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Shia looked blankly at Gil for a long second, then quite openly said.
"You're dead." In a tone that implied she was 110% sure he wasn't, but somehow she felt she had to state the blindingly obvious.
"Sorry, that was dumb. Your point is well made, but Mandalore is a place - the Empire is a government - both of them can be taken from us, or can divide us - as is blatantly obvious to half the galaxy. What we're here to talk about is what we can do that's bigger than that, what ideas we can build, what we can engineer that outlasts Empires and Republics alike."
"But taking the points made: I'm not here to speak for the Empire - but if you want to change what the Empire does, you can do that better from the inside than from the out. Connory asked us not to go into politics, so that's all I'll say."
This sort of meeting was long over due for the Mandalorian people. Gray couldn't say when but internal strife had taken over their people and left a wound that refused to heal long ago. Why was it they seemed to keep going back to those fights over and over again? Who knew, but thanks to [member="Connory"] and everyone else gathered here they could at least try to move forward. Hopefully this meeting got them somewhere better. That was what Mandalorians always did after all and why the culture had survived everything that wanted to wipe them out.
The points made were all solid so far. Things were still tense but remaining civil. That was good. This whole meeting was good. It was honestly surprising Gray how behaved everyone was being. Didn't matter though. What mattered right now was that they all said their peace and came to some kind of understanding. And to that end, Gray remained silent to just listen to everyone.
After a bit, Gray finally decided he should say something. " We all come from the Manda and will return to it when we die. The only thing that will ever prevent that from happening is someone making themselves dar'manda. I'm not talking about others declaring you one, as by this point who of us honestly hasn't been called that over one disagreement or another, but rather your own actions making you one. My cousin Jack did that when he abandoned his family, his clan, and his people at Kashyyk. There are others who did the same, but I don't consider any one side during the Civil War to have made themselves dar'manda. They did what they did because they believed it was the best thing for our people. It was why I made the choice to stay neutral in it and focused on healing the injured and protecting our cultural artifacts."
They could say he was talking too much, but Gray wanted them to know where he was coming from first before he got to his point. This whole meeting was about coming to an understanding after all and if they couldn't tell each other their thoughts then how was that going to happen?
" I think the best thing for our people to remember is that we are more than warriors. We are artists, builders, healers, and everything else. The Manda is everything after all so that means our people are as well. Peace should be when we rebuild, recover, and prepare for the next fight. Those of us who aren't fighters or not just fighters should take the fore front during that time. Those of us who are fighters should do as [member="Alkor Centaris"] suggested and take up mercenary and bounty work to keep our skills sharp. Let the galaxy pay us for our practice and grow soft and dull while we stay hard and sharp. Let's support our builders, like [member="Gilamar Skirata"] and [member="Connory"] , so that they can keep us ahead of the curve with our tech. And let our traders like [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] keep the credits and information flowing so that we can hit whoever wants to hit our people first and make the fight on their turf instead of our own."
Gray paused there. He talked. He knew that. But his people's current problem was that they didn't talk to each other enough right now. Maybe if they did it a bit more then he wouldn't have to as much. He smiled to everyone with that gray scarf covered in Mandalorian symbols over his eyes. " So why don't we have a friendly fist fight with each other to beat out the problems, pick each other back up after, share a drink, and then figure out what we need and who it is we need to remind that you don't pick a fight with Mandalorians?" With that he was done. Let them say what they wanted in return. This was as much about seeing what they thought of what each other had to say as it was about saying things after all.
Kista had most listened. She was really careful how she interacted. She had a company to run on Mandalore and people employed by her. Really the focus had been the community. She really did not wish to detour from that as she had fought so hard doing just that. The year for those who was left behind on Mandalore was not easy. They had found ways to live in the new harsh landscape. Then they had to get used to life yet again after the new bio domes were made. She had invested more than just time. She had invested her heart.
“I’m willing to give aid with my creations”, Kista did not bother to stand up and move down to the stage. This meeting seemed a little freer flowing and much like a town hall debate.
“That is if it is a positive way to help promote our people. Yes it maybe on case to case bases”, turning at the hip Kista looked over at Jester of Clan Awaud. It was clear she had something to say directly to the man.
