An Old Friend

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Creditless...

That's all Triam could think about now. She had hardly a dollar to her name, and a bunch of crap in her ship. She'd neglected her personal duties as a mineral mining Entrepreneur, as a Mercenary, as a Bounty Hunter, as a Beast Hunter. Now a days, she spent her time hoarding scrap, droids, materials and equipment whilst in her ship. She'd been riding off the little amount of money she made in the past several years. She got sick one day, and stopped hunting, stopped moving. Since then she's gotten better, but there was just... something that felt wrong about going back to galactic affairs.

She met with Preliat some time ago. It didn't go well.

Despite her early infamy, Triam had fallen out of favor with everything it seemed. She was no longer selling, no one was buying, and she stopped making products. Her armor wasn't even in use any more. Only ever wearing it when she got anxiety attacks. Triam always felt guilty when this happened, because she knew people like Preliat who were far more damaged than she was. She killed one person on accident, and dealt with the physical trauma of a tournament she chose to be in. There was no reason for her to even shed a tear, when thinking about a man whose entire life was dominated by pains unimaginable to her.

It was during one of these mental breakdowns when she heard about a ruthless Mandalorian causing a disturbance around the planet she was orbiting. She didn't remember it's name really, but it was a fairly average human world, oceans, continents, a moon or two, people both rural and more urban. Not very notable.

There was no reason for her to be thinking of Preliat, but it had also been a long time since she had been this close to a Mandalorian, since Preliat. She may have had a thing for him in the past too, given that she was young and stupid, and wasn't afraid of the danger the Mando presented to her. So stupid, she even let herself try to open up his pains unarmored. She only wanted to help, but as she found out, Triam wasn't exactly a people person. Looking back, she looked at the amount of droids strewn about the ship.

Shaking her head, she landed in the spaceport, armed and ready, set to stun. She let the authority know, she was moving in... they didn't know who she was of course, but she let them know her occupation.

Damn she had gotten low...

 

[Preliat Mantis]

It was a lifetime ago. Many things were. Peaceful quiet. Good sound sleep. Nightmares not existing. War not being the defining feature of his existence. He used to live for things, now, now he simply survived. Preliat had a lot on his mind, but less on his plate. His wife disappeared into the Nether, and didn't come out. Neither did his daughter. At least, that he knew of. He was not taking it well. Neither was the thugs that were attacking him at the bar were. It had begun with a simple barfight, but then the gang swooped in, trying to overpower the wolf. Several broken bones, bruised eyes, knocked out teeth later- Preliat was on the local headlines for single-handedly taking down a group of thugs. The videos were wild as he was, showing him attacking them with brutal efficiency. He was a monstrous entity in combat, let alone close quarters. The local street gang was lucky enough to escape with their lives.


Then, the police came. They cornered him in the building, after he threw or told most of the gang to get out. He wasn't coming out. He was a Mandalorian Field Marshal who had come under attack. They were afraid because he was wearing armor, the best kind in the galaxy, and he was armed. Well, they thought at least. And they were right. He'd done about twelve men in with just his bare hands and crushgaunts- they didn't want to rush in if he was going to shoot back.


Besides, Preliat, sitting on 17.5 million credits, courtesy of him stabbing Dredge to death, didn't really care. He could pay bail. He just preferred not to.


[member="Triam Akovin"]

 

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Standing outside the bar, with the local police forces all surrounding the building, Triam sighed as she took inventory of herself. It had been a long time since she had been out in the field, and in all likelihood her armor and gadgets would need a good polishing once all this was over. Her feet her once again weighted by boots of immense weight (only capable of walking due to repulsion technology), and her powerful underlay was tight to her skin, as it was wrapped around by plates of superconductive ultrachrome, all wired into her phrik guarded laser, which she could power through self electrocution with her Phantom Fingers. She flexed her mechanical hand, virtually unchanged in design since she had acquired it, in her hand was a detonator which she placed into her mystical gunbelt, that she could not understand, but used nonetheless since acquiring it from an Auction. Her helmet provided a heads-up display that her eyes had to once again become accustomed to, as it displayed targets all around. She shifted her shoulders as her body got used to all the weight, along with the Repulsor pack she had been carrying she getting of her ship. Pistols at her sides, a rifle in her hands.


There was no way of knowing how well she would do, but old habits died hard, and Triam had some fairly over developed habits. Getting the go ahead from the resident chief, not that she needed it, she approached the building with a bit of anxiety in her chest, but a renewed excitement that she had remembered loving so dearly. Her heart began to beat, she felt the rush of adrenaline building up, her eyes taking in every detail as she readied herself for combat. Like slipping into an old pair of boots, Triam began to melt and pour into the grooves of her profession, remembering all the tiny little things that people didn't care to even notice.

She opened the door slowly, and peered into the building with safety on. Her helmet projected her voice into the room...

"You've caused some trouble there sir, it'd make things a lot easier if you just talked out your problems."

