Mandalore the Liberator
Feb 17th, 2014, 06:19:28 PM
Pain stabbed through the right side of Beskade Goza's skull.
It was a phantom pain, a ghost of a memory; a stray vestige of information rattling around in the damaged nerves and neurons. It had been months since the Ori'alor of the Death Watch had lanced a knife through his eye; months since Beskade had returned the favour by driving a sword through his heart. Behind the patch strung across his face, a tangled nest of scar tissue was all that remained, but there were times when his mind forgot: times when he awoke and for a few moments forgot that half his vision had been stolen; times when his body forgot to compensate for the lack of depth perception, and the effects on his balance.
Keeping those signs of weakness hidden was a crusade: a war he fought each and every day.
There were ways to circumvent the disability, of course. Modern cybernetics could repair the damaged nerves and replace his lost vision, even improve upon it if he so desired: provide him with a prosthesis that could see further, perceive a broader spectrum, interface wirelessly with computer systems, targeting sensors; they could make him better, or so the perception went. And yet Beskade had refused, even forgoing the options for any kind of cosmetic repair. He was some young upstart who thought that battle scars would prove his mettle in a way that his deeds and reputation could not: these scars were left not as a reminder to others, but as a reminder to himself, so that he would not forget what becoming Mand'alor had cost, nor forget why it was a price he had willingly paid.
Besides, the eyepatch was not without it's advantages. People misjudged those they perceived as having a disadvantage, targeting weaknesses that weren't actually there; and it did make scowling at people all the more effective, and satisfying.
His ship changed course, a wide, sweeping arc bringing the tower (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/MandalMotors_tower) into view directly ahead. The pillar of architecture that dominated this part of Keldabe's skyline had once been the headquarters of MandalMotors, Mandal Hypernautics and their various subsidiaries. Beskade had never understood the specifics of who constructed what, but it was a moot point now: what once had been the stronghold of a corporation that had helped to support and endorse the Imperial Occupation of Manda'yaim and her colonies had been cleansed, the collaborators brought to swift and bloody judgement by the new Mand'alor and his allies. It had been ruthless, not noble, and the kind of act that would have had the New Mandalorians spinning in their graves: but it was three decades too late for their philosophies to carry much weight, and even the purest pacifist hearts and minds of the Mandalorians who survived would probably welcome justice being brought against those who had poisoned their peaceful neutrality into slavery.
More, it was exactly what the Mandalorians would expect from Te Na'mirci Mand'alor: the Liberator who had uncaged his people and restored the freedom, independence, and unity that had been stolen from them.
He inclined his head slightly, a subtle bow of respect to the allik plastered across the side of the building. They had asked Mand'alor if he wanted MandalMotors' adopted emblem (http://static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20050313025526/starwars/images/3/32/Mandalmotors.png) removed, but he had decreed that it would stay. The mythosaur was a symbol embraced by all Mandalorians, and by letting it remain they were reclaiming it; and besides, there was something about the way that one eye shone with the fire of a star, the other darkened and extinguished that struck a familiar chord with Beskade. Give it enough time, and perhaps that parallel is what everyone would see when they looked up at the tower: their Liberator, watching over his people.
Beskade's Kom'rk-class transport (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kom%27rk-class_fighter/transport) - the very same craft that had helped bring him and the Death Watch home from their exile on Shedu Maad, such was the cut of his sentimentality - began it's final approach to the private airstrip of MandalMotors Tower, wings tilting backwards into landing position as the low altitude repulsorlifts kicked in. Idly, Beskade wondered if the building needed a new name; perhaps a reference to the ramikade who now populated the tower. With the Mandal corporations beheaded, it had made sense to repurpose them to help rebuild Mandalore to stability, and greatness. With so much infrastructure dedicated towards ships and warcraft, it seemed only fitting that he give control to Ona Vychladit, the Warmistress from Onderon; his Al'Ori'Ramikade. With nothing but their fleet of ships and what they contained, the tower had become their Citadel, a consulate and embassy for the offworlders on hallowed Manda'yaim soil.