“I would urge caution when using Yuuzhan Vong technology”, she was not upset but she spoke with a little urgency. “I know from personal experience that technology should not be taken lightly. Playing with nature could have some unexpected results. It happened to my parents on Alderaan. It killed my mother, made my father into psychotic monster and left a scar on me forever. Kista was not visibly blemished. It was her genetic code she was speaking of. I’m not saying do not pursue the knowledge you seek. I’m just saying be careful.”
Giving her warning not to under estimate that tech she looked around to the crowd. “When of the things I keep hearing today is food for our people. This is a concern as it takes time to grow food. That is why I have been working on one project. Though for some time I’ve been looking for a consultant. I don’t get off Mandalore often and to my knowledge we don’t have any scientists who specialize in bio engineering food sources. I was hoping to develop a liquid base compound that could be used in a computerized device that could replicate a drink compound that people could drink for nourishment. I think this device would become very useful on starships as it would be easy to store the base compound and these computerized devices would take up little space. Not to mention the space you would save on a ship not having to have a kitchen or a crew to run it. I was hoping if any of you had come across a person who specializes in this area of science. Maybe help me get in contact with them.”
"There won't be any fistfights today if I can help it," said Connory agreeably. "Feel free to get those things out of the way afterward, elsewhere, another time. We're not going to solve the big divides today, and we run the risk of putting too much weight on what we've already accomplished. Harmony's a fragile thing.
"New question, and this is as much to the dedicated warriors as to the tech people. There've been some phenomenal advances in materials science lately, new possibilities opening up. It's now a good deal easier to use Mandalorian iron in connection with roughly two dozen rare substances and technologies. For example, I'm told it's now possible to build beskar armor with a personal cloaking device attached, or take a nanotechnology spin, but the options are so much broader than that. We have the potential to take the mythosaur by the horns on this one and stay at the cutting edge of what's possible. What do you envision? What do you want to build or use? The sky's the limit."
"My personal order is already in with MandalArms for some cloaking beskargam."
She patted the worn, ancient battle armour she wore proudly.
"The 'Flame does her job, but sometimes its better to be neither seen nor heard in our line of work. We're still working on the specifics - likely a stygium matrix rather than any double-blind nonsense. But if anyone - and I do mean anyone - wants to help trial the experimental suits, I figure I could talk some people into making a few rather than one, I'm not that selfish."
She drummed her fingers on her armour.
"But I want to suggest the potential of ionite as an offensive weapon of choice - let others hide behind shields, we'll strip them from them and let their shots rain off solid beskar - or the latest in beskar-hybrid alloys."
Keira had come with her brother, for once agreeing with his decision to remain out of the spotlight. Her helmet sat on one knee, and she was for once mostly relaxed in the presence of other Mandalorians, something that felt like a rarity with the rising tension of late. It was a welcome change to be among those who seemed to - for the most part, at least - wish a prosperous future for their people with as little infighting as possible. After having witnessed her share of civil wars and splinter cells, it was an idea she had no trouble getting behind. In her eyes, it was about time something like this came around.
Thus far she'd sat in silence, listening and occasionally nodding along to what was being said. She agreed with most, if not all, of the opinions put forth, her brother's being the one she stood immediately behind just as soon as he finished speaking. He echoed sentiments she'd held for a long while, and she looked to him once he returned to his seat, "Didn't know you were such a talker, vod'ika. Maybe you should speak more at clan meetings." Typically he was content to let her take the lead when it came to matters such as public speaking, but there were certain topics neither of them could manage to remain quiet about.
When next came the topic of technological advances she remained silent. Certainly there were steps that could be taken to push their people forward and ahead of the rest of the galaxy, but that wasn't her place to speak. After years of relying on Force-imbued technology she was more than content to return to the roots of her people that relied solely on brutality and personal strength, without any additional failsafes other than what came standard. It could be construed as a sort of penance, but after the Force had been stripped from her in its entirety she resolved to learn, in a manner of speaking, how to fight again.
He listened. He nodded, and then he smiled. Some came close to understanding what he felt was on the precipe of actualizing here. Others were woefully short and likely may or may not ever come about to the true thrust in time. Maybe he was one of the former, or the latter. The judgement lay in others wiser than he, and for a moment he kept his own council, face impassive as he nodded to his alor . [member="Entye Shysa"] and he were not exactly on first name basis, but he knew her. And even as much of a near hermit as he was, you didn't wrestle a wookie (and it end in a draw) without certain people hearing tell of it.
