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Mandalore


Kakuto Ryu

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Kandor raised his eyebrows at the number on the datapad. It was a Golden Link Casino heist amount of credits, larger than the gross domestic product of some small planets and probably the whole Mandalore Sector. It was horrifying to think what Ab'ki and his dar'buir had done to extract these credits from their previous owners, but somehow she'd funded not only her fleet but the huge army of mercenaries that the Mando'ade had just repelled. Credits like these could do a lot to rebuild the Sector, and though they could never replace those that had died in its defense, the net effect of the attack and aftermath could result in it being stronger than it had been in many decades.

 

"Consider the Sector's immediate needs met," he said. "Kandosii, Viscount."

 

He looked around the Ops center and saw that all eyes were on him. "Get me a channel to the clans. We've all worked hard getting the defense of the Sector organized. Let's put that infrastructure to good use," he said.

 

"Aye, Mand'alor," someone answered. "Channel is ready."

 

Fett took a deep breath, standing up straight as he searched for words that would best convey what needed to be said. "Mando'ade, this is Mand'alor. As you have no doubt become aware, the dar'jetii Ab'ki is dead and her army has been defeated due to our combined efforts," he began. "The victory exacted a high price upon the Sector, but now more than ever we must present a united front. We have secured Ab'ki's fleet and her funding, and we will use them to aid in rebuilding. I am reforming the Mandalorian Protectors to aid in these efforts. It will be a mercenary group with the ultimate responsibility of aiding the clans through organizing their defense and accepting jobs from the arue'tiise to fund further growth. If you would like to join, please speak to your clan leaders in the coming days.

 

"For now, take some time to remember those who gave their lives in defense of our people and our home. We will then honor them by making ourselves strong. Mand'alor out."

 

The channel was closed and someone hurried up to him. "Mand'alor, the full tallies from the fleet are in," she said, handing him a datapad.

 

Fett looked over the list. Two dreadnaughts, almost half a dozen frigates, and several Corellian gunships. Most of them were in some need of repair, but critical systems were functional. "I'm going to need someone from MandalMotors up here as soon as possible," he said. A significant percentage of Ab'ki's funds would go to them. There was a lot to do.

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Frond offered a strange planty smile at Xae, "Tree. Nobody Suspects." he kidded, a it of playfulness tickling at the edges of his slow wooded voice for the first time as he allowed Xae to take her brother's hand. Pointing his viney finger at Tros he continued, "Speak. Does not. Respond. Dying sooner. Jedi, The Force, medicine?"

 

Shooting at glance at Bas'lan, he narrowed his eyes to a brief glare. There was something about the man that his companions were not fond of; thus neither was he. Pointing to an empty corner he gutturally growled, "Stand there"

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"Let them handle it," Mirdala implored as she rested her hand on his right arm. "You've done what you needed to here. Let's get your surgery scheduled sooner rather than later."

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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He was mildly annoyed at his wife's persistence in trying to get him out of Ops and into treatment, but Kandor knew she was right. He'd leaned heavily on the minds gathered here throughout the defense of the Sector and he knew they didn't need his direct oversight to begin its reconstruction and defense. Besides, he had to admit he felt like osik. His elbow was his largest injury and the one most demanding of attention, but it was far from the only one he'd sustained in the last few days, and even now they were oozing under his bandages.

 

Kandor nodded to Mirdala. "Alright, you win," he conceded.

 

"We'll find you if we need you," one of the command center staff assured him.

 

----------------------------

 

MandalMotors got to work immediately. Construction began on a Golan III platform directly over Keldabe as well as the one capital ship design they had fully developed -- a Keldabe-class cruiser, an impressive and purely Mandalorian ship. Meanwhile R&D got to work designing new elements that could assist the defense fleet, and MandalMotors started recruiting heavily to help meet the Sector's new demand, putting Ab'ki's credits to use.

 

----------------------------

 

It didn't take long for Kandor and Mirdala to get down to the hospital, and he was soon getting prepped for surgery and some time in a bacta tank. It would take a few treatments over a couple days before he was totally recovered, but it was time that they actually had, which was a welcome change from the frantic pace of their lives the past few weeks.

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Through some very hazy eyes, Tros found himself staring up and tree that appeared to have a face on it. He couldn't tell if he was still in the forest or not. But he knew very well where he was at upon hearing words come out of the trees mouth followed very closely by Xae, his half-sister.

 

"The fierfek!"

 

Tros tried to sit up, but was hit immediately with a strong sensation of pain within his chest. It was then that he remembered getting hit by a sniper. Trying to sit up, but couldn't muster any strength at the moment, he turned himself on his side to see if Xae was really there. He then spotted her blue eyes and auburn hair. He only really caught half of what she had said, about meeting him and the war going badly. He had settled enough to hear the last part though. She found dad. He couldn't tell if she was saying it because she recovered his body off of Coruscant, or some other way.

 

"You found dar'buir?"

 

He then heard the tree speak, saying simply 'Stand there.' It was enough to have him turned his eyes towards the corner of the room. While he wasn't wearing his armor, and no buy'ce to cover his face, Tros knew him. Almost immediately his own blood pressure rose.

 

"Slana'pir!"

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"Calm down!" Xae cried as she forced him to lie back down as the monitors began keening. "Yes, I found our Dad," she began, still not fully grasping Tros's reasons for hating the man so much. His agitation hadn't abated, so Xae leaned toward his ear and whispered in a low warning, "You would be dead now if not for him. I would never have found you. Holding on to your anger is only hurting you so I suggest you drop it until you can at least stand squarely on your own two feet."

 

She leaned away from him but kept her hand on his arm. "I've heard his story. I would now hear your side. You sought me out. Why?"

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Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

PM Mirdala if you'd like a timely response.

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Mirdala visibly relaxed as he agreed to finally put himself on the priority list and stayed with him until they took him back to begin the reconstruction work on his injured arm. He hadn’t been back long before the silence and stillness of waiting caught up with her enough to notice the still-gaping hole left within her empathic connection to the others.

 

It still stole her breath and made her ache down to her very core. She didn’t stop the tears this time, no longer caring enough to try to hold them back. The sector had been won, but the cost had been so great.

 

“It doesn’t get any easier, kid,” Rhys’s gruffer than usual voice interrupted from the waiting room doorway as he crossed the room to sit next to her, his helmet still in his hands. “At least this go-round you’re willing to admit to yourself that you’re hurting, even if it’s not over.”

 

Mirdala gave a short sniffle that might have held an attempt at a laugh, but then the tears fell harder. Rhys knew they weren’t just from the sense of loss she felt around her. Some of them were of relief that the price hadn’t been higher, but most of them were for the losses that she and so many others had sustained all because of the grudge of a single determined Sith.

 

He sat silently with her for a few more minutes while she regained herself before he spoke to the purpose that had brought him here, not as her older brother, but as one of the few remaining Seekers. “I know you’ve felt the call, Mird’ika. You’ve been tested, harder than most, and now it is time for you to take your place with us.”

