Theed

The Twi'lek woman laughed and spouted insults - Jashin rather impassively yawning through it all. His head was pounding, and the last thing he needed was this gaggle of females hissing and spitting at him. To either side of Jashin, Shizune and Jakk both stiffened, their hands reaching for weapons. Neither Tanara or Sinina realized it, but insulting the imminent head of the clan was tantamount to insulting the clan itself. Such was a grave offense, only rectified by spilling blood.

"Nasset." Jashin muttered in Firrerrese, just low enough for the two to hear. "Nasset dene dyre." He finished, a little louder, and firmer - for Shizune's benefit. Slowly, the pair relaxed, and Jashin turned on his heel, walking with the aide towards the meeting hall. It was odd. Suddenly he found himself taking the lead, being the diplomatic one...was it so deeply ingrained and programmed, how he acted, how he behaved around his own species? Or had it just been that long, nearly five years, since he had been around others he considered his equals? Regardless, he felt oddly at peace. No more running from his family. No more looking over his shoulder for Shizune or someone from his clan. For better or for worse - it would all be resolved. "Zalor Anneri, you are more composed than your compatriots. An admirable trait, for a human."

At their backs, Sinina spit at their feet, and spat more insults. Shizune, stiffening, began to turn around - but was stopped as Jashin forcibly took her arm, and looped it through his own; as any gentleman noble should do. Shizune, Jakk, and the Aide eyed Jashin with something close to shock at this - and ever so slightly, the group dynamic changed. The Baron, ever so subtly, had accepted his position. Or, at the least, the fact that a certain decorum would be needed in the meeting ahead. Shizune inclined her head, accepting the offer without protest, insult, or complaint. Jakk, third ranked after Shizune and Jashin, walked to the right of Jashin at his right hand, albeit about half a pace behind. The aide, keeping eyes to the ground, followed directly behind Jashin, submissive.

Slowly, they entered the meeting hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made good time to the hall itself, entering the domed room with more grace than the assembly had hoped for. Looks ranging from surprise to impassiveness greeted the small entourage, and, coming to a halt, the aide bowed to the Lord Arcturus at his head seat, before turning to address the others. "Zalor Anneri, Baron, if you will take a seat at the table. The Baroness, myself, and Lord Ryder shall take our place at branch family Deo's seat and table." In the center of the domed meeting hall, a single table with two chairs, and two glasses of water had been provided. Similarly, at each chair in the circle, similar tables had been placed - with the exception of the Patriarch's seat, who sat alone and without refreshment. More and more, this felt like a hearing than a meeting. There were, perhaps, various other reasons the Firrerre didn't want this to happen on Serenno: getting away from Serenno justice systems being among them. Moving to take his seat, Jashin, in a fit of brashness, loudly scooted the chair backwards, before kicking his feet up onto the table - knocking his own glass of water over. The Baron's impulsiveness was met with stony silence, Arcturus eventually clearing his throat and addressing the assembly.

"We begin the pronouncement ceremony, and abdication of the Patriarchy. We also begin the trial of so called and self-named "Jashin" Rau, otherwise known as Rau Drago." Began Arcturus, looking very tired and old in his chair.

"I object!" Interrupted Jashin, standing up from his chair in a rush.

"And as the Baron doesn't claim his title, we unanimously ignore your objection. You will have one chance, and one chance only for defense, Rau Drago. It will be fair and just - but you will allow us our deliberations. For you've left us with much to deliberate." Continued Arcturus, without missing a beat. "First and foremost, the witness account. Zalor Anneri, Jedi Knight...give us a protracted account of the events leading up to, and including what transpired, on Dantooine. Keep in mind your report is to one of the legally ruling bodies of Serenno."

Silence.

There was only silence. Squirming in his seat, Jashin shifted uncomfortably from side to side, a hand coming to rest on one of his weapons. In unison, the some-odd forty battle droids in the hall leveled their rifles at the man - prompting him to quickly and hastily take his hand away. Whispers filled the room, and Arcturus held his hand up, silencing the voices.

"Jakk Ryder, is this true?" Arcturus asked, wearily.

"I..." Jakk hesitated from his seat next to Shizune and - presumably - her father, a grim faced Firrerreo with graying two-toned hair. "Yes. He collaborated with the Alliance, and collected a reward after the fact - though was unable to collect due to my forcefully bringing him here." Ended Jakk lamely, looking rather nervous.