They would need to do as the Clan had always done. Bent back to purpose and do the hard work for their people.
The old war hound sat midway up on the stone seats that made for this medievalist forum with his helmet off exposing his war torn features. As Alor to clan Garon he could of claimed front row seats, but this was not a Alor council, it was a council of the people...... and all of equal rank and importance. An aspect Strider respected even though there was some in this arena of talk that could of used killing. It took effort to resist the urge, but resist he did for the purpose of this gathering was for the betterment of the mandalorians as a whole and drawing blood would just continue the same old struggles that the mando'ade have always fallen into. That being their worst enemy was and is themselves.
His eyes would fall on Gilamar and Prelait, noting that the old guard's numbers were dwindling in the ranks. This also was first time he had laid eyes on his old friend Gil, since the civil war where they fought on opposing sides. Time has taken its toll on them all, physically and mentally with countless loss to share amongst them. Then again, old guard or not it seemed strife and struggle was always the way of the mandalorians. Harmony and peace was never in their cards.
Now, they wanted to forebode the talk of politics but how does one talk of bettering and progressing the culture with out talking politics? Such went hand in hand and the old man was going to be heard, his tongue was not going to be held. "Loyalty!" his silence broke with a single word as his deep resonating voice striking into the conversation. "Loyalty to Mand'alor, to Mando'ade and to Manda'yaim! Is what is needed" And who better to talk of such then the one man that has never turned his back on any of the Mand'alors he had served over the decades. He would pause to let the words sink in "It is as simple and as complicated as that. How many time have we spilt our own blood over trivial things as pride and ambition?" He kept his gaze on the forum, though he wanted to drop his head in shame "Countless, i have struck down my share of vode... more then i would like to admit to as my hands are just as bloody as the next. Most of us are guilty one way or another"
Strider took a deep breath, he itched to light a cigar to calm his nervs " I have dreamt and fantasied over a united mandalore, the people working as one. Oh how strong we would of been. The galaxy would of trembled in our wake as we bared our unstoppable might upon empires, republics and confederations as we washed upon them in a tide of beskar that would break them to our will. But....we can't get our heads out of own arses and see beyond our own ideals and ambitions. Grandstanding, pawn moving and the deadly games we play with each other that has always one way or another divided us has always turned such a reachible dream of unity into a blood soaked nightmare. We are headstrong culture of individuals, that don't play well with each other."
"Want us to improve, want us to prosper? Then i ask you all, is it that hard for you to come together and put your loyalty and faith into the Mandalorians that are already rebuilding what we ourselves had destroyed? Is it that hard to put your differences, your gripes and some of your needs to the be Sole Ruler to fall in line and work in unity and togetherness as one? .........AS ONE!? There are some here that i would love to put my blade to and I am certain there are a few here would love to do the same to me. But i am willing to make the step, put that BS to the side if it meant that mandalore would prosper vastly!"
"So if an old dog can learn a new trick or two, maybe there is hope for us all! but only 'as one' "
Bralor was talking when she did so, Roy hadn't been born into the family that was true they had taken him in just as they had taken in Bryce and anyone else who needed a place to go. Talk of technology was being made, and what advancements they could do with or without beskar. It was interesting that was certain Roy caught her up on the details she had missed but when Strider spoke. Betty took a moment to let his words sink in. She recalled when the rule against Force Users had been laid down it was the entire reason why she and Jo decided to uproot their clan and move to Confederate space. They would love, love nothing more than to come back to Concord Dawn, come back to Mandalore and rejoin their people as a whole. But that just wasn't in the cards for them, persecution for having been gifted with the Force and who knows if that would return. Even now, none of the Americus could really set foot on Mandalore with their Force sensitivity.
She wasn't a loud one no she left that to Jo typically, and so she sent him a few notes from the meeting that she had gotten and anything Roy had told her about. Politics, beliefs aside she would love to see a united Mandalorian people. But until this issue of the force/anti-force had been settled there could be no true unity, one cannot sit there and proclaim to want unity while still holding hatred in his heart for those who are gifted with the Force. Gifted by no fault of their own other than simply being born with it.
Seated high up and as far from everyone else as she could get, the voice modulator sounded strange, but it, along with her helmet would keep her identity hidden.
"Preach your demands for loyalty to those who are willing to discuss it, lest you cause a stir. This is as close as your gonna get to anyone working as one for a long while. [member="Connory"] asked us what we envisioned in terms of technology, not politics."
