Chapter 3: Women

Phystte turned and left, the smirk leaving a lasting imprint on his mind along with her comment of finding better things than fighting to do with him. Torian couldn't seem to make heads or tails of her. When they'd first met on Dromand Kaas, the Hunter had been aloof. She hadn't shown any concern for him or the Mandalorians. However, when he saw her on Taris she appeared overtly interested in him, but shortly after he realized that she was only using her femininity to her advantage. Phystte had given him permission to board her ship, join her crew, but he still felt on some level that she was just toying with him with all her flirtatious remarks. They were welcome, of course. He wasn't the type of man to turn away the affections of a pretty woman, but he couldn't rightly decipher whether Phystte was truly interested in him that way, or if this was just a game she played.

Shaking his head, he turned about and began working on the armor crafting assignment she'd given him. The Hunter certainly didn't waste any time putting him to work. He didn't complain though, after all Phystte put herself to work the moment she boarded the ship. Torian was certain that her right-hand, that little tech assistant Mako, could navigate and pilot the ship if need be, or at the very least, make ready the systems for take-off. But Phystte always took that duty upon herself. Like clockwork she'd board and check with the crew to make sure everyone was ready for space-flight, then head up to the cock-pit and start the systems check. He'd gotten used to that after the first three planet-side operations and figured piloting must be one of the things she really enjoyed.

That was about the only routine thing about his new commander though. Her moods were as shifty as an ion storm though he had to admit it fitting since he thought of her as being just as beautiful. She had a brilliant smile that could charm the creds off a hutt, if she'd ever use it, and an intimidating scowl with matching threatening blasters that were even more convincing, which were her weapon of choice. She got into more scrapes in a day than he did in a week, which he couldn't help but enjoy since it gave him constant opportunities to test himself in battle. But the crew never knew when a job was going to make her happy or set her off. So far it seemed that when she liked her employers, chances were they would be celebrating after a job, but that wasn't always a guarantee. Even with her inconsistencies and his preference for dependability, Torian felt drawn to her though. He'd felt it back on Dromand Kaas even.

Phystte was different than the Mandalorian women he knew – hot-headed, unsympathetic, and brusque, though he had seen glimpses of unexpected kindness in her, moments that were both rare as well as a struggle for her. He got the feeling that she hadn't received much compassion in her own life and so learned to work hard for what she wanted, even if the work was grueling or cruel. The question was, now that she was a Champion of the Great Hunt, what did she want now? Certainly taking down a mark wasn't the only thing that drove her. He vaguely wondered if that was why she teased him so much, if he had somehow become something… someone she wanted. Torian wondered just how hard Phystte would work to get him. He cracked a grin at that thought, then suddenly frowned realizing he wasn't much of a prize for any woman in Mandalorian standards let alone the Champion of the Great Hunt.

His thoughts of what to do to change that were interrupted by Phystte's chirpy partner. Upon seeing her round the stairwell, Torian wondered vaguely how these two vastly different women ended up together. Phystte didn't seem the type to take young girls under her wing, and Mako certainly didn't seem like bounty hunter material. He'd heard mention that they were partners at the beginning of the Great Hunt, but how they ended up working together was a mystery to him. He continued working until Mako had reached him and perched herself up on the workbench, the hints of a smile touching the corners of her mouth.

"Su cuy'gar. Need something?" Torian asked non-committally, uncertain of Mako's intentions. The first time he boarded the ship she didn't stop smiling at him the entire time she gave him the tour, which at first started to make him uncomfortable. At least until he realized that Mako wasn't smiling at him in an attempt to court him so much as she was smiling like she knew some big secret about him that he didn't. At which point he felt more annoyed when she gave him that cheeky grin than uneasy about what it meant.

"Just thought I'd see how you were doing," Mako started, trying to act nonchalant, though it didn't much work. She might be a great slicer, but she could never pull off being a spy. "You haven't talked much with the rest of us since you came on board."

