Private The Dark Children

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

Ukio.

An agricultural world, a breadbasket of much needed food and goods. Right outside Enclave reach, and in the pathway between the Enclave and Galactic Alliance, it was a prime target for the Mandalorian Enclave to strike in its glorious crusade. Of course, hearing of the sackings of Ryloth and Rodia, the planet was quick to act in boosting its defenses. It was the mission of a group of Si'kayha recruits to track down outposts of weapons caches and... dispose of them. The Enclave needed to weaken their defenses in a war of steady invasion, before they themselves sacked Ukio for its goods and riches.

One such Si'kayha recruit was Mevia Vizsla. She had been training for months to become one of the Enclave's elite soldiers. It was tougher training than even her grandfather, Kranak Vizsla, had given her - and he was Si'kayha himself! But Mevia was not about to quit, not when her sister had betrayed the Enclave, her auntie died, and-...

... Well... she had not been considering quitting until now.

"Mevia, please, don't fight out of hatred anymore."

Buir...

Mevia sniffled as she watched a singular tower. The lone outpost was sitting in the night, holding precious weapons and armor supplied by some unknown source, in Mevia's mind probably the Galactic Alliance, to aid in defense against any upcoming invasions. Mevia gritted her teeth. Today had not been a joyful day. She and her fellow recruits had been running around half the planet, stealing and destroying weapon cache after weapon cache. Outpost after outpost fell, and the Si'kayha recruits had done well to plant evidence that it was pirates, not Mandalorians, who had done it. Of course, many of her fellow recruits had dawned smuggler disguises so survivors would be none the wiser. But Mevia, well, she went for a more nuclear method of making sure no one saw her - no witnesses.

Mevia dashed for the tower, hiding behind the door with her Skathe pistol in hand before turning and kicking down the primitive door. Immediately, workers turned around and noticed the intruder. One guard leveled his rifle and shot a blaster bolt towards her. Mevia lifted her shoulder blade and let the beskar plating block it. Then, she turned her slugthrower pistol on him and fired a pyro round at him, cutting him down. It was one guard, but several more suppliers remained. But Mevia took no notice of their frightened faces, in the Ukion midnight, as she lifted her vambrace towards the aruitii. No survivors.

From outside the tower, a series of blaster and slugthrower shots could be heard, alongside the sickening slices of a sword.

Eventually, Mevia made it to the top of the tower. Overlooking the night sky, she looked down on the farmland which stretched for miles. Beneath her buy'ce, she thought hard. As blood dripped off her curved beskad, she clenched the hilt of the weapon her mother forged for her.

How can I not keep fighting with anger, She looked up to the night sky, When all I can think about is that you're gone, buir?

Beneath her visor, she shed a tear.

All I can do it take it out on the Enclave's enemies... when it should be taken out on your disappointment of a child.

Her vambrace clicked into action, revealing the first spirts of her flamethrower's fires.

Soon, she was walking away from the smoldering remains of that tower. All the corpses and scattered weapon pieces were left to burn. Mevia's silhoute was pitch black against the roaring flames of the tower. She walked into the forest just beyond, head bowed in grim shame, as she lifted her hand to her H.U.D. She was going to tell her squadron that the last of her targets had been hit, when - her H.U.D. warned her that another presence was near.

Mevia pulled her Hand Cannon from its holster and clicked it into action. She aimed the Disruptor towards where the H.U.D.'s readings told her the presence was. But strangely, she was the silhoutte of... another beskar'gam.

Mevia did not lower her pistol, but she spoke. "You don't have an identification number according to my buy'ce. I'd rather not shoot a fellow vod today, so tell me who you are. And hurry up, my patience is limited."

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

And hurry up, my patience is limited.

"As, I suspect, is your ammunition by now?" he laughed in taunting, but not unfriendly manner. His voice was calm and smooth.

Caesar had been watching this mandalorian, he did not know everything about her, he just had a name and a list of accolades that had brought her to his attention. The Death's hand was a strong but violent organisation, lives were often short and recruitment was a continuous task.

The flames of her most recent work glinted off of both of their armours and Caesar could feel the tension in the air, and the pain, it was glorious. "I do like a vod who keeps the lives of the medics easy" he said as he stepped over the burnt corpse of one of the military engineer personnel, enemy wounded were always a burden, better to just kill them.

"I hope that you are Mevia of Clan Vizsla? I am Caesar Kryze, we've not met before and you've probably not heard of me, I've been out of the galaxy's business for a while. Parent's, ay?" he added, the apparent death of his father and his journey to see the Manda had kept him busy over the years and only recently had he been able to become more active once again.

Caesar gestured to the burning building and the ruins that the woman wrecking ball had created, noone would be using this facility in the foreseeable future, she had done very well if that was her goal. "The fire that burns in your heart is quite impressive, if you are done here I would quite like to buy you a drink?" he held out his arm to greet her in the traditional mandalorian way. The shoulder closest to him had the sigil of Kryze on it, his opposite shoulder, the one that may or may not be embossed with the sigil of the Death's Hand was covered by his cape, no need to tell her everything before negotiations had even begun.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

The vod spoke in a smooth, almost soothing tone. Yet in that same tone, Mevia heard a battle hardened and powerful Mando'ade. He showed no signs of any kind of violence, only... companionship? He offered her a traditional Mandalorian greeting, which Mevia subconsciously mirrored as she contemplated just how curious this was. Why here? Why now? Could he not have approached her at Kestri, the Mandalorian abode? Even as she extended her hand to shake his, she tilted her head in pure bewilderment. Sure, Mandalorians were at home in the battlefield, but interrupting a mission and asking for a drink was just a bit ridiculous.

Still, with the way he admired her handiwork, Mevia wondered if he was a recruiter for something. The Mandalorian Protectors were running around, looking for more vod to restore Mandalore. It was something Mevia wholeheartedly and completely wanted to do. Unfortunately, she was spending so much time in her training in the Enclave, she found little time for such things.

His comment on medics lives being made easy with her handiwork... actually mellowed the Chiss Mandalorian down. She looked back at the burning building as he complimented her efforts. Beneath her buy'ce, her eyes cynically narrowed, but softened.

Were any of them parents? Did their children too lose their family?

The question made her uncomfortable, itchy. She had to reassure herself that she had done what was needed to be done. For the sake of the mission. For the Enclave. For Mandalore. War was never won by being soft; something her elder sister never quite seemed to realize. But now, her thoughts were on her sister. So discomforted was she, Mevia turned her gaze back to the newcomer. She forced her thoughts away from what disturbed her, and back towards the situation at hand. Their hands were still extended towards each other, ready to settle their allyship.

