A Wastrel's Lament

[Subject 5]

The chains chafed against his tender, tanned skin. Five had long ago given up on trying to get out. The setting in which he found himself now, was, familiar in a strange sense. A similar darkness enveloped him. Only this time backed with the ambient hum of engines. Or at least what he believed were engines. The Dusky Shobuld, the first vessel he had ever been on, carried a clunkier sound. This one, at least seemed to be sleeker, smoother. To take away from the hunger which radiated in his stomach, and the fear which clung to the back of his thoughts.

Five began lost in all these sensations. A trance like state having settled on his weary mind. This was interupted, with a sharp hiss. Five began to focus again, his eyes burning, as a light erupted into the pitch dark of the room. A silhhoutted figure, one attired in the same armour as the others, now entered. The clink of boots against metal echoing through the chilled chamber. Five turned his head down, and then back up, looking right at the man. His left socket, busted and grey from the internalised bleeding a rifle butt to the face caused.

"Hello." Five began, a dry, hoarse voice began. No other words needed, as he clenched his jaw.
[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

Everyone had a use.

The Mandalorian was certainly going to be indistinguishable to those that weren't entirely familiar with the smallest of intricacies that comprised the armour such warriors wear. It wasn't as if that truly mattered in the current scenario. 'Five', as it were, had been rather unremarkable himself. Plain, if nothing else. It wasn't always the outside that mattered, though. It was heart above all else. Any Mandalorian, no matter what creed, could tell someone that.

Fett remained shrouded in the shadows, appearing as nothing more than a silhouette within the darkness. It had been been a cheap form of intimidation; the fear of the unknown often triumphed all others. Although, there was a light that beamed bright over the captives head. The Bounty Hunter made Warlord had stood rather silently, but that wasn't anything new. He allowed that greeting to stir, shift through the tense air around them before offering a verbal reply of his own.

"Your name?" It was merely a question. His voice had reeked with a concordian accent, identical to those that existed in such numbers centuries ago. It was seemingly passive, but withheld a lingering sense of malice.

 

[Subject 5]

He considered the words, and allowed himself a small frown to purse his lips. Was this what the man had come for? Information? His captors had already taken a name when he'd first been shackled here. Although, it was the hurried, and panicked shouts which came with a very quick and short interview before he had been stowed in solitude. Five shook his head, and allowed his blonde locks to be waved out of his face. His eyes narrowed, and now intensely focused upon the head of the man. Or at least what he had assumed was the head, you could never really tell with these people. The T shaped slit, may have been a mouth for all he knew. Perhaps he did not even need to see? These ideas, concepts, danced around his mind.

However, he was different. His accent, a little strange. He could not for the life of him recognise it, when compared to the others he had the misfortune of meeting. They were gruffer, a little less, understandable? But this man here? He spoke with an air of eloquence. One which set him on edge. His eyes tried searching for a weapon upon him, sizing him up some. Quickly assessing some kind of indication of his fate. Was this some kind of execution? Five would not dignify him the act of cowering before the man. Instead, he kept a steady gaze at his possible head.

"I think you already know that." He calmly replied. His voice was calm, sure. But it carried a stern edge. "Five." He answered, "Or Fives." He conceded with a slight shrug, "Not sure which sounds better."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

"Neither." He answered with a snide to his tone. "They're not names." Fett furthered. This Bounty Hunter had dealt with such issues in the past, too. He had a designation, a set of numbers and letters, but never a name. There was a nickname bestowed upon him by those he could once call family, but ultimately it had been Fett who decided that he was more than a set of digits outlined in a manifesto. Yet, even then, it seemed he sentenced himself to a lifetime of proving oneself to a man long since dead. An impossible task, no?

Maybe he remained quiet for a few seconds longer in an effort to see if Five was going to give some snark related reply, but it didn't seem to matter. The Mandalorian spoke again, asking another question.

"Your business on Noverskaa?" It carried the same tone as the original query. Whether not all these questions had been asked before hadn't any effect on Fett. He trusted those that served Te Veman, but it was impossible to shake that requirement to see for himself. There was a path he could lead this down and he had it in mind already.

[member="Subject 5"]

 

[Subject 5]

"Well they're all I have." Five snapped back, his eyes briefly flashed with venom. However, he would relent, and bowed his head a little. He could have explained. But didn't. He didn't know the answers, so what would be the use in giving his captor, some half baked explanation. One which he could not, and would not be able to fully understand. Silence would be his best protection for now. Best not labour the notion beneath this man.

He instead listened to the man's line of questioning. Perhaps the retributive chance of execution had, at least for now, abated itself. A brief moment of silence passed."Business." He finally informed him. "I was on a freighter." Five began to explain, "Bartered my way off of Tatooine," The planets name, did not roll cleanly off his tongue. He enunciated the name strangely, his voice clinging to the two 'o' "It was the Dusky Shobuld." he elaborated, "We were delivering power cells, from the uh...." His mind wracked itself, trying to recall the manifest. His eyes closed in frustration, trying to recall the details. "Galactic Empire. That's it." He mused quietly.

"Captain was a drunk arse." He continued, "So I jumped ship." He then turned his head up. "Decided I didn't want part of his employ." he then looked back at the visor, "The rest, is history."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Subject 5]

"Well they're all I have." Five snapped back, his eyes briefly flashed with venom. However, he would relent, and bowed his head a little. He could have explained. But didn't. He didn't know the answers, so what would be the use in giving his captor, some half baked explanation. One which he could not, and would not be able to fully understand. Silence would be his best protection for now. Best not labour the notion beneath this man.

