Vizsla , had silenced the room hitting the staff onto the ground. This was followed by a challenge to the woman who was speaking out of place, Hypatia Arresh. This caused Talon to put his eyes back at the ground in disappointment. Talon was not a brash man but to see his vod turn into animals hurt him deeply.

Talon quietly stood there listening to the ensuing argument, shaking his head. This had not been what he came here for, he came to discuss about how the SoM and Enclave may help eachother, the bickering had become too much. He found it pointless and childish to the point where he wished not to hear of it much longer.

"<I had come to discuss, the bickering has gone on for long enough, it seems as this divide will slow down our causes. Both parties wish for the same cause, yet neither can come to an agreement. The sides haven't even tried to compromise, while I feel that it would not be the best idea to start a war that will end poorly.>"

Talon tried to be as concise as possible, though he didn't expect much of a reaction out of either. All he expected is to be drowned out by the words of the rest. What he really hated hearing was them outing one for mispronouncing, though he still didn't agree with how Hypatia Arresh was acting towards his vod.

"<While I do believe that we should gather an ally, I do not agree with yours. Such an inconsistent ally could prove to be fatal. Though we should not turn our backs on eachother, at this time we need your partnership as much as you need ours. I wish you the best of luck vod in your travels, understand that if arise from the Mandalorian people I will join in.>"

Quietly standing there he looked at the parties, a bit annoyed with their antiques, though even though he wasn't the most fond of the SoM he still would join them in a call to arms.

 

[Campion Kast]

Kestus Bralor Aloy Vizsla Siv Dragr Hypatia Arresh Vaux Gred Stardust Solus Skirae

Campion had heard the call as others have done, and just like the rest he so quickly followed after it. He didn't know much of the Sons of Mandalore, he only knew that they were a recent movement backed by deserters of the Sith. The new empire was known as the New Order. He couldn't blame them, what better way to take down the Sith Empire was by using people that had a long overdue grudge with the Sith. Not that he cared much for the neatness and the shiny armor of Stormtroopers. The Bounty Hunter admitted that the Mandalorians themselves were already scattered too thinly across the galaxy to act by themselves.

Then again who was he to them. He was just a simple hired gun, while true he had honored and respected many Mandalorian traditions. Ever since the Sith took Mandalore, he had tried his best to leave it all behind. Where did it all need, days spent hiding out on the outer rim taking whatever credits, for whatever job he did. He couldn't keep running forever, and so here he was clad in some makeshift armor. Not a proper Beskar'Gam, he was not ready for one not until the Sith attacked. Since then he had to make due with what he could get his hands on. Some plating and a helmet, knowing that it did not matter as being a Mandalorian came from within.

Standing among the others, there was two sides. Sons of Mandalore, and the Enclave. He couldn't say much about the other, hardly knew them. Yet he did know that they were all Mandalorians one and the same. They needed to work together, to put aside differences. Not argue, not go at each other's throats. He stood awkwardly next to Szilvos Kelborn Watching as the rest seemed so content on bickering. Some wishing to leave, some trying to keep the whole thing together. As much as it was pointless Campion spoke anyway.

"< Please, do we need to be at each other's throats. This has led to the decline of our people for far too long. Perhaps we should be open about this, while the Sith rule what remains of our world we are scattered. We cannot allow ourselves now to be divided. We need to organize and band together for the great crusade against all our enemies. If we remain as such the legacy and honor of our people will be nothing. I for one say that whoever backs us. We take what is rightfully ours.>"

He doubted he would be heard, much less listened to. He had to try, and that was what all he could do.

 

[Wilhuff Krieg]

The air of tension was palpable in the house of the Sons of Mandalore. And here he was, wary of those who'd thought themselves adherent to the creed in the greater Galaxy. He was vindicated once more once the scions of the Enclave began to speak. Far too easy to miscommunicate, misinterpret, to fabricate conflict over such meager misalignment in belief or interpretation. A simple question erupted into a heated argument.

He fielded the sentiment with narrowed eyes and steady patience, but it was waring, even on the wisened Alor. He could only spare so much for them, in spite of the blatant similarity in beliefs and virtues, they were shaving hairs and splitting wounds to create tense conflicts over non issues.

<"I will not field any more of this childish drivel, within these halls we speak our mother tongue. I don't care if you speak it well or not."> Bralor says, speaking in Mando'a as he has been since the meeting began.

<"You two will settle this in The Crucible or quiet yourselves lest spoken to. I will not further waste anyone's time over this drivel."> Bralor speaks up between Hypatia and Joti.

<"Nor will I have our crusade be deemed futile by those who have never lived beneath the rule of the Sith Empire. Those who have never seen in person the atrocities done to our homeland and its people. And that who is unwilling to fight it. Unlike others we are not content to live in false peace and security beneath the rule of the Sith. Regardless, live about the creed as you fit. I welcome any of you are willing to fight to stand with us in our struggle, forge a bond in the field of battle putting these parasites to the blade. No price is too high to pay for reclaiming our home, for bringing blood and iron to those who have defiled our identity. A moment in defiance in defense of our home is worth everything more than a lifetime spent on your knees."> Bralor states in full confidence.