"Not much to say," he admitted.

"Uh-huh. Unless you're talking to Phystte, that is," Mako teased. When he didn't reply to her remark she went on. "I think you like her."

"Ret. Shouldn't I?" Torian said with a shrug. He was fond of being near her, she stirred him in more ways than one, but to confess out loud to actually liking her was another matter, especially to her right-hand who would no doubt scurry off after this conversation and divulge all she had learned about him to Phystte herself. Torian was already fairly certain he did like the Hunter, but he'd be keeping that to himself until he could be certain about how she felt about him.

Mako huffed at his answer. "Of course you should… well, at least enough to work with her. So, do you like her?"

"Ret."

"What does that even mean?" Mako asked, not bothering to cover the frustration in her voice. She stood up off the bench now and crossed her arms over her chest while wearing what Torian thought was probably her best impression of Phystte's scowl on her face. Mako's features and personality were far too adorable for it to be effective on her though. Besides, Torian was sure that the scars around Phystte's eyes and the tattoos to cover the worst of them lent more severity to her glare than the expression alone. As it was, Mako's unblemished and youthful face made it much easier to not take her seriously.

"Means 'maybe'," Torian supplied, not bothering to look up from his work to see if her scowl went away.

"Maybe yes or maybe no?" Mako inquired further, the curiosity in her voice grating on Torian's nerves now. Why did she want to know in the first place? Did Phystte send her down to question him on his motives? No, she could easily have asked him herself just a short while ago if she'd wanted to know. He could only guess that Mako simply wondered how he felt about the Hunter because she was her partner.

"Just 'maybe'," he answered, looking up this time with a faintly severe grimace to show her he wasn't going to give anything away. If he could discourage the tech from asking any more questions about this he would, but only amiably. He didn't need some angry young girl after him. Mako's brows pursed down in scrutiny for a brief moment before she stiffened and tilted her chin up in indignation.

"Fine," she replied. He worked silently while she watched for a few minutes and he heard her sigh in defeat finally. Obviously, she was hoping that by just standing there, she'd change his mind somehow. Shaking his head slightly at what was seemingly more and more Phystte's little sister, he held a finished bracer in his hand and tapped it squarely with the metal mallet, noting with satisfaction that the piece was sound. Torian set it aside just as Mako hopped back onto the work bench, her perch now just as perky as the first time she set down. Apparently, she didn't stay angry for very long. Probably a good thing for him, he noted. "Alright, be that way. But if you do like her, I am going to find out."

It sounded more like a promise than a threat and Torian snorted something beneath his breath. Mako smirked at that, not a victory smile but something along the lines of at least feeling more satisfied now. "So, Gault says that Mandalorians have a special code they have to live by or they can't be Mandalorians anymore," Mako started back up conversationally as she changed the subject.

"Gar serim. The resol'nare, six actions. As long as a Mando lives his life by the resol'nare, he can call himself a Mandalorian," Torian recited. So far he could rightfully claim five of those six, though the last wouldn't technically be required of him until he had young of his own. Even so, he did his best to educate the youth in his clan of their responsibilities when he was at home. Mako waited for him to go on, but he didn't elaborate. Instead of asking what those actions were like he expected though, she asked him something else.

"So Jicoln, your… father… did he break your code or something? Is that why he was on the Blacklist?"

The question was innocent enough and Torian assumed that these familial questions stemmed from Mako's own renewed interest in the fact that she may have a family out there looking for her. From what he'd gathered, she'd already had a strange brush with a sister named Coral which left her with more questions than answers. Unfortunately he didn't have any hopeful tales for her about family togetherness. Most of Clan Cadera had stayed with the Mandalorians under Mandalore's protection, but that didn't lessen the dishonor they felt when Jicoln left to help the Republic and took with him many other Mandos from various clans. The fact that Jicoln was a friend to Mandalore made the cut that much deeper. Torian frowned.

