Fate of the Clans [MANDO ONLY]

[Vencu]

Primary Magazine, Ammunition Storage, Level Ad'eta, Taung-class Star Dreadnought Mandokar, Somewhere on the fringes of the Trilon Sector, Wild Space

Corden stood just below a raised platform, eyeing the Mandalorians congregating before him. The long, wide chamber they now occupied had been designed for ammunition storage, but those stores had long since been emptied and distributed throughout the fleet. Distance made the far end of the chamber barely visible and were it not for the smooth durasteel-reinforced permacrete that made up the walls, deck, and ceiling, Corden could see how the place could be mistaken for a cool, dimly lit cave. Other than the CIC, this was one of the safest, most secure places aboard the Mandokar. It had been designed that way out of neccessity, but now it served another purpose entirely. It had become a gathering place and a safe haven; neutral territory for leaders on both sides of the civil war. Several hundred leaders had answered Corden's call. If need be, the corridor could hold hundreds more.

After the battle of Fenris and the numerous skirmishes that had followed, the Separatist war machine had been poised to strike at a number of key Loyalist strongholds simultaneously. The heart of Loyalist resistance, Roon, had been among those worlds targeted for a swift, merciless assault. Corden had issued a ceasefire only three days prior to that campaign and within the first standard hour, Separatist forces had abruptly withdrawn from combat operations across numerous theaters. Entire battle groups floated silently above war-torn worlds and along key hyperspace lanes. They waited to hear if the war would continue or if peace between the Clans had indeed been brokered. Now that leaders from both sides had finally arrived and assembled here, the fate of the Mandalorian Clans, be they divided or united as one, would be decided.

"Oya!" Someone nearby shouted above the din of unfamiliar voices, calling for the gathering to begin. A hundred other voices echoed the call before the chamber finally fell silent.

Corden gazed out over the sea of armor as he addressed the Loyalists in the crowd, "Ner vode... You're fighting someone else's war now. It began because of the actions and beliefs of a select few... they claimed to speak for you. Some Mando'ade followed them blindly. Others questioned them from the sidelines. Few stood up to them as I did. Now, as I feared, they've left you to fight their war for the same reasons I've always despised them. They are cowards. They are weak and corrupt. That's why we find ourselves fighting eachother, because some of us got tired of it... and that's why we've gone to such extremes in recent months, because those select few were tarnishing what it meant to be Mandalorian. We couldn't stand for it."

Corden continued without pause, his speech gradually building in tempo as he gained momentum. He could already see helmeted heads nodding in agreement, but most remained transfixed.

"None of you began this war. None of you chose it. You inherited it from poor leadership. Leadership that led you astray. Leadership that betrayed your trust... Now I'm asking that you rise above their legacy. Cast off the shackles they've bound to you and your clans. Let us become a united people once more... Let us learn from this war and reforge ourselves into a stronger, more resilient people... Let us revive our reputation as the galaxy's finest warriors! Let us be united in cause and spirit! What differences remain we will settle in due course, but not through in-fighting. We must be strong! We must have unity! Join me, ner vode... let me lead our people into a new era!"

Corden paused for a moment, eyes still sweeping across the crowd as he allowed his words to sink in.

"I am Mand'alor te Vencuyan. The Sustainer. The Preserver. The Protector. I will not lead you astray. I will not betray you. I will uphold our traditions, our legacy, and our honor... Together we will forge a brighter future for all our people. Never will we become the slaves or puppets of aruetiise. We will forge our own destiny. This I swear to you."

 

[Tokuhara]

Drrel raises his fist in honor of Mand'alor Vencu

"All hail Mand'alor Vencu: The true Mand'alor!"

Drrel could be called a "fanatic" to some, but he saw himself as a patriot for those who saved him from his cursed lineage. Though nowhere near the power and skill of Mand'alor, he saw himself in the same as he sees his own blasters: tools, weapons for the hand of Mand'alor. He was a brother to those who stood at his left and right as much as an assembly line of rifles are brothers.

