Private The Long Trail

[rabidmutt]

---

Somehow, in the most unforgiving of environments, life in the Akellor Forest persisted. The verdant trees retained their color as they bore the full weight of winter. Tiny creatures that typically made their homes on the forest floor called out to one another as they did their best to navigate the dense snow. Fish swam peacefully under the cover of ice thick enough to support the weight of an adult human.

It was funny how different things were the further Roan ventured from Laamyc Morut. Instead of the distant cries of wolves, she heard the occasional birdsong or the soft squeaks of animals she couldn't see. Even the incessant howling of the wind had faded away once she'd left the foothills. The only sound that disrupted the peace this far from the mountains was that of several pounds of snow falling from a high branch that could no longer support the weight.

Roan knew better than to allow her guard to fall in a place so unfamiliar. Despite the tranquility and the beauty of the area, it was still the wild, and while the Akellor Forest may not have been as harsh as the Staghnauk Mountains, there wasn't a doubt in Roan's mind that it could still yield some truly threatening beasts. If she was lucky, maybe she'd get to see one such creature. Until then, she would need to conserve her energy for a potential fight.

As she entered a clearing, she stopped in her tracks and examined the area. A frozen pond occupied the middle of the glade. Large, snowcapped rocks hugged the edges of the water. Mighty conifer trees enclosed the area, and the sun peered over the tops of them to cast its light on the snow and ice below. They shimmered beneath its glow as Roan walked to the pond's edge to take a closer look.

Her hand moved to one of the straps on her rucksack to retrieve her collapsible ice chisel, which she promptly extended and pressed into the ice. With some effort, she was able to cut a decent-sized hole, and she shrugged her pack off of her shoulders to fish for the small pot she used to boil water. Once she found it, she began assembling a small fire, keeping an open ear in the event that she needed to draw her energy bow and take out an approaching threat.

 

[Hakon Fett]

It had been decades since Mandalore had been ravaged and desecrated by the Sith Empire; a catastrophe well before Hakon's birth. Not long after, the Empire fell to the rebellious New Imperial Order, and slowly the planet began to heal. Arduous efforts went into cleansing the Graug infestation and rejuvenating the planet into something more than a strip-mined rock floating in space.

But the scars remained. Perhaps they would never truly heal from the scale of such devastation. To see a tranquil scene such as the Akellor Forest, untouched by the Sith's baneful hand, was an almost delirious sight. Hakon knew few such places still remained: meager dots of verdant ink on a canvas splattered in ash and fire; alcoves of life unspoiled by the Sith's brush of death. After all, to decimate a whole planet was nigh impossible. At least, not through conventional means.

Hakon Fett trod through bales of snow that had formed beside trees unable to sustain the weight of winter over their branches. The winter sun slowly rising over the treetops softened the bite that stubbornly probed the thinner layers of his Mandalorian armor with its cold muzzle. He was long past the point of appreciating the forest's serenity, his face beneath the helmet roughened by his long and taxing search for a supposed cache of beskar.

A false blip on his HUD's integrated scanner foolishly took his attention and Hakon lost caution of his footing. The white rug slipped from underneath his feet and he tumbled on his feet into a slide down a small slope. Like a sledge out of control Hakon jittered left and right helplessly until his armored form skid to an unceremonious halt. A slab of snow from a nearby tree mockingly fell over his shape.

Several dozen feet away a kettle whistled to a boil.

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

On the other side of the icy pond, a young rock ram broke emerged from the brush. Its brown pelt was dusted with a light layer of snow, though it didn't particularly seem to mind. The creature also didn't seem to care that Roan was just across the way. It simply nosed through some snow and began grazing on the remains of whatever plant lay beneath.

Roan simply sat back and watched the bold animal. To kill it now would be too easy. A hunt wasn't even a hunt if it wasn't accomplished with effort. Most of the fun came from the chase, anyway. Besides, she was in the middle of preparing a refill for her waterskin.

Her gaze flitted back and forth between the fire and the rock ram. It wasn't until the sound of a heap of snow hitting the ground carried across the clearing that her attention moved elsewhere. The rock ram immediately fled, crashing through the tree branches in an effort to escape the source of the noise as quickly as possible. Roan did the opposite, rising to her feet and retrieving her bow from her back as she approached the direction the sound had come from.