"I'm in the middle of a mission. I still need to report my success and return to where the fellow recruits are supposed to rendezvous."

Mevia took his hand. Crushgaunt on crushgaunt, she gave him the firm and strong sort of handshake one would have expected from a fellow vod.

"Still, a drink afterwards sounds good. I could certainly use one. Where do you prefer to get your tihaar? I could meet you there tomorrow evening, I'm free then."

Caesar Kryze .

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

He nodded, that was fair, who would recruit a vod that didn't complete a mission to appropriate standard. He could let her complete her task and then meet for a drink later.

Where do you prefer to get your tihaa

"Where I prefer to get my tihaar and where I am willing to get it are two different things. I'm sure there is a bar on this planet who can serve up something passable?" he smiled under its helmet.

"There is a space station in orbit, a trader port where I have a room and I've spotted a bunch of Enclave. Meet me there in one rotation for that drink then?" He would leave her to her work, blasting off into the distance, he had little to do in the meantime but hopefully this recruitment would be worth the wait.

one rotation later

Caesar sat in the bar, it was a quiet night, news of the attacks by Mevia Vizsla and her had kept people away, either picking up the pieces from the attack, mourning lost kin or just generally keeping their heads low until things blew over. He was fully armoured other than his helmet that sat on the tablet next to him. In front of him was a large bottle of Tihaar, it wasn't the best, but it was alright. He glanced towards the door as he played with his double labret, wondering whether his date would be armoured herself or not. He took a long draught on his cup, glancing back over at another vod of the deathwatch that sat across the room from him, his people had enemies and while he was not afraid to travel alone, having a second to help dump this whole station into the atmosphere if things went south, it just made sense.

It would soon be time, he wondered if she would show.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

Mevia was, by nature, a sloppy person. She preferred to sleep in late, was far from organized, and preferred to be loose and free through her day. However, she was disciplined where it counted. She was able to toss her more spontaneous nature aside when needed. She could get up early for training, she could prioritize tasks and complete work before play, and she could show dedication and resolve to keep focused on her goals and ambitions. As a Si'kayha recruit, she put her duty and discipline above all else - even if her bunk was still never made in the morning.

And thus, she made it to where she was supposed to meet her fellow vod right on time.

She walked into the bar, wearing her golden beskar'gam proudly as ever. Being Mandalorian was a part of who she was. Even compared to her mother and sister, who were more casual in how they followed the Resol'nare's requirements for showing their Mandalorian heritage, Mevia wore her armor nearly everywhere public. She walked past the holotelevision screens, hearing of the string of "pirate" attacks that hit multiple weapon and equipment caches and outposts. She froze for a moment, watching one reporter break down in tears. "He was my uncle! He's gone!"

Images of Mevia's fallen auntie flashed before her eyes.

She gritted her teeth, tearing up beneath her buy'ce.

Was was this all so hard, all of the sudden?

I need tihaar...

Mevia spotted a familiar Mandalorian, seated in front of a bottle of tihaar. Kemme'viawa'nuvci strode over to her vod with heavy steps. She plopped herself onto a seat, tossing several coins onto the table as she eyed the bottle. One bottle would not do today. "I'm buying more."

She raised her hand, waving over a waiter, "Hey! I need another bottle of tihaar over here - no, three!"

The waiter looked quite annoyed at the rudeness as he quietly walked off the grab three bottles. Mevia reclined in the seat with a heavy sigh, releasing some of the stress from her shoulders. She leaned on one side of the couch, an arm lifted and sprawled across the top of the cushioned back. She looked across the table, at her acquaintance, and gave him a nod.

"Su cuy'gar, vod. I'm here."

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

"A woman who likes her tihaar, its a shame its not good.

Su cuy'gar, vod." he replied and dipped his head. What to say first, he was curious what was under the mid, he had heard various rumours but it was impossible to know what was the truth and what she just wanted people to know.

"I'll get to the point Mevia of Vizsla, I am impressed with the way you carry yourself, and I need more people like you to fight along side me, so here I am, offering you a path. The work is tough, our foes are many, but the spoils are good." he smiled broadly and poured another glass of tihaar. It wasn't possible to know his reaction, but only a moron wouldn't be able to guess what she wondered.

"But who am I? What do I want?

I am Caesar Kryze, steward of the death's handz scion of Mand'alors the Unchained and Ruthless." Mand'alor the Unchained Khamul Kryze was likely a name she knew, but she might be less familiar with Dohorn Harert. "So, my blood has a fire in it, one that you too might enjoy if your recent history is to be understood."

Khamul had been out of the galaxy for a while, ever since the end of the second Great hyperspace war, if Caesar's research proved correct, then it was before Mevia was even born, but the name was something that many mandalors recognised.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

Mevia did not care if the tihaar was good or not, she just needed to unwind. Her mother's words, the words of Jedi she had fought such as Elias Edo , and the images of so much death before her plagued her mind. When several bottles of the poorly brewed tihaar was brought over, Mevia did not hesitate to rip the top off of an entire bottle, ready to chug the whole thing. She lifted her hand to remove her buy'ce, but paused as Caesar spoke of the need to join a cause. It was quickly obvious that this was not the Protectors Mevia had been hoping to learn about. Talk of hard work and many foes was one thing, but she picked up on the word "spoils." The spoils of war? Mevia had never cared for looting and plundering. But Mandalorian business was her business, so she listened still.

"I am Caesar Kryze, steward of the death's handz scion of Mand'alors the Unchained and Ruthless."

Vizsla froze. Those-those words... those people... Her red eyes widened beneath her visor as she remembered her history. Death's Hand, led by the so called Mand'Alor Khamul Kryze. The violence of that Mandalorian faction was infamous, but that was not what was concerned, alarmed, and infuriated her. What truly made her heart pound was what Death's Hand was affiliated with... who they belonged to.

The Brotherhood Of The Maw.

Mevia rose from her seat, glaring down at the scion of Khamul as she clenched the open bottle of tihaar in her hand. Her crushgaunt hid just how much her hand shook, as liquid spilt across the floor from how she tipped the bottle. Seething, she clenched her other fist hard as she swallowed the heavy lump in her throat.

"How do you think I would possibly join your House?!"

She lifted the bottle and smashed it against the ground, causing quite the explosion of glass and booze as she crushed the remaining glass in her crushgaunt.

"Do you have any idea what your father's buddies did?! The Brotherhood Of The Maw! A vile, abominable order of savages and monsters, joined by the same types of Sith who destroyed Mandalore decades ago! How could any true Mandalorian join such an affront to our people!"

