Wheeling and Dealing

[Laira Darkhold]

Tucked away in the Juran Mountains, just below the snow line in spring, was the Mandalorian Enclave on Alderaan. It wasn’t very large, just under eighty families living in the village and the surrounding forests, most of them staying in mildly modernized log houses, vheh’yaim style buildings, surrounding the village center. The village center contained a few permanent buildings, such as the Longhouse were the Jarl and the elders stayed, where they gathered for feasts and meetings. The armory, the blacksmith, mechanics shops, those were situated in the village center as well.

To the naked eye it didn’t look very dangerous, or all that defendable, but it was tucked away in the mountains, difficult to reach on foot. It had a handful of Anti-Air weapons and a squadron or so of starfighters were there in hangars or sheds out of sight. There weren’t any easy ways into the village and it was tough, with each house able to operate as a pillbox if necessary.

Laira knew where everything was, having spent many winters in this exact same village during her childhood. Her shuttle passed over it once, gently rocking its wings in salute to the Jarl and the Ancient who resided in the longhouse. “Land in that clearing there. They like to make visitors walk through the village.” It wasn’t intimidation, but rather it would allow visitors to see the hardened mountain people who chose to live in the cold, to struggle with their crops, to be surrounded by dangerous wild-life and killik nests on all sides. To see how simply they lived and appreciate the rustic nature of life in the Clan.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rach groaned, his bones stiff and aching after years of misuse and mistreatment as his joints popped. With one arthritic hand he pulled on his first boot with a sigh. For some reason he would never fully understand, he had suggested this lifestyle to Draco decades ago, at the time believing he would die sooner rather than later. Now in his seventies, Rach was responsible for the Clan more than ever.

Draco had left him in charge, only answering more important matters of the Clan’s welfare, just as he had left ArmaTech to Marcus years before that. The boy had has heart set on settling down with that princess and had pretty much succeeded. If he hadn’t have provided to the people so well and left a structure that could survive without his constant leadership, Rach would have pushed him out of power years ago. Instead Rach was stuck dealing with the day to day issues that arose at the enclave.

Today was no different. Alderaan Engineering, one of Draco’s in-law’s brain-children was seeking to sell seed, foodstuffs, and Ithorian bacta to the Clan and wanted to discuss the contract in person. Under normal circumstances Rach would have deferred to Draco, however the Alor had proclaimed he could not as it was a conflict of interest for him. The second boot was pulled into place, the cold feeling miserable for Rach’s poor joints as a warrior knocked on his door.

“They’ve arrived.”
“I’m coming, don’t worry about it.” He grumbled standing before reaching for his heavy fur coat.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The shuttle landed outside the village, Laira and her aide, a blond girl named Sera, descended the ramp and made their way through the perimeter. It wasn’t much, just proximity sensors, pressure detectors, that sort of thing to keep people from trying to sneak up on them. Laira was wearing her normal trousers, boots, and shirt all kept beneath a large coat with fur lining. She had to stifle a laugh as Sera struggled to walk through the forest underbrush in her flats, pine needles slipping beneath her with every step, having to hold up her skirt to keep it out of the small puddles, dew soaked grass, and muddy soil. “I told you to dress for the outdoors.”

“I am dressed for the outdoors, I just didn’t know you meant dress like we are going camping!” Sera retorted. She was a bit older than Laira, in her twenties already though she was hilarious sheltered compared to Laira, having expected to be a Princess’s aid and instead landed a part time job while Laira mostly kept to herself.

“Hardly. You wore a dress to the enclave; you’ll stick out worse than me, and I’m wearing a white fur coat.” Laira laughed as they walked into the outskirts of the village, some of the young men watching them with appreciation, some people scowling as they saw outsiders until they recognized the redhead. Some of them smiled and waved at her, people she knew from her times spent in the village.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rach made his way onto the porch of the longhouse standing in the doorway beside the Jarl, Volgrim the Titan, and the other elders of the enclave, the old men and women too old to fight and work full time. Often the elders stayed on the porch, smoking swapping stories, only venturing into the fields or woods when it suited them. Rach was the same way now, having finally gotten to sit back and relax after years of fighting. Part of him greatly appreciated the rest, even though he had never taken the time to settle down with a family, he still preferred not sitting on a ship sending young people to their untimely end.