She didn't get up, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees she turned her dark visor away from Strider.
"Personally I'd like to see some advances in nanogene droids. It would make the control of creatures far easier, Vornskr, for example. Could make them more amenable for us without the removal of a weapon and useful aggression."
Strider looked up towards where the voice was coming from, seeing if there was any form of recognition of the speaker. Was hard to pick out from the sea of faceless T-visors and said target's armor coloring and design had not stroke any familiarity in him. "Careful you say......" He broadcasted his voice upwards, like a scatter gun hoping to find its quarrel. "You are right to give such a warning for we are in a den full of snake tongues, turn coats, back stabbers and traitors. Many words can describe the current company we keep, though i wish we could say Vode or mando'ade! I have heard you words and i have heard Connery loud and clear. Technology was not the only subject on the list. Society and ambition unless you were deaf to such?"
His rebuttal was sharp in tongue and unrelenting to give ground to those that would try and hush him. "I speak of loyalty and unity and unfortunately for us it falls under the title of ambitious" He turned his head back to the rest of the forum and then took his seat proper.
Mishka sat in quiet contemplation as the debate continued. Occasionally, sipping her tea, Mishka listened to the words of the middle aged Mando'ad that stood and spoke from his seat, not bothering to take the stage. Mishka turned slightly to look at the man as he spoke, as did most of the crowd. He proposed that they, as a people, focus upon working as mercenaries and privateers. A twitch played at Mishka's eye as she flinched involuntarily at the suggestion. <Selling yourself to serve the will of another is no basis upon which to build a cultural identity.> Mishka thought to herself. She hated the idea of the Mando'ade being reduced to the sum value of the work of their hands. After all, what makes the Mando'ade is the Manda. The oversoul that connects all things and to which all things Mandalorian return to.
But the debate moved on as the middle-aged man took his seat. Eventually a pale, bald woman spoke from her seat, not bothering to stand. She spoke of the mortality of empires, the fragility of worlds, and the immortality of ideas. Mishka liked that. Even if she was encouraging vod to join the Empress, she was also encouraging vod to create and build an idea that was bigger than the Alor's Empire and would outlast it's eventual collapse. Mishka's hands remained in her lap, tea momentarily forgotten as she got sucked into the debate. She turned her head towards the next vod to speak up, an older man whose connection to the Manda was bright and shining, stronger even than her own. The first words out of his mouth were about the Manda, and Mishka couldn't help but to like and agree with the man. But he spoke of peace as if the Mando'ade were in a state of peace, and Mishka pondered the prospect. Were the Mando'ade really at peace? <As a people, maybe. But the Empire certainly isn't at peace> Mishka thought. <The Empire does not know peace. Only conquest. And there can be no peace for the Mando'ade so long as the Empress and those who follow her threaten any who would refuse her constant war at the side of the Sith.>
Mishka had been lost in her thoughts as the debate shifted its focus. It moved on to discussions about Beskar and Beskar'gam. She only half listened as her mind continued to weigh upon the words of the old vod with a strong connection to the Manda. It was something the pale woman said that brought her out of it. Something about ionite and letting others hide behind shields. Mishka couldn't help but to smile at the irony. She spoke of others hiding behind shields, but neglected how readily and obsessively some Mando'ade hid themselves away behind Ysalamiri fields, gladly disconnecting themselves from the Manda for the sake of hiding where the magic of the Dar'jetii or the mind tricks of the Jetii could not reach them. Mishka sighed, only remembering her tea as her hung head brought the cup of it back where her eyes could see it. Mishka took a sip and wondered what could be done about the eagerness of Mando'ade to hid behind Ysalamiri when what they really needed was to strengthen their connection with the Manda, to be at peace with the will of the oversoul.
A new man stood from among the crowd, clad in Beskar'gam and projecting a hologram for all to see. He said his name was Kaine, Alor of Clan Australis. It was a name Mishka had heard before. If not his specifically, but the clan... she had heard of the clan. She watched his presentation as the rest did. Ships and toys, warships and guns. Mishka wasn't a naval enthusiast like her brother and sister. She had been on plenty of ships before, mostly Clan Dem'adas or Mandal Hypernautics warships. The Australis warships looked different to Mishka, but Mishka couldn't really say what about them was different. They looked nice, but she lacked the expertise to tell if they were actually impressive or... just looked the part.
