Down Comes the Rain

Jango's Grunts

As Jaster's Legacy breached atmo, Jango sat numbly whilst Silas read out the list of clans now sending aide.

"Kriff, Jango," Silas gasped excitedly. "Apparently the old merchant vessels are embarking now as well. From Little Keldabe to Ord Mantell – hell, even that small Beroya Clan from Mygeeto are heading this way. According to intel, the citizens of Keldabe, Sundari, Suzanna and Deep Fort are building huge refugee camps just outside of the dorms, and get this," Silas turned the holopad excitedly in Jango's direction.

"Over a thousand ships from concord dawn alone have been 'visibly seen' exiting the mines. Even the old Kryze warships have left berth."

"You're joking." Chokes Tork. Eyes wide, helmet clasped tightly in their hands. "You're joking, no way."

"Apparently," mumbles Jango. "Nothing gets Mando's going more than kids."

"Too right!" Affirmed Jura with a grin, kiffar markings stretching along his plastoid vambraces. "Can you believe it? Terk'ha said over nine hundred galactic Mando'ade houses are taking part – even the Naasades! That makes it one of the biggest single moves by any Manda'lor in history!"

"Not 'one of'" interjects one of the Kalevalen Teachers. "It is. One of the many reasons I left for Odro was I'm not allowed to teach old Mandalorian History officially. And now," she grins, near human pink skin crinkling in delight. "I'm going to be part of it forever. I don't care what we see down there, or how it ends. Your Buir just remade Mandalore as it should be, Alor'ika Fett. I hope you know that."

Every Verd there can see the pride in his eyes as he grins. "Course I do. Besides, apparently that ship that knocked the asteroid turned this way because of what we were broadcasting to Manda'yaim."

"Didn't they also turn because Eterra let out a distress signal?" Asked Tork Kryze. "I'm impressed. I've looked into what they have to offer tech wise, and getting a signal even as far as Hutt space is incredible for a planet as underdeveloped as this." Tork's face is alive with curiosity. "I'd be amazed from anyone else, but I'm honestly not surprised clan Dawar defected from Kyr'tsaad."

Jango used to jump every time someone said the name in Mando'a, but he's lenient with Tork, who never got to speak their language in the safety of their own home.

"Yeah, Alor Dawar never seemed the type to bow to Viszla." Remarked Silas. "I'm glad she chose better."

Jango frowns. "How many clans are we about to have on world by tonight?"

Silas turns back to his holopad and the carrier shakes in turbulence. Apparently, Red Spring's Air Strip just hailed them to land on something called the 'tarmac.' "Something like a few thousand. Not many Old Clans came on the Redeemer, but apparently quite a few are headed our way. Clan Wren not the least of which. Oh, apparently House Fett proper just got blindsided by the Vhetts Clan."

Jango blinks. "I... honestly didn't know there was one. What are they bringing?"

Silas makes a couple of taps, before sitting back in shock.

"...A dozen Ship carriers."

"What."

"They... They're only a third of the size of the Redeemer, but that's still a good couple hundred light carriers per ship. Heck, apparently the Duke's ship, the Canto Fortuna, is emptying itself of 'unnecessary cargo' at Saulucaemi."

Tork wheezes. "He's sending..." they cough, the light carrier grumbling as it begins to engage its landing gear upon the Red Spring's landing precinct. "The fucking Canto Fortuna? How in the fuck did he realise I'm with you-"

They slapped a hand over their mouth, staring at Jango in alarm.

"...You're telling us about that later," decides Jango. "But your Cin Vhetin still counts, I don't give a shit what the New Mando's think."

Tork's smile is very sweet, and very pretty as the ramp slams onto the desert sands.

(The red dirt, and their hair, is the same startling shade of blood.)