 

[Crim]

Words of a traitor. Eire had once respected Vencu, but all respect for him was lost after his defection. She didn't fight out of blind loyalty, but out of what she thought was right. She wanted to stay quiet, but that was difficult. After a bad series of events, she was the highest ranking member of Clan Skirata. Whether she liked it or not, she was representing her clan. Now, several Loyalists were following the new Mandalore. She looked at Herroth and noticed the same amount of contempt in his eyes. Eire's squad stood with her in their armor.

As people cheered at the new Mandalore, Eire sighed. She quietly said to Herroth, "So this is how honor ends. With thunderous applause."

 

[Dmitri]

From his station, Verde Tracyn took in all of the stimulation. The visual presentation of Corden Vencu. Audio recording of the speech. All of the Machina's data was secretly being transmitted to the New Sith Imperium by hijacking a Mandalorian communique, hiding the message. Even if cracked, it would not lead back to ADIM's Machina.

If Verde was truly human, he would have felt joy or thrill. Instead, he watched with cold calamity.

 

[Matty]

The newly minted Traat'ab Al'verde stood to the left and slightly behind his Mand'alor. Duraan's face held a wide smile. He held his white beskar helmet loosely under his right arm as he waited for his Mand'alor to speak. The freshly pained yellow stripes on his white beskar armor gleamed in the artificial light of the Mandokar's ammunition storage facility. Duraan took in a deep breath and exhaled. His smile widen until it was touching ear to ear. The Mandalorian Civil War had been a brief conflict but a conflict none the less. Brutal as it was, the Civil War had pitted brother against brother, sister against sister in a conflict that never should have been realized. The Civil War had left the Mandalorians not weaker but completely unqualified to call themselves Mandalorians. The conflict was about ideals of what a true Mandalorian should be and Duraan knew that unless the two sides reconciled their differences, that ideal would lost forever. As soon as Corden's lips parted to begin his speech, Duraan was instantly enthralled. He stood at Corden's side from the very beginning to the conflict until its soon to be announced end. Duraan had both spilt and shed blood for his Mand'alor and his ideals. Duraan knew he did so out of respect for the man he called brother but more so because it was right. Corden had not only been there when the ARC was first reawakened, Corden was the man who gave him work He gave him a home but most importantly, Corden gave him a purpose. Corden had re-instilled the fiery passion he once held for the Mandalorian people. A passion that Duraan thought to be lost. As Corden spoke, the ARC scanned the crowd with an icy emerald stare. He knew that no sane person would make an attempt on the Mand'alor's life but few in the crowd still flaunted the colors of the once powerful Mandalorian loyalists. The majority proudly wore Corden's colors alongside their own.

"Long live Mand'alor te Vencuyan!" Duraan shouted as Corden's speak ended "Long live the Mandalorians!"

As soon as Corden's speak died off, Duraan felt his suspicions go along with it. There were no more Mandalorian Separatists or Mandalorian Loyalists; just Mandalorians. Duraan shouted his shout once more and raised a gauntleted fist into the air. He thumped his right hand across his chest plate three times and shouted for a final time. He turned away from the crowd and began to give a series of friendly taps to the Mandalorians around him. He slapped one on the shoulder, gave a female Mandalorian a slight kiss on the cheek and a third a playful punch in the chest. Nearly overcome with joy, Duraan turned back towards his Mand'alor. He reached out and clasped Corden's arm at the elbow, just like he did so many years ago. Duraan's normally hard stare softened instantly and gave the man before him a wide smile and a slap on the shoulder

"Thank you Mand'alor" He said "You've given us purpose once again"

 

[Apollyon]

A'den nodded at Drrel's word with approval, he placed his hand on his Aliit brother's shoulder. He was newly minted Ruusa'lor the highest ranking in Aliit Vhett, maligned him the unofficial leader. "Today the war ends, today we embrace our brethren again!" A'den said with a smile, he was excited to hold the rest of his clan again. "Today we will embrace the rest of our Aliit, today we will be reunited!" A'den said to the rest of his congregated clan.