She recognized Manda'yaim when he changed the projection. Mishka saw Mandalore every day. The skies were blue, the air was no longer toxic. Most days, the air was almost the same as it had been before the cataclysm. The grass had returned to the land and the trees that had managed to survive had begun to grow again and once more spread themselves over Manda'yaim. Home felt like home again thanks to the terraforming efforts that had been made. But it was the man's final words that made Mishka shake her head. Turns out, the man was just another who's only benchmark for Mando'ade working together was to judge its value as a tool for conquest. He spoke of those who didn't serve the Empress as if they were somehow holding the Mando'ade back.
Something about the man distracted Mishka though. He was wrong. He felt wrong. Mishka looked at the man, focused upon him in a way that only those blessed by the Manda could, and she felt nothing. Not the sort of nothing that came from Ysalamiri fields and void stones... Mishka could feel his armor, feel the subtle flow of energy coming from its power source... She just... couldn't feel him. He was untouched by the Manda, absent of its light. Concern spread across Mishka's face as she looked at the man with new eyes. One could not truly be Mando'ade without sharing a connection to the oversoul. And yet here he stood, clad in Beskar'gam, Alor of a clan, and trying to be subtle about suggesting the rest of the Mando'ade join him. 'Us', he had said. But Kaine Australis was an abomination, devoid of the Manda's light.
Kaine Australis was Dar'manda.
Mishka had heard of these 'force dead' individuals, but had never encountered one before. She hadn't understood the significance of their affliction before. But now she did. They were a cursed people. Separate from the Manda and forever barred from joining the Oversoul. They were untouched by the Manda, absent of its light. And one cannot be truly Mando'ade, without sharing a connection to the oversoul.
The prospect was truly disturbing to Mishka, but she kept her peace. It was his soul. Let him worry about what happens to it when he dies. <But wasn't the Empress rumored to be force dead as well?> Mishka wondered. If she was the same as this man, then she too was an abomination, apart from the Manda and cursed to never join the Oversoul. <No wonder she can't get the Mando'ade to unify.> Mishka thought to herself. <At her core, she too must be Dar'manda.>
"Loyalty!" Shouted out a battered old vod with a missing eye. Mishka turned herself towards the man that hadn't bothered to stand from his seat. <And now the loyalists, calling on all to bend the knee with barely concealed threats for those who refuse, blaming those who refuse to follow their suicidal death march for the failures of their own ambitions of galactic conquest.> Mishka thought to herself, trying hard to neither laugh nor get angry at the man. He spoke of grandstanding and pawn moving without a shred of appreciation for irony of the statements he made as he did his own grandstanding. He spoke about the Mando'ade being headstrong and individualistic, yet called on all to bend the knee and obey the Empress. Thin veiled threats of hostility barely held at bay by a desire to put a leash on all in attendance...
In the end, Mishka sighed. She was disappointed in the battered old man. Manda bless him, he was a believer. But he believed in blind loyalty for the sake of loyalty. He thought that unity would come from the woman he served. But the Mando'ade do not unite for the sake of a woman. They unite in service to the Manda. They had been united before... They had worked together and the galaxy trembled at the thought of the Mando'ade. The aruetii had left us alone then, and we (for the most part) left them alone as well. There had been peace. And yet, somehow, Mishka felt that if all Mando'ade united under the Empress... there would be only war.
Mishka sat her mug of tea on the slab of stone next to her, clenched her fists, and prepared to stand. Butterflies twisted her stomach in knots at the thought of it. She wasn't one for public speaking and wanted nothing more than to keep her sheb on the stone and her mouth shut. But... What needed to be said needed to be said. And with a burst of courage, Mishka stood. She felt dizzy. She wanted nothing more than to simply sit back down, blush, and pretend she had never stood. But... she forced herself to walk to the front of the amphitheater and take center stage. Already, she was amazed that she hadn't tripped and fallen in the attempt.
"Gai Mishka Larraq." She said after a few awkward moments of staring at the crowd in silent horror. "Ni Naasade. A... ni dinui de Manda. Ni Runi'verd. Ni aalar te Manda o'r ara ibac ori'tsad dar'narir. Ni aalar te to ibac an kebise me'dinuir ti te Manda. Kih'tuur Ni aalar te Kelir be te Manda dinuir'at ner nari'e."