 

“Now?” she said in disbelief. “Can’t it wait? Kandor’s in surgery.”

 

“I’ve waited as long as I could. The others have their own families to get back to. Kandor’s safe. The sector is safe, thanks in a large part to you. Not bad for a fledgling Seeker.”

 

“I don’t think any of your kind would have expected less from TeVerd’s protege,” Soresh interjected having been passing by while continuing his duties at the hospital and heard the familiar name and voice.

 

Rhys looked at Soresh levelly for a few moments, though from the Omicron’s expression it wasn’t readily apparent if Rhys welcomed the interjection or not. He seemed to be leaving that to Mirdala.

 

Mirdala winced slightly as she looked up at Soresh and the stunning shiner that she’d gifted him during their last exchange. “I don’t want to go,” she started, “but I can’t keep others from their families longer than I already have. I hate to ask this -”

 

“I’ll stay and let you know the moment he’s out,” Soresh promised.

 

Hesitantly, Mirdala stood and looked back toward the doors before disappearing into the night with Rhys.

 

------

 

“Better rig up,” Rhys said as soon as they were a few blocks from the hospital.

 

“Why?” She asked, but Rhys’s look only made her nod and resume the silence between them.

 

They stopped by the Oyubaat, where she dashed up the stairs to the room she shared with Kandor. Her rig was right where she left it, mainly strewn in a few plates here and there across the room since she’d cared little about anything other than finally finding sleep the night before. She nearly missed the nondescript white box and card that had been left on the nightstand; only noticing it when she’d sat to adjust her shin plates.

 

Forgoing the card, she lifted the lid only to see something utterly impractical, black, scant, and lacey nestled inside. Deren!

 

“I’m going to have to kill Viscount…” she groaned, throwing the card in and slamming the lid shut again before tossing the whole thing to the floor where it slid almost neatly under the dresser.

 

Forcing the audacious infomerchant’s wedding gift from her mind, Mirdala finished rigging up and met up with Rhys downstairs.

 

“Something wrong?” he asked, noting her agitation.

 

“I’m starting to regret ever having met some of Viscount’s network,” she groused.

 

Rhys merely nodded and waved her on as they began their hike out of the city and into the forests that had been battle zones just a day before.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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Beneath him Kandor heard the hum as a motor sprung to life and started to drain the bacta from the tank around him. He knew he'd dozed off a few times in the warm healing liquid despite the mild discomfort of the harness and rebreather mask. The pain in his elbow was gone and he found that it was once again flexible, which was a relief. As willing as he had been to tough it out for a while longer, losing the use of a hand even for a short time was a major inconvenience. He didn't like relying on others for the simple tasks he'd tried unsuccessfully to do one handed.

 

As the bacta finished draining, he removed his mask and unsealed the tank's access handle once the light turned green indicating that it was unlocked. He stepped out and grabbed a towel off the table to start drying off. He'd ultimately need a sanisteam to stop smelling like bacta, but it wasn't urgent.

 

It was at that point that he started to notice something was odd. There were a Mandalorian doctors and a couple beskar'ade in the area, but none of them were doing anything. They simply had turned to silently look at him. Unwavering, unblinking, having stopped whatever it was they'd been doing before.

 

Kandor approached the nearest one. "Everything alright, doc?" he asked. But there was no response. He looked around and soon spotted Mirdala making her way towards him from across the room. She looked tired; more worn-out than he could remember seeing her. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brow knit in concern or distress. "Mird'ika? Me'bana?" he asked.

 

She didn't respond, but made her way all the way up to him. She took his hand and placed something within it, closing his fist tight around it. No one else had yet made a sound. "Please," she said quietly. "Don't let go."

 

He looked down and opened his hand. A single braid of black hair lay there, but there was a sudden draft in the room and it fell to the floor.

 

-------------------------

 

Kandor Fett awoke to the sound of a small motor powering a spinning blade that drained the bacta from the tank. He frowned beneath his breath mask. Had he been dreaming, or had it been a Moon Knight vision? Allis Hett had not appeared, but she didn't always.

 

Beyond the transparisteel tank walls, doctors and beskar'ade bustled about with their various tasks and errands. Kandor opened the swinging door, finding his elbow was just a touch stiff but in good shape. He was handed a towel and looked around, noticing Soresh out of his beskar'gam, placing a call on his commlink. Mirdala wasn't in sight but he knew she would return soon from wherever she'd ended up.

 

As he dried off and dressed he puzzled for a moment at the meaning of the black braid from the dream, but to little effect. If it had just been a random dream originating from his own subconscious, it could have no meaning at all, and Moon Knight visions that were predictive didn't often make sense until the moment of their realization was upon him.

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Tros wasn't happy about being restrained slightly, but since he was still very weak and in pain, there was literally no point in him fighting against his sister. He also had to be a bit careful, as without his buy'ce, his facial expression would be far much more readable then what he was used to. Letting a few moment pass by, he slowly laid back down and locked eyes with Xae-Lin, more out of refusing to acknowledge Bas'lan in the room. The red haired man barely moved during all of this, but kept his own eyes very keenly upon both of his surviving children and how they interacted with each other. After what most of seemed like an eternity passed by, Tros felt like he could answer his sister's question she asked him.

 

"I sought you out to see if there was any truth to my findings. Riella had within his own possession a token that Bas'lan carried. When he passed away, the medallion was given to me by Brexton Strol, a family friend. He informed me that Riella had begun to track down pieces of Bas'lan's past and believed that he may have offspring that were dar'manda. After a few weeks went by, I took off the find if there was any truth, as the last of my known bui'tsad was gone. I didn't like the idea of being alone... family wise."

 

It was a very vulnerable moment for Tros. He had never openly expressed himself as openly to anyone who didn't know him for more then ten years. The fact that he was wounded both mentally and physically might have some part to play in that, and it looked like fate was weaving something together now that Bas'lan and his offspring/Tros' half sister were here.

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After hiking for the better part of an hour and carefully keeping watchful eyes for any unsprung traps left by either army, Mirdala saw the dancing lights of a fire in a clearing ahead of them. Something felt off, which made her hesitate a moment as Rhys strode forward, then she felt it in her mind and every fiber of her being.

 

An unfamiliar signature flared brightly to life, and she felt Rhys ramp up his presence within their empathic bond in response. The presence was distinctly different than those she’d come to know as belonging to any of the Omicrons. It flared again, beckoning her forward with a draw that left Mirdala little choice but to stride past Rhys and enter the clearing. “Remove your helmet and approach,” the deep voice bade her.