 

[Lupe]

In the crowd of the living a dead man stood, one whose deal with death was not fulfilled, one who cheated death so many times it showed in the man's eyes. He walked silently through the crowd of cheers and shouts, silent as the night. The words of a snake whispered to those pure of heart as he walked, lies were what they were being told. The snake hid behind an army of blind fools, instead of fighting for himself, the mandalorian was going to change that. Blood still stained his armor from the ice fields of Fenris, his brothers died there, now was time to avenge there deaths.

The Silent man approached the platform, until he was right in front of it. He looked up, the snake was now silent and the blind now shouted more. He made his way up to the top of the platform pushing the guards that approached him out the way. Once at the top he looked at the "Mandalore" and his aides. The man spoke from underneath his helmet "Do you expect us to cetar, Aruetii?" he asked smiling underneath his helmet, allowing the voice ampliphieers to kick in. He did not even let the so called Mandalorian respond "Before you ask. I am Al'akaan Lucius Veshok. You would know me from Fenris if you had actually fought there, instead of hiding behind ships and cheap tactics. I should be dead, but I survived and I will not let the dead's voices be silent." he said pacing back and forth, his voice mocking but serious and stern. Again he did not allow the Separatist Mandalore time to speak "I have heard enough of you jahaatir. Call those men cowards you will? Perhaps they are but you are no better. Instead of fighting them one on one like a true Mandalorian, you plunge all of us into war. It would be easy for me to beat my enemies with a whole army too, but I am not you." Lucius paused for a second letting his words plunge like daggers then speaking again "Not be slaves of foreigners, you say? Really? Last I heard you allied yourself with the very ones who took our home, The Sith. Tell me what do the Sith specialize in? Making slaves. You are the Sith's utreekov, nothing more nothing less. They will depose of you once you have exhausted your use. And now you come to us so we can join you? After you slaughtered loyalist soldiers on Fenris who surrendered" his voice was rough and aggressive, Lucius looked at Corden with eyes of hate. "No no. Instead I'll give you the chance you never gave to your enemies, I'll make you a deal. You defeat me at a duel and the loyalist will join you, if I win the separatist join us. We will discuss rules later. Deal? Or have you lost what little honor you had, demagolka?" Lucius turned to the crowd smirking, then at Corden "Well?"

 

[Crim]

Eire heard what Lucius said and loudly cheered. She'd worked with the man before and she was quite fond of him. She'd rather follow him than the two-faced traitor that was speaking to the crowd.

 

[Arm514ve]

Hibirar snuck aboard with the rest of the Mandalorians in his armor he hardly ever wore. He doubt he would have been welcomed if he showed up on his own considering he was one of the rats Corden was fighting to kill off, and for the fact even with this supposed peace talk he told his men to try and kill him on sight. do to not being the mans ideal Mandalorian, even though that wasn't true he was ready to lay his life on the line for anyone under him, or even would be on the front line if the need arises he wasn't afraid to fight as some tried to paint him as a coward.

He went to the gathering to hear what the man had to say considering he instigated the war, allied with those who drove them out he was right they could have fought for there homes but then what would they have been a practically dieing culture hunted by the empire because they were out maned and out gunned then what would there honor have given them nothing but death and destruction but instead of working with the leaders he seemed to constantly try and paint those in charge as cowards or in bad light and then to top it all off started a civil war. Cordens speech was all the prof he needed to make up his mind before about the man just wanting power because he was frustrated as being a protector of the people and not raging war like those in the past. But Hibirar's heart was full of sadness with the cheers in the room support for a turn coat the real person who started the war but as he looked around not all hope was lost noticing several squads not applauding or cheering not bowing to the words of someone who manipulated the truth to make it seem he was on a crusade, He was about to speak up when he heard Lucius spoke up, and he now knew there was still some hope and that he wasn't the only one who felt the same way.

