- Joined
- Oct 21, 2007
- Messages
- 3,070
- Reaction score
- 3
With a somewhat contented sigh Delmon over saw the many members of his clan as they labored before him. Over the last several weeks they had merely existed, aimlessly wandering through empty space in search of a home where they would not be immediately found out by those who sought them. The men and women of clan Ordo had found themselves wanting, eager for something to occupy their sorrow filled minds. In the south end of the outer rim just about as far as one could possibly go they found such a thing.
The verdant green of planet Vestar beckoned clan Ordo like a siren's song. It's native populace having been exterminated by the Imperium of old, it was practically uninhabited. Perfect for the weakened Mandalorian clan to set down and begin anew. Being that no actual settlements still existed on the far flung planet, Ordo was forced to take desperate measures to ensure they had a well defended home on their newly claimed planet. One of their few remaining Shukala clan Corvette's had been scuttled on the planet's surface to provide a base of operations. The shield generator from the derelict frigate that once hung within Dxun's orbit had been salvaged to add an extra layer of defense to the newly christened base. Seeing no point in letting them go to waste, the main guns aboard the Corvette were kept intact, meant as an added layer of protection from unwanted visitors.
The task of retrofitting the Corvette's generators and turning the scuttled hull into a decent base of operations busied the members of Clan Ordo, allowing their hearts to harden and their thirst for retribution to fester and grow. They all had one thing on their minds as they worked with their hands to forge a new home from the ashes of the old. Vengeance. What was once disdain for the Sith and their Imperium had turned into full blooded malice.
Never again would the members of Clan Ordo be able to run freely through Dxun's endless jungles. Never would they be able to return to the place of their forefathers, where their loved ones had returned to the earth to give back to the green. There was no illusion that the Sith had entirely glassed the once lush moon, even though none within the clan's ranks had returned to witness the devastation the dark siders had wrought. Life would return to the moon in time, though none currently alive within Ordo would live to see it. Destruction on such a scale would take thousands of years to heal, maybe even longer. The plethora of deadly predators that had inhabited the small jungle moon would live on only as memories, save for the handful of Maalraas that the clan had used as a form of hunting hound. They were sure to be the last of their kind, save for whatever meager populations of the beasts born from the animal trade that might exist.
Though many had turned their sorrow into hatred, Delmon hung onto it like a fresh wound. That very reason was why he chose to seclude himself from his fellow clan members. Most knew of his whereabouts, but chose to leave their leader to grieve on his own. His thoughts were planted squarely on his mother and father, who had been returned to the green like so many others before them. The Skyblade clan had existed for thousands of years, weathering the storm of war and death the galaxy held and always coming out stronger than before. Under his father's watch his clan had flourished, and under his father's father it had done much the same. Such was the way of things. That is, until Delmon took the reigns. Within ten years of gaining the title of Alor only hardship had befallen his people. They had gained new brothers and sisters from clan Ordo, yet were beset by foes on all sides due to their sister clan's negative stigma. That hardship had been weathered with their combined strength, but it was as nothing compared to the Sith and their seemingly endless armada of ships. Now his people had lost the only constant. Dxun was forever lost to them, and he couldn't help but feel it was all his fault.
For the first time in years doubt had begun to creep into Delmon's mind. The future and safety of his people was in jeopardy, and he felt as though he could nothing to change it. So much so that he had forgone some of his more prevalent beleifs and sought out the Hutt's, who had been keen on recruiting the clan for some time. It was something he didn't very much want for his people, they were far above hired muscle in his eyes. He had also sought out the Rebellion, though they had been much harder to get in touch with. Both groups had agree'd to a meeting. Delmon would attend both to increase the odds for his people.
As he sat atop a high branch as he watched his clan, he messaged one of its newer members. She was promised a new life and an exciting future, something Delmon was not sure he could provide. Either deal whether it was with the Hutt's or the Rebellion was sure to be a game changer. Though Shev'dela was relatively new to the clan, Delmon found himself trusting her. He had told no one of his plans, she would be the first to know.
The verdant green of planet Vestar beckoned clan Ordo like a siren's song. It's native populace having been exterminated by the Imperium of old, it was practically uninhabited. Perfect for the weakened Mandalorian clan to set down and begin anew. Being that no actual settlements still existed on the far flung planet, Ordo was forced to take desperate measures to ensure they had a well defended home on their newly claimed planet. One of their few remaining Shukala clan Corvette's had been scuttled on the planet's surface to provide a base of operations. The shield generator from the derelict frigate that once hung within Dxun's orbit had been salvaged to add an extra layer of defense to the newly christened base. Seeing no point in letting them go to waste, the main guns aboard the Corvette were kept intact, meant as an added layer of protection from unwanted visitors.
The task of retrofitting the Corvette's generators and turning the scuttled hull into a decent base of operations busied the members of Clan Ordo, allowing their hearts to harden and their thirst for retribution to fester and grow. They all had one thing on their minds as they worked with their hands to forge a new home from the ashes of the old. Vengeance. What was once disdain for the Sith and their Imperium had turned into full blooded malice.
Never again would the members of Clan Ordo be able to run freely through Dxun's endless jungles. Never would they be able to return to the place of their forefathers, where their loved ones had returned to the earth to give back to the green. There was no illusion that the Sith had entirely glassed the once lush moon, even though none within the clan's ranks had returned to witness the devastation the dark siders had wrought. Life would return to the moon in time, though none currently alive within Ordo would live to see it. Destruction on such a scale would take thousands of years to heal, maybe even longer. The plethora of deadly predators that had inhabited the small jungle moon would live on only as memories, save for the handful of Maalraas that the clan had used as a form of hunting hound. They were sure to be the last of their kind, save for whatever meager populations of the beasts born from the animal trade that might exist.
Though many had turned their sorrow into hatred, Delmon hung onto it like a fresh wound. That very reason was why he chose to seclude himself from his fellow clan members. Most knew of his whereabouts, but chose to leave their leader to grieve on his own. His thoughts were planted squarely on his mother and father, who had been returned to the green like so many others before them. The Skyblade clan had existed for thousands of years, weathering the storm of war and death the galaxy held and always coming out stronger than before. Under his father's watch his clan had flourished, and under his father's father it had done much the same. Such was the way of things. That is, until Delmon took the reigns. Within ten years of gaining the title of Alor only hardship had befallen his people. They had gained new brothers and sisters from clan Ordo, yet were beset by foes on all sides due to their sister clan's negative stigma. That hardship had been weathered with their combined strength, but it was as nothing compared to the Sith and their seemingly endless armada of ships. Now his people had lost the only constant. Dxun was forever lost to them, and he couldn't help but feel it was all his fault.
For the first time in years doubt had begun to creep into Delmon's mind. The future and safety of his people was in jeopardy, and he felt as though he could nothing to change it. So much so that he had forgone some of his more prevalent beleifs and sought out the Hutt's, who had been keen on recruiting the clan for some time. It was something he didn't very much want for his people, they were far above hired muscle in his eyes. He had also sought out the Rebellion, though they had been much harder to get in touch with. Both groups had agree'd to a meeting. Delmon would attend both to increase the odds for his people.
As he sat atop a high branch as he watched his clan, he messaged one of its newer members. She was promised a new life and an exciting future, something Delmon was not sure he could provide. Either deal whether it was with the Hutt's or the Rebellion was sure to be a game changer. Though Shev'dela was relatively new to the clan, Delmon found himself trusting her. He had told no one of his plans, she would be the first to know.
