The double doors to the Grand Chamber stood closed before him. Zxyl hesitated before them, unsure of what to do. Anything could wait inside.

It had come to him out of the blue and was signed only with the Clan symbol-- that ever so familiar Crescent, Claw, and Star. He’d thought that was queer; messages were always signed by its authorized sender. The Consul, the Rollmaster, the Quaestor, hells-- himself as the Proconsul. There was always an ID line and were usually accompanied by some inspirational motto that meant something meaningful to them. Here was none of that. Just a short message summoning him to the Grand Chamber at this time and the clan emblem.

He’d donned the helmet that many identified with him as it was the only thing they saw of him. Such was the way of the Mandolorians. Present now before the great wooden doors he wondered if he’d come underprepared. Anything could wait inside. Was he to be attacked and assassinated? It was unusual in Taldryan but not unheard of. He’d made enemies and certainly had rivals jealous of his upward movement. The face of a green skinned Twi’lek flashed through his mind momentarily before he put that aside. The Director of Clan Intelligence was certainly the type but he was more at odds with the Consul and had proven his willingness to overthrow one insufficient, in his view, to the task. Was it Erinyes herself that waited on the other side? She’d given no indication that she was overly displeased with his work. Perhaps he was to be awarded on the other side of these doors. That too seemed unlikely; he’d been promoted not too long ago and hadn’t done anything of considerable note meriting an award that would be presented in the Grand Chamber. Try as he might his mind kept coming up blank and that worried him. He moved forward and made to press the doors open with his gauntleted hands but startled when they parted before him noiselessly. He knew there was no mechanism attached to the doors and he could not see, as he passed through them, anyone pulling them open. His skin prickled. The Force.

The Grand Chamber was an immense room reserved for the Clan’s gatherings and most important ceremonies: The Enthronement of the Consul, Sacrificial Award Ceremonies, State Funerals and the like. Zxyl knew it to be nearly two hundred meters long and usually well lit so that the attendees could see the banners of Clan military units, the captured flags and crests of defeated enemies, and the displayed trophies of the Clan’s history. It was dark right now though, lit only at distant intervals by fired pairs of embraziers down the centerline of the room. The shadows clung to the walls and corners of the chamber and gave it an oppressive quality. He clicked out a command with his teeth and blinks of his eye to activate the night vision mode of his helmet. The room should have revealed itself almost as if the lights had been turned on but nothing happened… The shadows were still there and the room was still filled with darkness. He clicked out a different command and then another, cycling through different view modes, but nothing worked. Again the thought gave him a chill: The Force.

With his hand poised on the handle of his blastor at his hip he advanced slowly down the center aisle of the chamber towards the first pair of embraziers. His arm was tensed, ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. He still wasn’t sure what he would encounter here but it was best not to be caught with his guard down. That had kept him alive so far. As he approached the embraziers he could feel their heat even through his armor and the body glove he wore beneath it.

From somewhere unseen a voice of a man bellowed out preternaturally loud, “Who approaches?” Zxyl was caught off-guard momentarily but recognized the ceremonial element of the question and his gun hand relaxed, “Proconsul Zyxl Venzos!”

He waited but nothing followed so he proceeded forward a few dozen meters to the next pair of embraziers, penetrating further into the darkness of the room. As he approached the second pair another voice called out, “What Clan do you serve?” “Clan Taldryan”, he replied with strength in his voice.

Again nothing happened so he continued onward approaching the third pair. A third voice boomed unseen from the enveloping darkness, “What Clan would you sacrifice everything for?” Awareness of what was happening began to dawn over him and his heart began to thud in his chest. He took a moment and considered the question with care before answering firmly, “Clan Taldryan!”