"Elek. He betrayed us, betrayed Mandalore. I vowed one day I would find him and make him pay for that. Guess it was luck that you and Phystte found me first. Looking back, I'm not sure I could have taken him on my own."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mako agreed. "She said… that you were the one to kill him."

"Did what I had to. You will too, whatever happens," Torian added, leaving it open. Mako would make what she would of it and he for one hoped that whatever happened between her and her family, whether for good or ill, she would have the strength to do what needed to be done in the end. As difficult as it was for him to execute his father, he was proud to have been the one to do it. Then again, Mako wasn't Mandalorian, so he couldn't be sure she'd feel the same satisfaction if worse came to worse.

"You aren't mad at Phystte for hunting him down then?"

The question took him off guard and he actually turned to look at her at that. Mako held a glimmer of fear in her eyes. Not a worry for herself, but the kind of worry you'd hold for someone else, for someone dear to you, maybe even someone you loved. Torian shut his eyes with a slight grin and shook his head. Yes, maybe not by blood, but Mako and Phystte were as much sisters and any two girls born from the same mother could be, he decided. And with that sudden insight, he found a fondness for Mako that hadn't been there just moments ago.

"No. I was glad for her help… and her company," Torian added the last a bit hesitantly. It had been both easier and more difficult to face his father with Phystte there. He had the means to take Jicoln down, in that he appreciated her being there. But to kill his own father was an intimate act - a debt between father and son, traitor and betrayed. He always imagined facing Jicoln alone, proving to his father, his clan, even Mandalore that he had strength enough to do so.

Phystte had left them to that private conversation in the end, but even so it seemed… less personal. That he knew she was there more for the credits than the principle had made her help almost seem unworthy, although he knew he shouldn't think of it that way. Mandalore himself had adopted her into his clan. Torian knew he should feel more proud for her being there to bring the traitor to justice than robbed of his own vengeance. And truthfully, he felt a kind of relief in not having to shoulder the burden hunting down and killing the man by himself. At such an important moment in his life, Phystte was standing there beside him. He could never begrudge her that. In fact, it seemed to bind her to him more than anything.

"Sure didn't seem like it," Mako mused out loud breaking his thoughts.

"Me'ven? What do you mean?"

"Oh just that you pretty much gave her the cold shoulder after you guys took him down and even on the ship you've been curt, at least as much as I've heard you talk to her anyway. Not that she'd say anything. I just got the feeling that maybe you were mad at her for something and that was the only thing I could think of you being angry with her for. I mean, normally she's mean to any guy that crosses her path so her flirting with you is like any other girl throwing themselves at your feet, and you don't even seem to care."

"That doesn't appear to bother her," Torian brought up. After all, she'd left with a definite smile on her face last they spoke and she didn't seem to mind in the slightest his cautious approach to her.

"Of course she wouldn't act like it bothers her! She's as bad as you are!" Mako gasped with exasperation.

"Suvarir. Something you want to tell me then?" Torian coaxed casually, pulling out the materials for another piece of armor, which only seemed to vex Mako further. Not a purposeful intention but one he wasn't disappointed to see. He kept the smile from reaching his lips though. No need to get her even more riled up, as if she wasn't doing a perfectly good job of that herself. In that case, there wasn't much he could do to stop her from exploding soon, which meant that he would have an angry girl after him after all.

"You know what I'm talking about," Mako chided. "I know you know!"

"Can't be certain I do know," Torian replied calmly. He thought he spotted her eyebrow twitch from the corner of his vision.

"That's it! I give up! You're both on your own!"

Mako stomped off leaving Torian bewildered at what just happened. He watched her march up the stairs, chin stiff, until the upper deck swallowed her out of sight. The conversation couldn't have really been that upsetting, could it? It didn't seem like something to toss a fit over. Not only could he not make heads or tails of Phystte, he was beginning to think he couldn't rightly understand any female whatsoever. Torian scratched his head for a moment then shrugged and went back to work on another bracer. Women.