Public The Mandalorian Enclave of Nevarro (Mandalorian)

[Jagen Danner]

A few weeks in the vastness of the galaxy was all the man had managed before curiosity got the better of him. He'd known other Mandalorians existed, hell, supposedly thrived, out here amongst the stars. Even glimpsed a few others in one backwater planet or another. He also knew that, as part of his clan on Nar Shaddaa, he was forbade from seeking the others out. Fraternising. Idiots, the elders would say, if they haven't gotten themselves killed yet, they will soon. Absolute secrecy was the order of business back home and it was a contributing factor in Jagen's departure.

So, the young man had to find out for himself if these other Mandalorians were as reckless and suicidal as they'd been made out to be.

The rickety transport vessel's sublight engine whined to a halt as it thudded against one of Nevarro's landing pads. Jolted and bustled, Jagen knew he'd arrived. He scratched at some stubble on his chin and took a moment to ponder. He knew they were around here, somewhere - he just had to find them. Best place to start was always the cantina.

Always.

---

Cantina autodoors were always one of two things: either slick and good, or slow and grinding. All depended on business. In this case, business was slow and grinding. An image of the doors suddenly malfunctioning and chopping Jagen in half flicked through his brain as he stepped through them. He winced slightly. In the afterglow of such a thought, his blue eyes locked onto the familiar armour of a Mandalorian. Times three. Those eyes of his widened.

His gaze then meandered over to the similarly armoured woman perched at the bar. Her armour was slightly different, yet recognisable. She was different. There was a harshness to her, like the jagged edge of obsidian. Jagen found himself staring for a moment before sauntering towards the bar.

He wore no obvious Mandalorian emblems or insignia. Why would he? He was, for all intents and purposes, just another smuggler. Another aimless soul.

Not too far from the truth.

Arno Vizla Aloy Vizsla Justicar Ascenda Darsch Vizsla

 

[Justicar Ascenda]

The one that had yet to remove her helmet waited for a moment after the Armorer had spoken. "My obligations had ended, but my purpose was clear. I took to the stars. When I heard Mandalorians had come here I thought to," the Justicer paused briefly in thought, "remember more of who we are." Consciously she did not think of it, but some part of her had nearly confessed to wanting to remember who she had used to be. "Away from the influence of the outsiders."

Were the Mandalorians better? Were they purer? An example for the galaxy? Ascenda could not say if she had expected to find them meeting such a lofty expectation. The Justicar would not doubt have felt a swell of pride at such a thing, but it was a pragmatic personality. No one was perfect. No one was infallible. It was foolhardy to attempt to be all things to all people, but you could be true to yourself and your ideals. If the Mandralorians were dedicated in such a fashion it would be enough; and she desired to learn this first hand, and not by the ramblings of drunkards.

"Your niece," Darsch, Blue, the one with the blaster, "is fearless and strong. Her companion is wise and observant. The clan is fortunate to count them in their number." The woman's thought to murder Ascenda was not held against her. Grudges only clouded the mind from judging people and cases fairly. If anything, the Justicar might even have approved of her passion even if it might have gotten one or both of them killed.

The doors of the establishment opened and admitted another. A man that had begun to make his way to the bar. Ascenda's vibrant visor shifted slightly to better take stock of the newcomer. Gait, posture, position of the hands, tracking of the eyes... An instantaneous appraisal for threat or intent. In that moment, he seemed inclined to be just another patron.

Tag: Arno Vizla | Darsch Vizsla | Aloy Vizsla | Jagen Danner

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

Wise and observant? "Hahahahah!... no. I just don't like seeing vode fight. Usually, Blue's the observant one" She chuckles.