 

Mirdala did as instructed, trusting Rhys more so than the situation she’d found herself in. Placing her helmet beside her, she knelt near the fire as it crackled and leaped, the brightness obscuring her ability to get a clear view of the source of the other voice on the opposite side. Around the fire, she began to see shimmering shapes shift within the smoke as the night wind blew gently about, stirring the loose hairs that had fallen from her braids. The additional presences she was feeling left little doubt that the wisps she was watching from the corner of her eye could merely be dismissed as a trick of smoke and wind.

 

“Who dares to join our fire?” the voice demanded.

 

“Mirdala, daughter of Jorbe and Cyare Ad’Goran, daughter to TeVerd, wife to Kandor Fett, and Commissioned Constable of the Journeyman Protector Forces,” she formally responded, looking at some unseen point beyond the flames trusting her instincts and empathic bond to track where the voice was coming from.

 

“Who speaks for her?” The presence was circling now, but she maintained her gaze where it had been and continued tracking him mentally.

 

“I will,” Rhys’s familiar voice called after a few short heartbeats. “She was trained from very early childhood by TeVerd in the harnessing of her natural empathic talents. In adulthood, she was tested and found worthy of passing on the Seeker ways on the glaciers of Concord Dawn, witnessed by TeVerd.”

 

The presence was directly behind her now, next to Rhys along the edge of the clearing as he continued, “She has faced and defeated the very Sith who would have burned the Sector to the ground, and the unworthy mongrel taught our ways by the Fallen Tremmel. I speak for her rights as a Seeker through the trial of combat.”

 

“What of the time of seclusion?” the unidentified speaker challenged.

 

Mirdala’s shoulders slumped. Seclusion? With everything that’s gone on, when has there been time? Buir never mentioned it. As usual, Rhys was already a step ahead of her, even as her mind began to race with the implications it might carry.

 

“Her Testing came in the midst of tracking and defeating the very enemies she faced; there was little time to accommodate the requisite period of reflection.”

 

In one smooth motion, Mirdala rose to her feet and turned toward the presence, her eyes taking a bit to adjust to the change in the light. Even then, the other Seeker remained hidden in the shadows. “I am worthy of bearing my father’s legacy. As a Force-sensitive, you know TeVerd would not have allowed the testing or borne witness to it if he didn’t trust me to go down this path.”

 

A quiet chuckle emerged from somewhere in the darkness. “Legacy. Our people are not ones that put much stock in blood, but rather the bond of what makes a family. Legacy does not automatically make you a Seeker.” There was the sound of metal clinking against metal, though it wasn’t the right pitch to have been armor plates crashing against one another. “Sit, Daughter of TeVerd,” he commanded and approached her. “And hold you your hands.”

 

Mirdala hesitated slightly, still not understanding what the reason for all of this was, but ultimately did as she was told in her faith in her brother and in trust of whoever was testing her.

 

“How many of the fourteen that answered TeVerd’s call do you think still fight? Ten?”

 

Mirdala sensed the object falling and caught it in her hand. It was a chest diamond.

 

“Seven?”

 

Another two diamonds fell into her hands with a soft tink in her silence.

 

Five?

 

Rhys came forward and dropped two more into her hands. Rahg and TeVerd. She had to fight hard to keep the tears from coming again.

 

“With all your senses girl tell me how many of that fourteen still live?” The gruff voice demanded.

 

Mirdala was trembling now as she forced back the wave of emotions enough so that she could focus on reaching out to learn the answer demanded of her amid the increasing weight of the bits of armor she now clutched tightly in her hands.

 

Following the ebb and flow of the Force and her empathic bond with the other Seekers as a whole, Mirdala opened herself to the answer as silence fell within the forest glen save for the sizzle and pop of the fire.

 

“Three,” she finally said, including herself in that number.

 

“Two and you,” the questioner corrected. “There may yet be a small handful out there, but that is the Legacy you seek to inherit. A dying one hunted to the brink of extinction by Force Users. Tell me, why do we exist?”

 

“To defend the sector from incursions by Force Users who seek to enslave our people and, in some cases, to defend against Force-sensitives within that pose a threat to the sector.”

 

“You would potentially fit the description of those we hunt, would you not?”

 

Mirdala took a slow and measured breath, but it was impossible to hide the flare of anger that she managed to reign in before it manifested outwardly. “That is not all of who I am.”

 

“Indeed it would seem.” The other Seeker’s tone bespoke interest. He was circling again, and this time, Mirdala followed his movement around the fire with her gaze. Finally, he stopped and the fire between them once more. “Mirdala of Shogun, our traditions are not such that adjustments aren’t made in times of extraordinary circumstance. Take what you’ve been given and sit here in the heart of the sector you seek to protect and reflect. We will stand guard over you so that your gaze might turn inward. There is deep pain there, but much more. Seek.”

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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Soon Kandor had dressed and Soresh approached him, telling him that Mirdala had accompanied Rhys into the woods for "some kind of Seeker thing" and he didn't know when they'd get back. Mirdala had at times seemed apprehensive when it came to Seeker rituals and training, as the related trials involved both self-reflection and judgment at the hands of the ghosts, but Kandor himself knew his wife was more than capable of proving herself.

 

So Mand'alor headed back to the Oyu'baat himself. He checked in at the command center and there was someone from MandalMotors that wanted to speak with him. They were pitching the idea of making a few different versions of the Keldabe-class battleship design using Ab'ki's credits for both R&D and the actual construction of the first warships. Fett approved of the idea. While the ships of aruetiise currently made up the defense fleet, having Mandalorian capital ships to enhance and supplement it going forward would allow them to not only incorporate their cultural sensibilities into their fleet, but speed up production by building things that MandalMotors was already optimized to build rather than trying to emulate the designs of another shipyard.

 

Overall there was not much that needed his attention. Mando'ade were reporting in to join the Protectors, but he had no administration tasks nor would the organization require much from him. The clan structure would be its infrastructure, and if jobs came in they would take them. Ops was starting to send a few people out into the galaxy to start spreading word of the Protectors' existence to governments and organizations that might have need of their services. The jobs could start coming soon.

 

But Kandor had little appetite for mercenary work anymore, he reflected as he returned to their room for a sanisteam. He had to admit it had been difficult in the past few weeks to see past the end of the Shadow War. Any future plans of which he and Mirdala had spoken had up to this point been speculative, mired by the uncertainty of their survival through the conclusion of a conflict which had claimed the lives of so many. That they both yet lived meant they could together begin taking steps into the next chapter of their shared life in earnest.

 

As the rest of the bacta exited through the drain in the sanisteam floor, Kandor once again dressed in civilian clothing but moved toward his buy'ce. He needed to catch up on what was happening across the galaxy. He made it a point to stay informed, but the fighting had kept him away from it for the past few days.

 

"Before you do that, Master, there's something you absolutely must see." The voice came from Flirt, who was hovering over the dresser nearby. "Mistress Ad'Goran came by yesterday to retrieve her armor. She found a gift from a friend which is now under the dresser."

 

He gave the tiny beskar'ad a suspicious look. "And just how did it end up under there?" he asked.