Heavy breathing made her broad shoulders rise and fall. The young mando'ade let go of the powdered and smithereened glass as it fell to the floor below. As tihaar dripped off the table and puddled on the floor, Mevia lifted her hand to grab the brim of her buy'ce.

"Regardless of how the Sith defiled out ancestorial home, regardless of how the Maw brainwashed and tormented by own auntie to join their ranks by force, regardless of how the Maw fought against my Enclave, regardless of how the Maw's Dark Empire slaughtered my mother... there is no possible way I could ever join you! Look at me!"

She ripped off her helmet. Thick, smooth locks of long black hair whipped as she jerked her head back. As the hair landed over her shoulders, she lowered her gaze and focused red, burning eyes on Kryze. Her blue skin stood out boisterously against her golden armor, and she pointed to her face. Crimson eyes burned with an ever-consuming fire as she remembered.

"Do you know what the Maw did to my people!"

She lifted her buy'ce and slammed it heavy against the table, as if made of lead. She continued to glare at Kryze, but she did not move to grab a weapon or prepare an attack. Her mother had asked her to stop fighting out of hatred. The confusion and dismay swirled in Mevia's head, as all her recent questions and the guilt she fled from came back to her. She wanted... she needed to know... what could have possibly been running through the sick skulls of her fellow vod to join the deranged Maw. Why? And why had they been so determined to humiliate, displace, and decimate the Chiss the same way the Sith had done to the Mandalorians?

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

You did not need the force in order to sense the change in the woman's mood, and several people in the bar looked over as glass cascaded widely across to ground. His own second reacted but Caesar just shook his head, he didn't come here seeking a wallflower, if her next action was to try and rip his throat out, then he would just call himself a good judge of character. Then she pulled of her helmet, that hair that face, she was Chiss, this was going to be much more complex than he had planned, but not insurmountable he hoped, anger was a great source of power after all.

Damn she was beautiful...

"I'll take that as a maybe?" he calmly said, pushing an unbroken bottle toward her and placed his own down.

"I'm not going to lie, you already know, we are affiliated to the maw, and allied with certain factions within the Sith, and i'm not going to tell you they arent who you know them to be, there are few people without such crimes in their nations past."

He regarded the glowing red eyes of the young woman in front of him and thought about Csilla and how few Chiss he ran into in war because of that action. He hadn't been alive for the destruction but had heard songs about the glory of the battle.

"You gonna sit back down or pull out a gun? I'm gonna talk anyway so your comfort is your own." he pushed the seat away from the table slightly with his foot to allow her to sit.

"Csilla was cowardly, I was born after that, but there is no honor in destroying a planet from space.

I've shed no tears for the Chiss, but at the very least, the Maw robbed themselves of a great and talented enemy, if the stories are true.

I would have done things differently, fight them one on one, the better man lives, the other doesn't." he took another draught and eyed Mevia closely she wouldn't join the Maw, she clearly had her principles and her honour, she had a lot of pain caused in her life by those very people.

But would she join him? "Your pain has made you strong, given you focus, thats a good thing. I want you Mevia, there is a place by my side in the Death's hand. And if you run in to those that hurt your family you want to call them out, the better man, or woman lives, simple as. I'm not gonna judge if you stick a knife in your enemy." he laughed, it was a friendly laugh, not glossing over what she had been through, but attempting to utilise it. This was the maw after all, you upset the wrong people, you died.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

Caesar was awfully calm in response to Mevia's fury. Water on fire, instead of oil. She listened, with a raised eyebrow, as Kryze spoke on the Maw and Sith.

​

"I'll take that as a maybe?"

Mevia huffed. What part of "there is no possible way I could ever join you" did he not understand? But she resisted her urge to kill him. She chose to listen with gritted teeth, as Kryze spoke on the Maw and Sith.

​

"I'm not going to lie, you already know, we are affiliated to the maw, and allied with certain factions within the Sith, and i'm not going to tell you they arent who you know them to be, there are few people without such crimes in their nations past."

And so, they were just as Mevia thought: savages and tyrants. The little Chiss girl inside her bayed for the Maw's blood, for their crimes against the Chiss. Even after the Maw officially fell, a pocket of Mawite remnants had enslaved a colony of her people on a rock bottom world that even she did not remember the name of, having been one of those slaves.

​

"You gonna sit back down or pull out a gun? I'm gonna talk anyway so your comfort is your own."

Mevia realized her own position. She still was standing, clenching her fists, with her feet firmly planted on the floor. She realized that it was not the most pleasant way to be speaking to someone she was not fighting, and she forced her jammed joints to move despite their anger. She plopped back into her seat, crossing her arms as Caesar continued to talk.

​

"Csilla was cowardly, I was born after that, but there is no honor in destroying a planet from space. I've shed no tears for the Chiss, but at the very least, the Maw robbed themselves of a great and talented enemy, if the stories are true. I would have done things differently, fight them one on one, the better man lives, the other doesn't."

Mevia's shoulders loosened a little. She felt pride thar Caeser called the Chiss potentially great allies, anger that he did not mourn the loss, respect for acknowledging how cowardly the action of destroying Csilla was, and disrespect that he ended on the note of merely "doing things differently."

The Chiss never should had been targeted at all!

​

"Your pain has made you strong, given you focus, thats a good thing. I want you Mevia, there is a place by my side in the Death's hand. And if you run in to those that hurt your family you want to call them out, the better man, or woman lives, simple as. I'm not gonna judge if you stick a knife in your enemy."

Mevia sighed. Caesar was ever so persistent. She had to give him that. She let out a long sigh, rolling her shoulders as she attempted to calm herself enough to speak. But with all Caesar had admitted about his thoughts on Csilla, she had to bring up something it made her think of.

"The Maw was an effective, brutal fighting force. They had countless numbers, endless resources, and some kind of twisted motivation to see whatever they set out to do done. But they were sloppy. So many different groups, from Sith to Scar Hounds, all rallied under one banner. But they all had different objectives and purposes, despite uniting under one objective and purpose under that banner."

She shivered, clearly chilled to the bone as she muttered, "War, death, and rebirth."

She paused for a moment, glancing at her tihaar. She wanted so badly to crack open the bottle Caeser had set before her and chug every ounce, every drop. But was it wise? Even if he himself was drinking, should she be dropping her guard by becoming intoxicated? Common sense and distrust battled her emotional instability. She reached out, running a finger upon the side of the bottle. She really, really needed relief from how she felt right now.

She blinked her gaze away from the bottle, looking up to Caeser with a bitter scowl. "Your 'Dark Empire's must be more organized, but they also include members of the old Empire. I am no idiot, I know what the Empire did to all their Chiss civilians after a small number of them attempted to revive the Ascendancy within their borders. The New Imperial Order has its sins against my people as well."