 

[Mars]

The thunderous applause after Corden spoke sent chills up Apollo's spine. The rallied assembly of war leaders clapped as their charismatic, if polarizing, leader spoke to the field. He spoke truth of poor leaders and the Mandalorians who had inherited a war from "leaders" who abandoned them for death against the superior Seperatist forces. Like a lightsaber through cloth, the truth of Corden's words cut deep.

Some people have thin skin, and altered perceptions of reality though.

One man stood from the field and spoke aloud. He survived the one sided massacre of Fenris, a fight where a major Loyalist leader killed themselves to avoid facing Corden in single combat in a hilarious display of cowardice that damned nearly all the remaining soldiers. Lucius was the man's name, Apollo had heard of him in the past, before the schism as a rising officer. As the man begun to rant and rave, laughter errupted from where the majority of Clan Ordo stood. They served as the Seperatists most vicious soldiers, shock troopers who could shatter lines of any army in the galaxy and drive through to the heart of the enemy.

By the time the man had finished, the majority of the crowd was outright laughing or boo'ing the poor man. Apollo would speak up.

"Lucius! The last battle appears to have inflicted some mental damage on you!"

The young Echani's voice rang out above the din, silencing most of the Seperatists as the Solyc Al'akaan spoke up, his voice clear, and sarcastically warm.

"We do not expect you to surrender my friend, although your commanding officer at Fenris seemed more than willing to sacrifice her life to help us out, you may fight so long as you'd like to send men and women to run into our rounds. Your lack of knowledge is so clear that it pains me physically. Our great leader was, in fact, present upon the surface of Fenris and was in the process of seeking out your CO before she decided death over facing him personally."

A chuckle escaped the Ordo section, they'd seen their commander take apart cocky recruits before.

"The dead's voices lay silent, my foolish friend, because of that leader you so blindly follow. Plunge all into war? Those that follow Corden do so voluntarily. There was no forced service from any of the Seperatist, just a desire to rid the Mandalorian command of inept cowards. A whole army? Our leader fights with his Ori'ramikade, one of the smaller units. I believe it is me you seek to mock, for while we both lead assaults from the front, it is I who obliterates emplacements, the likes of which you failed miserably at defending on Fenris."

A cheer went up from his clan again, as well as from some of the other clans who had soon the Ordo assault teams at work. His pure-beskar armor was black and well-worn, indicating the countless training hours and skirmishes it had seen.

"Why is it you fear the Sith so, Lucius? They are not the dark-robed, traitorous ones of nearly a thousand years prior. Tell me, if you so fear the Sith making us slaves, why is it you fight for the Loyalists? Are you not merely a slave to their commands? A blinded follower of those even you admit may be cowards? No, Lucius, no Loyalists on Fenris were murdered. They were a weakness to be purged. A cancer that made our people weaker. You are just another tumor among many and yet you continue to rant and rave without the knowledge to make an informed speech. Do your research before you decide to insult the leader."

While some begin to assume he was done, Apollo held up a hand to finish off.

"You seem committed, which is admirable, but you lack the combat expertise to hold a fortified encampment succesfully, yet you intend to fight the Mand'alor in single combat?"

A short laugh escaped his own lips at this point, his voice adopting a careless tone.

"Prepare the funeral pyre boys"

The applause was deafening, the laughter equal in volume, Apollo was done with this one.

 

[Apollyon]

At Apollo's words A'den stood up "Do you forget they were once blood Apollo? Or are you too bloodthirsty to remember why we are here? I was among the Loyaltist ranks while that battle was fought...not in the battle but among them none the less! They may have been misguided in their beliefs but they are every much a warrior as me and you! Let the man speak, let Corden knock him down a peg and let this be over!" He shouted at Apollo, irritated at the blatant disrespect of their Brothers and Sisters. "Damned Ordos..." A'den whispered as he sat down among his clan.

 

[Raider]

"Mand'alor! Mand'alor! Mand'alor!"