 

"I believe it will speak for itself," she answered with a slight giggle.

 

She wasn't lying. Kandor found the white box under the dresser and, with some amusement, could readily imagine his riduur's irritation at the utterly inappropriate wedding gift inside. The card was unopened, but he knew it must be from that Twi'lek contact of Viscount's that had set them up with fake identities for their mission to Hapes. Even Vy'ika, who was a pro at ruffling Mirdala's feathers, wouldn't go this far. The card was a flamboyant thing of pink and black, and inside was a small data card and a note scrawled in perfect handwriting:

 

  • I'm sure two gorgeous people like you will be able to think of plenty of things to do with some time alone.
    • - Deren

 

Kandor plugged the data card into the room's terminal and found a paid-for, two-week retreat to a luxury resort on Borleias. The sort of place neither he nor Mirdala would ever consider taking themselves. He contemplated the information for a moment, then shrugged and pocketed the data card, then slipped on his buy'ce and asked 2277 to get him up to speed.

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Frond could sense the tension in the air. if he had a knife, he ventured he might be able to cut it. He still was not 100% sure why he was here, short of the force showing him the man lying down before them.

 

Standing back, he listened to the ongoing discussion, or what there was of one as the three sides attempted to come to some sort of understanding. Looking back and forth from his newfound Jedi friend, Xae, who was not making any real attempt to heal the injured Tros, the man he had seen about the Throne of Balance, all while there seemed to be a large level of dislike for the oldest of the humans, Bas'lan, the sire of the younger two; who also did not seem immediately concerned with what Frond could only think was the life draining out of the injured Tros quicker than normal.

 

With a sigh, analogous to the sound of wind sweeping through a hollowed out log in it's low echoing hum, Frond announced his presence, yet again. Apparently, his form had not been enough to draw many queries. "Joyous for you am," he spoke, the disdain for the entire painful reunion apparent in his voice. Pointing at Xae and Bas'lan and then at Tros and his more visible injuries, he continued, "Kin condemn kin. Death. The Force will not." Pausing, he narrowed his eye at the trio of scions of Mandalore. Pointing a knotted finger at Tros, "Time not plenty. Death. coming. through him. Peace made soon." Turning to Xae and Bes'lan he continued, in his longest tirade yet heard since awakening on Kashyyyk, "About Throne. Not. Kin present. Alive. Must kept. Care must. Ignorance more no. Knowledge use. Greatest circumstance. Time. Fleeting. Time. Without. Time. Time. Death. Care not? Save kin?" With that,h e reached out a hand towards Xae and another towards Tros, nodding at Xae to take Bas'lan's hand. "Save. Time."

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The next few days were quiet ones for Mellanie. She spent a good amount of time sleeping--it was amazing how much sleep she suddenly felt she needed. Some of her waking hours were spent in the medical bay. She had been fitted with a robotic arm to replace the one she had lost. It wasn't anything fancy--it didn't even have synthflesh covering it--but it worked. She figured she could make it pretty later if she wanted, especially since she was pretty sure her mother would foot the cost, but it wasn't a priority for her.

 

Most of the Vevuts had already left Keldabe and returned to the farm. Mellanie was eager to get out there, to start putting her life together, but for now, she was helping clean up the streets. It was tiring work, but there was visible progress, and she appreciated that.

 

The rest of her time she spent getting used to her new arm, spending time with her sister and Jaesko, talking with Araac, and catching up on events in the larger galaxy. She had been really sad to learn that her father had been pushed out of office, but she was glad it had been a peaceful transition. The new GA leadership was full of people she didn't know. She had commed her father and talked with him about it, and he seemed to be taking his demotion fairly well. "Gives me more time to live my life outside of work," he had said. She had wanted to invite him to visit, but both of them knew that wouldn't be a good idea. For now, the Mandalore sector was locked down pretty tight, and if Mellanie wanted to see him, she'd have to go to him.

 

She also talked to her mother. Zara was relieved they were both alright. She kept dropping hints about Mellanie coming home, but Mellanie ignored them. Eventually, her mother would realize that Mellanie was home.

 

That was one definitive outcome of the war for her. She felt like she really was Mandalorian. It was her identity now, fully, and she embraced it as her clan had embraced her. All that was left was for her to find her niche in the society.

 

One night, she and Araac were discussing that very topic over dinner. "I just am not sure I want to invest my time fully on the farm," Araac was saying. "I want to have a home there, but not necessarily be a full-time farmer."

 

"I agree," she replied. "Having a share of the clan farm would be enough. That would free us to do other things."

 

He nodded. There was a pause, then he spoke again. "Mel, have you heard that Mand'alor is reforming the Protectors? What do you think about that?"

 

"I did hear. I've actually been thinking about that a lot," she admitted. "It kind of sounds like a good balance. Working out in the galaxy for the welfare and benefit of our people."

 

He met her eyes. "Should we join?"

 

"Is it that easy?" she countered.

 

He shrugged. "I'll mention it to Rhar. Let's see what he thinks."

 

She smiled. "Honestly, as long as we can do it together, anything sounds good to me."

 

He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Slipping on his buy'ce, he headed out the door.

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Daughter of Sabian Devanus and Zara Nargal

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“‘Dar’Manda’?” Xae echoed as her mind worked to piece together the translation. “No longer a Mandalorian?”

 

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Tro’solus,” she began gently, “I’ve never been a Mandalorian. You know what I am. And I’m afraid I don’t remember much of your language from my time together with a Mandalorian called Joreel Ordo, so I’m not quite sure I was able to follow all of that.”

 

Her eyes met his, and she could recognize the fact he was opening up to her and admitting something she wouldn’t have expected most Mandalorians to openly admit. “Joreel left me to lead your people and I haven’t heard from him since.” Xae still wasn’t quite able to hide the pain of the admission from her eyes. Tros had opened up with her; she was more than willing to respond in kind.

 

All in all, though, it was a very clinical description of what had once ignited a passion deep inside her very being, but one that had been tempered as she’d begun to find herself left for one reason or another. When Joreel had ultimately left the Order, Xae had done her best to let her feelings go with him. It was easier said than done, especially when so many reminders of him would still crop up.

 

Maybe part of her had been willing to come to Mandalore in the hopes that she might run into him, or at least hear of his fate. Darex had hinted that there might be some larger form of resolution or closure to the situation, but perhaps the Force had other plans in mind.

 

Frond’s interjections, as well as his presence at this most awkward of reunions, confirmed her second theory.

 

“Of course I care, Frond. Even if they weren’t ‘kin’ I would care,” she looked from Tros to Bas’lan, to Frond and back again. “I don’t know how to save him. Kriff. I’m an Exorcist, not a healer.”

 

Despite her correction, the viney hand remained held toward her, insistent. She could feel the Force beginning to surge around them as she began to understand and extended her hand toward her father and took Frond’s as well.

