Chapter 9.

Okay, I have to admit when I translated what Torian said to Jicoln, I had a moment of "OHHHHH! BURN!" but that was the immature part of my brain. This one may be short because the last one was 11(Correction, now 13) pages long. As always, cheers and enjoy!

Edit on January 7th, 2015.

For a long time, Torian stared at Jicoln's helmet, conflicted in a way he had never thought he would be. Raidre had been kind enough to leave some of his armour lying around before freezing Jicoln and transporting him away. Torian did not regret his action, this was the right thing to have done. His Clan knew it, he knew it and even Jicoln had known it. But he still felt like he had been, yet again, deprived of something essential. Jicoln had been good about it and had kept his telling of his version of events brief. But it was that simple piece of advice he had given him that was like a knife stuck in his throat.

"Don't let others dictate what you are entitled to."

Was it that obvious that he wanted Raidre but felt like he was not allowed to pursue her? His reaction to that whole situation gave him all the answer he needed. He was damaged goods, and he knew better than to think he was a 'catch' right now. He needed time to heal from this ordeal. Except the ordeal was his entire life up until this point.

He sighed and took inventory of the items in front of him. Mando'ade(1) did not have a burying ritual, more often than not there was no time to dispose of the dead properly. You just took a piece of armour and wore it. By keeping the armour with you, it was believed you also kept those now gone alive in your memories. Lost ones stayed part of the Mandalorian psyche or consciousness. Thus the dead became part of the Manda(2). Torian was shocked to find himself now wanting to make sure that Jicoln found his way there. He took Jilcon's helmet, and then he took a glove from the pile or armour Raidre had left him. The glove bore a symbol that could only have once been Clan Cadera's sigil.

Torian sat down and looked at the sky for a while, thinking. There were plenty of things he had denied himself because of his name and how others had treated him. Hunts he had coveted, trophies he had earned but others had taken from him. His pride, his honour, and any chance at love had been poisoned before it began for him. Bitterness was an old friend to Torian now.

How would Jicoln's death change that?

It was a serious question and it deserved time to be pondered. He had never felt part of Clan Ordo, more like luggage. How could he ever accept any kindness they might now show him? It was not like he could just forget the years of hardship, the shunning or the whispers. He sighed, there were only a few people who really cared for him without judgment, one was his oldest friend; Corridan and the other was the Champion herself. Heh, it had been forever since any woman had cooked for him, not even Jetrita had cooked for him during their time together. Torian knew his life was about to change for the better, but he also felt as if he were at a cross roads. He knew he would have to decide to either rebuild Clan Cadera or stay with Clan Ordo. Even though he owed Ordo his life, he could not in clear conscience stay. But where would he go? How would he rebuild his Clan when he could not remember anyone who used to be part of it?

Tired and frustrated with his thoughts, he made his way back to camp.

The greeting he received was unlike any he had ever gotten before. People cheered and patted him on the back and shoulder. Jogo was there, waiting for him along with other members of Clan Ordo. His arms crossed on his chest.

"So, you finally did it."

Torian nodded, he did not feel triumphant, but he did muster to feel some happiness at the acceptance he was greeted with. "Not without help."

Jogo frowned. "Who?"

"Who else?"

Jogo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Champion?"

Torian nodded. "The one and only."

"Alright everyone! Ori'skraan(3)!"

Fire warmed the area, people sang and danced. Copious amounts of Ne'tra Gal(4) was consumed. Torian sat with a cup in hand and a plate on the seat next to him, alone and still not feeling all that well. A young girl, red hair and freckles on her cheeks took his hand and dragged him on the designated space for dancing. Torian had never felt more out of place in his life. She did not seem to notice, she danced in front of him, around him, behind him. Her hands touching him as much as she could. Torian had never received this kind of attention before, and it felt odd. He gave her a smile that never reached his eyes and went back to sit with his half eaten food. He emptied his mostly full cup and still felt off.

Everything was delicious, the traitor-his father, was dead. Women were eager to share his time and some even made it clear he could bunk with them. Other warriors praised him and tried to get him to tell stories of his glories. Torian felt no glory in what had been today, which was what he meant when he had said to Raidre that he had not expected to feel as he did. And then his mind was consumed by thoughts of her. He still remembered how she felt, her smell, her voice as she sang to him. He was now convinced she had sung it for him since the Gra'tua Cuun was not exactly what most folk thought of as a lullaby. She reminded him of everything he held dear, brought back all sorts of fond memories he had buried away because as the years passed it had become too hard to keep them close, made him too bitter.

He was not bitter now as the music played and people danced. He even spotted Jogo making-out with the same red-haired girl who had tried to coax him into a better mood. He had his answer, this celebration felt incomplete to him because the person who was deserving of it was not present. Torian finished his meal, he never let good food go to waste and then went to go drink some more. A holo call pulled him away from the festivities.

"Torian! Is it true?!"

Corridan sounded more worried than happy, which spoke of how well he knew Torian. The older man looked concerned as he eyed Torian. Torian had not spoken much since he had killed Jicoln, he forced himself now.

