Chapter 6.

Last edited on January 7th, 2015. Cheers and enjoy, as always.

Forward onto glory he raced. Running always made him feel alive. But today was different, he felt more. It was all her fault too.

Torian spent a lot of time numbing himself so he wouldn't react to any of the gibes or taunts people threw at him. It had become a defence mechanism from his peers as well as from the trauma of growing up in multiple battle fields. When you see mangled bodies and you never know how long your friends are going to be around for it can be hard to adapt to the unexpected. He'd adapted by trying his best not to let any of it affect him at all. But that meant he sacrificed the good along with the bad.

He could honestly say he rarely felt much at all.

Most of the time it was surface emotions such as irritation or confusion, but never anything more in depth such as gratitude or happiness. But what he was feeling now, and what terrified him most was hope.

Hope was dangerous in this mangled galaxy they lived in. It could as well save you as lead you to your death.

Hope had brought a knife to his throat when Jetrita had grown to hate him with time. It hurt to even think of his first love. She had been the only Mando woman who had ever given him the time of day, a friend from his childhood. She had taught him to stay away from anything serious.

The risk was too high to take it lightly. And he hadn't found anyone he wanted to be serious with.

But Raidre made him want to be serious.

Fatherhood was one of the greatest ideals Mando'ade(1) are taught. Fathers name the children in the Mandalorian household. It is part of your duty to the clan to expand it. You can adopt or have your own kids. Torian would always remain silent when the other boys would talk about women and their future family. He heard that with other cultures it was the reverse, women looking forward to kids and marriage and then men running away from it.

That always seemed unusual to him, but that's why Mandalorians didn't always mingle well with other cultures.

Torian had fashioned himself as a paragon of Mando'ade(2) culture, so he had always hoped in secret that could fulfil that very duty. Most days he doubted he would live long enough to achieve it. She made him want to live long enough for it, and to maybe even grow old. Most men fought so they could go home to their family, to their wives, Torian fought to prove that his name alone was not reason enough to condemn him. That often left him exhausted or injured, but no one had cause to question his resolve or dedication to his fellow Mando'ade(3). His quest for respect often made him forgo his survival instincts, something her presence reminded him of. It hit him hard enough to make his breathing shallow, short from pain. The sun peaked through the clouds as Torian moved. He was like a Nexu(4), running through the woods, one with the trees and grass around him, part of the ecosystem.

She seemed different from any woman he had ever met before. Were it just that, he would have distanced himself from her as much as possible, this much chemistry was volatile. However, she also behaved different from any woman he had ever met before. Pragmatic, yes, cold and calculating? Absolutely. She showed signs of other, more comely traits as well. Hints of compassion here and there, and leadership. She had honour, he knew this down to his bones. It made him feel small and helpless around her. She, however, didn't rub his face in it. In fact, she seemed unaware of it. Humble.

He was in danger and he knew it.

His body was doing all the work for him, going through the wilderness of Taris as if he had been born to it. He had to find those trophies and he knew he had little time to accomplish it in. Raidre did not strike him as a patient hunter, a pity. In all fairness, the faster this sordid business was over, the better for his name and his mind. He came across a clearing, and there it was, laid out in the open. Too easy. He paused and observed the trap laid out before him. He scouted the area, no bombs or booby traps that he could find, which meant that it would be a sniper attack if anything at all. He walked out in the open, a tempting target as ever. He stayed there, feeling naked and anxious for a good couple of minutes, but nothing. He sighed and transmitted the coordinates of the first trophy to Raidre.

He left without a second thought, no time to waste, she could handle any under handedness Jicoln might throw at her. He knew from experience.

Raidre moved along the tree line of the area Torian had sent her to. Gault looked around with his sniper rifle scope.

"It looks clear."

Raidre cocked a brow. "Looks? Have you gotten tired of me already, Gault?"

Gault frowned. "I'd be lying if I said your new friend didn't annoy me, but no. The tree line covers too many good spots to snipe from and it would take a good hour or so to really scout them all out, maybe more. I don't think you have the patience for that."

Raidre sighed. "Right."

She advanced to some sort of machinery that lay in the middle of an open area, but nothing of interest aside for it. Raidre looked around, had Torian messed it up? She pulled out her holo and called up Torian.