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat removed his helmet, setting himself into an adjacent seat. It was a seedy bar, and it had seedy tables, seedy drinks, and seedy people. Had. Most of the tables and chairs were broken, and blood covered where Preliat had broken bone and split open skin with his vicious attacks. He blinked. The voice was like a ghost hovering over his body, a relic of times past when the weight of the galaxy was not bearing down on his shoulders. He rapped his fingers on the table. He met Triam when she was a young woman, and he was a young man. They were both in their thirties, with Preliat having just turned thirty himself. His genes had blessed him with remaining relatively the same, save for some noticeable wear and tear on his skin. There was a heavy cut on his cheek, but other than that- he looked the same. He even let his hair grow out once more.

[member="Triam Akovin"] had a voice that soothed him better than any drink or hypnotism. He leaned back in the seat. Was it by luck, by fate, or by some stroke of genius that she appeared on the planet, in this particular instance? Perhaps. Perhaps not.


"I talked to my problems. They're all not resting in the morgue, so I would say that it has been a colossally successful discussion."

 

[Cassus Akovin]

"Mantis..." She breathed. Fate had a funny sense of humour, but she supposed she always arrived in the right place at the right time... while it seemed her old friend was perpetually in the wrong place at all the wrong times. Recognizing his voice as much as he had recognized hers. It was amazing... the body learned to relax around some people, even after as many years. She had matured greatly in her isolation, and too much had happened for her to follow. Her shoulders dropped as her rifle pointed to the ground, as far as she knew it was useless at this point to bring it along. Bounty or no bounty, she wasn't going to try and turn in Preliat... even if it meant she spent the rest of her funds paying for his bail.

The bar was totally wrecked... and a smirk appeared on her face as she remembered a similar, albeit less extreme interaction between the two of them, over in Wallala, when she was drunk off her ass Preliat was there as always to save the day. Good memories filled her head, all the way back to Roche. Wincing however, she did remember another side of Preliat on Mandalore. There was a feeling that this was an even worse side of Preliat. This time it would be different. This time, she would do nothing to change him.

Carrying the rifle in one hand, she reached down and picked up a mostly intact chair, and dragged it over to Preliat. "I'll be honest Mantis... I was not expecting this. Though knowing you, I probably should have, huh?" She tapped her head, and the helmet fell away into her suit. Like Preliat, she had aged well. Still only 27, but not afraid to admit that she felt older. Still spiked blonde hair, still bright blue eyes, and fair (albeit grimy) skin. There was a roughness though to her features, that probably was not there the last time he had seen her face.

She paused for a moment... not sure how to proceed. The last time she tried to jump right into a therapist's role, and although her talents were varied and numbered... understanding the fragility of the human psyche was not one. They weren't droids, where you could simply... reset their programming, and resume like nothing at all ever happened. [member="Preliat Mantis"] was a minefield, but unlike a minefield, he could learn to trust rather than explode. She believed it.

"... want to drink or something? For old time's sakes?"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"... want to drink or something? For old time's sakes?"


The words panged a noticeable shift in expression for Preliat. Old times. What did she mean? Even when she met him, he was a troubled soul- but not compared to the current state he was in. Preliat began to chuckle, a sinister, hollow sound from the throat of the man who had not laughed genuinely in many years. It wasn't a laugh that was out of humor, but of pain, regret, and circumstance- fate was a cruel mistress to the Mantis clan. [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Aditya Mantis"]- all suffered either directly or indirectly because of the man before [member="Triam Akovin"]. He took a deep breath, before pursing his lips.


He spoke after a moment's thinking."To which old times are you referring, Miss Akovin- I would not drink to anything. Nothing I have done warrants celebration."He took up a nearby glass of amber liquid, apparently his own drink, and sipped at it. His face cringed, before he blinked and spoke again."Life has not been kind to me since our last meeting. As I understand, you're somewhat of a celebrity."He did not make it sound as if he was offering congratulations or a job well done, he was simply stating a matter of fact.

Preliat and Triam were two different people. Triam had fought for herself and all her personal interests, and had risked her life and limb and wallet to maintain that. He did not know how she had fared in the last few years that they had been apart. His fingers rapped along the table near him, before he made a clicking noise with his teeth.


"Although I'm sure you've heard the stories and reports of how I've fared."

 

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

"Then let's hope there is an old time in the future, and have our current fortunes change for the better." Rather than accept a possibly dirtied drink from the shattered bar, Triam pulled out a canteen of her own brew out of her Bando Baas Gunbelt. She had made use of its minor "duplicating" properties to always have a full glass of alcohol; sometimes she impressed herself with ingenuity... usually when she was buzzed. Raising the canteen after her statement, she guzzled down a sip of the bitter liquid. That laugh Preliat had made Triam sad, knowing more innately the depression behind it, and it was met with her softer more innocent chuckle when he called her a "somewhat of a celebrity".

"Ever since Mikhail Shorn pounded me to a pulp within an inch of my life, I've gradually become a recluse. A few odd jobs here and there, but not enough to hear the stories I'd like to. Though I remember what you were like the last time we last saw... I'll be honest in saying something like this might be fair of me to expect. I imagine you and the Mandalorians are out there burning sith worlds?"