 

Maybe I can exorcise the demons that plague this family. Trevelian indicated that there was a measure of peace to be found here.

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Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

PM Mirdala if you'd like a timely response.

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Bas'lan listened very intently upon the conversation taking place and showed a great deal of his own by keeping this own anger flares down. Tro’solus had been hurt by choices made by everyone around him, and he was just as bad as the rest who made such choices without a single regard to how it would effect him. He kept his head down for a moment as Xae responded to both her brother and the tree thing. It was then that he jumped in and spoke.

 

"Tro’solus was hit by a sniper riffle in his lungs. By now, death isn't going to take him... Unless you are referring to something completely different. He needs time to just recover. Although... I do have more bad news for him. The Orar was destroyed. You are shipless for the moment. But do not let that despair you, I have put in a special order for a new ship for you. Consider it an investment in your life for all of the things I missed out on..."

 

Tros kept his eyes on Xae, until he heard the Tree respond, to which Xae called him Frond. Even as his Bas'lan spoke, Tros kept his own eyes upon the tree looking creature named Frond.

 

"Can you all please stop calling me that. I'm Tros. I haven't used the name Tro’solus in over two decades...."

 

He then took his eyes off of everyone and instead turned it to a screen that was showing an advertisement for the Red Dawn needing people. If he was able to recover well enough to not be under such pain for walking, he would have to see what sort of jobs they could give to him. He needed the credits. He then turned back to Bas'lan after a long pause.

 

"Is bribery your new angle? - I'm sorry. I'll do my best to hold my tongue and thoughts checked in the presence of Xae-Lin and Frond. Maybe I should keep myself from talking by asking you a question that would require a long answer. How the fierfek do you know the details of my injuries and the loss of my ship?"

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The Mandalorian sun was high in the sky by the time Mirdala opened her eyes for the final time. Rhys had insisted she take periodic breaks for food and water, no doubt under Nek’s orders once the doctor had called to check in and learned what Mirdala was up to.

 

Without her visor to cut the glare, the light seemed much brighter than normal and she held her hand up to shade her eyes. She didn’t know what the seasons were like on Keldabe, but the ordeal had left her chilled to the bone. Unlike her meditations within the Force and usual connection to the shared empathic stream which left her feeling clear-minded and energized, all she felt was exhausted and raw.

 

“You are tired, and that is good,” the unfamiliar voice from the previous night spoke up, drawing her attention to a black-furred being with eyes the color of icicles, who sat under a tree, watching her intently. “It means little was left unexplored. Your core is why you fight. Lose your core, lose your battle with the monster within.”

 

Gathering her helmet, Mirdala stiffly rose to her feet and turned to address him, but he held up a hand to still her.

 

“What you saw and experienced is for you alone. Keep the armor as a reminder. Go now and walk among us Legacy Bearer.” Donning his helmet, he shouldered his pike and left the grove.

 

Mirdala started after him, but her legs hadn’t quite gotten the feeling back in them yet and she faltered.

 

“Whoa! Slow down Vod’ika,” Rhys called, catching her as her legs gave out and holding her steady until she waved him off. “Graceful as a newborn acklay, I see,” he teased, undeterred by the dark look the comment earned him.

 

“Just fill me in on what I missed while I was deep-diving and stop channeling Verdeyuii. It doesn’t suit you,” Mirdala grumbled.

 

“You know,” Rhys began as he led her to the waiting speeder, “for someone who’s finally achieved the thing they wanted most for so long, you really are grumpy. You really are more like him than you realize.”

 

“I just want the sector safe,” she quietly sighed as he took off toward the road to Keldabe.

 

----

 

The chill stayed with Mirdala as she entered the room she and Kandor had been staying in at the Oyu’baat. Seeing him whole again, brought a look of relief to her face that included almost a ghost of a smile.

 

“How’d your bacta go?” she asked as she crossed the room and began removing her armor. “Learn anything interesting while I was gone?”

 

It was a lame attempt at conversation, but all she had within her at that moment.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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A lot had been happening in the greater galaxy. Vladimir Faust had turned up again. Kandor didn't know how his old enemy had survived his encounter with the jetiise Starlisk and Trevelian on Triple Zero, nor how the galaxy continued to persist given that. He'd witnessed first hand over Kuat just how powerful the mass murderer had become, and his power had only grown up until his defeat at the Memorial. Something had to be different this time around. One thing was clear, however -- Faust's presence was a threat to them all and could not be disregarded.

 

He was reading about a dar'jetii fleet over Kashyyyk when his riduur entered the room. He removed his buy'ce and got up to greet her, immediately noticing how tired she looked. She walked in on unsteady legs, her normally-olive skin was pallid, and there were dark circles under weary eyes, their brilliant jade color dulled. As she began to shed her plates, she set a stack of multi-colored beskar chest diamonds on the dresser with a metallic clatter. Once again he wondered at just how hard she was willing to push herself, all while he'd been dozing off in a bacta tank.

 

Kandor approached Mirdala and held out his left arm, rotating his palm face up to demonstrate the limb's restored flexibility. "Never been better," he said, but he gave her a concerned look. "You, however, look like you've been through haran."

 

He drew close to her and took her hand for a moment, studying her. She was cold to the touch. He eyed the chest diamonds. "You passed your test, though," he intuited, looking back at her. "Their legacy is safe with you."

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“In a way, I have, cyar’ika,” she admitted, still not having fully shaken the night’s ordeal. “But I am a full Seeker now, so there’s that.” She finished removing the rest of her armor before pulling him closer and taking a moment in the warmth of his embrace to be thankful that they’d both made it through.

 

She didn’t need to tell him that his faith in her was a major reason she was standing here with him now. She didn’t have to tell him, despite the unrest in her soul, she knew things would somehow turn out okay because he was there to fight alongside her. He was what had brought her back from losing herself in the fight with Ab’ki.

 

Fate may have taken her parents from her, but it had also put Kandor in her path.

 

It was unusual not to feel the coolness of his beskar as she rested her head against his chest, but she found she didn’t mind the change in the least. It seemed that she’d changed him as much as he’d become her anchor point.

 

Lingering in his arms a few moment longer, the ghostly chill that had claimed her finally begin to lift. Reaching up, she pulled him closer for a kiss before drawing back after a few moments and sighing. There was one last bit of business that she’d put off long enough.

 

Buir’s remembrance is tonight,” her voice was quiet and the words came reluctantly. There were several moments of silence as she took a couple of deep breaths before managing the rest of it. “Rhys says we have to burn his body to prevent -,” her voice broke slightly and tears formed at the edges of her eyes, “- anyone from harvesting his DNA to try to engineer more hybrids.” Putting the words out into the open like that only served to make it more real than she could handle in the moment.

 

Brushing past him she sat on the edge of the bed and drew her knees to her chest before her legs gave out from under her. Since before their return to Mandalore, she’d done all she could to keep the reality of her father’s death at bay. It all still seemed so surreal, yet there was the gaping hole in her psyche where his presence had once been.