She curled her fingers around the bottle, clenching it tightly. She briefly glanced at the swirling liquid inside before looking back to Caeser once more.

"And the discrimination has not changed, in case you weren't aware. I was a slave to Mawite remnants even after the Maw officially fell, until my buir rescued and adopted me. Think that's just something from shortly after Exegol? Well, your little pals in the Scar Hounds kept chanting some cultish nonsense about how every Chiss needed to die, when I fought them recently. If you think they would welcome me, well, it's laughable. The Maw only wishes to see my people go extinct, and that's only what they did to the Chiss. The Maw has done much to my vode, and my immediate family, as well."

She scoffed, pulling the bottle closer to her. She popped the lid off and looked down into the bottle. At this point, the extreme anger was buried under a more contained moodiness. She utterly despised the Maw and their minions, but Caesar spoke of things such as honor - and he made no moves to kill her. Mevia realized, as she blinked slowly at the bottle she held, that she might as well return the favor.

Perhaps, she could drink after all.

She jerked her head back and took a swig of tihaar. Several large chugs removed a solid third of the liquid from the bottle. She set it down with a heavy thud, swallowing her finishing gulp. She lifted her arm and wiped her mouth, despite the cold beskar it smeared against.

"But what about your Death's Hand? Why join the Maw? Aren't there groups such as the Enclave that prospered, even if for a time, independently of outside aid from a daddy faction? What separates Death's Hand from the rest of those brutes? Do your Mando'ade carry some kind of honor and justice those animals do not? Would you stand beside the Dark Empire as they trampled my peoples once more? And why do you still attempt to sway me when I've told you how much the Dark Empire's combined powers have neutered my kind?"

A part of her cringed at what the answer could be, but she had to ask, "And what do you see in me?"

​

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

The woman responded about as well as Caesar could have expected her too, at least she sat down and the chance of violence abated, even if only slightly and temporarily. And she appeared to know her stuff, she understood the Maw well.

"Yes, very sloppy, but it does show the power of conviction, dont you think?" he gave a little shrug, how such a rag tag force could have plunged all the way into alliance space to coruscant was an impressive feat, how many of those original warriors were now dead, and how many had sired the next generation like himself.

He pondered the realtionshop between his father and the Sith'ari. "My father has served the Maw, that is correct, but only because they serve our purpose just the same. The Death's hand are amongst the strongest stock that the Manda has to offer, but we are fewer in number than the likes of the Enclave." he made a gesture to say "hence this" "We provide an elite fighting force for the Maw, they help us grow until a time where.... well, come along and find out." he laughed and took his a swig on his own bottle. He watched as the young woman downed her own again, she knew how to drink, he wondered which particular pain she drank for.

"I didn't know you were a slave. Let me raise a drink to your Buir for dragging you out of there and crafting you into something quite impressive." he raised his glass and took a drink. "And fuck the Scar Hounds, use 'em for target practice for all I care, soaking up bullets is basically all they are good for. You're a mandalorian, you are worth ten of them. They'll chant anything as long as it keeps them fighting in the right direction." he gave a wry smile, he had no respect for that cult, but they did serve a purpose.

Then she asked a very direct question of him, what did he say? "What do I see in you?

Well, your battle record speaks for itself, but more specifics. Let's see, you completed one of the most gruelling training schemes our kind have to offer. You are willing to get the job done, even if it means getting your hands dirty. Even your attitude now, you know who I am and who my father is and you uphold your honor to tell me what you think. I think that proves me right."

His eyes changed and he gave a slightly and hungry look at the woman "And I think if anyone were to see your face and decide rob the galaxy of such an exquisite beauty, then they will beg for death before I am done with them."

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

"Yes, very sloppy, but it does show the power of conviction, dont you think? My father has served the Maw, that is correct, but only because they serve our purpose just the same. The Death's hand are amongst the strongest stock that the Manda has to offer, but we are fewer in number than the likes of the Enclave."

Caesar motioned with his hands, in a gesture that said "why we're doing this.

"We provide an elite fighting force for the Maw, they help us grow until a time where.... well, come along and find out."

Mevia frowned. She was a simple person, who preferred things spoken plainly and bluntly. A to the point kind of person, she had never been a big fan of how people like her sister spoke in long, drawn out babble involving philosophy or stuff like that. At least, the rest of Caesar's words made one thing clear - there was no true loyalty to the Dark Empire, only a business contract. A means to an end, with an ulterior motive when the perfect timing came.

The question was... what was Death's Hand planning? What was their goal? What they fought for, was it for the betterment of Mandalore?

"I didn't know you were a slave. Let me raise a drink to your Buir for dragging you out of there and crafting you into something quite impressive."

As he raised his glass to her, Mevia felt a prickling sensation of... joy. She had always wanted to be acknowledged by other Mandalorians. An early life being treated like an animal, then being raised in the shadow of a child prodigy, then having the very father who found her leave her... Mevia had never felt truly strong, deep down, no matter how hard she trained and fought. Having all her efforts being acknowledged by a fellow vod, by a man nonetheless, made her feel something in her endless void filled. Even if only for a moment.

And in that moment, she faintly smiled.

"And fuck the Scar Hounds, use 'em for target practice for all I care, soaking up bullets is basically all they are good for. You're a mandalorian, you are worth ten of them. They'll chant anything as long as it keeps them fighting in the right direction."

Kemme'viawa'nuvci scoffed in amusement, starting to feel more comfortable around Caesar as he spoke poorly of those wretched Scar Hounds. Pushing them down, and propping her up, Mevia snickered at the thought of the Scar Hounds burning for their abominable deeds. In her mind's eye she saw the Knights Of Ren, and the Scar Hounds who assisted in her mother's death. The Death's Hand seemingly disdained them as well. If that was all true, was vengeance for Gwyneira Vizsla still possible? Was vengeance for Csilla still possible? Taking another swig of tihaar, she did not realize how much she already was starting to like Caesar personally.

"What do I see in you?"

Mevia's posture had been far looser and relaxed. But when he said that, she froze for a moment. She set her bottle down, sitting a little straighter, as her heart began to pound. This was it.

"Well, your battle record speaks for itself, but more specifics. Let's see, you completed one of the most gruelling training schemes our kind have to offer. You are willing to get the job done, even if it means getting your hands dirty."

It was true. Mevia had been training to become a Si'kayha, the Enclave elite. Her grandfather was one, her aunt had once been one. She took wanted to join those glorious ranks. As of late, however, she had been starting to reconsider it. The undying loyalty required. Was she even able to take that vow? Her aunt had left it, her mother had refused to join it. And Mevia's mind echoed back to her mother's corpse.

