Mandalore's Open Orbit

A Progenitor! Ezakk snapped to attention and pounded his right hand against his chest, over his heart, and left it there in salute. Ezakk could not believe it. A Taung! He had only heard stories and seen holoimages of them. He had never expected any of them to be alive. If his eye could be seen, which would have been impossible from within his helmet, they would be wide with shock and reverence. He composed himself internally before he addressed the pair again.

There are not many of my clansmen left. We scattered an eon ago and have dwindled in numbers. My parents and I have lived on Concordia my entire life, though I must admit our family has only been on the moon for three generations.

The following question was clearly meant for Aeleus.

What do you mean? What is happening on Manda'yaim?

Ezakk nodded as the transmission shut down. He relaxed and sat down in the pilot's chair. Just as he sat down, R2-I7 chirped that he had received affirmation of their landing position. He could sense all of the electronics in the fighter through his Psicom interface implant. Through it he communicated to R2-I7.

I7, take us down.

The starfighter shuttered slightly as the thrusters were engaged and, slowly, the Gra'tua began its decent to Mandalore.

A section of space above the world of Mandalore rippled and distorted to mark the arrival of the battered light transport Lame Llama. The trusty old vessel seemed to struggle in fits and starts as her nose came around on a course for entry to Mandalore's atmosphere.

In the cargo section, among varied crates from a dozen worlds sat twenty or so males of varying species. Some wore full Mandalorian armor, others wore only a chest and back plate, and some wore little or none. There were as many colors represented as there were names to give them. Hues of red, yellow and green, blues, purples and black and white. Some wore only one color, others were a patchwork. Sitting around in an alcove between three large containers was Liam Blood, late of the Sons of Bounty. With him were Jorun of Clan Ordo and Borri of Clan Viszla, one in yellow armor, the other in black. Aside from the two Mandalorians was the Wookiee Gortakka, his fur a deep, rich brown, wearing a double bandolier festooned with grenades, and packing a wicked looking curved vibroblade the length of a man's arm.

The Mandalorians were trying to teach Liam a few words in their language, Mando'a, to augment the dozen or so mostly swear words that he had picked up in his time with the Sons of Bounty. One did not look up a how-to holo of how to speak Mando'a, it was learned by speaking with those who were fluent. Liam was a reasonably quick learner, but it would be a long while before it was as natural to him as Basic or Huttese, languages he had had since early childhood. Borri was holding forth about Mandalorian culture, a subject that brought out eloquence in the normally reserved mercenary.

BV: You need to understand what we are if you mean to become one of us. A Mandalorian lives his life with six basic laws. No one rules us save Mand'alor. Even then, he only makes sensible suggestions that we usually want to follow anyway. Liam liked the sound of that, it agreed closely with his own feelings on personal freedoms. He could adapt himself to most situations, however becoming a Mandalorian was more than a task to be completed to Liam; He knew the serious commitment that lay before him, and he had considered long before making his decision to come to Mandalore and give himself over to their unique way of life.

JO: Yeah, that or we find ourselves a new Mand'alor.

Liam was surprised at that, but he supposed it made sense. Warriors weren't likely to long follow a leader who tried to lead them in foolish directions, and no Mando Liam had ever met had suffered idiots for much longer than it took to draw a blaster or a vibroblade. Good, he thought, he'd never had much time for ineffectual superiors either. He didn't know much about the current Mand'alor beyond his name, Ashrah, and his rumored distaste for Force users.

BV: Aye, there's that. Anyway, as I was saying, there are six tenets to Mandalorian life.
Borri continued at length while the Lame Llama began its lumbering descent into the skies of Mandalore.

Coming out of hyperspace....now. Vee yawned despite herself.

Tired? Her co-pilot, Don, smirked.

Vee shrugged.I could catch a few.

Don gave her a long side look. Though he said nothing, Vee knew her appearance betrayed her.The trip back had been long and, bless the gods, uneventful. But uneventful often meant boring. And boring meant tiring. When she decided upon the life of a pilot, boring and tiring was certainly not what she had in mind.

In front of her Mandalore shone brightly. Whenever she saw the planet, she couldn't help but think of Taung. She used to think about him a lot when she flew, he was going to teach her how. Fortunately, she was thinking of him less and less each passing day.

Vessel 003675, identify yourself. The blaring voice jolted Vee out of her thoughts.

This is the Carpathea, requesting permission to land on dock - Vee tuned out, Don was more than capable of handling the welcome wagon. As soon as they landed and finished their post-cleanup, Vee was hitting the sack.

The Carpathea slowly made it's way to dock in Mandalore.