 

She felt utterly defeated and wondered when and if they’d ever be able to catch a break.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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Mando'ade did not typically burn their dead but instead buried them, often in unmarked graves. But from what Kandor knew of the Omicrons, they were extremely protective of the Ageless genome and considered what the Old Republic had done to create them during the Clone Wars something that could under no circumstances be repeated by any organization or government. He didn't quite understand it, given that to his knowledge TeVerd had willingly donated genetic material for the cause and then trained them as one of Jango Fett's cuy'val dar, but there was no way they were going to back down on this. Not even for Mirdala.

 

He sat down on the bed next to his wife and swept an lock of raven hair, displaced by her buy'ce, behind her ear. Maybe they did need to get away from this for a while. While the Sector would always be yaim to her on some level, just now it was all graveyards and hospitals. He decided to pitch the idea to her soon. They'd barely had a moment of quiet since they'd gotten married.

 

Kandor crawled to the top of the bed and lay down, gesturing for her to join him. "Come on, we can afford a few hours of rest before the memorial," he said. "It'll do us both some good."

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((Co-written.))

 

It hadn’t taken her long to fall asleep in his arms. She’d only paused long enough to wrap her half of the blanket around her before settling against him and was almost immediately unconscious, drained completely from the events over the last week, months, and even years.

 

It wasn’t until her subconscious began to register familiar signatures in the empathic stream that she stirred, waking Kandor with her. Grabbing a quick shower, she changed into a simple black shirt and pants, leaving her waist-length hair loose. The rest and shower had brought the color back to her cheeks and had chased away the final remnants of the chill that had plagued her. Even in her sadness, she felt a strange sense of renewal.

 

For so long she hadn’t let herself dare think about what life might look like once and if the Shadow War had ended. The plans she’d discussed with Kandor had been little more than diversions and wishful thinking. Now, their life was theirs to make of it what they would. Walking into the unknown with him was both thrilling and more than a little daunting for her after having been through so much both with him and on her own.

 

She just had to get through tonight.

 

Digging deeply in her go-bag she found the small canisters of facepaint she was looking for and retreated into the refresher to use the small mirror. She emerged several minutes later, her work complete.

 

Three marks fell from the middle of her forehead in white, the middle one slightly longer than the other two. On either cheek a thin crimson line ran slightly longer than the width of either eye and beneath them a series of five small black circles on each side spaced closely with the red line.

 

“You don’t have many traditions of your own,” she began quietly watching him, “do you?”

 

“I try to establish good habits, but I wouldn’t call them traditions,” Kandor answered. He was still in civilian clothes from earlier, his beskar’gam in need of work before he would wear it again. He examined her face markings. “Don’t think you’ve ever told me about these.”

 

Despite herself, a slight blush emerged from under her painted cheeks. “It’s kind of a Shogunite thing,” she admitted, not surprised that he wasn’t readily familiar considering that until recently he’d never set foot on her homeworld, let alone been invited to share the hearth and traditions that were native to that planet.

 

“The white marks are for mourning, one for each of my parents,” she continued, “and the red line is because he was my father and represents our bond and the color is because he died in battle. The five black circles are for the five stages of life - infancy, childhood, adulthood, senility, and the Manda. I think there’s an extra one because a lot of the markings are based on what others saw in the Ageless of the world when they went to war. The Ageless live longer and the fourth dot’s meaning has changed over time to align with the human stages. I know you’ve seen Taen’s spots, and maybe even Rhys’s or Vy’ika’s. It’s just become part of the shared cultural memory of Shogun.”

 

He nodded in understanding. “Many cultures honor the departed in similar ways.”

 

She stepped closer to him, and took his hand. “Do you want me to do some for you? You don’t have to keep wearing them if you don’t want to, but if you wanted, just for the remembrance…” She trailed off letting the offer hang in the air before quickly adding, “It’s totally up to you though. I know it can be odd to adopt another’s tradition without knowing why or the meaning behind it.”

 

Sensing he might need a moment to process the request, she let go of his hand and moved to straighten the bed. Even though they knew each other well, she found it awkward to broach subjects she knew he’d find impractical. He also had his own sense of honor and propriety and she knew that her offer might clash with that as well, so she simply gave him the space to weigh the decision.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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((Co-written.))

 

After a moment of consideration he spoke. “Mhi solus tome,” he said. “If you think it’s appropriate, I will wear them.”

 

Mirdala let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She would have understood if he’d declined, but the fact he was open to wearing the markings brought a measure of peace to her heart that she sorely needed more than she’d realized.

 

Returning to her bag to retrieve the paint, she gestured for him to take a seat on the edge of the bed so she could actually reach his face to apply the colored paint.

 

In the center of his forehead, she started with a black, upside down triangle, then extended the downward lines slightly beyond where they met at the point before adding two straight lines down from the other two points. “The black is for victory, your aggression, and strength. It echoes your primary armor color choice of justice,” she explained while she worked. “The symbol is for brotherhood, but when worn in context with mine also means ‘husband’.”

 

Instead of red, his lines were blue for the confidence he had in her and the shared wisdom they’d gained from each other and their time with TeVerd. The same two sets of five black circles were added beneath his blue line, matching hers. She explained all of this to him, and stepped back awash in gratitude for his willingness and the fact he still stood beside her. “Vor entye. This means more to me than you know.”

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((Co-Written))

 

As she and Kandor made their way back to the glen used for her induction rites, Mirdala could sense the expected presences of Rhys, Vy’ika, and Nek, but she also sensed Rhys’s adult sons and daughter as well as Viscount and her empathically bonded sandhound Vi’ika. At least he’ll be surrounded by the family he brought together, Mirdala thought to herself as she and Kandor approached the edge of the glen as the great black hound trotted up to her having finished her vigil over TeVerd’s body.

 

Mirdala held back from entering the circle with the rest of the aliit, even as a pair of familiar figures met them in the darkness.

 

“Are you sure about witnessing something like this again, Mird’ika?” Soresh offered gently, knowing that she’d had to watch as her own mother was burned alive, trapped within the family’s home by a band of mercenaries hired to learn of her whereabouts when she was only fourteen.

 

“I’m fine,” she answered coolly. "I came to watch knowing what my brothers were doing. Didn’t say I wanted a front-row seat. And one more thing - Delavvo, you try to tell me what I think again and I’ll give you a matched set, Me’copaani?” she warned through clenched teeth as she kept her eyes on the preparations before her.

 

“I’m already pissed off this is even necessary,” she growled before turning her attention to the blue-skinned Twi’lek that came from the fire to join them.

 

Briia sneered slightly in Soresh’s direction the expression made all the more derisive the patch she now bore over one of her eyes and the nasty scar running diagonally across her face. The three of them had trained together as the Journeyman Protectors, but Briia had never really come to like Mirdala’s former training partner. “I know, Mird’ika,” she said quietly as she embraced her long-time friend. “Good to see you again, Fett.”