"Wise though?" Her bug eyed helmet turns to darsch for a moment. "Nah. But I appreciate the compliment all the same"
Then her attention shifted as the doors opened with a familiar hiss. This newcomer was dressed in the clothing of a spacer or smuggler rather than their traditional armour. It would stand to reason that perhaps some didn't wish to draw attention by wearing it, a cowardly decision in her opinion, but a smart one, even she'd never admit it. It was the only explanation she could think of, considering they were underground in the enclave.
She keeps him in site long enough to complete one of many scans her internal systems could produce, checking to see if he was anyone she should know through older employers and contracts. Nothing came up, to her disappointment. With this in mind, she turns back to arno and the others, waiting to see where their conversation ws going.

Justicar Ascenda | Darsch Vizsla | Arno Vizla | Jagen Danner

 

[Darsch Vizsla]

Darsch had removed her blue helmet then set it on the bar counter. Her freckled face was seen once again. She felt shame for doing what she just did. The anger had over took her. It was something she tries to work on but struggles from time to time. When she heard her uncle's voice, her bright green eyes moved to look at the golden armored Vizla. He had asked her something. "I just came to purchase some new weapons and get this one an armor upgrade." She said as she reached into her pocket with a single bar of Beskar marked with the logo of the Sith Empire. It got set down in front of him with a ding. It was just enough to craft maybe a wrist brace or a pauldron. "I reclaimed this from the Sith who murdered my Mother.." She said with a slight bit of sadness. "I decided to gift this one to her.." Her head turned to Joti giving her a warm smile. The hiss of the door was heard as a new arrival had shown up. Everyone here was clad in their armor except for this one. It was a confusing sight since everyone here wore their armor with pride. This one didn't which led Darsch to judge him mentally in a negative way.

Aloy Vizsla | Arno Vizla | Justicar Ascenda | Jagen Danner

 

[Arno Vizla]

He had put his golden helmet back on after finishing his whiskey. "Yeah.. Darsch is one of the best. She was a member of Deathwatch and her mother was a damn supercommando! She comes from the best.." He lets out a raspy chuckle. "I forged her armor heh. She's the one who decided to add all those markings and the fur. I see where she got the inspiration though. At least she's not gold." He laughed again seeming like the uncle who was pretty freaking cool. "Justicar, if Clan Vizla had not been exiled, Mandalore would've been safer but I'm afraid we may be the only ones of our clan who remain." The Armorer says looking over to her niece after hearing a ding. He looks on the counter and saw the dark gray bar of beskar. One of his gloved hands reached over to pick it up. He holds up to his visor and saw the markings. Disgusting, the sith tried to process the beskar yet they failed miserably to attempt to transform it into a powerful set of armor. Those teachings stayed with the Mandalorian people. "Good. That assassin deserves to be filled with blaster holes. No one murders my lovely sister and gets away with it.. She loved you a lot, Darsch." He frowned under his helmet before turning to the sound of the door opening. "This bar is for her?" He asked before paying any attention to the door for a moment. Oh, another new arrival. Wait this one sounded an alarm in his brain. What was a mandalorian without his armor doing here? This also made Arno judge the new one negatively.

Darsch Vizsla \ Aloy Vizsla \ Justicar Ascenda \@Jagen Danner

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

"W-what? Blue! This belongs to you. It was won in combat- I haven't-" She stares at the beskar form a short time. Sure, she could use another pauldron, or repair her greaves after that business on corellia, but she hadn't earned this. not by a long shot..

"Are you sure about this?" There was a hint of doubt in her voice, even with the electrical distortion through her helmet.

"I didn't even-" She sighs. No, she won't mention that. Not here, not yet.

"It'd be wasted on me blue... You could sponsor foundlings, or-or something"

Darsch Vizsla | Justicar Ascenda | Arno Vizla | Jagen Danner

 

[Jagen Danner]

((Didn't realise the cantina was in the MANDALORIAN SEWERS lmao, I'll still roll with it))

Even though their faces were covered by quintessential Mandalorian visors, Jagen could feel their eyes judging him. Suddenly, he realised he was in the belly of the beast. Goosebumps. He perched himself upon a bar stool a couple feet away from the others and ruffled his hair before jerking his chin at the bartender.