“Who did they, oh.” He trailed off, realizing Laira was walking down the road followed by some dressed up gal. The redhead was impossible to miss, white trousers and boots, matching fur coat, blazing red hair framing her features. Laira was a solid mix between her mother and father, having Faith’s fashion sense and looks combined with Draco’s sense of functionality and combat instincts. No wonder Draco had refused to make such an agreement, it would be akin to handing his daughter Clan money. Not that Rach’s job was any easier though. He had seen her grow up from an infant off and on, and it was still the Alor’s child.

“Oya, Lair’ika.” He called as she approached waving a hand at her and stepping off to one side of the door just a hair. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

 

[Laira Darkhold]

“UNCLE RACH!” Laira’s excited yell echoed off the mountains in the distance as the redheaded princess raced up the wooden stairs to hug the old man waiting at the top. Her arms wrapped around him and hugged him tightly for a second, as memories of hunting trips and whittling on the porch flooded back into her mind.

“Oh, father didn’t tell me who I would be meeting with either. He’s trying his best to stay out of the Crown’s corporation. You know how he is, always worried it’s going to look like he’s there to take over or dispose someone. Mother is doing very well, she was with me when I bought this coat. She has good taste doesn’t she?” Laira gave the men on the porch a little spin, showing off the white coat with white fur trim front and back while Sera caught up to her, stepping carefully up the wooden planks that made up the stairs.

“Come on, lets get inside.” Volgrim’s deep growl drew her attention back to the task at hand. As happy as the princess was to get to see old friends she hadn’t seen in a long time, she was not on Alderaan to stay for long and the sooner she handled the business she had been asked to, the sooner she would be able to go back to the deep black of space again.
“Yes, its so cold out for spring.”

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rach stepped out of the young redhead’s way, letting her and her aide walk through the doors first, arching his eyebrows at the blonde wearing a dress wondering why anyone would do such a thing this far up in the mountains. “Always good to hear from you Lair’ika. I’m glad your parents are well.” He kept in touch with Draco well enough, but he rarely heard from Faith being of different minds, and Rach hadn’t exactly been the most supportive of Draco’s subordinates when their marriage was announced.

The old man shrugged his shoulders and followed the women through, followed in turn by the massive mountain of a man that was Jarl Volgrim, the leader of the Enclave and the warlord who had fought as Draco’s sub-commander for years before the Alor retired. Now the big man was one of the few Jarls that lead the people of Clan Vereen through peacetime and raiding season.

“What was it you were here for? I know I’ve been told, but its always good to hear it again the day of.” Rach asked as they made their way to one of the long wooden tables, Volgrim taking a seat at the head of the table, Rach to his right, Laira and Sera to his left.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira found her seat, smiling widely at Rach and giving the elderly Volgrim a nod of respect. They knew her well, and she had known them for as long as she could remember, grew up with them in living here, teaching her alongside her father. She also knew how personal Rach had taken it when she had decided not to take on a Verd’gotten and instead follow her own path for the time being. “Alderaan Engineering is attempting to expand its sale of relief crops and seed to the people of Clan Vereen. I’m aware there isn’t always a need for emergency grain for the vod.”

The people of Clan Vereen were stingy and kept to themselves for the most part. The Skald of a kindred would decide what crops he would grow and how much of each every planting season, and if he gambled and lost, it was up to him to ensure they either raided other planets for the supplies his people needed, or had enough in storage. Sometimes they would go through bad winters or harvest and whole kindreds would be left hungry. Perhaps they could use a bit of a safety net. “Sera actually has some figures here.”