Uproar. As one, all twelve of the seated family heads raised their voices, and, visibly, Arcturus seemed to age several years - as his hand came up to massage the side of his head, shouts of "Treason!" and "Outworlder!" cried through the room. Jakk, for his part, seemed apologetic to Jashin. While Shizune, muscles working in her jaw, seemed ever so tenuously perched on either exploding or shaking to pieces.

"Silence!"

The force augmented voice of Arcturus thundered through the room, shaking the walls and cracking one of the stained glass windows in the meeting hall. Slowly, Arcturus rose from his seat, and, as one, the branch heads inclined their heads in respect. This was more tradition and protocol, however; for anger and outrage was still clear and evident on every face - even among the more moderate supporters of Arcturus. "Rau Drago...you have erred greatly." Began Arcturus, walking around behind his chair to the sheathed sword and the great flowered tapestry that was the symbol of their clan. "Long ago, our lack of neutrality, our outright contempt for the Empire and other races caused the practical extinction of our species. The Traitor and his Starcrash Brigade sent virus bombs that burst in the air, filling Firrerre's atmosphere with an incurable strain of Hive Virus. But, not before he took the adults from our planet, leaving the children on the surface. The Traitor made what remained of our race watch as the virus ate the bodies of our children, still alive, until every life on our world was dead."

Picking up the sword, Arcturus walked back around the chair, to the center of the room, unsheathing the sword. A force imbued blade, forged in the style of the Je'daii of old. the grip and pommel was of polished bamboo, the guard a durasteel patterned flower - the same marigold-like flower emblazoned on every possible surface of the room - with the blade itself a gleaming and polished silver, a faint golden aura pulsating and flowing off the sword. Flipping the blade in his hand, he drove the sword effortlessly into the ground of the hall, the preternaturally sharp sword effortlessly piercing the stone underfoot.

"Since that time, what is left of our race has settled on Kinooine and Vartholium; our ways, our traditions, our very souls live on in the few children that now exist, who number in the mere hundreds. Safeguarding our species first, then your clan, is the absolute duty of every Firrerreo that lives today. For we Firrerreo nobles, the last of the Great Clans, who have ingratiated ourselves into alien worlds' political circles, such as Serenno, that duty is even more important. We are leaders of our race, keepers of what precariously balances on annihilation. We leverage what remains of our influence to ensure that our species may continue."

Shaking his head, Arcturus slowly walked back to his seat, before slowly taking his place once again.

"But you have spat on our ways at every turn. You have abused your position of Baron, turned your back on your clan, denied your name, and violated the neutrality of one of our species' largest benefactors - Serenno. Your antics were tolerable, amusing even, as the rebellion of a young sentient who had yet to understand his place. But you took it too far, away from rebellion and into outright subversion and treason by consorting with the Alliance. Beyond this, it seems as if you have completely abandoned your life debt and promise to your father, Dante Deveaux, and in turn have even further dishonored yourself, and by extension your clan."

"I'm exiled! You can't possibly expect to hold me to -" Began Jashin, interrupting, before he himself was interrupted in turn.

"You imposed exile on yourself! At no time did the Clans our even the Houses of Serenno impose such exile on you. Again, an attempt by yourself to subvert your duty, and to besmirch your name!" Snapped Arcturus, losing patience with his grandson. "By all rights, it would be well within my ability as Patriarch and Count Sorreaux to put you to death, or otherwise imprison you indefinitely!"

That shut Jashin up. Turning slightly pale, he shrank down in his chair. The other heads as well, looked at each other nervously. Their species was few, as Arcturus had said; the death of a noble, even a flippant one, was (while just) an extreme punishment in light of their circumstances. Holding up a hand, Arcturus was silent for a long minute, before dropping it to his side.

"But the blame, equally, rests on myself as well. I have been absent for over fifty years as head of this Clan. This to, was self imposed exile. My sons, Dante and Duval, straying so far from their paths as leaders of this clan, shamed me to no end. This...cannot be changed. But the third generation, the son of Dante, and our children after this...they cannot stray. For if they do, then what is left of us? For, now I am too old, and too weak to continue a rule, even if I wanted to. Dante is ill, and Duval is embroiled in the Civil War on Serenno. I have told all here that I will abdicate, as well as deal with my grandson. So, now, I shall make my pronouncement." Arcturus paused, taking in the gazes of all assembled.