She wasn't sure what she'd been prepared to see, but it certainly wasn't a hint of a boot peeking out from beneath a heap of snow. Roan moved over cautiously, unsure whether the individual beneath the pile was conscious or not. More importantly, she had no way of knowing if they were friend or foe. Either way, she knew that getting buried in snow could be dangerous, and she stepped forward to nudge the singular boot with one of her own.

"Do you... need help?" She asked.

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

Nudging his boot summoned the muzzle of a blaster pistol and a Mandalorian helm from beneath the coffin of snow. A finger itched on the trigger before the sight of a T-visor staring down on him subdued his instincts.

"No." he lowered his blaster and with a grunt rose back up on his feet, heaps of snow coming down from his armored form before holstering his gun, "Didn't expect finding anyone out here."

Brushing some more snow off his spiked pauldrons, Hakon asked with a slight, curious tilt of his head. "Who are you?"

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

Roan's foot hadn't even found its way back to solid ground when the stranger's buy'ce and blaster suddenly emerged from beneath the heap. As she stared down the barrel of a blaster pistol, she could only think of two things: how ironic it was that the one time she'd chosen to help out someone she didn't know, she found herself on the business end of a firearm, and how disappointed her mother would be when she eventually stumbled upon her corpse.

It was extremely fortunate that the stranger lowered his blaster, then. Roan took a few cautious steps back as she watched him push himself out of the snow. She was grateful that he hadn't shot her, but she was even more grateful that her visor obscured the faint smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth as she watched him brush the snow off of his armor. While his gear suggested he was a Mandalorian just as she was, she was willing to guess that he didn't hail from these parts of Mandalore.

Aruetii... She thought to herself as she looked him up and down.

"Roan," she answered simply. "Of Clan Kir. Who are you?"

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

Kir?

Hakon lofted an eyebrow. The name was all that was familiar to the wayward Fett; a name he had most likely only recognized from the few lessons of Mandalorian lore during his verd'goten many years ago.

He sized her up, head to toes: grey and black accentuated patterns of teal that were not too different in color to the glaciers one might find further north from here. While her buy'ce concealed her facial expressions, every Mandalorian learned out of necessity the language of the body; she seemed equally surprised of his presence here as he was of hers.

"Hakon of clan Fett." he introduced himself as he peered over her shoulder. "Hunting?"

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

Due to the insular nature of Clan Kir, Roan knew exceptionally little about the more prominent clans that called Mandalore home. She knew even less about those that had established names for themselves in the greater galaxy. Fett, however, was a name that she was familiar with.

It belonged to an ancient clan—one that had existed for hundreds upon hundreds of years now. Roan had heard stories of Clan Fett's attempts to rally and unite other Mandalorians, but those tales paled in comparison to those about their prowess as warriors. Having a Fett standing before her was strange in a way she couldn't quite put to words. Like a character from one of the chronicles she'd heard as a child had somehow manifested right in front of her.

"Yes," she answered with a slight nod of her head.

Had the hunt brought Hakon to the mountains as well? Had he tired of hunting beasts that were familiar to him? Was he hoping this corner of the world would present him with game that would challenge him and give him a chase he would never forget? There was only one way to know for certain what had brought him into her neck of the woods.

"And you?" Roan asked, gesturing to the blaster that he'd just aimed at her a short while ago. "Is that also why you're all the way out here?

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

Hakon shook his head as his visor turned back to Roan. "There's supposed to be a cache of beskar bars in the forest. My ship's scanners picked up something around this area, so I landed a klick and a half away from here." he gestured west from where he'd just tumbled down the snow slide.

"You seem like you know this place -- heard anything of a beskar stash buried at some time around the Decimation?"

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

Roan lifted her eyebrows at the mention of a beskar cache. It was hardly any wonder that Hakon had found himself all the way out here. A supply cache that valuable would push even the most cautious Mandalorians to explore the furthest reaches of their homeworld.

Unfortunately for Hakon, Roan hadn't heard of such a thing—but that didn't mean it would be impossible to find. If his ship's scanners had picked up something in the area, they were likely already close. All they needed to do was dedicate a bit of time and energy to searching.

"I haven't heard of any stash," she informed him. "But I may be able to lend a hand. I'm familiar with the area."

It was unusual for a member of Clan Kir to extend their help to a stranger, but the situation Roan had found herself in was unusual to begin with. In all her years living on the mountain, she'd never happened upon any other Mandalorian searching for long-forgotten supply caches. While she couldn't be certain such a cache even existed, she was curious enough about the situation and Hakon to attempt to look for it.