*Jask shouted at the top of his lungs with the rest of Aliit Varad. His right arm punching an armored fist into the air with each shout. The jubilation his felt was primal and indescribable. It was feeling of victory; trumiph. He had not fought side-by-side with his brothers and sisters at Fenris, but fought he had all the same. Fought for the honor and glory of his people and a future in which Mando'ad stood strong. He joined the chorus of laughter at the fool who dared speak words so slanderous of the new Mand'alor. It would an excellent show when Mand'alor put the wild male his proper place.*

 

[Lupe]

Lucius looked at the man who addressed him. Lucius insane? Perhaps. He smiled while that of Clan Ordo spoke, how far have they fallen, once a clan of great warriors, with honor, now nothing more then dogs of war. Once the dog finished, Lucius smirked and looked at Corden "Your dog barks too much you should keep a tighter leash on him" he said softly, and calmly. He then turned to Apollo "Perhaps it has. Perhaps it has. I do not commend the actions that Jenna Wolf committed that day nor will I ever, so hold your tongue, di'kut. As for you leading the assault on Fenris, I think not. You won nothing, in fact we killed more then you, destroyed more then you, I killed a few Ordo myself. Where were you? Not on Fenris, if you were you would be among the fallen." Lucius said his voice was cold, sure to bring back memories of Fenris "Do not twist my words, Ordo. I do not fear the Sith, only that I have enough sense to not trust them. As for being a Slave to command, was I told to come here, to do this? No, I came here of my own will not as a Loyalist but as a Mandalorian. As for failure to hold an encamped location, yeah I did fail against air support and a force three times my own which included four times as many tanks and armor. Quite a horrible defeat, I'd like to see you do better." Lucius said with a smirk on his face, the last part was a blunt statement one that beckoned him to do something stupid.

 

[Vencu]

"Enough." Corden's tone was ominous as he raised a gauntleted hand for silence, "I called this gathering so we could talk peace, but as long as there are those among us who thirst for the blood of vode, these internal struggles will continue to divide us."

Corden climbed the wide ramp leading up to the top of the platform just behind him. It was a block of durasteel-reinforced permacrete just five meters across and five meters wide. Originally, it had held the support structure for a small turbolift that had long since been removed to free up space for additional cargo. Without pause, Corden turned back toward the crowd gathered below and focused in on the warrior he knew to be Lucius. Already, Corden's gauntleted right hand gripped the metallic tan hilt of the ancient flail hanging close at his side, preparing to uncoil it for use.

"Al'akaan Lucius of Aliit Veshok, I accept your challenge." Corden addressed Lucius, but his voice boomed out over all those gathered below. By accepting the challenge, he was setting a precedent for other leaders to follow. Corden wanted everyone to bear witness, "Take your place on the platform... We fight as we are. No ranged weaponry. Melee or hand-to-hand only. We settle this feud here and now."

 

[Tokuhara]

At Apollo's words A'den stood up "Do you forget they were once blood Apollo? Or are you too bloodthirsty to remember why we are here? I was among the Loyaltist ranks while that battle was fought...not in the battle but among them none the less! They may have been misguided in their beliefs but they are every much a warrior as me and you! Let the man speak, let Corden knock him down a peg and let this be over!" He shouted at Apollo, irritated at the blatant disrespect of their Brothers and Sisters. "Damned Ordos..." A'den whispered as he sat down among his clan.

"The Ordo have always been a "Shoot First, Ask Questions Later" group. If their leader didn't have his head up his ass, we would have won by now."

Drrel has never removed his helm to A'den, revealing his Dathomiri heritage. He hopes to not have to for a long while. Sure, it seems disrespectful, but it is to hide his identity as a mixed-blooded "weakling."

 

[Django]

Titus kept steady thanks to his cane - and didn't worry about anyone recognizing him at the event as he had robes over his Mandalorian armor - he had became fond of the little piece of wood that helped him get around since he received his injuries during the Battle of Fenris. Standing towards the back of the big mess, Titus looked through the crowds of people at Cabur. It if wasn't for him, he would be without a life and without a home. Following the BoF Cabur scooped up Titus' near lifeless body and brought him back to health as best as he could while keeping Titus' identity secret. His injuries would take a long time to fully recover.