He walked forward with a confident stride towards the final pair of embraziers. He knew he must be somewhere towards the back of the chamber by now. As he drew level with them it was as though a veil was lifted and the shadows retreated. Before him were revealed a semi-circle of five hooded and robed men who stood solemnly with their bare hands clasped before them right-over-left. The Proconsul noticed that each wore a distinctive silver ring. He stopped before him and tried, without appearing to do so, to see under the hoods that obscured their faces. The figure at the center unclasped his hands and pulled the hood from his head revealing the face of Telaris Cantor. As if by some signal the remaining four followed suit. The Fist of the Brotherhood, Justinios Drake, and the Master-at-Arms Howlader stood to the Grandmaster’s right. On his left Zxyl saw Rian Aslar and Vodo Biask.

The Grandmaster was the first to speak, “We welcome you Zyxl Venzos. You are summoned here to be inducted into the rolls of the Sons and Daughters of Taldryan. Kneel.”

Zyxl did so without realizing it fully.

Justinios smiled wryly before saying, conspiratorially, “It would be customary in this situation to remove your mask.” “I-- cannot”, Zxyl said but knew that had been the wrong answer as soon as he’d said it. Rian spoke now, “You are to become our Brother. Among the Taldrya there are no secrets, no betrayals.”

The men before him waited. Zxyl wrestled with a lifetime’s admonitions and strictures telling him that a Mandalorian never removed his helmet in sight of outsiders. He considered what the former Consul had said though and knew it to be true. The Taldrya formed the heart of the Clan and were entirely dedicated to it. If he were to become one of them their ways would take primacy over that of his adopted people. His hands rose hesitantly to the rim that nestled around his neck and pried the close fitting piece of Beskar off his head revealing his own face, that of a man in the full of his strength. He was handsome with defined features and a neatly groomed beard only slightly ruffled by its time within the helmet.

The Grandmaster smiled, pleased, “To be a Taldrya is to accept ownership of the Clan. It is not the ownership of one who possesses a thing and enjoys the use of it but rather that of one who understands and accepts the responsibility for its health, its well-being, safety, upkeep, and success. To take the Clan name is to stand as an exemplar to the entire Brotherhood what it means to be a Taldryanite. Your victories and your failures will be Taldryan’s but so too will Taldryan’s victories and failures be yours. Do you understand?”

Zxyl took a deep breath and nodded, “I do.” “Then rise, Brother, as a Son of Taldryan”, the Grandmaster motioned for him to take to his feet. Rian, Vodo, and Howlader intoned as one, “Welcome, Brother”. Waiting until the others had spoken and the Proconsul had retaken his feet Justinios called out to him with a jauntier, slier tone, “Welcome, Brother.”

This caught Zxyl’s attention and he looked at the FIST just in time to see the man lazily toss something small at him. He snatched it from the air with his left hand and played it around in his hand so that he could bring it before his face and see what it was. It was a silver ring with a solid band that gracefully curved upward to bear a wide flat circled face. It was inlaid with a mirror-polished jet black stone and gems of purple, red, and blue colors bearing the crest of Clan Taldryan. He stared at it and the Crescent, Star, and Claw stared back at him. He removed the gauntlet from his right hand and slipped the signet ring, perfectly fit, over his middle finger.

---

It is with immense pride and honor that I announce the induction of our newest member into the Sons and Daughters of Taldryan! My troublesome Apprentice and friend of many years, commonly known as Noobis, has proven to the Taldrya his steadfastness, his dedication, and his sacrifice to our Clan. He epitomizes those qualities we believe represent our unit in all things. He is friendly, helpful, hard working, skilled, and above all else: Loyal.

This recognition has been a long time coming, held back only by some foolish Clan hopping many years ago as he sought to taste the various flavors the Brotherhood’s other Clans have to offer before returning home to that which pleases, and suits him, best. He stands as an example of what all Taldryanites should aspire to be. As I mentioned in my fiction though, to take the Clan name is not an honor that confers privilege but rather responsibility. From this time forth he will find himself busied with the affairs and well-being of Taldryan. He will advise its Summits, he will guide its members, and continue at all times to represent the Clan to whom he has dedicated so much of himself. I’m so proud of you, Bud. Congratulations. On behalf of all the Taldrya: welcome to the club at long last!

May the Fourth Be With You ~His Excellency Vodo Biask Taldrya Son of Taldryan