Was being Si'kayha... truly what she wanted?

She saw other corpses too, scattered at her feet, as her slugthrower pistol still smoked from the slaughter. She was indeed willing to get her hands dirty. It was a ruthless galaxy, where it was eat or be eaten. She was starting to feel guilt, and hating that guilt, when she simply abided by how the galaxy works. Would she ever be free from that guilt?

"Even your attitude now, you know who I am and who my father is and you uphold your honor to tell me what you think. I think that proves me right."

Mevia was starting to drown in the compliments of somehow who appreciated her. Mevia had been taught by her mother and sister to never back down on her convictions. So here she was, standing by them. For Caesar to respect even that, it made Mevia sit up with a posture of more self confidence. Mevia was a simple person, after all. She was not going to beat around the bush to hide what she thought of the Maw.

All the ways he made her burst with pride, however, and he was about to discover one final opening to tap into. One final shatterpoint to draw her to that place by his side.

"And I think if anyone were to see your face and decide rob the galaxy of such an exquisite beauty, then they will beg for death before I am done with them."

Mevia's blue face turned purple as she blushed. Making it even worse was the way he gazed at her, hungering for her softness just as much as her power. She only blushed even more, unsure as to how to respond. He thought she was worth defending, worth honoring. He thought she was... beautiful... Her jealousy for Elise's own relationship echoed in her mind, just as much as her heartbreak over another vod pained her. Emam had always thought Mevia was attractive, but he had never looked at her with the appreciation Caesar was right now. She was merely a hot chick, easily usable, then swapped out for another pretty face to toy with the next week. Emam broke her heart, but had awakened a part of her she had never known existed. Was it possible to be looked at with such desire, touched even, and to be truly appreciated as a warrior, as a person, as well?

In that very moment, Caesar gave her hope.

Mevia gaped, and realized just as such after a couple moments. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took another long, several gulps of the tihaar. She set the bottle down, cleared her throat, and looked up to Caesar, who still wore a smirk.

"I- uh, well..."

She closed her eyes, clearing her throat a final time before finally composing herself.

"I, uh, appreciate the compliments." She looked away, a hint of flustered laughter in her tone. But also, genuine joy over hearing someone speak of her... in all these ways. She looked back at her tihaar, and she knew what questions and concerns she had next.

"So... Death's Hand essentially was using the Maw, and is now using the Dark Empire. Death's Hand is higher than them. You take what you need, then leave them to bleed when the moment comes."

She had to admit, that sounded like a brilliant revenge strategy.

"But what is the end goal of all this? Death's Hand has more to it than those Scar Hound ge'hutuuns. So what is it?"

She took another swig of tihaar, now emptying the entire bottle. She looked over to the waiter and shook her bottle, demanding a refill with her actions. She continued to look at Caesar, as a fire burned in her eyes.

"The Chiss are not my only kin who have been treated disgracefully. Long has Mandalore and her children been enslaved, tormented, and rendered homeless by Darth Carnifex's abominable Sith. And long have the rebuilding efforts of the Enclave been cut down by the Galactic Alliance, and their own ploys to cut down future competition in galactic power. We have been neutered long enough, and all I want to see..."

Mevia glared in the intensity of her dream, "All that I desire, is to see our people rise again. All I want is a prosperous Mandalorian kingdom, where we live without fear of our many enemies. And I want to see all who would oppose us burn, for putting their boots to our necks decade after decade."

Mevia shoved her bottle away, letting it fall and roll to the side of the table.

"Tell me, Scion," Vizsla challenged, "Do you too dream of that?"

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

So it appeared he words were having an effect on the chiss woman, he was saying what she needed to hear, and he meant every word of it. He smiled as her own body language softened and she began to appear more receptive. She had a beautiful smile, her hair was stunning, it was a pity she was armoured as now he was very curious what else there was too this woman, but there was time for that.

"I get the impression you don't hear these things often, I'm surprised. Well, I am a man who likes to speak his mind, come with me and it won't be the last time you hear the words impressive, or beautiful." he began loosening his breastplate a little, for comfort, but also a subtle indication between warriors that he viewed the chances of hostility between the pair as over.

He nodded to her comment of the Death's Hand using the maw and the Dark Empire, he wished he could give her more details of the plan, or even a timescale, but rushing plans was a sure fire way to ensure that they failed, they needed to bide their time until the right moment.

"Do you too dream of that?"

"A Mandalorian empire in ascendance, with the Sith and the Jedi put in their places and in no position to enact their repeated crimes against our people?

Absolutely.

Can you imagine that, a world where our children get to see the fruits of what we built for them with out blood?" He made a long sigh and a prideful smile. If the Enclave had not chosen to side with the Alliance during the Second Great Hyperspace War, he could respect what they were doing. But even now they were learning the treachery of the Jedi and their Order of the Alliance beat the drums of war to put down the mandalorians once again. Even the protectors, their efforts to rebuild were noble, although their desire to hide on mandalore rubbing shoulders with the Jedi was, again, a mistake. There may even be war coming with them one day if they continued down their path, it was a shame, he would rather avoid the vod on vod clashes that had weakened his people forever.

He suddenly looked thoughtful leaning on the table to move a little closer as he looked her directly in those red eyes "Mevia is your core name, correct? Before your time as a slave and subsequently a mandalorian, did you have a formal Chiss name? I would like to know it so I can appropriately honour you." She might not wish to share it right now, but he wanted her to know that at least to him if not the whole maw that her species did not make her lesser.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

"I get the impression you don't hear these things often, l'm surprised."

Mevia frowned a small frown. She heard a lot of her mother telling her that she was a strong warrior growing up. But that was what she was told by her mother, who equally spoke kindly of the eldest, a prodigy. Mevia could not help but doubt everything her family told her, when she was a nobody amongst giants. The facts spoke plainly, more plainly than the blissful encouragement of biased family. A biased family that still pitied her for the slave girl she once was.

Hearing someone who was not her family, someone who had not seen what she was, speak of her strength simply impacted her way, way more.

"Well, I am a man who likes to speak his mind, come with me and it won't be the last time you hear the words impressive, or beautiful."

As Caesar began loosening his breastplate, Mevia's heart jumped. How was he able to get such a response out of her? And why... was she seriously considering joining her enemies?