"Yes."

"Wow."

Corridan had his hands on his hips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking at his boots.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, Torian."

"Don't, wasn't alone."

That took him aback. "Oh yea? Who?"

Torian did not want to talk about Raidre just now, he did not trust himself to keep his growing attraction and fondness out of his description of her.

"The Champion helped."

Corridan's eyes grew wide. "Wow, Torian, that's some luck."

Torian shrugged. "We were after the same target, it made sense."

"Is she any good?"

Torian tried not to let that bristle him, Corridan was skeptical by nature, tales became taller with every telling. "Better."

Corridan whistled with appreciation. "She pretty?"

This time he did bristle. "Why does it matter?"

Corridan shrugged. "Want to be a father someday."

Torian's stomach went cold. So did he, and he had already decided he wanted Raidre. Torian opted to change the subject. "Like you'd have any trouble."

Corridan laughed. "Yea, okay, but I bet all the girls are all over you now, you were always the better looking one."

Torian shrugged. "Feels odd, Corr."

Corridan smiled in a knowing way. "You'll get used to it, you'll learn to appreciate people for who they are instead of how they have treated you before. You know you always have a place in my company, right?"

Torian nodded. "Yea, wanna try something first."

Corridan cocked a brow at him. "Oh yea? Care to share?"

Torian weighed it and then decided there was no harm, Corridan never judged him, he was a true vod(5).

"Wanna see if the Champion will have me in her company, she likes to collect strays."

"Does she?"

Torian nodded, and Corridan just smiled at his friend. "You better not waste any time than, who knows how much time she'll spend in the sector before moving on."

Torian nodded again. "Yea, she's giving us the traitor's body tomorrow morning, make my move then."

"Good, jate'kara(6)."

"Ori'vor'e(7)!"

"Holo me after, want to see how it all works out."

"Got it."

Corridan's image disappeared and Torian stared at where it had been for a while. Corridan had a way of making him feel better and now he was focused. He went back to the festivities and instead of sitting with the warriors who had ridiculed him or with the women who had shunned him he sat down and played with the children. Kids were always bright and they had always been fair to him. They did not care who his father was. They cared about the fact that he snuck cakes to them whenever he was around and showed them all sorts of neat tricks. After that, his night was much more enjoyable.

Some of his clan mates had a difficult time waking the next day. Torian helped his clan-mates get everything set up and on the shuttle, even piloted the shuttle up to the way station. They were greeted by the Champion. Torian felt full of energy, he could barely stay still.

"Burc'ya(8). Wasting no time earning new honours, I see. We've been sent to retrieve the traitor from you."

"He's in the cargo bay."

She was so casual about it, her thumb indicating the area behind her, Gault right by her side. Jogo nodded.

"We'll make this quick."

The others left and Gault went to oversee the transaction, which left Torian alone with Raidre, he could not have asked for a better moment. Torian stepped forward, eyes only for the woman he wished he could have danced with last night. If only he knew how.

"Need to ask you a favour, Raidre."

She looked him in the eyes, her eyes as intense and serious as it had been that first time they had met. She waited quietly for him to ask his favour.

"I want to come with you."

A glint came to her eyes, a grin spread on her face. "Didn't get enough of me yet?"

For a moment mirshir(9) did not even begin to cover his internal reaction. Flashes of their kiss flashed before his eyes. Was she flirting with him? Really?! Of course she was going to be flirty with him after that. But what the haran(10) should he say?

"Guess not."

He heard himself say it, and immediately felt the need to punch something, he remained calm however. He did not want her to see it. Time to change the subject.

"I mean to serve, join your hunts, earn respect for my Clan."

She cocked her hip to the side, hand on hip, while her other hand rubbed her chin as if deep in thought. Torian knew in the back of his mind that she was teasing him, but he wanted an answer more.

"Give me this honour."

She straightened up, serious again. "I'm flattered, Torian. Welcome abroad."

He sighed. "Thank you."

The others showed up, Jicoln's carbonite frozen remains on repulsors following them.

"We're done." Jogo said. "Coming, Torian."

Torian shook his head. "Nope."

"Tch. You can finally show your face, and now you're running off again. Try to make something of yourself, arue'tal(11)."

Torian looked at Raidre. "Ready when you are."

Raidre smiled, Gault called to her from the ship.

"Can we go now? I'd rather put Taris in the past, I miss that shirt."

NOTES:

1 .Children of Mandalore, planet and/or leader.

2 .The Mandalorian after-life. Rather than living in a perfect, idyllic reality, the warriors of the past join the unconscious collective consciousness of the Mandalorian people.

3 .Can mean a number of things all food related; delicacy, a real treat or a blow-out meal i.e. a feast or slang like 'big eats'.

4 .Black ale, think Guinness.

5 .Literally means brother.

6 .Good luck.

7 .Thanks a lot! Or Thanks a million!

8 .Friend.

9 .Brain stunned.

10 .Hell.

11 .Traitor's blood.