Hearing the embellished stories of Separatist victories from time to time, Titus decided to stay around Cabur's ship and help out where he could. Returning the Loyalist quite yet didn't seem like a thought out decision. And besides, what exactly was there to return to?

Listening to Corden's speech nearly made him sick. The man proclaimed himself Mandalore, which wasn't news. But now he was 'Mandalore The Sustainer. Mandalore The Preserver. Mandalore The Protector.' What did he sustain? What did he preserve? What exactly was he protecting? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Titus produced a smile as a gruff figure approached the platform where Corden had been standing. He knew who he was, and as the figures words echoed throughout the old Ammo Cargo space his identity had been confirmed. Lucius Veshok. So Titus wasn't the only one to have survived the BoF, that was good. Lucius was a friend of Titus'. His survival was very good indeed. If any man deserved to be Mandalore, it was Lucius.

He listened to Lucius challenge the self-proclaimed Mandalore and heard a couple of cheers from the large crowd. Titus should have cheered as well, but he didn't have the strength. What followed was unnecessary. Listening to others in the crowd uproar and shout their hateful things really did make Titus sick. And when Apollo began to speak of silly things Titus simply blocked his words away. Anger was growing down deeply inside of Titus and he eyed Cabur through the crowd. He had to say something. Anything... anything to settle this madness.

Gathering up the courage, Titus limped up to the platform with his robe hood draped over his head. He hoarsely called out to Corden, "Allow me to speak, please." Titus climbed up onto the platform and looked at the crowd and then at Cabur and then at Lucius. This was pretty much all the family he had left. He gulped and looked at Corden- the self-proclaimed Mandalore. Titus knew the only reason why he was allowed on top of the platform was because of how weak he surely looked.

Finally finding a loud voice, Titus began to speak towards the crowd and Corden and his voice command everyone listen.

"Corden you have preserved nothing. You have sustained nothing. YOU HAVE PROTECTED NOTHING! You are the root to all the hatred and destruction we Mandalorians have sadly seen so often in recent times. Corden, you are just another politician who fights with other politicians. You are no better than those of the Galactic Alliance- no, you are worse. You started a Civil War over your disagreements.

You and your followers have many criticisms of the people who you betrayed. You say that we aren't Mandalorians anymore. That we are outsiders. That we have lost our collective soul. I ask you this, what was our collective soul? Was it the same three-thousand years ago as one-thousand years ago? The Mandalorians are a culture that is always evolving. We accept people from wide ranges of cultures into our ranks. We always have.

Just because some of us whore our strengths in combat to the highest bidder it doesn't mean we aren't Mandalorian. We have simply evolved.

Corden I have studied you and a lot of other things in the time since the Battle of Fenris. You are a herder Corden. Your followers are bantha. And you are herding them to a cliff where they will meet their death. You are not the answer to our problems Corden. You sought change and you worked for it and that is honorable. But now you need to step down. You and the Separatist hierarchy. Then we, as Mandalorians can come together again and solve the problems we face ahead of us.

Do you truly want the best for the Mandalorian people? DO THE MANDALORIAN PEOPLE WANT THE BEST FOR THEMSELVES!? Then Corden will step down from his seemingly powerful position. And we will not allow Corden to ever be Mandalore."

Titus took a breath and turned to direct the crowd solely. "Mark my words, all of you... If Corden becomes Mandalore or if any of his hierarchy is established as Mandalore they will be known as Mandalore the Wrong. The Deceiver. The Backward. Our children will ask us why we let this movement continue. Why we didn't stop it, here and now. And their children will have to work harder then any one of us to fix the destruction we caused. And their children will pick fun at Cordens name behind their parents backs, against their mothers wishes that the dreadful name not be said."

Pausing, Titus flipped off his hood and looked at the crowd. Then at Lucius. Then at Corden. Then at Apollo. And then back at the crowd. "I am Titus of Clan Skirata. Survivor of the Battle of Fenris where I saw firsthand the horrors of seeing a Mandalorian kill another Mandalorian. And now, today... I stand before all of you as a Mandalorian. As a champion of peace and unity. And I want which and every single one of you to stand with me, so we can all solve the problems we will face soon. As Mandalorians. As One. Finally together."