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

With an eye command, Hakon reactivated his helmet's metal sensors and a small, faint blip materialized over his HUD. "Then, let's go, Roan of clan Kir. Scanner's blipping south." he jerked his head in the direction and marched onward after the scanner's guidance.

As they left the clearing, the snowy forest closed in on them. Ancient pine trees beset the winding path through an uneven ground. "Your clan--I've hardly heard of it." he gave Roan a glance. "How come?"

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

There were a few times that Roan had ventured as far south as the very edge of the forest at the foot of the mountains. She was willing to hazard a guess that they wouldn't be going nearly as far as that to find this beskar cache, but it was difficult to know what to expect. There wasn't even a proper way for her to know that searching for these supplies alongside Hakon was a safe choice. For all she knew, he had come to the Staghnauks intending to fight for territory.

Roan had to remind herself that very likely wasn't the case. If he had come seeking a fight, he would've already engaged her in combat. He'd already had the perfect opportunity to put a blaster bolt right through her visor, but he hadn't. That surely spoke for itself, she thought. Even if she couldn't fully silence the paranoia that dwelled in the dark corners of her mind, Hakon's question served as a means to quiet it further.

"Clan Kir is insular," she answered simply. "Our ancestors took up living in the Staghnauks after Mandalorians regained control of the planet. They sought someplace where no one else would ever be able to find them. We have lived that way ever since."

It almost felt surreal to be sharing Clan Kir's history with an outsider. More often than not, the only people they exchanged stories with from outside the clan were allies. Roan couldn't help but wonder if other clans were just as particular as her own, though she supposed she didn't need to quietly ponder about it when she could simply ask.

"Does Clan Fett stick to any particular area? Or are you as spread across the galaxy as the stars?" Roan questioned.

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

"Concord Dawn is our homestead, but we are as wayward as we get." Hakon answered as he leapt over a spring. Me, especially. For as long as Hakon remembered, he'd traversed the stars as a gun-for-hire, quartermaster, and a captain even. The vast expanse of the galaxy had been his calling until most recently when the revelation of the old ways had dawned upon him.

Now, he sought to awaken his people from a slumber; to conquer the stars as their ancestors had done so many eons ago.

The blip on his sensors intensified in color, but it was Roan's earlier words that made him halt and turn to face her. "You've never left the Staghnauks before?" the vocoder of his helmet could not hide the surprise in his voice. "Ever?"

Roan Kir

 

[rabidmutt]

Concord Dawn was familiar to Roan, though she'd never seen it with her own eyes. She knew it was in the Mandalore sector and had a reputation for producing some of the most elite Mandalorian warriors there ever were. It was fascinating to have the opportunity to speak to someone who was born away from Mandalore.

Roan was about to ask more about his clan when he came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face her. She halted immediately, eyes widening slightly behind her helmet's visor. The way that Hakon posed his question suggested that she was the strange one for having never left the Staghnauks or Mandalore.

"Never," she told him. "We're born here, we endure here, and then we die here. Well, most of us, anyway."

It was hard not to think of her brother and how he'd given up on their way of life. In recent time, Clan Kir's traditions only ever served as a cruel reminder of his absence. Roan always found herself hoping that Rett had just snuck off to some other part of Mandalore, but some part of her knew that he had gone much further. She just hoped that wherever he'd gone, it was somewhere he could eventually be found.

"Is that so strange?" Roan asked Hakon as she began walking again.

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

The surprise turned into a bewilderment concealed beneath the buy'ce, but noticeable to any Mandalorian through his slightly downwards pointing chin.

"Yes." Hakon replied in typical, direct Mandalorian fashion. He remained planted on the ground, trailing her with his gaze as she walked onwards before shunting the puzzlement away and falling into step beside her. A hundred questions rained down on his mind almost burying his initial purpose of his quest here.

"Have you never been at least curious of what's out there?" he asked, stepping over a fallen tree.

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

Hakon's refusal to mince words made Roan crack a smile that was, fortunately, concealed by her helmet. She appreciated his honesty, even if she was on the receiving end of it. It was preferable to know the uncomfortable truth than to find comfort in blissful ignorance—though it raised a slew of other questions for her.

What was so strange about remaining someplace that challenged you every day? Was the difficulty of surviving in the Staghnauks minimal compared to other places in the galaxy? Had she been deprived of experiencing true survival by sticking to the same mountains she'd always known? Was that what Rett sought when he left the Clan?