"Vi, sa adate, ru'kir ke'shush mhi bat gotal'ur dralshy'a cuun to ti te Manda bal nar'gayiylir cuun kar'tayl at tsad tion'ad ru'kel mirdir nar'to ti te Manda. Vi ru'kir ke'shush dar'bat akaan bal shukalar bal alore, a bat te tsad runi be te adate." She said, trying not to sound like her stomach was twisting in knots (which it was). "Vi ru'kir olarom te aruetii at to te aliit ibac cuyir te mando'ade sa tsad droten, dar'adol shukalar bal akaan, a adol te haat be te Manda. Bic cuyir meg to an kebise, bal at meg an kebise Mando yaimpar at. Solus dar gotal'ur jahaal at a kadala irud de kotir bal akaanir, a adol kar'tayl bal jahaal'got."
"My name (is) Mishka Larraq. I am nobody. But... I am blessed by the Manda. I am force sensitive. I feel the Manda in a way that most cant. I feel the connection that all things share with the Manda. Some days I even feel the will of the oversoul guide my actions."
"We, as a people, should focus ourselves upon strengthening our connection with the Manda and spreading our beliefs to those who would willingly consider joining with the oversoul. We should focus not on war and conquest and leaders, but on the collective soul of the people. We should welcome the outsider to join the family that is the Mando'ade as a whole, not through conquest and war, but through the truth of the Oversoul... It is what connects all things, and to which all things Mandalorian return to. One does not bring health to a wounded limb by force and violence, but through understanding and nurturing."
"Bal... Ibac cuyir meg Ni mirdir vi ru'kir vaabir sa a adate." Mishka finished somewhat shyly, feeling that surely she had just made a fool of herself. "Par ni... Ni gotal'ur kebise. Ni gotal'ur besbe'trayce bal beskar'gam ibac cuyir guuror mand'bor. Ni gotal ara at duumir nu'amyc adate aalar te Manda te ara ibac runi'verd adate aalar te Manda." She added, trying to explain who she was a bit better, and wanting to show that even she, the nobody that she was, had something that they could do to contribute to the Mando'ade. "Ni ru'lis ret ba'jurir adate tion'ad copad at hibirar... at hibirar at to ti te Manda bal aalar te dinuir'at gaan be te Manda."
"And... That is what I think we should do as a people."
"For me though... I make things. I make weapons and armor that is like magic. I even made a way to let normal people feel the Manda the way that force sensitive people feel the Manda."
"I could maybe teach people who want to learn... to learn to connect with the Manda and feel the guiding hand of the oversoul."
The meeting had gotten somewhere, if a small step but still a step, then the attitudes kicked back in. No surprise even if it wasn't helping things. Mandalorians were a people who embraced emotions after all and they tended to run high. When [member="Strider Garon"] and [member="Kad Har'rangir"] began their little spat after [member="Connory"] , [member="Shia Kryze"] , and [member="Kaine Australis"] had shared some ideas on tech, Gray just sighed a bit to himself. He would have liked it if they could stay on subject for a little longer than this. He figured he could try to do a bit of peace keeping and get it back on track at least.
Turning his attention to the two who had spoken last, Gray said, " She is right Strider. There will be a time and a place for that sort of discussion later. Right now it is about tech and sharing ideas and products with our fellow vode. And you... I don't think you said your name. Would you mind forgiving the old man this time? We Mandalorians are people of passion. No one embraces and accepts emotions like we do, and the older we get the more intense we can become. He just wants to see what is best for our people done, even if it might differ from what others think. How about we agree that our people come first always and work together a bit more?" He smiled in his usual friendly fashion. Agree or disagree, he said what needed to be said. Neither of them was right or wrong here, and that was sort of the point Connery had been trying to make with the meeting in the first place.
Getting back on subject, Gray said, " For tech, I have on offer a mixture of things. Most of it is just standard weaponry and armor from WESTAR right now, but I always sell at cost to vod. From RID, I do have a lot of things that might help us out. My company produced the vast majority of the terraformers and biodomes that helped bring Mandalore back from the brink. I also have water purification systems that helped people with drinking water. They were designed to handle the amount of damage that Mandalore sustained, so we could easily use them other places as well. Also the biodome shields can create a livable atmosphere even in the vacuum of space should you have some oxygen on hand. We could create bases in asteroid fields easily with them. Then there is silicar. It is a polymer-quartz hybrid material. It can handle everything beskar can't. It can't handle a blaster bolt or slug round hitting it because the area of impact is so concentrated. The larger the area hit though the better it can handle the stress, which means the larger the scale the stronger it gets. Think vehicle and especially ship armor. There is countless other uses for it too, and if used properly can even make personal armor better." He decided to stop there. If he went into more examples of how silicar could be used then they would be here all night.