"I'm at the coordinates. No sign of Jicoln, just some sort of marker."

"Not good."

That was all he had time to say because that shabuir(5) Jicoln took a shot at her. She never saw the bolt, it came out of nowhere and it spun her as she landed on her face. Not a glorified moment at all. She growled as she grabbed for her side. Gault ran up to her.

"Holy-hey… hey, if you want me to steal your ship and run, just lie still and don't move…"

It hurt to, but Raidre looked up at Gault and frowned at him, it was no use though. She started laughing at him and that just made her ribs hurt more. "Not dead yet, Gault."

Raidre got up and shook her head, Gault just shrugged, they both jumped and pressed themselves against the machinery as more shots were shot their way. Raidre's holo rang.

"You okay? What happ-"

Torian was abruptly cut off by Jicoln. "Challenge accepted."

Raidre glared at him. "That was a cheap shot, Jicoln."

But the older man was gone already, instead Torian was calling back. Raidre picked up again.

"Transmission cut out. Transmitting coordinates, should be all the traitor's honours. Contact you when I find his bolt hole. Torian out."

And just like that, he was gone. She put her holo away, Gault just grinned at her.

"What?!"

He laughed out loud at that. "You're hilarious."

Raidre pursed her lips and quirked a brow at the Devaronian. "Come again?"

Gault was trying his best to restraint his laughter, his whole body shaking from the effort. "Wow, defensive, guess he's really you're type."

Raidre felt like the blood drained from her face. "What are you talking about?"

Gault started chuckling. "It really embarrasses you that you like him, doesn't it?"

She almost punched him, right there and then, but then she would have had to carry him and by the look of those coordinates, they had a lot of ground to cover. She sighed and looked to the sky.

"Remind me why I let you live?"

Gault never missed a beat. "Because I make life a whole lot more interesting, not to mention that I have lots of ways to have credits pour in."

She glared at him. "You know, credits aren't everything…"

Gault gave her a big smile. "That's what Mako and now Torian are for."

Raidre stared at him hard, attempting to kill him with her eyes, but that never worked. "Come on, let's move."

"Yes, Missus Cadera."

She smacked him, hard. He cried out, and she smacked him again for flinching.

Every time she took an honour, the traitor took a shot at her, were she alone, that would have worked well, weaken the enemy considerably before they reach the final part of the game, and then they would be too weak to offer much of a resistance. If Torian did not find the traitor so despicable, he might have commended him on the tactic alone. Finding the traitor's honours had been child's play compared to his bolthole. Or perhaps a better way of putting it was to admit that Jicoln was being over-confident, even cocky. His tracks were obvious compared to the care he took regularly in making his path invisible. Torian looked at the signs and followed a clear path. Through the trees and wilderness and exited into a clearing where a wrecked ship lay in ruins. The name along it was still legible, the Endar Spire. Torian reminded himself to breathe, this was not the time to let his anger get the better of him.

He went in, and found the place was deserted. Blaster rifle out and ready, he checked each and every room. He found some old droids, but they were not operational. Torian began laying down charges and traps of all varieties. Let the traitor pick how he wants to exit this world into the manda(6). The place was in disarray, water covered most of the floor and wires lay exposed. This was not a home, or at least not one Torian could contemplate living in for any extended period of time. Once the main room was set up to his satisfaction, Torian moved onto other rooms, and that is how he came across it: the traitor's personal quarters. He would have set fire to all of it if he had sense, but a holo caused him to pause.

It felt as if a knife had been shoved between his ribs, its edge playing with the muscles of his heart as he looked at that image of his mother.

He couldn't breathe.

Kalia had been a very beautiful woman, many of the older warriors had told Torian so. They said he had all his good looks from her, not that it mattered. He would have rather been born hideous if it meant that she could have lived longer. He did not remember her well, except her voice, she sang the most wonderful songs about wars long ago fought. She had died in a duel over his honour. Even after the traitor fell from grace, she had gone on loving him. Like most women born and raised as Mando'ade(7), she did not take any jibes at her or her loved ones' honour well. She died before he was big enough to fight for her. That day was one of his earliest memories, and that image of her brought it to the fore front of his mind in all its sharp, agonizing contrasts. He had never hated his father more than he did at this moment. His fist was forming, relaxing and forming again, over and over.

