Faction The Few, The Brave I New Mandalorians

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Atin Tracinya Haliat Kryze Varys Amun Herrel Eldar Jenn Kryze Anna Carden Jonyna Si Rayia Si

Minerva was helping herself with a good piece of meat, devouring it like a half starved Nexu. Then heard a commotion close by, noting Varys having a tense exchange with the Jedi guests. Definitely avoiding whatever drama that is. Grabbing a tankard she gulped down a good bit.

Sighing, she murmured. "This is good stuff."

Putting down the half eaten food on the plate she wiped her lips with her free gloved hand. The warrior stopped, appreciating the fact that this was a Mandalorian meal in a Mandalorian feast. How long has it been since she's been to one? Well there was that event in Mandalore with Drego but nothing else. Closing her eyes Minerva nodded to herself. This will be treasured by her even more than the finest jewels in the galaxy.

Then her attention was captured at the roar of the jetpack. Looking up, Minerva saw it was Jenn going into a speech. She joined in the cheers of those present. Then to her shock Kryze landed beside her. At the subsequent Clan Kryze's boast Minerva was taken further off guard as her jaw dropped slightly.

Never in a thousand years did the exiled warrior expect to be acknowledged like this. Honest truth Minerva was at a loss for words and it was evident on her face while looking around the assembled that either beat their fists on beskar or clapped hands in tribute to her. Wide eyed, the adopted daughter of Jorel slowly circled around as it continued. Of course she wasn't blind to those silently resentful in the background.

Minerva can take a good guess why. A Mandalorian willingly fighting under the banner of outsiders and not for credits nor strictly as an ally either. That brands such a person in more ways than one in their eyes.

Let them think what they will of me. That's their business not mine.

Still she can't deny the fact that she can't stay with the Alliance military forever. Because deep down she was a Mandalorian first and foremost albeit one with her own view about honor. But it will be on her terms not anyone else’s. Getting to her feet Minerva cleared her throat and looked back at the vode still humbled by what they just did.

"To be here among you vod, in celebration, is a greater honor than conquering all the worlds in existence. Truth be told I never thought to be able to fellowship with kin again given all that happened."

She paused, her heart swelling in a storm of strong emotions. Getting a hold of herself Minerva looked at them all again.

"When you all of Clan Kryze made your choice to follow your own way as warriors I was inspired. In fact it gave me hope after so long and I'm forever grateful for that. When we fought together as fellow Mandalorians here on Onderon I never felt more alive. The song of your stand that day will be one to remember! Now I realize that even there are choices I made that some here are critical of. I do not seek approval of those choices nor I will demand such from honored vod but know this.

I will stand and fight beside you when called upon, even though we are not of the same clan and we walk different paths. We are bound together by honor and that is more than enough for me."

Minerva raised the tankard and declared in tribute to the fallen.

"Papta at parjir kyrayc!"

With that she downed the rest of the drink before taking her seat again.

 

[Rayia Si]

Location: Onderon
Objective: Family Draamaa~!
Jenn Kryze Jonyna Si Varys Amun

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Rayia had been content to leave it there. Some reassuring words to their hostess, Jenn, in order to mitigate whatever punishment her newest sister would face. Time and again however, Varys was proving to be the proverbial thorn in the lioness’ paw. Every second that Rayia spent around her, every time that Varys antagonised her, Rayia felt as if she was drifting back towards the past.

As Varys finished her latest theatrics, Rayia’s golden eyes found hers humorlessly. It wasn’t enough that she had wounded her, but Varys had also chosen to spite her as Rayia blundered about the niceties of diplomatic negotiation with the intent of saving face for her. Her desire to sock her newest sister right in that clamshell she called a helmet growing, Rayia grit her teeth together.

“How…fortunate I was not speaking to you,” she ground out. Momentarily forgetting her own strength, an immense pressure would latch onto Jenn’s wrist and Varys’ shoulder as Rayia fought her own instincts to bury her claws into Varys. Strength enough to make the beskar creak. It would have been messy if it was any other metal.

Ripping her hand away, Rayia dipped her head towards Jenn apologetically before the Alor would take off to announce the heroes of tonight’s celebration. Her gaze found Jonyna, just as she asked if Rayia was okay. “I… think I’ve had enough of meeting family for one day,” Rayia managed to say with a small, strained smile. “I’ll be down near the feast. Come find me when you’re done.”

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Jenn Kryze Rayia Si Varys Amun

Jonyna watched with a quiet eye as Jenn seemingly scolded her daughter. At least, she was pretty sure it was scolding. Jonyna couldn't speak Mando'a, but she knew body language well enough to understand the basic message. Her mind wandered to the thought of learning the language, but part of her wondered if she would even be allowed it. Mandalorians were rather protective of their culture, and a Cathar, and outsider, speaking it would be pretty out there, surely.

Then again, she had plans to teach Jenn Catharese, so maybe there was wiggle room.

She let out a sigh, looking to her own daughter. "It's okay Rayia, go get some food. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk to Jenn later..." She paused, looking back to Jenn, who seemed to be in the middle of a rousing feast. Outsider. That was a pretty good descriptor on how she felt here. It was the part of Jenn that felt locked behind a door to her, the clan leader. It wasn't hard to see Jenn's pride in that aspect of her life, but Jonyna couldn't partake in it. She couldn't be Mandalorian. Not while also being the sage for her people, and a jedi council member.

But she would support Jenn regardless.

She loved that woman, but she couldn't bring herself to tell her the truth.

She still didn't trust her culture.

 

[Haliat Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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Having made his offer, Haliat had then silently placed the plate down upon the long table for Herrel to take up or ignore as he saw fit. After that, little time remained for further conversation, because as ever, the Alor was difficult to miss. As far as calls to attention went, the sudden roar of a jetpack more than did the job. A voice capable of projecting even over that roar was similarly a signal that other conversations were on hold.

Haliat, for his part, did not join in with the initial thundering of applause, for his was a quieter devotion than most. He'd had little use throughout his life for either pomp or circumstance, and in truth, he could not really say was developing any personal taste for it now. Instead, he took that moment to reward Cya at last for her patience. Tearing off smaller chunk of meat with his teeth, he let it fall, but it never reached the ground. The Vulpex was faster than gravity, and as she feasted, Haliat pondered.

Her name echoing through eternity…instinctively, the hunger for personal glory that implied set him a bit on edge, but perhaps she had the right of it. Warriors trying to build something lasting, were still warriors. Their legacy would always rest on a foundation of great deeds, works of prowess worthy of song and story. And if they were truly to form the seed of a new and worthier culture, able to stand apart on its own, they would need their own mythology. Their own heroes to rally around. Jenn Kryze had certainly earned as much. And if similar rhetoric had been used in the past to terrible effect…well, he never said his people had been wrong about everything. The good and evil alike had need of their great speeches.

And so, he offered only a nod at the beginning. Jenn's words had also made clear that the point of this speech was not simply to glorify herself. There were friends here, who had aided them in response to neither need, nor obligation. That was very much an occasion for heardy thanks, and so when attention turned to Minerva, he did join in a bit more overtly, drawing his sword to beat its pommel repeatedly against his breastplate. And when their ally made her toast, he drained his own cup in turn.

For the fallen.

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