It seemed the gathering between the Mandalorian Clans were not as civil as [member="Connory"] had hope, but no one was attempting to gut, shoot, or even crash a shuttle into another. So all in all, this was probably the most successful gathering of the Clans since the old United Clans. None of them were really willing to work with one another, Clan Awaud itself chose to be neutral for well over a thousand years. Jaster only ever continued that train of though and chose to start a company to make themselves independent of their parent planet. That and Jaster was a Dar'Manda during the Plauge years.
The words spoke by Stider and [member="Mishka Larraq"] had to add to the conversation was rather interesting. Jaster was loyal to Clan and Clan only, Yasha was a customer and friend, but he did not serve her. He did his duty as Alor of his clan and kept to he code of Traditional Values and Upholding the Culture. Mand'alor the Uniter was his ancestor, and since then he was not allowed to bend the knee to any force and stand proud as a Clansmen of Awaud. However, being a researcher of all things Force User, he was interested in seeing another Mandalorian Force User that stood against Yasha. Being an observer was all he was for the time being, otherwise he did not choose sides.
He chose to assist Connory in his attempt to make things civil and chose to continue the talks on Technology of revolutionary in scale. "My company is not a Armor Manufacturer, and though we have been experimenting with Nano-structuring as well as Micro-Weaving strong and resistant compounds for our construction division," Jaster stepped forward from the top back of the Forum. "We have developed a super Nano-Tubing Mesh that can be a good addition to Mandalorian Armor made of Beskar, our latest creation is a substance called Boron-Nitride Nanotube, we mostly use it in construction of our orbital elevator program as well as armor for some of our upcoming ship production, its heat resistance and tensile strength is passable to diamond and up there with Ultrachrome,"
He looked at those who were feuding and continued with his offer, "We have also delved stronger manufactured material, as well as experimenting into Nanostructuring and Nano-Technology, as a sign of our willingness to collaborate with all the Clans to better construct our resources and keep on the cutting edge."
Something her buir had taught her listen then speak. She had entered quietly and sat quietly there was a bit of a squeak in her armor but nothing that couldn't be taken care of quickly. She had feared that this would be another who gets the shiny title meeting but it had been quite controlled, quiet even for mandalorians.
So many faces around her that she did not recognize but they spoke things that she harbored in her heart. Spoke things that gave her bits of hope.
She wanted to help, "My people we will help where we can medical supplies for starters." She had said it without raising her voice. She knew her Clan would help with the companies owned by them. Medical supplies, and ship designs. No one had yet taken on the mantle of weapons she didn't know why. But she offered medical supplies because if this was about helping let them start with saving a few lives or making a few lives better.
"This is loyalty, Hound. This is unity." she spread her arms indicating the rest of the group. "First time a lot of these people have been able to be within a hundred feet of each other without a wrist rocket going off. Take it as a victory, you're not gonna get much better than this."
She sat back and folded her arms. "You're right that technology was not the only topic, it just so happens to be the current one. Keep up, I know its hard for you, ba'buir." She smirked beneath her helmet, sliding her gaze from the old man as he sat down to Gray who was talking, trying to play peacekeeper when it wasn't needed. One day, someone would tell him to shut up.
She opted to just shrug in response, listening to the other proposals of assistance.
"I am making an assumption, based on the fact that many of you who support the Empire are here and showing your tech, that you're companies are willing to open up production to those who are in direct conflict? Not for the purpose of conflict, but simply in the interest of moving us forward as a people. Is this assumption correct?"
"We're digressing," Alkor spoke through his vocabulator now, enhancing the sound of his voice to permeate the area. "Regardless of your political stances, we've already concluded that the focus of this parley is to look forward, to the future of our culture, and discuss the possibilities. Nix the passive aggeesive squabbling and let's focus up."
