Keldabe

Farm known as 'Jaster's Hope' - Some distance outside Keldabe City

Keldabe was Keldabe, ageless, timeless, it went on despite the galaxy changing around it, like the jewel at the center of the Mandalorian crown. Kaine had accessed the HoloNet and found a farm for sale just outside the city limits, with everything he wanted, and everything Caz wanted in a new home.

His beloved has put up with him through many many years of Kaine being Kaine, and though he hadn't always been great at making friends or particularly skilled in the diplomatic arena; Kaine had made a lot of credits doing what he did best; killing those that needed killing, and preventing others from killing those who needed protecting.

Now it wasn't quite time for him to retire, but it was time for him to settle down just a little and give Caz the lifestyle she deserved. The farmland bordered a small inland sea which was basically a large lake, big enough that you couldn't see the far side, which suited Kaine's purpose.

The house was a decent size, though in need of some repairs and renovations. On the land was also a barn and several smaller outbuildings. Kaine knew one of them contained a smithy, which was why he'd selected this particular property. It had been named 'Jaster's Hope' and Kaine felt no need to change the name.

Upon his first visit, Kaine went directly to the smithy, carrying a camtono of beskar ingots. The forge was, he was pleased to see, still functional, and even contained a full set of tools. Kaine fired it up, and got to work.

The ingots melted in the forge's flames, and Kaine busied himself punching the design for what he had in mind into the forge's computer. While the forge did its work making the mandalorian iron malleable and workable, Kaine took out the precut length of hardwood he'd prepared as the hilt of the weapon he was creating.

Once the metal was ready, Kaine busied himself shaping it and adding the particular additives to the metal that made it so durable and famed throughout the galaxy. Beskar itself was valuable, but it was the Mandalorian Smiths that turned it into the finest armour in the galaxy. Today Kaine was turning it into a hand axe, to replace one he'd lost.

The Axehead came out in one solid piece. Carefully, Kaine pressed the hardwood in, which slightly scorched the upper length as it mated with the still hot beskar, which was cooling fast. Delicately, he placed the hilt just right and held it while the hot metal cooled and solidified around the wood, forging the weapon into a single finely balanced piece.

Once completed and cooled, Kaine took the axe over to a side table, where he wrapped the hilt in leather he'd brought; Maalraas leather from Dxun. Finally, he began sharpening the axe's bite, which took some time, shaving the edge down to a fine monomolecular edge.

The work took time, and care, but the final product was worth it. Kaine had created for himself a hand axe that was no good for throwing, but would bite deep into even a heavily armoured opponent. He named it after its original, Shuk'la Skira. Broken Revenge in Mando'a.



Finally, he slipped the axehandle into his belt, and exited the Smithy into the air of Keldabe, which by now had darkened to night. Smithing work took time, and he realised he'd been at it all day.

Kaine took a deep breath of free Mandalorian air, and smiled to himself. Caz was going to love this place. Trees, wildlife, water, and nobody else for miles around. Freedom.

Farm known as 'Jaster's Hope' - Some distance outside Keldabe City



Konig rode an old swoop bike out to the farm his father had bought, near Keldabe but not inside the town itself. Far enough out to be beyond shouting distance, as the old boar liked to say. Konig preferred to be precise in his doings, and he measured 69 miles which he figured had to have been deliberate on his father's part, but the place was impressive enough. Kaine wasn't renowned for having good taste in anything but weaponry, but he seemed to have chosen well.

Noise from one of the outbuildings drew Konig to the forge, and he pulled the swoop up outside, got off, and went in. Sure enough, Kaine was there, fidding with the forge's computer.

Who is it? Kaine called out, having heard the swoop.

Konig. Said Konig, and went into the large shed, which had tool racks which looked to him as if they must have belonged to the former owner. They were far too well looked after and organized to belong to his father, who was, while skilled enough, not a neat or organized being at the best of times.

The son of Kaine the trainers had called the Lion could deal with his father only in small doses. Today he suffered the old man's presence because, as with many adult children, he needed something. Best to get it in before Kaine could begin playing twenty questions, he decided.

Got you six months of holonet data. Kaine whistled. Nice haul. What did it cost?

Konig waved his datapad. This. And he transmitted the scan he'd taken in Oyu'baat of the new friend he'd made at the bar. Needs a new bracer, did us a good turn. Proper beskar'kandar, buir.

Buir, the Mandalorian word for father. Konig was playing up to Kaine's sensibilities, and Kaine was wary enough to know it, but he wasn't doing much else. Fine, but you stay here and help.

Konig swore, but came over and broke out some ingots while his father stoked up the forge to full and entered the template. Kaine whistled. This arm spike is going to be interesting, but i've got an idea. Hurry up with that beskar, and come have a look at this.