 

“And you, Briia,” he replied. It felt like ages since they’d hunted Jurgen Bialle from Vorpa’ya to Nar Shaddaa for the murder of Daennan Morveth. He glanced over at the others gathered around the fire. “Keeping Aliise out of trouble?”

 

“I married him, though, I'm not sure if that counts,” she admitted, drawing back from Mirdala. “Who's to say I'm not the one getting him into it?”

 

“It sometimes seems to work that way,” he lamented, winking at his wife.

 

“What Kandor isn’t saying is that we’ve gotten married since the last time we were all together,” Mirdala intoned, crossing her arms against the night’s chill.

 

“Weddings and War tend to go hand in hand,” Briia agreed. “Reminds you what really matters, and what’s at stake.”

 

Mirdala nodded and settled against a tree to watch the others prepare TeVerd’s pyre, once more falling into silence.

 

----

 

"Okay, so are we ready to do this? Walk away now, or keep quiet," Rhys growled, looking around at those assembled both near the pyre and just at the edges of the glen.

 

His brothers - Viscount, Nek, and Vy’ika - simply stared at him grim-faced, while his daughter, Ravika, was red-eyed and tight-lipped, but valiantly trying to hold herself together. Her brothers - Aliise, Pren, and Thire - were only slightly more calm looking.

 

His heart ached for his children more than his brothers and sister. They had only just begun to know TeVerd as a living person, not the near-mythical warrior he knew he often described his former sergeant as.

 

It was hard not to, he admitted to himself. Even with the man's flaws, TeVerd had lived and fought the way one expected of a holo-drama character.

 

Taking the collective silence for an answer, he turned and faced the wood bier and all that rested on it. Saluting, he quickly set the pile on fire.

 

"Until the next war, Sarge," he said quietly.

 

He wasn't aware he had started crying until he felt his brother's hand squeeze his shoulder.

 

He felt a howl escape his lips, expressing all the loss of an age. And he was joined by the others, one long moment of vocalized pain.

 

------

 

As soon as the pyre had lit Mirdala had to turn away as the fire combined with the smell that drifted back towards them flooded her consciousness with the horrible memories of her parents’ deaths. She’d thought she was prepared or at least had steeled herself enough to bear witness to her father’s funeral. She wanted to run, but she all she could manage was turning her back to the fire so she didn’t have to watch any more than she’d seen.

 

They both jumped as the others let out a howl that made the hairs on the back of Kandor's neck stand on end.

 

Mirdala didn’t join the others, but instead clasped her hands over her ears and sunk to a kneeling crouch, as though she was trying to will away all that was going on around her as though it were nothing more than a bad dream.

 

Kandor, having been standing solemnly by, knelt beside her and placed a steady hand on her trembling shoulder, but knew there was little else he could do, unable to ease her empathic pain.

 

She leaned into him, even as Vi’ika came up to lick the tears from her face.

 

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la, Buir.

 

 

Me’copaani - Would you like one?

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la, Buir. - You're not gone, dad, merely marching far away.

 

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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That evening Fett and Mirdala returned to their room thoroughly worn out.

 

Following the conclusion of TeVerd's remembrance, they'd returned with the aliit to the Oyu'baat, where they had eaten together. Many of them Kandor had already worked with -- Rhys, Vy'ika, and Viscount closely over the last few months getting where they were now. Nek had always been there to patch them up afterwards. Briia he'd worked with when doing jobs for Taen on Concord Dawn, and there he'd also briefly met her new riduur and Rhys' son Aliise, who was another Omicron but younger than the others, as well as Pren and Pren's wife. Rhys' other ade -- Ravika and Thire -- he was meeting for the first time. They were all adults around Kandor's age or a bit older, and judging from their appearance they were Rhys' biological children with a riduur now long departed, mostly human with just a touch of Ageless that made them all tall with sturdy frames. Ravika also had a husband, but any children they had weren't present.

 

Thankfully even without his buy'ce, 2277 had access to his implant and could help him keep track of the additional new names. He had known that Rhys had a family and was glad to explore a little bit more of his new extended aliit -- the other side of things that weren't the Ad'Norts, who were recovering now back on Concord Dawn.

 

As usual, of course, it took a lot out of him and he was all too happy to head back upstairs and crash with his wife. There were still a challenging few days ahead, but the meal had been a good reminder of their support structure, and Fett was hopeful for the time coming when they were again strong and able to together look ahead.

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They were greeted the next morning with several requests for meetings, or, at least Kandor was.

 

Even with the tantalizing promise of an R&D session with the engineers at MandalMotors to go over a new ship design, Mirdala found she had no desire to do little else other than remain alone in their room. "You go ahead," she urged when he’d offered to stay with her. "I've got Vi'ika and we've got our implants. I'll be fine. I just need some time alone right now."

 

And so it was that, at her urging, he left to attend to the requests and she was left with the quiet of her thoughts and emotions. Vi’ika sat with her while she numbly stared out of the window, simply just allowing the pain of TeVerd’s passing to wash through her, no longer running from the reality of his demise.

 

An hour passed, then two more, before Vi’ika decided to rise and retrieve Kandor’s chest plate, in an effort to nudge her partner into doing something more than just sit in the pain. Mirdala accepted the armor piece from the hound, looking at the spider-webbed scorch marks Ab’ki’s lightning had left in the paint, as well as the blaster scar that marred the opposite side from the one she’d left. Her fingers ran over what should have been a smooth surface, finding the dent where Fieyr’s blade had nicked Kandor’s chest diamond.

 

The scars he so proudly bore on his armor told the tale of his survival.

 

She’d come so close to losing him as well.

 

But I didn’t. And Buir wouldn’t want me to repeat his mistakes by continuing to dwell on the losses instead of what’s right in front of me.

 

The seeds of resolution began to take root in her soul, but she knew it would be a long road ahead. She had to take the first step. Clutching the armor, she rose and began examining the other pieces and set about what work she could accomplish.

 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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They didn't stay in Keldabe long. The next day, they were headed back to the Vevut farm. It was good to be back. The farm had escaped unscathed, and the family was relieved to be reunited.

 

One night, she and Araac went for a long walk. They talked long about the future, about their plans, about each other. In the end, they came to the same little hill that overlooked their new house. Araac put an arm around her waist and drew her close. "Mellanie, there's no reason to wait anymore, right?"

 

She looked deep into his eyes. "No," she said, not hesitating. "I love you, Araac, and while the future is unpredictable, that's one thing that I know will never change."

 

She took a deep breath. "Mhi solus tome," she began.

 

"Mhi solus dar’tome," he continued.

 

"Mhi me’dinui an." Her heart swelled.

 

"Mhi ba’juri verde," he finished.