Raidre found him like this, the ring of the holo pulled him out of his jagged memories, and he answered it with slow and sluggish movements.

"Found the traitor's bolt-hole." Torian began automatically. "Wreckage. Crashed ship. The Endar Spire."

She smiled, but at the moment he was not in the mood to appreciate it.

"Good job, Torian. I'll let you know as soon as I have Jicoln on the run."

Torian nodded, feeling more tired than he ever remembered. "Keep the pressure on, I'll start laying a trap. I'll call when everything's in position."

She was gone, and he felt bereft. Torian took refuge in his anger. He would not let this weakness take hold of him. This would stop now. He looked at that holo once more and went back to laying out his traps in the various areas.

The traitor would die, the blood debt was an old one and it had a lot of interest coming with it.

Jicoln had better be ready for it, because Torian would make sure he would feel as hopeless as he had all his life before he let him go. He hoped that the traitor would be dar'manda(8), because the idea that he might join his mother's essence in the manda(9) was more offensive than anything he could have imagined.

Every time Raidre took a trophy she was greeted by blaster shots. She was not a fan. By the third time this had occurred she was livid and growling about it. That Gault found this all too amusing was not helping her mood any either. She glared at the Devarionian, with half a mind to send him back and go on the rest of the way by herself. When he made another crack about Torian and her, she sent him back to get Mako. Ah, how thankful she was for speeders! Mako appeared quickly and they had lost no time at all, but by the fourth location, no more shots greeted her. That was worrisome. She pulled out her holo and rung Torian.

"Torian, that trap ready?"

He frowned, that was not a good sign.

"No, and the traitor's on his way back."

It was Raidre's turn to frown. "Jicoln's still got one cache left, you think he's onto us?"

Torian shook his head. "He's changing strategy. You're winning: he's coming to fortify his stronghold. Transmitting location, I'll do what I can. Hurry."

The holo ended there and Raidre's heart was in her throat. Okay, so maybe Gault was right, and she was absolutely embarrassed by how much she was turning out to like this young Mando'ad(10). But now she was worried. She had seen first-hand that Torian was a capable warrior, but Jicoln did not fight fair.

Mako also looked worried. "Come on, we better hurry."

Raidre nodded. "Right."

The girls moved out, or more like Raidre ran for it and Mako did her best to keep up. To say that Raidre understood what was happening between her and Torian would have been a lie. She had been to many places, seen plenty of faces, but this was different. The attraction was electric. He was really too good-looking, it made things… difficult.

What was she thinking?! I mean, how OLD was this kid anyway?! Her mind raced, he had never admitted to being eighteen, but he really did not look older than that. Maybe she should just put herself out of this misery and tell Mako to pursue him, which would settle things nicely. She sighed internally, Mako would never go for it. Mako was a 'bro', and she would just come up with some excuse or pretence why she couldn't do it. Mako knew her too well to be fooled. They ran through the woods, not paying attention to their stealth or making their path difficult to follow. Time was running out. Raidre was sure Torian would survive long enough for them to get there, but she had no idea in what state Jicoln might leave him. Torian was all too eager to kill Jicoln with his bare hands.

Raidre could relate, she had once been in his very shoes. Several years ago she had found her parents murderer, and she was not proud to relate what she had done to him before she ended his life.

She would do better by Torian.

He was not frantic. No one could have made him admit to being frantic. He was laying more traps than he could ever need, but still it did not seem enough. He doubled back again to the rooms in the back of the ship. Yes, even this area was adequately set up with traps.

And even if it wasn't, Torian had no more left.

Kalia's picture smiled at him, haunting him. The need to extinguish his wrath was thick and that is how Jicoln found him. Torian looked into the face of the idol of his ire. No questions came to mind, he just reacted.

The traitor had a blaster, so Torian knocked it out of his hands with his electro-staff, he tried to grab Torian, so he let the electrical currents come to life and allowed the traitor to embrace the head of his staff.

Jicoln cried out and backed away, Torian pursued. It was a ruse. Torian grappled with a man who had close to 75 pounds on him and it was all muscle. Jicoln grabbed his blaster and let loose a volley of shots. But the rifle was not suited for close range. Torian tumbled away and escaped. Torian hid behind one of the many ancient crates that littered the area, breathing hard.

"Why are you here?" Jicoln asked the entire room.