“Oh, yes. Our study shows that one out of four kindred undergoes a food shortage every other year and numerous have consistent complaints about difficulty planting. What Alderaan Engineering can provide is a supply of our Emergency Harvest which are capable of being grown in harsher environments, and off season, though the yeild is much less than normal.” The blonde woman opened an envelope with numerous pieces of flimsi depicting figures, analysis of data collected, the works for her and Laira’s presentation.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

“I don’t need to see figures to answer this.” Rach said, waving off the papers, swiping them away with his hand. “I don’t even need to know if that data is accurate. Even if it is, we don’t want that distributed to our kindred in bulk.” That was exactly the kind of thing Clan Vereen had shied away from in their exodus from Mandalore. Exactly the kind of luxury they didn’t need or want to have. They chose the hard life because it made them hard, because it was difficult and life wasn’t supposed to be easy. They believed that if they struggled and worked hard, and taught those values to their children, the future generations would be stronger than ever. This was something they could not accept.

Volgrim chimed in. “I would be mighty disappointed in any Skald that chose to rely on these emergency harvest crops. It completely negates the purpose of our way of life, the goals we seek to achieve. We do not live in castles and cities because we don’t want that luxury. We cannot then go buy it when things are difficult.”

Rach eyed the blonde who seemed very disappointed with the conversation, as though she had wasted her time figuring up the numbers and even bothering to come to this meeting. Laira on the other hand had kept her composure very well.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The redhead’s smile widened a little and she delicately placed her hands on the table. She knew better than to try and flirt her way through this meeting, neither of the men were interested and both would take it as an insult or entrapment more so. They weren’t twenty something year olds she could convince to buy a sweater in summertime for full cost. “I’m well aware of how Clan Vereen operates.”

“Are you?” Volgrim pipped up from his chair at the head of the table. “Last I checked you spent more time in a palace and a fancy school than here at the enclave.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to how Clan Veren is. Tell me, what would my father do to a Jarl that had a famine? One that cost lives.” Laira measured her tone carefully, brushing red hair behind her ears.

“He removes them from their position, strips them down to einherjer and finds a replacement. Its happened before.” Volgrim had seen it done, though it was notably rare. After the first time most of the other Jarls simply pay out of pocket for just enough food to sustain their kindred.

“So in severe shortages, the Jarls pay for food right? Normally they pay arm and a leg cost to buy from other Jarls and get humiliated at the same time. I just want to be the one they buy from when that happens. Maybe save some face in the process. I also know that the Unblooded don't live like that, that they have a city of their own that swears loyalty to the clan, but operates under itself. I know that when they don't get enough supplies, the Jarls have to donate to them to keep their ships in working order. I can relieve that pressure from the Jarls, take the extra dependents off their shoulders.”

 

[Laira Darkhold]

“I see where you are going with this. There is a reason we have operated like this for years, on this system, but I see where you are going.” Rach grumbled quietly as he stood up from the chair. “I don’t want to build a safety net for my people. We don’t need one, we don’t like one. Not having it makes our leader’s smarter and our people more reliable.”

Volgrim’s chair screeched as the massive man sat backwards listening to Rach speak. “Clan Vereen will sign a contract for your supplies to the unblooded on Murgo. They aren’t our people, they don’t call themselves True Mandalorians, so even if they are bound by our laws, their nature will never be the same as ours.” Considering Unblooded made up the majority of the fleet, Rach new them better than most, and considering they were loyal to the clan despite being as close to second class citizens as Draco would allow, it would benefit them to have access to cheap and easy supplies. Also having them buy from Alderaan Engineering would keep the Jarls from having to scrounge and donate the city its foodstuffs.

”I will also sign an agreement that when the Jarls go shopping for supplies they should at minimum get a quote from Alderaan Engineering at the time, but I will not have them hoarding cheap or donated supplies from anyone.” He said the word donated like it was offensive, worse than calling a roughian a Nerf-herder or a woman a schutta.

He patted Laira on the back. “It is good to see you though. Come on, lets get some meat on the pit and tell me about being a spacer.”