As another bottle of tihaar was placed in front her her, she reached for the bottle with a confused expression. She popped the bottle open, and before the cap clattered against the table, the bottle with already halfway downed. Mevia slammed the emptied bottle against the table as so many things swirled in her mind. The news of the Death's Hand's underlying motives, and all the ways Caesar honeyed words undid her cold exterior. Was it lies? Truth? What was going on! Her guilt, her inferiority, her grief. It all cascaded and stormed inside her, crushing her certainty.

"A Mandalorian empire in ascendance, with the Sith and the Jedi put in their places and in no position to enact their repeated crimes against our people?

Absolutely.

Can you imagine that, a world where our children get to see the fruits of what we built for them with out blood?"

Mevia's eyes sparkled at that dream. Death's Hand, Caesar Kryze, and she herself all shared the same dream and ambition. Mandalore's glory. The desire to see their people spearheading a glorious empire, where all their enemies were crushed for all the times they had crushed them. An empire where justice and prosperity reigned, where even honorable aruetii such as the Chiss were protected from the villainy of the likes of slavers and Sith. Mandalorians, standing at the top where they were supposed to be.

It was a future Mevia so desperately craved.

Was a Maw affiliated Mandalorian faction the closest to giving her that all along?

Then, Caesar scooted closer to her, looking into her red eyes. Permanently blushing from the amount of alcohol in her system, Vizsla subconsciously leaned closer to him as well, eyes slightly drooping. He could not be playing her the same way her previous crush had, right? They shared the same goals and desires, after all. It all sounded so convincing. And if Caesar was one of the ones spearheading such a strong movement... well, it would not be so bad, if she chose to...

"Mevia is your core name, correct? Before your time as a slave and subsequently a mandalorian, did you have a formal Chiss name? I would like to know it so I can appropriately honour you."

Mevia's eyes blinked open in surprise. No Mandalorian had ever shown true interest in her Chiss identity before, aside her own buir. Mevia had proudly learned Chiss martial arts and integrated Chiss technology into her weapons and armor. But no one truly bat an eye, before now. The young vod looked down for a moment, shame covering her eyes as she admitted something.

"I was born a slave. I don't know who my biological parents were. My earliest memories even, were taskmasters keeping us alive so we could become worker drones the moment we could walk."

The "stables," the "pens" where Chiss infants and toddlers were caged and raised to eventually be let out as workers crossed her mind. A nauseating existence, that made her shiver looking back.

"But, my fellow Chiss did call me by a Chiss name. We were not allowed dignity, but it did not stop us from adhering to our traditions."

Mevia gulped, looking back up to Caesar as she leaned closer. Chiss names were a sacred thing, and offering this identity was a great show of trust. She was starting to become quite intoxicated at this point, however. So telling such a thing to a handsome and flattering stranger was so much easier. She offered a trust to him, in this moment, that she never had thought she would give a Mawite associate in her life.

"My name is Kemme'viawa'nuvci."

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

As she leaned closer and Caesar could see the intoxication in his eyes he could see that he was having an effect on her. She was powerful but her desire to be, desired was making her malleable, he would certainly bed this woman, but not yet, for her to wake up filled with drunked regret might undo the work he had son so far. He reached up and put his hand to her face and brushed a little of her soft hair out of eyes. An onlooker might think he was about to kiss her, she too might make this assumption, and he was certainly considering it, but right now he wished to feed her need for someone to find her desirable.

"My name is Kemme'viawa'nuvci."

His hand was strong, but moved delicately near her temple. "A strong name, I shall make sure to remember that." he smiled and stroked her blue skin one more time before retreating slightly. "I am very glad you decided to meet with me tonight.

So, do you accept my offer? Kemme'viawa'nuvci; or do I return to the Death's hand a broken and rejected man." he laughed, knowing very well that her impassioned rejection could very easily lead to the deaths of either one or both of them. And likely most of the poor souls on this orbital station. He took the moment to look around the pair, at the people who had no idea how much danger they were in from this otherwise innocent looking conversation. "Innocent, ha" he muttered to himself replying to his own inner thoughts.

The woman next to him was quite drunk but seemed still in charge of her faculties, her body language was wonderful though and gave Caesar a lot of what he needed. The only thing to know what what her final decision was.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

Equipment
Armor	Beskar'gam.
Melee Weapons	Davaab'beskad, personal Chiss "Execution" beskad.
	Jetii'Kyramud, Soul Sword.
	Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Rifles	Tyatr'geriuvr Plasmag Rifle.
	Igradi Light Repeating Rifle.
Pistols	KYR-54 Skathe Hand Cannon + Regular, Pyro, and Cyro Rounds.
	M.I. Model 6.
	HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon.

As Caesar began to stroke her skin, goosebumps coated Mevia's body. But she... liked it... a Mandalorian who trained to become so powerful, survived being a slave, and even went through Si'kayha training... was reduced to something far more vulnerable, as she continued to lean into Caesar's touch. The drunkeness was coursing through her veins, and she was beginning to lose her. Perhaps it was because, deep down, she still saw herself as that weak slave girl only worth pity. She leaned into and accepted everything Caesar did to her, longing for the tastes of validation they gave her.

"A strong name, I shall make sure to remember that. I am very glad you decided to meet with me tonight."

He was so strong, so powerful, but so gentle. A dominant Mandalorian, mighty and brutal... but capable of showing graceful elegance to his fellow vod. Mevia's heart pounded, as she pressed her shoulder against his and closed her eyes. Emam had never treated her like this...

"So, do you accept my offer? Kemme'viawa'nuvci?"

Those words woke her up.

The offer.

Was she going to join Death's Hand?

"Or do I return to the Death's hand a broken and rejected man."

Mevia's senses returned to her as her blush intensified from embarrassment. What was she thinking! She barely knew this guy, and he already... he already... The Chiss lifted her hand and touched her brow, her head begining to pound in pain. All her stresses returned to her, and she realized something as she glanced at the empty bottles and broken bottle before her... she was in no condition to decide right now. She was reckless, but not stupid.

She pulled away from Caesar, slouched in her intoxication as she cleared her throat. A tear, brought on from something she did not even know, slipped down her cheek. She looked up at the ceiling, laying back in her seat, as she spoke next.

"I thought my sister was a coward for leaving the Enclave. But I'm starting to lose faith in them, as their crusade stalls. Mandalore is rebuilding, under a Mand'Alor they refuse to recognize. They look out for their own interests, and not the interests of Mandalorians as a whole."

Her headache increased, as lifeless bodies flashed before her eyes. Her sister's wounds flashed before her as well. Was she losing faith for more reasons than just that? And if so, how hypocritical was she for thinking her next move could be joining Death's Hand.

"But I have my auntie and mother's legacies before me. Would I let them down again, joining this?"

She closed her eyes, sighing.

