Ask The Brother's Ordo

[Baan Ordo]

Recent events in Baan's life called into question what it meant to be Mandalorian. He'd made the choice to enslave free people for profit and now when he looked in the mirror he saw a monster starring back at him. He reached down into the cool water filling in the sink and splashed his face. He couldn't wash the blood from his hands. He couldn't cleanse the pain and horror from their faces. He'd been the interloper in the night, he'd was their terror in the night.

Baan was alone on his Lancer Patrol Craft. He stepped into the main cargo hold he'd repurposed into a gym. He took his place before his Mu ren zhuang and once again began his forms. The rhythmic movements of the set allowed his mind to process the atrocities he'd done. Anger at his actions, at his desperation, at his weakness. In his attempt to find his way he'd become so far detached from who he sought to be that he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way back.

Training complete he toweled off and geared up. He stepped into his cockpit, the mottled blue conflagration of hyperspace swirled around the ship. He took his seat and at his instrumentation's urging, he pulled back on the hyperdrive. The starscape burst forth before him. Dead center sat a dessert planet. It's desolation from space made it a golden orb hanging in the vast darkness. There was a primal beauty to it. Baan felt a strange pride well up in his chest.

Planet Ordo. Homeworld of his Clan. Birthplace of Canderous, and hopefully... The place where he could finally start searching for the answers...

Baan put down in a settlement near the equator of the planet. In stark contrast to the desert of the rest of the planet, this area was relatively fertile. The town was called Cander's Rest. There was no space station, no real form of modern welcome one would find on a planet in the inner rim. It was rustic, almost as if time had forgotten it.

As he made his way down the main street, he spotted a symbol that seemed to call out to him. Tribal in nature the symbol stood out as not only a marker but as a statement. Baan turned to a passerby and pointing at the symbol said,<I'm sorry, what does that mean?>

The being, who was a species Baan didn't recognize, responded in Mando'a <It's the symbol of the clan.>

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

Ordo. It was his first visit to his true home. Sure, there was "Ordo" on New Mandalore, but...it was terribly different. His family was full of intellectuals, diplomats, businesspeople. Not warriors. Not educators. And certainly not leaders. Since joining the Death's Watch warband, he had learned much of the ways and worlds of true Mandalorians. The ways of the warrior.

His training and journeys had only inspired greater interest in his people's homeworld. Ordo...the home of many of Mandalore's greatest. Clad in his Beskar, he strode confidently down the streets of Cander's Rest. He looked to Baan, hearing his confusion in Mando'a. Apparently, he was not the only one making their first pilgrimage back home.

<It's a symbol whose meaning we have forgotten.> He spoke honestly, although curtly. While all who were Ordo knew the symbol, and plastered it everywhere, its meaning beyond being a strange collection of curved lines.

<Like so many Mandalorians...> His helm's visor shifted to the being who had responded to Baan. <Clan Ordo is guilty of repeating traditions without curiosity, investigation, or advancement. Mere repetition. None know the meaning of our most precious symbol.>

He turned his head to Baan. Perhaps he could impart a lesson, here, to the pair. <You, this is your first visit to your clan? What do you make of this - a people with no knowledge of their history, a clan with no understanding of itself?>

He imagined such statements would irritate the surrounding clansmen. Good. The truth often irritated those who lived in ignorance, the same way a bright light in a cave causes the womp rats to scatter. They deserved so much more.

@Zay

 

[Baan Ordo]

Baan turned, his bronze helmet cocking it inquisitively at the new arrival. The Mandalorian before him carried an air of superiority that was off-putting. The being who'd answered Baan's let out a soft sigh. Baan didn't respond. He let the newcomer speak deciding to see how the native of the planet felt about this being's observations.

<We of this planet and clan know What that symbols means.> He said in a quiet but firm tone.

<If you do not know, then you are not blood. You are an outsider.>

The man spit to the side then looked the newcomer's purple and white beskar'gram over disdainfully, <What would Clan Rook know of Clan Ordo? Bah, you know nothing. Go to the temple!>

The man jabbed a finger in the direction of the building adorned with the symbol in question.

<Speak to the elder if you so wish to understand, but do not insult an entire clan because of you're own ignorance.>

With a shake of his head, the older Mandalorian shuffled off. An awkward silence settled in between them.

To the armored Mandalorian Baan said, <I have a feeling they know more than they let on. Our clans aren't what they used to be, it might be more insightful to learn from these people rather than judge them.>

Baan turned from the Mandalorian and made his way to the temple.

Stepping from the harsh sun and into the dimly lit temple was a shock to the senses. Not only was it darker, but the temperature was considerably lower. Candles in alcoves lit the main passages ways and along the walls artwork of victory and defeat were scrawled across the walls. The art itself changed and shifted. It went from simple glyphs to complex murals to cultures etched directly into the stone. The artistry was breathtaking.

<Do you think this is the history of Clan Ordo?>

At the end of the corridor, the hallway expanded into a sanctum. In the center sat a Mandalorian armorer. Their helmet was shining gold as a beam of light streamed in from an opening above, and their armor shone near platinum in the light. It was clear they wore beskar in it's pure form.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

Fenyang stood silently as his assumption was proven wrong. Perhaps, in his arrogance, he had assumed that the Clan Ordo of Ordo would be as ignorant as he was towards his own history. It was a good thing to be humbled, though; knowing that these Mandalorians had a greater knowledge of self than he filled Fenyang with a sense of pride. The Mandalorians were a people deprived of their world. In its stead, they could at least have an operable knowledge of their own history.