It was the Akaan'alor that he was here to speak with, and he was forced to admit a certain degree of idolatry towards the woman. Before the Occupation, a young Beskade had joined the Death Watch. Like many Mandalorians, he had been raised hearing stories of the Mando'ade as crusaders, waging wars against the Jedi and their Republic allies. The peaceful friendship towards ancient foes that the New Mandalorians embraced was an insult to that legacy, and the Supercommando Codex (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Supercommando_Codex) of the so-called True Mandalorians was an echoed allusion to the past; a compromise, of beliefs and values that should have been unwavering. Of course, not even the Death Watch had been incorruptible, and Pre Vizsla's lust for the past was quickly revealed as merely lust for power, and he had been prepared to break every oath and moral to achieve it, betraying Mandalore to criminals and Sith. It was easy to forget that for all their victories and prowess as warriors, the Mandalorians had so frequently in their path found themselves slaves to the will of the Sith; after all that had transpired these last decades, Mand'alor found it hard to cling to any belief that would see the Mandalorians slaves to anything.
That was what made Vychladit and her Onderonian Mando'ade so enticing: they descended from the Neo-Crusaders (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandalorians_%28Clan_Ordo%29), their society unmarred and uncompromised by millennia of interference from the Sith and the Republic. They offered a purity of ideals that no other movement on Mandalore could offer; it was no surprise that many of the Kyr'tsade who had returned with Beskade from Shedu Maad - and many other Mando'ade who shared their enamoured opinion - had petitioned the Warmistress to join their ranks. It was for that reason that Mand'alor had made her his Al'Ori'Ramikade: why cling to the title himself, when the hearts and loyalty of so many already belonged to her?
The boarded ramp lowered, and Beskade descended with as confident a stride as he could muster, counting his steps to avoid the misfortune of reaching the duracrete sooner than expected. His armour was scuffed and worn, as any true Mandalorian's should be; it still bore the same red markings (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130203173723/theclonewiki/images/c/cc/Mandalorian-super-commando_detail.png) chosen to honour the darjetii Maul, by the Ori'alor that he had defeated on Shedu Maad. Like his halved vision, it was another reminder, this time to all who looked upon him: he was their Liberator, yes, but freedom now was no reason to forget the mistakes that had enslaved them in the first place. The spines of beskarwelded to the helmet were not the most tasteful choice, but Beskade supposed that in a way a crown of horns wasn't entirely inappropriate for the Mand'alor.
He reached for his brow, gloved hands tugging the helmet free and tucking it beneath his arm; a few more paces and he came to a halt, letting his gaze settle on the Warmistress's harshly beautiful features.
"Su cuy'gar," his voice rumbled, the traditional greeting of his people. You are still alive.
It was a phantom pain, a ghost of a memory; a stray vestige of information rattling around in the damaged nerves and neurons. It had been months since the Ori'alor of the Death Watch had lanced a knife through his eye; months since Beskade had returned the favour by driving a sword through his heart. Behind the patch strung across his face, a tangled nest of scar tissue was all that remained, but there were times when his mind forgot: times when he awoke and for a few moments forgot that half his vision had been stolen; times when his body forgot to compensate for the lack of depth perception, and the effects on his balance.
Keeping those signs of weakness hidden was a crusade: a war he fought each and every day.
There were ways to circumvent the disability, of course. Modern cybernetics could repair the damaged nerves and replace his lost vision, even improve upon it if he so desired: provide him with a prosthesis that could see further, perceive a broader spectrum, interface wirelessly with computer systems, targeting sensors; they could make him better, or so the perception went. And yet Beskade had refused, even forgoing the options for any kind of cosmetic repair. He was some young upstart who thought that battle scars would prove his mettle in a way that his deeds and reputation could not: these scars were left not as a reminder to others, but as a reminder to himself, so that he would not forget what becoming Mand'alor had cost, nor forget why it was a price he had willingly paid.
Besides, the eyepatch was not without it's advantages. People misjudged those they perceived as having a disadvantage, targeting weaknesses that weren't actually there; and it did make scowling at people all the more effective, and satisfying.
His ship changed course, a wide, sweeping arc bringing the tower (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/MandalMotors_tower) into view directly ahead. The pillar of architecture that dominated this part of Keldabe's skyline had once been the headquarters of MandalMotors, Mandal Hypernautics and their various subsidiaries. Beskade had never understood the specifics of who constructed what, but it was a moot point now: what once had been the stronghold of a corporation that had helped to support and endorse the Imperial Occupation of Manda'yaim and her colonies had been cleansed, the collaborators brought to swift and bloody judgement by the new Mand'alor and his allies. It had been ruthless, not noble, and the kind of act that would have had the New Mandalorians spinning in their graves: but it was three decades too late for their philosophies to carry much weight, and even the purest pacifist hearts and minds of the Mandalorians who survived would probably welcome justice being brought against those who had poisoned their peaceful neutrality into slavery.