"You make convincing arguments, but I need time. I need to think this through, if I'm going to do something so drastic."

She opened her eyes, looking over at Caesar with drooping eyes, "Give me a week, then meet me here again, same time. I'll bring my decision then."

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

He made a sharp intake of breath as she pulled away and slumped back down, eyeing up the various discarded bottles that surrounded her. She was drunk, it didnt matter to him of she wanted to get drunk in a bar, but it was a shame that she was in no state to accept all that he had to offer her right now. A week? He considered demanding a lesser time, but no, he was a drawn to the woman as he was the warrior so he would give her this respect, it would grant better payoff later, perhaps.

"It is a shame that the Enclave have lost their way, there are some fine warriors amongst them, perhaps one day they too will be united under the banner of the greater mandalorian empire we strive for."

He thought about the man calling himself mand'alor right now on their ancestral home, he had no intention of acknowledging that claim either, but that was a discussion to be had later. Perhaps he would visit mandalore, it would remain to be seen whether these protectors deserved the title, but rebuilding in itself was noble. Less for his people to rebuild later after their conquest.

He stood "You may have your week. Perhaps you shall settle a bet that I have made with myself that your beauty extends and only increases below your neck line and come unarmoured? You have my word as vod that even if you refuse to join the deaths hand, you shall be in no need of it from me."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, a polite gesture to say goodbye but he let his lips linger just for a few seconds, the alcohol was making her sweat, she tasted and smelled like a warrior, but her skin was soft.

He pulled away and moved to leave. He let out a sigh as he considered that once sobered up her perception of him might be quite different. "The most deadly flowers are often the most beautiful, but flowers can still be crushed. I hope it should never come to that between us." he touched his iron heart and then left. He nodded at his vod that he watch her until she left to, should some unpleasantness befall her while she was drunk.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

"It is a shame that the Enclave have lost their way, there are some fine warriors amongst them, perhaps one day they too will be united under the banner of the greater mandalorian empire we strive for."

Mevia frowned, nodding in agreement. The Enclave had never been united in their crusade either. Some cowards were too soft hearted and afraid to fight the Galactic Alliance, and some even defected. Kestri had improved economically in the past year, but had fallen into disrepair during the time Mevia had grown up. It had been why her mother raised her elsewhere. Now that she was dead, Mevia saw through her eyes much clearer. If only... she was here now.

Gwyneira may had not been fond of the crusade, but she had aided the Enclave the best she could as a defender and crafter. Mevia winced, remembering how she had called her a coward for her position on the crusade. She did not deserve when Gwyneira saved her belligerent daughter later...

"You may have your week. Perhaps you shall settle a bet that I have made with myself?"

Vizsla looked up to Caesar, depression in her eyes concerning her mother. At the very least, Caesar was giving her the time needed. Already, she saw herself being the ultimate hypocrite for considering this. But her drunken confusion and grief were quickly replaced with something else as Caesar continued to speak.

"That your beauty extends and only increases below your neck line, and come unarmoured? You have my word as vod that even if you refuse to join the deaths hand, you shall be in no need of it from me."

Her blue skin turned deep indigo as her eyes widened. Suddenly self conscious, she drew her arm over her stomach shyly, despite the armor covering her figure. Her heart pounded, feeling embarrassment at the thought of walking in unprotected, to be gawked at by this hungering man. And yet, as she continued to sweat, she did not immediately shoot down the idea. In fact... she...

-He kissed her.

Mevia's heart leaped out of her chest, sunk deep into her ripcage, then bubbled back into place. His lips pressed against her forehead, tender and mighty and soft all at the same time. His breath lingered on her skin as he took her scent in. Strange tears flooded Mevia's eyes as her entire body felt shockwaves of desire ravaging her nerves, muscles, and skin. As Caesar gave her his goodbye, he only complimented her more. But she did not quite catch what he said before he departed, leaving her behind as a mess.

Her lips moved, subconsciously imagining the sensation of what would have happened if he had pressed his own against her's instead. But as she looked down at the bottles left behind from her flurry of emotions, Mevia brought her hands to her face as she muttered, "What the kark, Mev! What are you-"

All her emotional swings from the last several minutes came crashing down as they caught up. Mevia sobbed at the table for a long time, her back throbbing, as she impulsively ordered even more drinks to cope with the storm inside.

A week had passed...

Kemme'viawa'nuvci has thought a lot about her predicament. Her mother had warned her not to fight out of hatred, so she tried to see the situation through calmer eyes. And yet, she found herself surveying things in a surprisingly similar light. The Enclave was weak, that much was clear. The reckless crusade had pushed the military to the brink, and all the funds that could have gone into infrastructure and rebuilding Kestri's streets instead had been pooled into a losing game. The Protectors were far wiser in their ways. They were dedicated to a healthy mix of rebuilding and military might. But when they were dancing with the Galactic Alliance, she worried about the future of the Protectors as well.

When would Mandalorians learn? They had no friends. They only had each other... and they needed to unite under one, powerful banner with the strength and guts to do what was necessary to win in this cruel galaxy.

Walking into the bar, Kemme'viawa'nuvci adjusted the black leather jacket on her back. The emblem of Clan Vizsla was printed on the back of the jacket. Her leather biker gloves had cosmetic spikes that sparkled in the bar's lights. Her shirt only covered her chest, leaving her toned, muscular stomach to be admired. Even then, the simple black top didn't leave much of her figure to imagination. Her dark gray pants had a chain attached to it. He black boots had the Chiss Ascendency emblem printed on the sides. As she walked through the bar, looking for her familiar vod, her Iron Heart necklace glistened on her neck. The curvy Mandalorian woman reached up and brushed some hair behind her ear, still holding her speeder bike's keys in her hand. On her hip, she wore her Breshig Disruptor pistol. A warning side arm, showing that she meant trouble to anyone who would dare to try and harm her.

At last, she caught sight of him. Mevia approached Caesar Kryze, a proud Mandalorian stride to her step. This has been a long week. Passing her final trial as a Si'kayha, only to denounce the vow. Dealing with her grief of her mother and aunt. Spending more time with her cousin, Yuri. Once again contemplating if she should try to make amends with her older sister.

I'm sorry, Buir. My hatred has not died down just yet.

She stopped before Caesar, offering him a Mandalorian salute with a grim, determined expression on her face.

But I will do what I can, to make the kind of future you wanted for us. Even if this makes me and her enemies on the battlefield...

She lowered her salute, head still high, I will try to mend our bond once more. If not right now, then soon.

Mevia heaved a heavy sigh, her chest and shoulders rising and falling as she let go of all the stress within her. A strange clarity has come over her. Her guilt would have to wait, for this galaxy never played by a hero's rules.