Fenyang followed Baan, one of his carbines in hand as they walked together. Even among his people, he would keep his weapon ready. Such was the way of a hardliner, a true warrior. <I have a feeling you may be right, Brother. I was hasty in my judgement.> Fenyang reminded himself an important lesson - the patient hunter gets the prey. Great passion is needed for Mandalore, but perhaps not condescension.

His blaster lowered as the pair descended into the temple. A sign of respect towards whatever his kinsfolk considered worthy of worship. His eyes turned around the marvelous mosaic that surrounded them in the tunnel. It was masterly crafted, fusing written language in a long-forgotten script of ancient Mandalorian with complex, stylized renditions of great battles, moments, sites of power. It could be the entire cosmology of the Ordo clan, Fenyang figured. If only he could understand any of it. A feeling of pride still reverberated in his should as he walked towards the armorer - pointedly ignoring Baan's question. He had no suitable answer, so he thought it best to save their words.

<Master Armorer>, he said as he tipped his helmet. The armorers had a spiritual role in their clans, often serving as great healers of arms and guides for their people. <I am Fenyang of Ordo.> He realized that he had not yet shared his name with his compatriot. <We have come in search of knowledge, the meaning of the old Ordo symbol.>

@Zay

 

[Baan Ordo]

The Armorer's voice rang out like a hammer strike on pure besker in the temple's inner sanctum.

<You seek knowledge that is only granted to true members of this clan.>

The Armorer stood silent sizing them up. Even without being able to see pack the void of their T-visor, Baan felt as though he was being judged. His past weighed heavy on him as the moment drew out. There wasn't anything they could do, if this being turned them away he and Fenyang would be back at square one. Suddenly, he remembered a story his father used to tell him and he stepped forward.

<My name is Baan Ordo, and I seek to challenge the Trials of The Preserver.>

Canderous Ordo, in his time, faced unprecedented adversity in his ascension to Mand'alor. The trials he underwent were passed down from one generation to the next as a rite of passage for young warriors seeking to earn their chance at their Verd'goten. Long had that tradition been let go, but with a planet, as set in their ways as this one was, invoking an ancient ritual, might do the trick.

The Armorer's T-visor shifted in his direction then back to Fenyang.

<And you Fenyang, searcher of knowledge, do you seek the trials as well?>

Baan didn't look over. It was Fenyang's choice to do as he would. Baan needed this. He needed to be worthy, he needed to know he wasn't just aimlessly existing.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

Baan Ordo. A strong name. And a man who had greater knowledge of his clan than Fenyang. If this were his first visit to his homeworld, how did he have such knowledge of his clans? Fenyang began to feel the extent of his arrogance - he had come to this world expected such weak and traditionless Mandalorians as many of those bounty hunters had proven themselves to be. Instead, he found a society with its traditions in tact. Something to

<Master Armorer, Baan Ordo may be a true member of this clan, but I am not.> He would not ride off his brother's coattails. If the armorer would accept them, they would have to accept this. <I ask for a chance to prove myself in the eyes of the Clan.>

The armorer considered them for a second. By the looks (and sounds) of it, these two had wandered in here for the first times in their lives. They were both newcomers. But, they had both entered respectfully enough, and the Armorer would be begrudgingly glad to teach two of the lost Ordo their ways.

<Then a chance you shall have, Fenyang Ordo.>

A chance at being a part of his clan. Making something of his name, beyond murder and the shedding of blood. He steeled himself for the challenge ahead.

@Zay

 

[Baan Ordo]

Baan shot a sideways glance at Fenyang. He wasn't a true member, he'd just been fortunate enough to have a family steeped in tradition. His call for the trials was luck. Nonetheless, it appeared the two fledglings would take these trials together.

<On the planet of Draboon there is a small mining settlement being plagued by bandits. These miscreants have obtained an AT-DP and have pushed the civilians to their breaking point.>

The Forgemaster allowed the information to register before she said, <Your trial is one of glory. Root out and destroy these bandits. Make them wish they never stepped foot in Mandalorian space.>

Baan nodded and turned to leave, The Forgemaster said, <Baan Ordo, your armor is unacceptable. For this trial, you must be unmistakably Mandalorian.>

Baan said nothing. He'd known this would be the case. He'd hidden from who he was long enough. It was time to put on his armor. He bowed to the elder.

// DRABOON--

Baan Ordo wore his helmet, but not the rest of his armor. He couldn't bring himself to wear the rest of his grandfather's armor. It wasn't his, he didn't earn it. He wasn't really Ordo, at least not yet.

His ship set down just outside of the settlement. As he stepped out of his Lancer Patrol Craft, he spotted Fenyang's ship and headed that way. It felt good to have someone else he could trust working beside him. It felt good to be working for a goal that was deeper than go here kill this. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't the boogeyman. Well, at least not for the civilians.

Approaching Fenyang he said, <So, how you wanna do this?>

They had several options available. The Forger Master provided coordinates to the location and the name of the settlement's elder. They could start by touching base there, or they could investigate the town before. It didn't matter to him. The bandits would show eventually, he was sure. Small minds put power to quick use. If these thugs really had an AT-DP, he was positive they'd show it off soon enough.

@Fine Dining Set