 

[Tokuhara]

A shot rings out, the bolt flying over Titus' right shoulder. Drrel, Westar-34 in his left hand, twirls the blaster, replacing it on his right hip. He then pops a seal on his helmet, removing his Death Watcher helm, revealing something he never showed anyone present before: his face. His flesh is covered in black tattoos with his crown of horns polished perfectly, in the same way many Mandalorians trim their hair into warrior-style haircuts.

"Shut your f!&#in' mouth before I silence it for you. How dare you insult the great Mand'alors of the past by turning your back on the edicts they set for us to follow. You dare insult Mand'alor the Ultimate? The Preserver? You are an insult to the Mandalorian name. Mand'alor Vencu seeks to preserve our heritage so our children and children's children may be strong like we are, and you dare speak against one who is far more qualified than you to lead? You should step aside and let those more willing to do what is necessary to preserve the ways of our great history."

Dathomiri Zabrak aren't known particularly for patience nor for discretion. His eyes have a rage that could turn a man's blood to ice. Sure, he spoke out of turn and is but a simple warrior, but such fervor and devotion to the cause could be seen as a good thing.

 

[Matty]

Duraan made his way down from the platform and took a stance behind the Dathomiri Zabrak. He put his right hand on the man's left shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He briefly looked away and at his helmet. A small smile flashed across his face before being replaced by a look of desperation. The Mandalorian Civil War had gone on long enough. Brothers had fought against their brothers, father had slain their sons in acts that should never be repeated. Duraan gave an exasperated sigh and gave Drrel another squeeze of the shoulder. Mandalorian honor was all the species had. They had no home nor a real species. Actions like the one Drrel gave only promoted anarchy and the eventual downfall of their culture. Duraan could sympathize with the Zabrak. He to had gone into battle against the loyalists. He had lost friends, brothers and sisters to the blasted conflict. Duraan turned toward Titus and gave the man a small shake of his head. Titus, like so many others held the wounds from Fenris. A bloody conflict that in the end had no real winner since the clans were meeting. Duraan's expression couldn't help but soften at the man's proclamation. He knew the man was wrong. With each and every declaration that someone was to be the new Mandalore, the conflict would only continue. Instead of Corden fighting Dani Marren, it would be Apollo Ordo fighting Titus Skirata. Lucius against Drrel. Duraan turned towards his helmet once more and set it upon a nearby crate. He turned back towards group, stepping a few paces back from the Zabrak

"Easy vod" Duraan said as soothing as possible "Further violence will only divide us more than it already has. We need to unite under a single banner. Let Mand'alor fight Lucius and if need be, Titus. Let those who delcare the challenge do the fighting"

Duraan turned towards Titus, then to Lucius and finally towards Apollo and Corden.

 

[Nirvana]

These past few months had been hectic, going into battle after battle for this war machine known as the MSM. Serving on the front line as soldier, he hadn't mind doing such things. It was something that had to be done, it was order he followed. Nothing more, nothing less. When not in battle he had been writing reports of the ships status, the battle group he was part of. And helping the young man named Titus to get better from the injuries he received during the battle of Fenris, a battle where many perished on both sides.

And now he found himself with his clan aboard the Mando'kar, listening to what the so called manda'lor spoke about. War, it was a thing meant to destroy cultures, people and civilizations. Leadership, something that people followed blindly when in doubt, to make them feel safe. Peace, what you gained from when a war ended, it was just a lie. It was the calmness before the storm, before another war would break loose and bring death.

He had listened to what every person had either yelled, spoke or screamed out here, even his clan leaders words on how the defenders on Fenris was unable to stop their war machine, why would they have been able to do so. They where caught with their pants down, unprepared for their assault on the planet. To him it was no surprise that they had fallen, but they had put up a remarkable fight even though their fortress was blown to pieces, though not by the separatists, but by their own commanders.