"Caesar Kryze," Kemme'viawa'nuvci declared, "I will join Death's Hand."

Caesar Kryze

 

[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

Spoiler: now wearing

It had been a not-unproductive week for Caesar, he had met with several other parties and had even had quite an enjoyable fight with a young man who thought himself above the Death's Hand. Caesar had however spent much of the week thinking about tonight, the true objective of trip. He sat in the very spot he had a week earlier he contemplated what the woman's response might be. Caesar had chosen to come unarmoured, it was only fair given his request. He wore a thin patterned shirt which was very slightly transparent to show off his own physique. He also wore dark trousers with his personal sigil on the belt buckle. He also considered how she might attend, he grinned behind his tihaar with expectations.

And he was not disappointed.

The stunning blue visage crossed the bar towards him, her red eyes popped against the blues and black of her skin, her hair and her outfit. His eyes explored every curve and feature of her in the moments she walked over and he stood to greet her. The clan emblems on her outfit spoke of her pride of her heritage, she would soon add another emblem to the ones she called her own. He returned her mandalorian salute but did not say anything in return until she spoke. Her strength and determination was clear to see, but he felt no hostility and he had a good feeling about the words that might follow.

"Caesar Kryze," Kemme'viawa'nuvci declared, "I will join Death's Hand."

He smiled menacingly. "Mevia Vizsla, you will add strength to our cause and to the greater mandalorian people. Our enemies should count their days." He reached out and gave her a mandalorian handshake. He was very pleased with this result and would return to new mandalore with more strength. But there was something else. As their handshake ended he drew himself closer and placed his hand on her blue hip, he could feel the strength in her muscles as easily as he could feel the femininity.

"And how does Kemme'viawa'nuvci feel about this future. I for one look forward to getting more aquainted." he ran his finger gently up her skin, following the line of the top of her sidearm, a test of trust, he had his hand on both her weapon and her flesh. His finger continued to trace the lower part of her ribcage until his fingers settled behind her, flexing slightly to squeeze her.

 

[Mevia Vizsla]

A level of self consciousness crossed her as she felt Caesar gawking at her features, but she pushed that self consciousness aside for the situation at hand. She had been trained by her grandfather and the Si'kayha to take meetings and missions seriously, even more "casual" ones such as this. She kept her head high, trying her best to keep formality as Caesar, unarmored himself, offered her a salute then a proper handshake. Mevia had just turned herself over to a foreign Mandalorian faction, and by extension to her greatest enemies they served under. In the moment of formality, Mevia had to keep her strength up in her internal feelings of weakness.

But the entire meeting's aura took a different direction, when Caesar dropped the business like seriousness and placed his hand on her waist. In their previous meeting, their beskar'gams kept them from this sort of interaction. But now... Mevia's heart pounded as his hands moved, feeling her. Her breathing grew heavy and sharp, as her face turned purple once more. Never had she thought this sort of thing would fly in the Si'kayha, but she was not in the Si'kayha anymore. She had abandoned everything, just like her sister, for a cause she thought was better. And no matter how much she had muled over it, she could not get over how stupidly reckless she was. And furthermore, as he squeezed her, heightening her feelings of vulnerability, she could not get over how her feelings for her recruiter had not gone away.
​

"And how does Kemme'viawa'nuvci feel about this future. I for one look forward to getting more aquainted."

Mevia did not once move to reject his touch, and not once did she show any signs of rejection. Yet, even as her cheeks flushed, her red eyes were dead serious as she looked him straight in the eyes.

"I hope you know what I'm doing." Her tone was still the same as before, like a soldier on duty, "I am walking into a business contract with my greatest enemies, the ones I want to see burn more than anything. The Maw, the Empire, I had better live to see revenge."

She took a step closer to him, her body language slightly loosening. She lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder, "To think, that a Chiss has decided to fight alongside them. I am a hypocrite, and a wretch, and a traitor. But I will do what I must for the betterment of my people, to see Mandalore rise to greatness once more."

She pressed herself against him, her heart pounding so hard that he should be able to feel it. Her eyes finally softened, as she admitted her trust, "I am trusting you to be my guide and protection in uncharted territory, my guardian. I hope you know how much trust I am putting into someone I just met."

And so, they stood, so close. Quickly, a business meeting turned into a strange mix of trust falls and flirting. Mevia had now fully dropped her marine's demeanor, and was showing Caesar a trust she could only hope he would not break.

"My basilisk is already packed with all my belongings. I am ready to set out whenever you are ready. I truly do hope you realize..." She looked away, shyly, "How much faith I'm putting in you. I hate feeling uncertain. I'm putting a great leap of faith in for you. I'm dedicating everything. Now, I would ask that you return the favor, my vod and Alor'ad."

Caesar Kryze

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[Caesar Kryze]

Location: Ukio
Objectives: Greet
Tags: Mevia Vizsla
Gear: in main bio

Spoiler: now wearing

Over the years in the Nether, Caeser had encountered many foes and faced risk of death more times than be could count, but he was pleased that the touch of a woman such as Mevia could still make his pulse race and as she pulled in closer to him, returning the obvious desire that he was displaying he was excited for their future.

The Maw, the Empire, I had better live to see revenge.

He laughed, "A good reason to stay alive then? You are giving me everything and I shall give you nothing less. If you betray me, then I will hunt you down and make you regret it.... I hope the feeling is mutual" the words were a threat, but his demeanor gave away that it was intended also as an offer of promise to be faithful to his words to her, just as he expected of the woman to be to him.

He shook his head when she told him she was a hypocrite, wrech and traitor. Mandalorians were so fractured that he doubted there was a single one of his people who someone would refer to as a traitor, it was one of the saddest facts about their culture. Perhaps one day they both would see a different world. "One day, the descends of those who call you a traitor now, shall call you a hero to the mandalorian, cause." he said with certainty.

"I accept the trust you place in me, and I shall protect you, you too shall have the protection of my vod..." he paused and smirked, regarding the moment his father had accidently killed his last lover during a practice duel. "Should you prove yourself to be worthy of course." she was a warrior, she knew of their culture and would fit in wonderfully. His hand slipped further up into the small of her back and placing his fingers inside the lowest part of the reverse of her top. He guided her head back round to his and placed his forehead against hers."I cant promise you it will be easy, that would be boring anyway. But i can promise that if uncertainty is something you fear, then I shall be very clear with you. Welcome to the death's hand, my vod, my Mesh'la."

He would kiss her again, should she let him, but this time he was not interested in tasting her forehead he would go for her lips and unless she shied away, would kiss her with all the passion that she would allow.