"Aumari, the sword of the clan." Arcturus intoned, gesturing with a hand to the sword in the center of the hall. "It was used by the first Rau Carta, as his personal weapon. After he died, it was passed from generation to generation - each Patriarch meditating on the blade, and imprinting his knowledge and memories into the blade. Now it is less weapon, and more repository or holocron. A Force artifact. As is tradition, each Patriarch takes hold of pommel, and enters the blade, to be taught, mentored, and otherwise judged by his predecessors. I sentence Rau Drago to take hold of the sword, and be judged and changed according to our ancestors. If he emerges, and has been judged unworthy by his predecessors, then he shall be burnt up by the blade. In such a case, I will abdicate, and allow the next in line in our family to take hold of the blade - as has not been done in over seven hundred years."

Rising, the rest of the heads stood from their seats as well. "Rau Drago will either die, or will be changed into something that will benefit this clan. If he fails, then the clan will have true and present proof that he is completely unfit, and shall be able to move on."

"I, that's a death sentence!" Spluttered Jashin, standing from his own chair - the meeting apparently over. "Throw me in prison, at least! How is 'this fair and just?'"

"The blade does not change you, so much as accelerate you down your natural path. It doesn't turn you into something you're not capable of being. If you weren't born to be a leader, then you aren't fit to live. And so, you will die." Arcturus held up a finger, staying any words from Jashin. "But, if you survive the process, and still hold onto yourself...you will gain true freedom Jashin. Freedom to lead the clan, to change your name, to reject or otherwise tell the clan to leave you alone. The clan will have no choice but to accept your verdicts. Is this not preferable?"

Arcturus did not let him finish speaking. With a motion, the battle droids raised their rifles - Jashin apparently not allowed to leave until he had gone through the ritual - and, as one, everyone but Jakk and Shizune had filed out. Indeed, Jakk could only sit at the table, completely dumbstruck. Shizune, meanwhile, stood from her chair, bounded over, and slapped Jashin across the face with enough force to send him to the floor.

"Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

"An idiot, yes, but...with heart, for sure. At least, it would seem, he now has a chance to make something of himself. A very good chance, I sense."

"Heart or not, he isn't an assassin! How can he possibly lead our clan? Have you listened to his idea of political negotiation? He'll die for sure! He has no concept of our ways." Protested Shizune, her voice trembling - mostly with anger, though, maybe, perhaps, with a tinge of worry. A hand suddenly fell on her shoulder, and she glanced at Jakk Ryder, who had suddenly appeared at her side.

"Forgive my impertinence, Baroness. But you must support your husband. There are very few people left to do that." Said Jakk apologetically, slowly removing his hand. Shizune Deo was a wild spirit, more akin to Jashin than either cared to admit: the fact they were paired together was, likely, no coincidence on the part of the elders.

A snort, and a wave, and Shizune turned around, walking away from the trio, heading for the exit. "You're all idiots. All of you." And then she was gone.

"Your destiny awaits, 'Jashin' Rau."

"Destiny, or inevitability? There's not much choice in the matter, is there?" Muttered Jashin darkly in response, as he picked himself up off the floor. Dusting himself off, he shook his head, leaning on the table, eyeing the sword. "Do you know what Jashin means? It's from an old Firrerrese root word, Ja'Sh'an. It means 'one who rebels against all'. I thought it highly appropriate." Jashin trailed off at that, before nodding at Jakk. "...Will the sword really do the things he said?" Unease was plain in Jashin's voice, and with little wonder; the Force and its abilities and machinations were utterly foreign to him. He had heard stories of the great powers of his ancestors and his father, but they were just that - stories. The sword, its glow, even its presence; Jashin could feel it, and it unnerved him greatly.

"...Yes, Baron, it will. Your father used it, and your uncle before him. Just as your grandfather used it before both of them. It is ancient, and powerful. But...it will not turn you into something you aren't. I would warn you, though, that time passes far faster within its blade than out here. A blink of an eye here could mean years within. There is also no telling who you might meet...and who your teacher might be." Jakk trailed off, nervously, distinctly not looking upon the blade in the ground. Very obviously, the blade made him nervous. Or, perhaps it was closer to say that he was afraid of it.

"So be it." Jashin said firmly, shoving off from the table. Striding towards the blade, he spoke evenly and carefully, acutely aware they might be his last. "You will marry Shizune Deo should I pass, and will inherit my title." And then he grasped the blade. His body growing rigid, his eyes lost focus, and the aura around the blade grew brighter, but, otherwise, there was no remarkable or obvious change. It seemed the man's mind was far away, in some other place; and, through the force, both blade and man seemed to disappear, a void where there once was a presence.

"You honor me, Rau Jashin." Replied Jakk to the unhearing form of Jashin. Bowing slightly to the man, he turned to Zalor, gesturing to the exit. "...Shall we depart? Times vary, but it is usually no more than twenty-four hours. When the meeting begins tomorrow, we will witness the second half of the ceremony. And the dawn of a new era for Clan Rau."