More, it was exactly what the Mandalorians would expect from Te Na'mirci Mand'alor: the Liberator who had uncaged his people and restored the freedom, independence, and unity that had been stolen from them.
He inclined his head slightly, a subtle bow of respect to the allik plastered across the side of the building. They had asked Mand'alor if he wanted MandalMotors' adopted emblem (http://static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20050313025526/starwars/images/3/32/Mandalmotors.png) removed, but he had decreed that it would stay. The mythosaur was a symbol embraced by all Mandalorians, and by letting it remain they were reclaiming it; and besides, there was something about the way that one eye shone with the fire of a star, the other darkened and extinguished that struck a familiar chord with Beskade. Give it enough time, and perhaps that parallel is what everyone would see when they looked up at the tower: their Liberator, watching over his people.
Beskade's Kom'rk-class transport (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kom%27rk-class_fighter/transport) - the very same craft that had helped bring him and the Death Watch home from their exile on Shedu Maad, such was the cut of his sentimentality - began it's final approach to the private airstrip of MandalMotors Tower, wings tilting backwards into landing position as the low altitude repulsorlifts kicked in. Idly, Beskade wondered if the building needed a new name; perhaps a reference to the ramikade who now populated the tower. With the Mandal corporations beheaded, it had made sense to repurpose them to help rebuild Mandalore to stability, and greatness. With so much infrastructure dedicated towards ships and warcraft, it seemed only fitting that he give control to Ona Vychladit, the Warmistress from Onderon; his Al'Ori'Ramikade. With nothing but their fleet of ships and what they contained, the tower had become their Citadel, a consulate and embassy for the offworlders on hallowed Manda'yaim soil.
It was the Akaan'alor that he was here to speak with, and he was forced to admit a certain degree of idolatry towards the woman. Before the Occupation, a young Beskade had joined the Death Watch. Like many Mandalorians, he had been raised hearing stories of the Mando'ade as crusaders, waging wars against the Jedi and their Republic allies. The peaceful friendship towards ancient foes that the New Mandalorians embraced was an insult to that legacy, and the Supercommando Codex (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Supercommando_Codex) of the so-called True Mandalorians was an echoed allusion to the past; a compromise, of beliefs and values that should have been unwavering. Of course, not even the Death Watch had been incorruptible, and Pre Vizsla's lust for the past was quickly revealed as merely lust for power, and he had been prepared to break every oath and moral to achieve it, betraying Mandalore to criminals and Sith. It was easy to forget that for all their victories and prowess as warriors, the Mandalorians had so frequently in their path found themselves slaves to the will of the Sith; after all that had transpired these last decades, Mand'alor found it hard to cling to any belief that would see the Mandalorians slaves to anything.
That was what made Vychladit and her Onderonian Mando'ade so enticing: they descended from the Neo-Crusaders (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandalorians_%28Clan_Ordo%29), their society unmarred and uncompromised by millennia of interference from the Sith and the Republic. They offered a purity of ideals that no other movement on Mandalore could offer; it was no surprise that many of the Kyr'tsade who had returned with Beskade from Shedu Maad - and many other Mando'ade who shared their enamoured opinion - had petitioned the Warmistress to join their ranks. It was for that reason that Mand'alor had made her his Al'Ori'Ramikade: why cling to the title himself, when the hearts and loyalty of so many already belonged to her?
The boarded ramp lowered, and Beskade descended with as confident a stride as he could muster, counting his steps to avoid the misfortune of reaching the duracrete sooner than expected. His armour was scuffed and worn, as any true Mandalorian's should be; it still bore the same red markings (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130203173723/theclonewiki/images/c/cc/Mandalorian-super-commando_detail.png) chosen to honour the darjetii Maul, by the Ori'alor that he had defeated on Shedu Maad. Like his halved vision, it was another reminder, this time to all who looked upon him: he was their Liberator, yes, but freedom now was no reason to forget the mistakes that had enslaved them in the first place. The spines of beskarwelded to the helmet were not the most tasteful choice, but Beskade supposed that in a way a crown of horns wasn't entirely inappropriate for the Mand'alor.
He reached for his brow, gloved hands tugging the helmet free and tucking it beneath his arm; a few more paces and he came to a halt, letting his gaze settle on the Warmistress's harshly beautiful features.
"Su cuy'gar," his voice rumbled, the traditional greeting of his people. You are still alive.