He leaned back against the broken pillar just behind him and offered up, "my company isn't traditionally Mandalorian, but Balmorran Arms will buy and sell with anyone who is. Our economy is long overdue for a boost, and I'm more than happy to contribute to that. I hope that's the concensus."
His gaze swept across his HUD, identifying everyone who had named themselves thus far, and even a few who had not. He took note of subtlties among the crowd, bioscans indicating increased heartbeat. Knowing the current crowd and culture, there was always a possibility for brawls to erupt, any time, anywhere.
[member="Connory"] had already told them to lock it down.
"The techs on Balmorra have already delved back into the SD series droids. Moving forward, they intend to create more siege engines and war droids, even assassin units. The small arms division is developing more anti-personnel weaponry to give the rest of the galaxy an edge against Force Users."
He glanced to [member="Keira Verd"] and half nodded. His voice lowered back to normal levels, and he spoke. "Sometimes, a body has to do what they have to do."
The wind was flagging the parchment off his knees and Cato jammed his elbow down keeping the unruly paper still. Charcoal stained up his wrist, smudge-marks apparent down his knuckles. He was still situated off from the amphitheatre atop a grassed knoll, shaded by cottonwood, seed-podlings burst and scattered across his robed shoulders. Grass-stains touched his long hakama. Overcast light winked off his idling scabbards.
He redrew the line to Mantis’s jaw, fixed the contour of his nose, and added appropriate shading just under his flexing temple. Sipped from the ceramic cup still waiting on the plate of his knee, addressing handfuls of rough outlines. Cato’d all but screwed his ears shut when Raxis took the floor, knowing it was spittle, meandering between self-righteous exhortations and winded proselytizing. That Kaine was present spoke its own volumes; either hard-bitten cessation or contemptuous arrogance. An alor’ad with enough political acumen to take advantage of Yasha Mantis’ insecurities. Word went he was his own warlord at anchor in Mandalorian space.
Then Garon broke the quiet and Cato saw red. It was richly embroidered oratory aimed at cowing the current topic, bring it under Imperial yoke, remind all that sat where their loyalties, their blood, and their fire supposedly lied. The wind turned and brought scents of rain and cold grit. His hand flexed on his longblade, blade shivering in its scabbard housing. Strider the Halfwit. Strider the Vapid. Sellout bannerman. The most eager and most public bootlicker that dove for Ra’s toes when the standards were raised under the Obsidian Gate. Wanting for crusade. Anything! So long as it distracted from the rot slowly gutting the Mando’ade.
After a beat and a hard-breathing exercise, Cato broke free of scorn. Rolled the parchment, tying away the remaining charcoal in a small hip bag, finishing what was left of the cold tea and leaving pipe ash to join with the wind, rising onto straw sandals. The moot would be respected.
“Kaysh mirsh solus,” He gritted, sauntering off into the wood.
It shouldn't of come as a surprise that the politics regarding Mandalorians was to come about within a discussion that involved someone explicitly stating that this isn't what it's for. Even less of one that it was to come from a disgruntled member of the Mandalorian Empire that preached about loyalty, but perhaps it was their loyalty to their own identity that caused them to depart the Empire. There was no disputing that it had changed significantly from the previous incarnation, and the one before that. It just wasn't Home to some anymore. From Skirata who spent his time with the Outer Rim Coalition, to the Vagabonds that wandered aimlessly, to the dedicated Mercenaries and Bounty Hunters - everyone had their own identity, and whilst some are content with letting old wounds heal others enforce change through more... radical means.
Fortunately, Fett stopped paying attention some time ago. It was once Preliat took a seat beside the standing Bounty Hunter, his gaze shifted in his direction, acknowledging his presence with a nod, but then it travelled elsewhere. Off away, into the area beyond the amphitheatre. The very place that Cato sat, and drew (unbeknown to Koda, it was difficult to tell from where he was standing). Fett's visor simply stared at the man he didn't know, watching, all sound became nothing but background drivel. It hardly mattered, none of it was worth listening to anyways, or so it seemed.
The red surrounding his black visor, the fading lines of yellow along the side, and the dent caused by Ghorua the Shark upon the top left just stared in the direction of Cato. A neutral expression hidden beneath his helmet. His sidecloak blowing in the wind. In time, he took note of the drawing utensil and his assumptions filled in the blanks. Is this truly such a significant moment that it required such a thing? Maybe. It might prove a victory, or a defeat. It all depended on the blood that was spilt.