Cabur listened to what Lucius said, he spoke about sith, about honor, about slaves. And he was probably the only one here that didn't care if he would be hated by everyone for challenging Vencu, or care what anyone would think of him if he did. He really was an idiot, he still hadn't grown up from that kid he used to be when he first meet him, so long ago.

The words spoken by one in the crowd caught his attention, something about the Ordo's being shoot first ask questions later, if he had seen the man saying it, he would have shown him the power that a member of clan Ordo. But he was a man of reason, and wouldn't do things that was not needed. Right now he would focus on what was happening now, Corden having accepted Lucius challenge. This would be very interesting to watch indeed.

Then when he heard the voice of Titus he smiled some, that young kid had been so enthusiastic about his research regarding mandalorian history, culture, religion. Anything that would or could define what a mandalorian would be, he really wanted this war to end above all else. It was so easily seen on him.

And when he heard and saw a blaster round flying past Titus shoulder Cabur placed his hands on one of his pistols, but listened to what the mandalorian said. He spoke about insults to the Manda'lor, if you where man enough to insult the leader of the clans, they you deserved respect, at least enough respect to be listened to without having to risk your neck.

Making his way up to Apollo, Cabur placed a hand on his shoulder and opened a channel to him.” Alor Apollo, I ask for permission to have the man who opened fire during this meeting to be escorted away from this hall.” he said with a calm voice, before removing his hand and backing away. Awaiting the answer of his Alor.

 

[Tokuhara]

Duraan made his way down from the platform and took a stance behind the Dathomiri Zabrak. He put his right hand on the man's left shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He briefly looked away and at his helmet. A small smile flashed across his face before being replaced by a look of desperation. The Mandalorian Civil War had gone on long enough. Brothers had fought against their brothers, father had slain their sons in acts that should never be repeated. Duraan gave an exasperated sigh and gave Drrel another squeeze of the shoulder. Mandalorian honor was all the species had. They had no home nor a real species. Actions like the one Drrel gave only promoted anarchy and the eventual downfall of their culture. Duraan could sympathize with the Zabrak. He to had gone into battle against the loyalists. He had lost friends, brothers and sisters to the blasted conflict. Duraan turned toward Titus and gave the man a small shake of his head. Titus, like so many others held the wounds from Fenris. A bloody conflict that in the end had no real winner since the clans were meeting. Duraan's expression couldn't help but soften at the man's proclamation. He knew the man was wrong. With each and every declaration that someone was to be the new Mandalore, the conflict would only continue. Instead of Corden fighting Dani Marren, it would be Apollo Ordo fighting Titus Skirata. Lucius against Drrel. Duraan turned towards his helmet once more and set it upon a nearby crate. He turned back towards group, stepping a few paces back from the Zabrak

"Easy vod" Duraan said as soothing as possible "Further violence will only divide us more than it already has. We need to unite under a single banner. Let Mand'alor fight Lucius and if need be, Titus. Let those who delcare the challenge do the fighting"

Duraan turned towards Titus, then to Lucius and finally towards Apollo and Corden.

Drrel clenched his teeth, then sighed.

"You are right, brother. My actions make me no better than the insolent dogs the Loyalists are."

Drrel retrieves his helm, holding it under his arm. He was ashamed of what he is: a mixed-blooded runt with a "destiny" to fall into the temptation of The Force. He saw himself as weak, lesser, and an abomination, but being recently accepted into clan Fett reignited the fire that once made him loathe himself.

He then turns to Cabur, locking eyes with him, determination now filing his eyes instead of rage, as a cruel and twisted smile creeps along his face.

"I will not bow to some dog who refers to us as cattle, views our leader as a traitor, and turns his back to the ways set by Mand'alors of the past. Yes, my actions were brazen, but I simply acted instead of hiding my disgust for those Loyalist pigs. If you do not share my emotions, then step aside and let the real Verdas deal with this."

Drrel turns from Cabur, returning to a silent and stern figure, as if nothing had happened; as if he had never shot at Tidus.