The Battle Cry, High Orbit above Ophidian VI
The contemporary Mandalorian Clans chose the locations of their coverts primarily from one of two options. The first was to find remote locations on the Outer Rim; Nevarro, Tatooine, Hoth, and the like. Upon these worlds, the covert would set up as a place for Mandos to rest, recuperate, and reconnect with their Clan before going back out into the Galaxy to find more work. The second was what Clans like Mharal did. Their covert was a ship, specifically a Sundari-class light cruiser. The Battle Cry was a heavily armed and armored craft, capable of housing more than three-thousand people at full capacity. The sad fact of the matter was that was more than enough room to house the remnants of Clan Mharal.
Several vessels, including the Kath Hound, were docked at various points on the Battle Cry's belly. Others remained in geosynchronous orbit around the Sundari-class.
The interior of the Battle Cry was bright and beautiful. Almost every single wall throughout the entire ship had been turned into a mural over the years, many of them painted by Jodihan herself. Music, much of it recorded by members of the Clan, played softly through speakers in the common spaces. Much of the ship was crewed by droids, but any sapients serving aboard were members of Clan Mharal. That did not mean they were part of the Mharin belief system, but the ship was an estuary where the already hazy division between the two grew even more blurred.
In the heart of the ship, there was a circular chamber with four rows of tiered seating. Originally, it was meant to be a place where the vessel's captain could address all their officers at once. Mando'a script was inscribed around each tier, repeating the Six Actions. In the center of the space was a dais that held whomever stood upon just above the lowest tier.
At present, every seat in the room was full, with yet more people standing behind those seated at the fourth tier. To the unlearned it looked like a lot, but it was a fraction of the Clan's strength before the Night of A Thousand Tears.
Cazur, Kavala, Stroyh, and Hylt all stood at the foot of the dais. Like the onlookers, they wore their beskar'gam, helmets clipped at their sides. Cazur himself was shifting around with nervous energy. He felt like the lights overhead were extra glaring for some reason. Even so, it felt good to look around and see so many of his Clan. It was a needed reminder; Clan Mharal was still holding on, regaining strength, and remembered their honor to answer their chief's call.
The door to the audience chamber opened. Jodihan entered the room. The gravitas of the chief of Clan Mharal silenced everyone.
Jodihan was seven and a half feet tall. Where scarring didn't prevent its growth, she was covered in fur that was as black as the space between the stars. Though her movements were somewhat slow and ponderous, there was a certain inevitability in every step. Her beskar'gam was a solid jade green, her gauntlets and boots shaped to accommodate the retractable claws all togorians possessed. Cazur knew that Jodihan had ordered beskar sheathes to be made for and grafted to her claws, and had witnessed her using them to literally rip a stormtrooper in half.
Jodihan stepped atop the dais. A gold-painted helmet was held under her arm. The togorian cleared her throat.
"Today we are gathered for the most important purpose that currently remains to the Mando'ade." Jodihan's growling voice belied the solemn happiness Cazur knew was their. "Foundlings are our future, now more than ever. It has been my honor to welcome almost everyone in this room into our Clan over the course of my long, some would say too long, life."
A bout of snickering passed around the room, causing Jodihan's fangs to be revealed in a smile.
"The path of every foundling is different." Jodihan went on. "I have known some that do not earn their armor for decades. I have met two different Mando'ade who would have been brought into the fold on the very day they met someone in our Clan if it were possible to craft a suit of beskar'gam so quickly. Today, we welcome one who has served alongside a crew of our kin for half a year, proving herself at every turn. Let us welcome her now", the togorian raised her voice, "Zej'ika! Enter, and be presented to the Clan."
The doors opened. Zej strode into the room. Gone was her usual dark jumpsuit. Instead, she wore a suit of beskar'gam that had been painted gold, trimmed with deep violet. Zej's amber eyes flicked back and forth uncertainly, like she was expecting someone in the room to chastise or deny her. It was a brief flash of the Zej that Cazur had known when she'd first joined the crew; uncertain, scared, and bereft of confidence. When the twi'lek saw the rest of the Kath Hound's crew waiting for her, she stood a bit straighter, walking with more confidence. Cazur heard Kavala sniffle beside him. He patted his little sister's shoulder.