<"Manda'yaim...is Manda'yaim, make whatever home you wish for elsewhere, but we will not give what is ours so easily to these foul monsters. You have been invited unto our Hold to clasp a hand between Mando'ade, not to create needless bickering. If that is what incited you to come here, you are not welcome here. If you are content to live on your knees in a false peace, you are not welcome here."> Bralor states.

Hypatia Arresh | Szilvos Kelborn | Briika Munin | Campion Kast
Siv Dragr | Aloy Vizsla | Stardust Solus Skirae | Vaux Gred | Talon Richwood

 

[Fenn Stag]

He remembered. He always would.

Eight Years Ago
Mandalore

His father handed him over the leather-bound book. In the privacy of his own home, not looking through the visor was a sacred act. He ran his fingers over the leather book, glancing up.

"It is our ledger- our family's lineage. Each one marks their name when the time is right. You are an adult now- you are a warrior to be. It is time you make your mark in the family book, son." He placed a strong, loving hand on the shoulder of his son. "The book is for the family. But you- you are for the people. Our family, our clan- all these come after the Mandalorian people. Our people. I love you son-" He handed the knife over to his son. His son took the ancient wooden pen, inscribed his name, and ran the knife across his ring finger- the finger that ran close to his heart. And with a press down on the page, he made his mark on his family's legacy.


Now-
Echoy'la


That book was burned in the hellfire wrought by Kaine Australis and the daughter of Preliat Mantis. It was wrought by weakness, not by their hand- but Fenn found it equally appalling and they were guilty all the same. Anger burned in the young man, anger and rage and loss so great it was measured in droves. Fenn was a man of few words, a trait shared by his father and his mother. His helmet glanced upwards, towards the commotion in the room.

<"We must take back Mandalore- as those that came before did. We must avenge our people. Regardless of what horse we ride into battle on, we need to ride into battle- together. This is the way.">

Fenn, a hopeful diplomat, and a vengeful man.

Hypatia Arresh l Szilvos Kelborn l Briika Munin l Talon Richwood l Aloy Vizsla l Siv Dragr l Kreslin Westwind l Kestus Bralor

 

[Hypatia Arresh]

​

ECHOY'LA
SONS OF MANDALORE SPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SoM: Kestus Bralor | Briika Munin | Fenn Stag | Trajan Fett
Enclave: Aloy Vizsla | Siv Dragr | Talon Richwood | Kreslin Westwind

Honestly, Hypatia had to conceal her amusement. Even when Bralor threw down the gauntlet to which Hypatia motioned with a come hither movement with her hand. It was evident that these vode an, would rather sit content - in the falsehood created beneath the skirt of the Confederacy than to take back what was theirs. When Bralor spoke of the Sith's atrocities she was glad for the T-visor shaped helmet. It concealed her facial expression, to watch her Clan be shattered, devoured by the Sithspawn, and torn apart by the war machine of the Sith Empire.​

​

The sight of Mandalore being stripped of its resources to glorify the dark sorcerers. The time spent moving from bounty to bounty, collecting funds to get ahold of beskar that now was harder to find than in seasons past. Hypatia understood that this time the Great Hunt would set the crosshairs over every Sith who ever breathed and lived. <"If she wishes to settle this squabble in the Crucible then I welcome it. Until then, I stand with you and any vod who wishes to take back what is rightfully ours.">​

​

<"We are called to defend our clans, our tribes, and now our home, for far too long it has been defiled by the likes of the Sith Empire. No longer, shall it remain so - for I have yet to meet a dark sorcerer who has not fallen to the blaster. These New Imperials have shown that they can be broken, now is the time to strike. They are weakened like a womp rat left to burn in the heat of Tatooine's twin suns.">​

​

<"We are the Sons and Daughters of Mandalore, the Children of Manda'yaim who will not be silenced. We will not sit idle while the blood of our kin dries into the stripped soil of our home. If this is your choice, if you choose to fight for your home then join us. Those who stand here, stand ready to bring the fight to the wretched dark sorcerers.">​

​

<"For today is the last day that they shall breathe safely, contentedly on the beds of our dead. For tomorrow, they shall perish and feel our wrath, cut down by iron while their incense burns - for through the fire and the flames, we are Mandalorians, and we shall prevail.">​

​

Hypatia by all accounts was a right cut of a nexu, but she was Mandalorian. Raised by Clan Rodarch on Onderon, taught the ways of the Mandalore. Taught to speak the language and brought up in the path of war, the call of blood - she found her path lined with that of the Sons of Mandalore and so long as their paths aligned so too would she be here. ​

Post Inspired By; Jaxson Gamble's Won't Go Down Easy​