He instead listened to the man's line of questioning. Perhaps the retributive chance of execution had, at least for now, abated itself. A brief moment of silence passed."Business." He finally informed him. "I was on a freighter." Five began to explain, "Bartered my way off of Tatooine," The planets name, did not roll cleanly off his tongue. He enunciated the name strangely, his voice clinging to the two 'o' "It was the Dusky Shobuld." he elaborated, "We were delivering power cells, from the uh...." His mind wracked itself, trying to recall the manifest. His eyes closed in frustration, trying to recall the details. "Galactic Empire. That's it." He mused quietly.

"Captain was a drunk arse." He continued, "So I jumped ship." He then turned his head up. "Decided I didn't want part of his employ." he then looked back at the visor, "The rest, is history."

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

"Hmph." Fett had huffed an electronically synthesised breath of fresh air courtesy of the helmet's internal microphone. It had came across as a scoff blended with amusement. There was a respectableness to such a tale, a man who lived by their own rules, wishes and whims. Reminiscent of himself, truly. Fett had never been a man capable of being held down in anyone place or position. Always on the move, seeking their own desires. Now? It was Mandalore that he desired. This position of Warlord had been accepted, but his motives were... questionable, at best.

Selfishness. It allowed him to thrive.

​His helmeted head had cocked to the side, angling a hint of reflective light to beam elsewhere. "You have anywhere to go?" He further prodded.

 

[Subject 5]

“Taipoca City!” Fives quickly blurted out, before censoring himself. He’d butchered the saying of it, but it was recognisable. Kamino of all places. He bashfully looked down, where his long blonde hair shielded his face from the prying gaze of the warlord. Five felt like he had embarrassed himself before his captor. Shown foolishness before him. So for a moment he sat, his form stilled.

“I don’t know where it is exactly, but the Shobuld’s captain told me he’d take me there.” He informed the Mandalorian, he now decided he’d try to come clean. “I woke up, little over a week ago in a cramped room in the desert, with a jumpsuit, and a disk.” He now looked up, and motioned his head to the brown leather jacket which hung over a crate in the far corner. His first jailers had deprived him of such comfort as that.

“Disk said it belonged to Taipoca, but that’s all I know.” He lamented coolly. Five frowned a little, “I have no idea who I am. Where I come from. Who I’m supposed to be.”

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

"Tipoca." Fett replied, correcting his mistake. There was a certain fluency within the pronunciation of such simple word, and as it should be- Koda had never spent too long in one location, but Tipoca City had housed him for ten years. It brought him into existence, into adulthood, into everything he was. Was. Now, Fett had surpassed all of that. Those damn Kaminoans could never guess in their lives that this is where he'd be. That, of all things, made him smirk.

​It was once more that the Warlord allowed the younger man's words to sit, to stir, to flow freely in the air around them. "You want someone to be?" Fett asked, "I- We can provide that." It was then that those lights came on, and there was no mistaking that Fett had been standing there int he darkness. "Become a Mandalorian."

[member="Subject 5"]

 

[Subject 5]

Mandalorian. The word stirred within his mind. "Mandalorian..." The word escaped his lips. He toyed with it, the enunciation, how it felt. But it seemed curious. From how he'd heard about the Mandalorians, who they were. They acted like a species. They were a people. "But I'm not?" He voiced it as a statement, but it trailed like a question, into the void. He paused, "How would I become one?" He then paused, and allowed himself to bite into his lip, "Do I uh... become like you?" He gestured to the helm, "All metal, and... no..." He tried to gesture to his own face, in vain.

"None of...." he shook his head, clearly meaning to gesture to his face, "This." He paused. "Is there like, some kind of surgery involved?" he continued, his voice shaking. The idea of it seemed to scare him. Not that he had even experienced it from first hand. At least, that's what he thought. Again, he was in a world of confusion. Everything seemed so strange, an oh so confusing to him. So then, he paused. Hoping his bizarre ramblings made some sense to the Mandalorian. That his concerns would be addressed.

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

"It's armour." The Mandalorian stated abruptly, silencing any confusion that ran rampant within Fives' mind, or so he had assumed. He had never experienced that kind of confusion before- not once at someone mistaken the armour for that of robotic implants. That was, however, in his personal experience. Fett's arms had folded over his armoured chest as he stared down at a shackled individual.

"You decide." He furthered with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's either that, or, I vent you." There was no real reason to keep Five around otherwise. He, then, had no worth. No part to play. An obstacle in the path of resources. No matter how insignificant.

[member="Subject 5"]

 

[Subject 5]

"Oh....." he nodded finally comprehending that there was flesh behind those steel faces, "I understand." He continued. But now the Mandalorian delivered an ultimatum. One which made his blood freeze cold in his veins. "Oh." He mused again. So, while perhaps this would be a mercy, it seemed now, at least, that he would be kept on some kind of leash. A real short one at that. Really, there were no options open to him. A zero sum game as it were.

"Sure...." His voice trailed off, "Yeah, sure." He affirmed, before pausing again, "Pardon the confusion, but I assumed a Mandalorian," he deferred to him, "Was some kind of, well, alien." He added, but his deference would be shrugged off, "But in any case, am I going to be allowed out of here?"

[member="Koda Fett"]