"This is thanks to you more than anyone else, ika'vod." Cazur said quietly. And he meant it. Teaching someone a language in so short a time was no small feat.
"Shut up, I'm already crying." Kavala retorted with a whisper and a soft chuckle, wiping her eyes.
Zej surmounted the dais and stood before Jodihan.
"Kneel, Zej'ika." Jodihan bid.
Zej did so.
"Do you swear to abide by the Resol'nare?" Jodihan asked.
"As if they were my life and breath." Zej gave the ritual response.
"Do you swear your life to the Mando'ade and the Manda'lor?"
"If our people call, I will answer. If our people hurt, I will aid them. If our people fight, I will join them."
"Do you swear your life to Clan Mharal?"
"Mharal's enemies are my enemies, their friends are my friends, their honor is my honor."
Jodihan gave a single nod.
"And who will speak for this individual that would call herself Mharal?" The togorian asked.
Cazur took a step forward onto the first stair of the dais. "I will speak for her, Clan Chief."
"Do her deeds make her worthy of our name?" Jodihan asked.
This part of the ceremony did not have a traditional script. Zej looked over at him, still kneeling.
"I have watched her face great odds without fear and aid in our triumph. I have seen her give herself to all on our crew without any expectation of recompense or recognition. I have seen what lies in her heart and I know, without a doubt, that she will strengthen Mharal." Cazur said, then clacked his fist against his breastplate. "Aliit ori'shya tal'din." He concluded. Family is more than blood.
"Oya!" Hylt, Stroyh, and Kavala said, striking their own breastplates, indicating that they agreed with Cazur's words and stood behind his sponsoring Zej's full adoption into the Clan.
Another nod from Jodihan. "Is there anyone present who would deny the name of Mharal to this woman? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."
No one in the chamber spoke.
Jodihan raised the gold-painted helm high.
"Then, by my right as Chieftain of Clan Mharal, I declare that Zejephone Alacra is no more." Jodihan lowered the helm, offering it to Zej. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad." I know you as my child.
Zej accepted the helm with visible reverence. Cazur felt pride swell in his breast.
"Rise." Jodihan bade.
Zej did so, standing tall.
"It is my honor to be the first to introduce Zejephone Mharal, Clan-sister of Mharal!" Jodihan declared. "Oya!"
"OYA!" The cheer went around the room, followed by applause that echoed loudly through the enclosed space.
Zej clipped her new helmet to her belt, looking to Cazur with a huge smile on her face. Before the zabrak could offer congratulations Zej had already run down the stairs, hugging Cazur close. Laughing joyously, Cazur wrapped his arms around Zej and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around as applause continued to fill the room. One by one, Zej squeezed the other members of the Kath Hound's crew, all of whom were responsible for where she was now for reasons great and small.
After an appropriate amount of time, Jodihan raised her hands to quiet the gathered Clan.
"There is a second order of business we must attend to, one that is far more grave than this joyous occasion." Jodihan said.
The Mandos of Clan Mharal quieted down, listening to their chieftain.
"Cazur has informed us that a certain Duke Zanebos of Ryloth has wronged our Clan in two ways." Jodihan informed them. "First of all, he has threatened the entire Clan, said in no uncertain terms that he will hunt us and kill us. That alone is something we cannot abide." Jodihan shook her head. "But the second reason is even worse. He harbors a dar'manda. Not just any dar'manda, however; Zanebos keeps none other than Kroeth Skirr in his retinue, the killer of our dear Clan-sister Ixi and her Muse, Na're."
This prompted a series of curses and invectives from the gathered Clan members. All knew Kroeth's name. All kept eyes out for him in their travels, hoping for the chance to right the wrong that had been done to the Clan.