Konig swore again, but quickly slotted the ingots into the forge's cradle, and then moved behind his father where he could see the screen. Kaine showed his concept for the bracer. A spike-like protrusion of micronized beskar covered the arm, but with a hollow tip where the arm's spike could protrude from the very end of the protective beskar. 

It was Konig's turn to whistle. The old man was an acquired taste, but sometimes he had good ideas. Oya! The younger Australis said, and banged a hand on his father's backplate. Kaine punched the forge into life, and went to work pouring the mould and working the hot metal. 

Konig was no smith, and didn't know one ingredient from another, but he was capable of picking up the things Kaine pointed to and handing them over without understanding the process. Eventually, it was done, and the metal was allowed to cool. The work had taken a little longer, because of the difficulty in working the ubiquitous metal so thin for their purposes; but when you could work with matter at the molecular level, and had millennia of experience of Mando'ade Goran'e behind you, you managed.

Kaine took the bracer from the cradle with two padded gloves and carried it to cool on a nearby stone. He took out a leather sheet and put it on another stone beside the cooling bracer. Konig didn't need to be told that was to wrap the gift in.

This sort of thing was a matter of honour among Mando'ade; something aruetiise would never see. The trust of allowing someone to even view the process of smelting beskar, the priceless metal that had made the Mandalorians recognized across the galaxy, was deep, even among family. For Konig to ask to give it to an outsider, Kaine could only agree, or question his son's personal honour, something he would not do. Konig had in effect, given his word on behalf of Syren that the beskar would be held with honour. Should a Mandalorian challenge her as to where she had come by it, Konig would be the one who needed to answer, and his honour would be on the line as well as hers should it be misused, or used against Mando'ade. 

It was no wonder aruetiise so often misunderstood Mandos with all this complicated stuff going on, most of which individual Mando'ade invented themselves as their own interpretations of six simple rules.

Konig, for his part, got back on his swoop a little wobbly after having shared drinks with his father before leaving. He packed the leather-wrapped bracer in tight, and headed back towards Keldabe. Good thing Mandalore didn't have a highway patrol, because tihaar was liable to put one over the local intoxicant limit. Konig put the navigation on auto, and held on as the swoop's memory took him back the way he had come.

Syren

Konig saw a man come pounding down the ship's ramp, but the approach slowed when he sighted Konig. Recognition came immediately.

The Australis removed his helmet one handed, clipping it to his belt, letting his pale hair fall free of the Buy'ce.


No worries. Brought a package for Syren.

He offered over the leather wrapped bundle, within which was the new forged beskar bracer his father had made.

Hassle with the locals eh? Anything I can help with?

Konig, like his father, enjoyed mercilessly bullying petty bureaucrats, especially on Manda'yaim. That sort of nonsense should be discouraged at every turn, they both agreed.

Seeing Syren, Konig nodded. Hello there.

Syren

From the alleyways, shadows moved about, jumping between the various causeways and interactions where space was between buildings. A few came first, looking around, before waving to unseen others. They moved like Nexu on the hunt, a pack of them prowling left and right. One stopped, turning on a device and doing a quick spray upon a building before running to rejoin the ground. The emblem that appeared was that of an old order of Mandalorians, the Neo-Crusaders, of Mandalore the Ultimate. The design had become a popular sight across Keldabe and other cities that dotted both Mandalore and Concordia. It indicated something and it was a proud symbol to those who left the graffiti here and there.

The group of shadowy operatives found their way deep within the block of buildings that they maneuvering through. A few backpacks were set down within the shadows of what appeared to be a power generator, likely the supply for this area's power grid. Those who carried the backpacks procured several items, handmade EMPs bombs. Their rallies had stirred the people, their graffiti was encouraging to others, their actions were gaining followers. Now, they needed to take it to the next step and get the Assembly to hear their roar. The EMPs were armed and sticky stuff added to the ends to ensure they'd stick to the metallic surfaces on the generator. A few lookouts kept an eye as the rest of the group began to move about, setting up their handmade devices.

=Mandalorian=
Hurry up!

One of the sentries said to the group. One of them turned to the sentry in return.

=Mandalorian=
You try doing this then! Now shut up and keep watch!

The female snorts before going back to getting the devices in place. In total, ten were set up in areas here and there. Enough EMP to practically blow out the generator without causing a massive explosion that could result in more than just collateral damage. The Faithful wanted the people on their side, not to be against them. Their leader desired greater efforts, but not so much as armed rebellion or confrontation. Not yet at least.

The last one was placed and the group reconvened by where they came through. A timer was set before all nodded and broke into a few smaller groups. Best way to stay undetected and get back to the tunnels below. Once they were some buildings away, the female Mandalorian pulls out a transmitter and clicks the button. A loud BOOOM! went off as the EMPs did their job. Soon, one of the power grids reported a shortage, then an outage, as one portion of the city lost its power. This was just a taste of what was to come.