"Corellian whiskey," he said, slipping a credit chip across the rough bartop. "Rocks."

As the bartender got to work, he stole a glance at those to his side. One of them had horns on his helmet. Gazing around the room, he also realised he was the only one not sporting their iconic armour. His was probably collecting dust in the Nar Shaddaa enclave, or forged into a new set. Who knew.

He kept to himself for now, sipped the whiskey, and listened. Though, Jagen's eyes did widen at the sight of the beskar. He could count on one hand how many pieces of the fabled metal he'd seen in his life. Three.

Aloy Vizsla Arno Vizla Darsch Vizsla Justicar Ascenda

 

[Justicar Ascenda]

Ascenda gave another look at Darsch as the Armorer touted her lineage. Deathwatch. Supercommando. Now, recently, avenger. Despite the admission of murder, the Justicar did not feel the slightest urge to lay judgment upon the Mandalorian woman. Slaying an assassin was permissible in this Justicar's lawbook. Even if they had not been a genuine assassin, she would expect the death had resulted from ritual combat or perhaps an informal duel. These things were part of the Way, and she would not expect a Sith to decline combat.

"You are skilled at your craft," she replied humbly. It went without saying. An Armorer for an Enclave was always skilled -- they knew the art of smelting and shaping beskar. Nevertheless, a Justicar could admire their work and let them know it was not unnoticed.

With beskar as a topic of conversation, Darsch retrieved a plate and offered it for inspection. Evidently the formerly heated woman sought to gift it to her companion; one that seemed reluctant to accept. It was quite a gift. "Do you trust her judgment?" the Justicar asked, her visor now turned toward Joti. To offer such a thing was not done lightly for any that knew what it was, or what it was worth. Whatever the motivation, the offer was made.

She kept her counsel short in this matter, of course. Being an outsider among family and friends, the Justicar offered a different perspective but would leave matters to those capable of handling it themselves. The unarmored one, however, seemed keen to keep to himself; but he did not become so distracted in his drink that his attention wavered.

Slowly the lit visor turned about to face the man and his drink. For a moment she simply stared. "Your first time. What brings you here?" The way helms had turned, the man's face was not known. His lack of armor was an oddity under the circumstances. Did he seek a replacement? Opportunity? Or was he also looking to reconnect with those like himself again?

Tag: Aloy Vizsla | Arno Vizla | Darsch Vizsla | Jagen Danner

 

[Jagen Danner]

The whiskey rippled in the tumbler as Jagen twitched. He was startled at being addressed, though he quickly realised it was to be expected. When everyone else is conforming, the one who stands out is the nonconformist. Obviously.

He directed his gaze at Ascenda's glowing visor and looked. Really looked. He could almost see the curiosity ebbing from her body language. Probably as curious as he was. With a lazy shrug, he took another sip of the whiskey. It burned. It burned good.

"I dunno," he began. "Curiosity."

Even with the whiskey's help, Jagen's nerves were gnawing at his stomach. Only the pseudo-familiarity of the armour around him kept him from panicking. Still, he was an outsider here. And he knew it. Best to explain a little, life preservation and that.

"I'm from Nar Shaddaa... If the accent wasn't obvious... Doubt you all even know about us there. Or maybe you do. I don't know."

He shrugged again and returned his gaze to the tumbler.

"All I know is..."

Another sip.

"The guys back home think this," he gestured around the room with the glass, "ain't the way."

Justicar Ascenda Darsch Vizsla Arno Vizla Aloy Vizsla

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

"I... Yes. Yeah I trust her judgement" She answers ascenda before muttering "When she ain't about to blast forcies in the enclave"

It wasn't like she didn't want more beskar to replace the durasteel that made up the majority of her armour, In fact the concordian had spent a good portion of her life mining and hauling the precious metal. But she wasn't sure that she deserved it. not anymore. Still, a friend had offered a gift, and she wouldn't refuse.