"We will not go about business as usual waiting to be attacked by these aruetti." Jodihan snarled, clenching a fist before her. "We will do what our enemy will not expect. We will gather our full strength", she put her fist in the air, "and we will strike the first blow! We will descend from the sky, lay waste to whatever feeble protections this Duke of Dawn has gathered about him, and show the Galaxy that the day where a Mando can be threatened with impunity has not yet come!"
The cheers that followed this statement were tinged by anger, full of bloodthirst and outrage. Clan Mharal banged their fists upon their armor and called out oaths against Kroeth and Zan.
"Who among you will join me in righting this wrong?" Jodihan asked them in her raised voice.
I WILL, they all cried, each trying to be heard.
"Who among you will carry the honor of our Clan?!" Jodihan asked further.
Cazur felt his own throat going raw as he bellowed his dedication along with the rest of Mharal.
"Mharal, Our Mother!" Jodihan cried.
"MHARAL, OUR MOTHER!" Came the thundering reply.
And with that, Clan Mharal was on the war path.
Ophidian VI was an impressive gas giant with vibrant bands of emerald green and ruby red across its surface. There were colossal storms of black clouds breaking up these colors that were large enough to fit two or three iterations of the world of Mandalore within them.
Cazur found Zej on the Battle Cry's observation deck, looking down upon Ophidian VI through floor-to-ceiling windows with her arms crossed. He had just barely caught the twi'lek slipping away from the celebration that was being held in her honor. Around them, the observation deck was full of storage crates. The Clan had to make use of every square foot available to them aboard the Battle Cry.
"Not used to being the center of attention, I take it." Cazur said, carrying a bottle of tihaar with him.
"Definitely not. But that's alright. Sorry if I've offended anyone." Zej said quietly.
The twi'lek looked away from her reverie. Cazur had always found her to be beautiful, but there was something about seeing her in full beskar'gam that spoke to him.
"You haven't. The tihaar's been flowing enough that no one's too worried about what the party's about anymore." Cazur said with a laugh. "That armor…it suits you."
"I can't help but agree." Zej said, inspecting her own gauntleted hand.
"I don't want to disturb you if you want to be alone…" Cazur added before he went any further into the room.
One side of Zej's mouth quirked up in a half-grin.
"You'd disturb me more if you left." Zej said.
Cazur's heart fluttered. He approached her, offering Zej the bottle.
A long time passed as the two of them shared a comfortable silence, slowly draining the tihaar. Cazur was in no hurry to force conversation. Right where he was, standing beside Zej…that was a place he could get used to being.
"Zejephone Mharal." The twi'lek eventually said as she took a pull from the almost empty bottle.
"How does it feel?" Cazur asked.
Zej passed the bottle back. "It feels like…I'm where I belong for the first time in my life."
Cazur took a drink as well, considering what to say next.
Zej, surprisingly, took a step closer, now less than a foot away from Cazur.
"But that's not the only place I belong." Zej said.
"Oh? Where else?" Cazur asked her.
He barely had time to set the tihaar on a crate as Zej threw her arms around his neck. She gazed into his eyes. Time seemed to freeze for Cazur, stretching out unnaturally. He almost made a very stupid joke about wondering if the hyperclock was having some lingering effects on them.
"Right here." Zej finally whispered. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." I will know you forever. It was the Mando equivalent of "I love you."
Cazur brushed one of her lekku back over her shoulder.
"Cyar'ika?" Cazur murmured. Beloved.
"Yes?" Zej's voice almost cracked.
"May I kiss you?" Cazur asked.
"The sooner, the better." Zej said.
Cazur leaned in. Their lips met. It was a clumsy, eager, blissful moment. It only ended when Cazur pulled back with a gasp, realizing he had forgotten to keep breathing. Zej and he both stared for a moment.
Then the two of them were laughing, holding each other close, their foreheads resting against each other. Cazur could not recall a time when he had been so happy. A great battle loomed ahead, yes, as did another conflict with his most hated enemy. None of that mattered right now. Nothing about any tomorrow was guaranteed. Cazur allowed himself to hold onto today's joy, and that joy was named Zejephone Mharal.