 

Leaning forward, she kissed her new husband. After a few minutes, she pulled back, flushed. "Mom is going to freak," she chuckled. "Come on, we'd better go spread the news."

 

--

No one was at all surprised, but everyone was happy. There was some ribbing and teasing, but Mellanie was so happy, she took it with a good humor.

 

Zara and Brina were also thrilled for her. But, as she expected, her mother insisted on throwing them a big reception at the Kat Nargal Memorial Resort. They worked it out that they'd have it in ten days; Mellanie was determined to have a honeymoon, and they were going to spend some time on the beaches of Chandrila first. Kalyani was of course coming, but she'd need to find a way off-world; the couple was taking the Mynock.

There was little to be done to prepare to leave. The vacation was booked, and their things were packed quickly. The Mynock was still in the city, so after saying their farewells, the two headed back into town, having arranged to meet Kalyani at the Oyu'baat before leaving the sector.

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Daughter of Sabian Devanus and Zara Nargal

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“Please don’t feel you’ve got to be civil to one another on my account,” Xae remarked, releasing Frond’s “hand” and looking at her half-brother and father once again. “And I go by Xae.”

 

Still feeling the pull of the Force around them, she placed her hand on Tros’s shoulder and allowed it to flow through her and into him, provided he was willing. Though she wasn’t a healer, she trusted in the Force’s will and power to benefit her brother’s recovery.

 

“Too many people speak formalities and riddles and too few say what’s on their hearts. It’s all to plain that there is a lot of anger and hurt on either side. We were brought together for a reason, and that could very well be to figure out ways past the hurt we’ve caused each other. I may be your little sister, but I’m also a big girl who can handle more than a heated argument between family members.”

 

“Besides,” she turned to look at Bas’lan, with a mischievous smile, “He and I already had it out.”

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Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

PM Mirdala if you'd like a timely response.

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Tros turned and looked at Xae as she put her hand upon his shoulder. He was able to tell that she was doing something, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. His own attention turned towards Bas'lan though, as he spoke.

 

"Verd'ika, such information is irrelevant to you anyways. Your sister is right. This meeting didn't happen by chance. Whatever anger that has risen between us during those days are not worth fighting about now. You hate me because I joined Kyr'tsad, a choice that I made, one that proved to be my slight undoing. But I do not regret it. Out of that choice came Xae here. And in time, you will find that my decision wasn't all that wrong."

 

Tros glared at Bas'lan for a quick second before shrugging it all off. He didn't bother to make the fight, as there was some truth in the past was not worth fighting over. Feeling a surge of strength, Tros swung his body to sit at the edge of his bed.

 

"While this whole conversation is nuhunla, I'd much rather not argue with life choices. You are right Bas'lan, your path gave you what you needed. In turn, it gave me what I needed most. I have no clue what it gave Xae, outside of a desire to follow those Di'kutla jetii ways. We're one big happy family with a bunch of problems, just like the rest of the galaxy."

 

It was then that he pushed Xae's hand off of his shoulder and stood up, taking off the chords and other things that were attached to himself.

 

"But since our problems are in the past, why don't we find new ways to piss each other off. I'll start."

 

Tros picked up his comlink and sent a message inquiring about the jobs that Red Dawn was offering.

 

"I'm taking a job and leaving planet. I haven't had credits come in for a while, and I spent most of what I had tracking Xae down. So unless someone has something else to say...."

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An almost immediate reply comes flying into Tros’s Comm Link from the Red Dawn Initiative.

 

“Why yes, we would be very interested in hiring you, or anyone from your clan to assist us in a few jobs. Are you interested in single job contracts, a retainer, or one of our exclusive long term contracts? And also for a limited time the more people you recruit, the more you make!”

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((Next several posts written by committee.))

 

Keldabe was looking better. There was still rubble in the streets, but the majority had been cleared away, and now most of the focus was on rebuilding what had been destroyed. The Mandalorians, ever practical, had wasted no time, and were mostly just rebuilding things the same way they used to be.

 

For Mellanie, it was a comforting sight. Times were hard now, but they would be normal again. Sunshine always followed the clouds, and the sun rose anew after each long night. Glancing to her right, she let a small smile cross her face, hidden beneath her buy’ce. If there was anyone or anything that reminded her that there was hope for life to be good and normal again, it was Araac.

 

They entered the tap caf, and Mellanie scanned the room. She knew of the place mostly from legends. Apparently it was akin to the Mandalorian seat of government, a fact that amused her greatly. It certainly was vastly different than the offices of the head of state of the Galactic Alliance. But she appreciated what it said about the Mandalorians, and to her, it was just right.

 

She and Araac spotted Kalyani at the bar, and wove their way through the tables over to where she was standing. “Hey,” Mellanie said, greeting her half-sister with a one-armed hug. She ordered an ale and removed her helmet, tucking it under her arm. “Did you find a ride? Are you just going to meet us at the KNMR? By the way,” she added softly, “Araac and I talked it over, and we wanted you to know: you'll always have a room in our home if you want it.”

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Daughter of Sabian Devanus and Zara Nargal

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Kalyani returned her sisters hug and when Mel and Araac made their offer she grinned. “Haven't found a ride yet but I’m sure I can with someone. I had been thinking of hanging round for a bit. Jaesko and I were giving them a hand fixing up the school.” The young woman shook her head though there was admiration in her eyes, “Those kids are so resilient. They’ve lost friends but they keep going.” Over the course of the battle she had felt her sisters new family accept her as well. She was actually feeling like she could belong here too and that felt good. It was so great to be planetside rather than living life in the space stations, even though they were luxurious. “If I can’t get a ride I guess I can always ask Mum to send someone to pick me up.” While she knew that Zara wanted her to work for the Link, Kaly wanted some independence. The Mandalorian way of life was appealing to her.

 

Zara and Aunt Brina had been shocked at their appearance when the girls had contacted them after the battle was well and truly over. Mellanie’s missing arm was cause for the most concern though Kalyani’s injuries worried them too. Kaly flexed her arm again, testing her range of movement. She had received further treatment and her wounds were healing well - she just had to behave herself and not overdo it. While she had been helping Jaesko work on the school, the latter had fussed when she thought Kaly was doing too much. Where she could Kalyani tapped the Force to lift some of the rubble out of the way though was very careful not to be seen doing it. She hadn’t seen much of Mellanie and Araac after they had announced they had married. She was thrilled for them and laughed - and backpedaled - when Mellanie said she had to tell their Mother, raising her hands as she’d said, “You’re on your own with that one Sis.” Zara and Aunt Brina had taken the news surprisingly well.

 

Bringing her thoughts back to the present her smile widened as she looked at her sister and brother-in-law, “You know what Mum’s going to ask when we get back to the KNMR don’t you…” her voice held a teasing note and her eyes sparkled. Zara wanted grandkids and now that Mellanie and Araac were married… Kaly couldn’t help but laugh at the resigned look on her sisters face.

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