"Thanks, Blue. It means a lot, I mean that"

Ascenda had turned her attention to the armourless one, who had ordered corellian whisky, which was a good choice in joti's opinion. She listened to them back and forth, distracting her from the emotion in the previous conversation.
What he said though, about "The way", it didn't sit right with her.

"Oh I was on nar-Hold on a second... You mean enclaves out in the rim? The Armour our entire culture is known for? Or do you they just not approve of vode helping their vode?"

Whatever clan he was talking about, they seemed like a real piece of work so far.

Jagen Danner Justicar Ascenda Darsch Vizsla Arno Vizla

 

[The Crafter]

A Kom'rk class fighter/transport exits hyperspace above the barren world. The smooth red accented wings propelling the ship into the atmosphere. The engines trailing a recognizable yellow of Mandalorian technology. It slows its decent as it gives a small colony a pass over and heads to a nearby flat area. The ship spins around as the engines rotate to be vertical, leaving the main body level, facing forwards. A boarding ramp lowers to allow passage at the back of the ship and a man in full Mandalorian armor steps out. His red and blue color scheme clashing on his armor, but seemed to suit him well. Two more Mandalorians follow behind him and they look out at the barren, lava covered, landscape.

"Welcome to Nevarro," Jyn says beneath his helmet and then turns to walk to the settlement.

The three walk through the town's front gates and along the main street. Jyn remembers what the contact had said, 'they lived in the sewers.' He found and his men looked for a more, suitable, entrance to them. They were clearly Mandalorians, with clean Beskar armor, jetpacks, weapons, etc. The men also kept an eye out for anyone who seemed to be an immediate threat or a future one as well. They soon found such an entrance and used their jetpacks to lower themselves into the sewers. Jyn lead them down the tunnels, looking for the rumored Enclave's entrance while looking for Mandalorians possibly acting as guards or on patrol.

Soon the trio had found a locked door tucked away on the side of one of the serwer walls. Crafter stopped in front of it and gave it a once over. He always spoke in Mando'a with his clan and tried using it to announce his presence now, "This looks to be it. If you understand me, then you are a Mandalorian we would like to talk with your Enclave as fellow Mandalorians."

 

[Justicar Ascenda]

The Justicar's visor did not turn from the man's face as he replied of simple reasons for his presence. Curiosity. It was not an answer. Curiosity of what? Whether Mandalorian wore their armor at all times? Whether they took off their helmets? Whether this cantina even existed? Hardly questions worth traveling so far for mere curiosity's sake. Of identity, then? Identifying whether an Armorer remain among their number, perhaps? Yes there were many things one could be curious about, and so 'curiosity' itself was no answer at all. Thankfully, the man had no stopped there. He could save being mysterious for a cute Mandalorian woman (or man); seeing how the Justicar was one of those that did not remove her helmet, she hardly found herself among such number.

Joti felt urged to speak on behalf of Clan and personal belief, which Ascenda listened to as she had Jagen. After she had spoken, the Justicar weighed what had been said being something of a lost, wayward sort from her 'training' among Dark Side using Force Users.

"Nar Shaddaa is a moon of ill-repute, and whose law is dictated solely by the whims of those with the most weapons. I have not traveled there. The Hutts would find little appreciation for my presence." The Justicar would lose herself in the vain attempt at bringing Order to such a cesspit. Better to exterminate the Hutts altogether, and begin purging worlds formerly in their grasp of their stench.

Personal lack of familiarity with the world laid bare, she inquired, "What do the Mandalorians there believe?" If those in the cantina were not of 'The Way' those on Nar Shaddaa believed, Ascenda would learn of what they believed 'The Way' was. As she did not feel it wise to go there in person, she might judge the worth of this belief by those that carried it to the stars. It was a large galaxy.

Tag: Aloy Vizsla | Arno Vizla | Darsch Vizsla | Jagen Danner | The Crafter