Torian snorted, like he would dignify that with a response.

Jicoln kept turning round and round, looking for a foe he could not see. Torian moved in, getting closer with planned steps, careful and quiet.

"Go home, boy. Bury yourself in your woman."

Pure hot rage seared Torian's brain. He jumped out of cover and jumped the traitor.

Bury himself in his woman?

The traitor was the very reason he was denied everything he had been taught to covet and honour! The traitor was the reason he was so close to the person he wanted most but said and did nothing about it!

Jicoln used Torian's blaster rifle to block the electro-staff's strike, some of the traps set up earlier exploded, sending the two men sprawling, weapons forgotten and thrown aside by the force of the blast. A couple of other blasts followed the first, exploding due to proximity from the initial explosion.

Guess there was such a thing as too many traps.

They were thrown at opposite ends of the room and forced to take cover as other traps were set off in a chain reaction. An electronet covered Jicoln as he struggled, heating his munitions. Torian groaned and pulled himself up on all fours, he looked around and spotted Jicoln. Thought was no longer being processed by Torian's mind, only actions. He pulled out a knife and went to the traitor who was only just starting to shake off the electronet and get himself up. Torian jumped him as he was attempting to stand, they grappled, the traitor's weight gave him an advantage, but Torian was very good with virbroblades.

The traitor groaned as Torian sunk his blade between his fifth and sixth rib, aimed upwards. He missed the heart, but punctured a lung. Torian switched strategies, instead of being precise he decided on quantity. He stabbed Jicoln again and again, half a dozen times worth of again. The heated munitions cache on Jicoln reached their breaking point. Plasma exploded all over the place. Jicoln threw Torian aside and rolled away. Torian spotted his electro-staff, so he rolled to pick it up. They stood as one, Jicoln with the blaster riffle and Torian with his electro-staff. The two eyed each other in stillness.

"Go home, boy." Jicoln said, almost begged.

Torian growled and charged. Jicoln shot him in the stomach, it took seven shots before the young man went down. It didn't matter how much he had trained, or how much pain he could take. It made no difference that he was one of the best at what he did.

Seven blaster bolts to the gut were still seven blaster bolts to the gut.

Torian sunk to his knees, and Jicoln watched as his face went from rage to surprise and then slackened. As if his brain had not registered the pain until now.

Jicoln own face was expressing disgust. This hurt him more than anything else had. This boy who looked so much like how he imagined his own son would have looked like if he had been permitted to grow up. He dreamed of it, and he often woke shaking and covered in sweat. To watch this boy sink to his knees hurt him almost as much as it had hurt him to run from Artus all those years ago. Abandoning his wife and child to their cruel fates. He watched it nonetheless, this was his punishment, rightly deserved or so Artus would have him believe.

What this, all of this was, was a total waste of a perfectly good warrior. A shameful waste of a well raised and trained Mandalorian. And if Jicoln had anything to say about it, Artus would pay for every one of his vode(11) that Jicoln had been forced to kill over the years. Jicoln watched the boy until he was certain he had lost consciousness and then limped out of the Endar Spire, secretly hoping that the girl would make it in time.

NOTES:

1 IBIDEM to note #1.

2 IBIDEM to note #1.

3 IBIDEM to note #1.

4 .Nexus were feline creatures native to the chilly forests of the Indona continent on the planet of Cholganna.

5 According to Mandoa organization online shabuir is meant as an extreme insult which is stronger than jerk.

6 According the little cultural information I could dig up, the manda is as close to an afterlife as the Mandalorians allow themselves to believe in. Religion and the Mando'ade have a deep history because at one time they used to idolize gods of war, which evolved into a worship of war itself. The path of religious zeal was abandoned however, and now they have a loose concept of the manda being a collection of the essence of all the deceased Mando'ade. It is best to see the manda as a kind of force that holds all the departed Mando'ade along with what it meant to be a warrior to them while they were alive.

7 IBIDEM to note #1.

8Dar'manda is a state in which a Mando'ad has no knowledge of his heritage or has turned their back on it. As far as the Mando'ade are concerned, to be dar'manda is to be without one's soul, it is a fate worse than all and any painful death.

9 IBIDEM to note #5.

10 IBIDEM to note #1 but singular.

11Vod often means brother or sister, but it can also mean comrade or mate.