"...we can head back to the Ja'raak Inn and stay the night. On me, of course. I need to let my former employer know where I've been and that I'm okay. He's been worried about me since I left."

"That would be appreciated Zalor Anneri. The Clan is not happy with me, at the moment. It would be best if I hid out of the way. Shizune as well, will likely come with us." Said Jakk tiredly, turning to leave. He halted, though, as the Jedi came to a stop behind him.

"So...we're just gonna leave him here? Am I missing something?"

"We must not interfere. It would be a grave dishonor and personal insult to do anything more. He fights a battle in his mind; for his pride. And there is nothing, nothing more important to a Firrerreo than his pride...I would tell you more of the process, but I am not a Forceful, and do not understand it myself. Just the stories." Turning to leave once more, Jakk masked the surprise on his face at spotting Shizune leaning in the doorframe, her back to Jashin and the proceedings. Walking to her left side, the traditional side for an attendant or aide, he offered his arm, and she accepted without a word. "Baroness, I assume you heard -" He began, before being cut off.

"I heard." She said tersely. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Stiffly, she waved at the Jedi to come, and quickly. "Let's leave. I have no desire to watch him die."

*Sin had sat down, taking another drink from the bottle. She set it heavily down onto the table. Realizing just how painful it was to lift her arm. She frowns, reveling a moment in the pain, it was unlike her.
She shakes her head gently and then grabbed at her shoulder, wrenching forwards at it, and the sickening cracks of the joint being pushed back into place sounded. It hurt, and she'd bit at her lip hard to not make a sound at it. She then had to do the same style of action to fix her other wrist. She hurt, but at least she'd gathered enough control to not charge at Jashin in her rage.

She returned to her drinking. She looks over the bottle at Tanara, she could do as she liked, she wasn't in the mindset to really care or worry what the woman did. She herself was going to sit here. She took another drink from her bottle, already feeling its effects, she wasn't a drinker, heck the only other time she'd tried was when Jashin had made her breakfast.
It was then that a passerby bumped her arm causing her to miss and spill some on herself. She glares darkly at the man and curses him with vigor.*

Sur'ulur vaii gar cuyir slanar, Sheb'la.

*The tall man looked rather burly and turns to look at the young woman. THe little bit he knew of mando'a wasn't very good, but he could tell an insult when he saw one. He turned to face the little woman and snarls back at her.*

Sit down, Tiny woman.

*Sin growls at him, rising to her feet, the amount of liquid courage she'd consumed would make most things look like a good idea. She was small and had no built up tolerance. She stares darkly at the man, jabbing a finger into his chest.*

Ori luubid at hiibir a nu'nida dayn be gar ni ceta haaranovor.

"There is no testament you could have given that would have saved my husband, no matter how glowing, Zalor Anneri. He turned his back on his Clan. This is unforgivable." Shizune said, still terse. Slowing their pace, Ryder released Shizune's arm - Shizune promptly crossing her arms across her chest. Clearly she was more than a little agitated still.

"Our species is an obscure one, especially after the Firrerre Genocide; even before, though, we had no desire to venture out into the galaxy among other species. Ask what questions you may. As a Jedi, one of the few respected Outworlder orders in our species' eyes, you have unique position to learn straight from a Firrerreo as opposed to a record or text." Said Jakk cordially. Trailing behind Shizune, still on her left side, he drew near to the Jedi to better converse with him. In the interim, Shizune practically power walked in front of them, her boots stomped into the ground as if to punish it for disappointing her. In general, sentients and pedestrians alike gave her a wide birth - her gaze more than likely frightening.

"It is difficult to arrive at an exact estimate. The official census that the Republic would give you is that there are, more or less, a hundred thousand Firrerreo alive, with the population roughly split in half between the worlds of  Kinooine and Belderone - thanks to relocation efforts on the part of the Republic. In truth, not all of the Empire's sleeper ships have been found; many thousands more may still sleep in space, and still more refused to settle, instead opting to choose to wander the stars." Explained Jakk, keeping in line with Shizune's rapid pace. Ahead of them, Shizune snorted in derision, apparently listening to the conversation. Turning her head, talking over her shoulder, she maintained the brisk pace while adding to the conversation.

"The council is reticent to kill Jashin because he is the only child out of the two main family lineages - Sorreaux and Deveaux. To kill him would mean the main family would have to abdicate their position of authority, and let a branch family head lead the Clan." Coming to a stop, Shizune gestured, apparently at an intersection. "Where are we going?"