Roan couldn't answer any of them, not even if Hakon hadn't posed a question of his own to her. In any case, she was grateful for it. Talking to him was proving easier than thinking about things far bigger than her.

"Of course I have," she answered easily. "The view from out there, the strange beasts, the endless potential for exploration... I think about it often."

In truth, she'd never expected to speak so candidly about her thoughts. It was a little bit uncomfortable, but Roan found a sort of comfort in the notion that she'd likely never see Hakon again. Once they had gone their separate ways, they would eventually forget each other existed, and the memory of the words they'd shared would melt away like the last snow of winter.

"Does your clan encourage you to see all that you can?" Roan asked.

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

The metal sensor's blip intensified, its color deepening.

"Not explicitly," Hakon replied, drawing the vibroknife from its sheath on his sabaton. He stopped beside a large tree, indistinguishable from the rest of the forest. "But most of us wander the galaxy, taking on honorless jobs as mercs, bounty hunters, and the like."

With an unnecessarily violent swing, he drove the knife into the tree trunk. "Such is the state of our whole people," he muttered, carving a deep, square incision. He wedged his fingers into the crevices and yanked the wooden plate free. His helmet's flashlight flickered to life, illuminating the hollow within the tree. Inside lay a small iron case.

"But I will not die forgotten—a dar'manda." Hakon stated as he picked up the case and slid it open to reveal several bars of Mandalorian iron. They would do good — perhaps another vambrace and a shoulder pad, maybe even some part of his chestplate could be replaced. The forgemaster would say.

Closing the cache shut, he looked back up to Roan, "A few of us took a vow on Hoylin to return to the old ways of glory and honor."

"Each day more and more flock to our rightful cause." he said nothing more, the summon was clear in his words.

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

The answer that Hakon offered was telling. It provided a glimpse of the man behind the buy'ce, of his ideals and beliefs. His desire to explore the galaxy stemmed not from the teachings of his clan, but from his refusal to die forgotten.

Becoming dar'manda was a very real threat for many Mandalorians. It was a fate worse than death, even to those in a clan as far removed from greater society as Clan Kir. In that way, Roan could relate to Hakon's simple desire to continue living in true Mandalorian fashion, regardless of whether they went about it in different ways. She did find herself particularly intrigued by the vow he mentioned, though.

Roan watched him closely as he retrieved the bars from the hidden supply cache. At first blush, she wouldn't have pegged him as the leader type. However, after exchanging a few words, she could certainly identify that he truly believed in what he said. The ability to do as much was always the mark of a promising leader. Her sister had been no different.

"What does that mean to you?" Roan asked him. "The old ways."

Hakon Fett

 

[Hakon Fett]

A long pause. His soulless T-visor stared into Roan and beyond as if seeking to extract the answer from an invisible fabric of reality beyond their grasp. Impossible to describe in words. Speech could not convey what the mind could not comprehend.

Only the soul.

An emotion.

A calling beyond his senses.

"The battle against death... against oblivion." came his reply. Hakon remained silent for several seconds more before he turned heel and began to walk away.

"Sooner or later, the Call of the Crusade will reach you, Roan Kir." he said, his voice fading into the icy breeze as he trudged through the snow. "Your very soul hangs on your answer."

Roan Kir

 

[Roan Kir]

The battle against death was one that Roan was all too familiar with. Every day spent in the Staghnauks was exactly that. They wrestled with their survival, fighting tooth and nail to see the sunrise each morning. Yet, Clan Kir did not fear death. It was their respect for death that urged them to push back against the looming threat of it.

Oblivion, however, was something Roan had not considered. It was a far more abstract concept than death. Many Mandalorians lived in fear of oblivion, even if it manifested differently across every clan. To some, the threat of a legacy lost was more paralyzing than even the most potent venom of the most fearsome beast. Perhaps this was the oblivion that Hakon referred to.

If she had wanted to ask for clarity, the desire vanished when he mentioned that the Call of the Crusade would soon reach her. The Call of the Crusade? She stood like a statue in the cold breeze, watching as the shape of Hakon became further and further away. Her fingers twitched at her sides as she tried to make sense of what he meant. Was she truly meant for more than leading Clan Kir?

It was all too much to know for certain just yet. Today had been strange enough already. A good hunt would help to take her mind off of it. At least, she hoped it would be. So she set off in the opposite direction from Hakon with a bit of urgency in her stride, as if leaving behind the area where they'd interacted would wipe the slate clean in her mind.

Hakon Fett