Ignorant even, of the massive repercussions in the galaxy at large. She noticed that there seemed to be more disarray on these worlds, mass disappearance... even some calling it a Rapture. She didn't know how much she should believe, whether or not it was some kind of out rims folktale or something... a huge misunderstanding of the facts. Little did she know she was the one to misunderstand what was going on.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat's eyes darkened, and then softened. Something crossed his mind. Something sad."You and I both know that my fortunes will never change. Struggle is the language I understand. Struggle is the thing that is the constant. It is the path that I have been set upon. I do not know about yourself but...."He paused, thinking over his next words carefully."I feel that I am doomed to a never-ending cycle of pain and sorrow. Inflicting, or receiving."He spoke softly, voice audibly barely above a whisper- but the deadly, monotone tone in which he spoke remained. He was damaged, but not broken. He was a statue with rust and cracks- but still standing in the horrific storm that had been battering it for years.


"I killed Dredge. The rebels gave me close to 20 million credits. The Sith are gaining too much ground. We are losing. The galaxy is losing."He did not mention the disappearance of his wife or child. He knew that others had come up from the Nether, but an inkling had told him that she was not going to be coming back. Pain crossed his features. What was once youthful and hopeful, was now replaced with weary and downtrodden. Preliat was going to be a relic. Preliat was a fast-burning match- he couldn't continue the path in which he had set himself on. It would kill him.

"I killed so many, Triam. I killed so many that it doesn't even bother me anymore."


[member="Triam Akovin"]

 

[Cassus Akovin]

Triam was silent for awhile. Not sure what to say. What Preliat was talking about was beyond her understanding... beyond many people's understanding really. She wondered if she had killed as many people as Preliat had... or saw the things he did, if she would be so downtrodden and depressed. Would she end it? Would she endure like her Mandalorian friend? What would drive her to continue in life if ever action she did resulted in suffering, either for herself or for others? What drove Preliat?

Her train of thought was slightly thrown off track as her friend mentioned a big sum of credits, she came her for money, but knew that she wasn't going to make any today... and old friend taking precedence of course. Right now, her concern was with whether or not Preliat was okay enough in the head. It didn't look good. There was severe damage inside of Preliat... no one was supposed to live through as much as he had, and she had no means of understanding how. She had lived through more things than she should have, the most recent being with her duel with Mikhail... she should be dead because of him... yet she lived somehow, though didn't remember how. That was a choice however. She chose to have the possibility of dying. In essence, she chose when she would suffer, and when death might claim her.

He had no such luxury.

It came on it's own whim and fruition, and to her friend it seemed it would not stop for anything. It was a depressing existence that Triam supposed she would not be able to live through. From that, she learned to admire the Mandalorian in a way... to endure long after when she might have given up. She took danger and death for granted, which was simply impossible for him. But he was on a path that couldn't continue for long... his body may be strong, but the mind would always lose before the body. Mind over matter was a saying that could be used for so much more than the mystic forces of the universe. If Preliat's mind could be indefinitely stronger in the face of suffering, it would be likely he could push his body beyond any recognizable human limit... but that in itself was impossible... he was human... thus his mind had limits to how strong it could be in the face of suffering.

"Preliat..." She began, not really sure if she could continue. How do you talk to somehow who has admitted they no longer care about the deaths they caused... just or unjust, how do you talk to someone who is losing his sense of basic humanity? How do you comfort someone who doesn't even believe they can be considered as anything less than a savage? An animal? Regardless of this discomfort, she tried to finish her thoughts.

"... Preliat, what does bother you? How... what keeps you going in this life? Do you have dreams any more? I... I don't know..." She frowned for her friend, not knowing how to finish her sentence, and suddenly she just felt like drinking until she forgot everything this week...

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"When my sleep gave way to nightmares, dreams and hopes ventured far from my mind."He swirled his drink, thinking on his words."The nightmares soon gave way, as there was nothing more frightening or fearful than the reality I was placed in."He sighed, looking up at Triam, frowning and turning his head. She was right- he was not much of a person anymore. He was a weapon, an attack dog that was let loose on enemies of the Mando'ade. Because he had forgone his identity. Because so much had been taken from him. He pursed his lips and thought again.


"She...she came in. I met her when I was working protection details for her back when the Army of Light was still around. I cannot bring myself to think of any other woman that I could have loved more."He paused again, pain flashing across his dark brown eyes that had seen too much."She was the stars to my sky, the water to my ocean."His bottom lip quivered as he continued."We got married. It was a wonderful ceremony. She became a part of the Mandalorians- she became a part of my family."He wiped welling tears in his eyes.


"She rescued me from the Sith. She helped out my brethren. We had a child. Yasha. Beautiful girl. Would be six now."His eyes drifted downward, a blank sorrow taking over his face. He had cried so much that tears refused to come to his eyes. Instead, an inward, stabbing pain that tore through his heart and pained his mind to the deepest."I have given up the idea that they will return to me someday."



[member="Triam Akovin"]

 

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Tears. Real tears.

She had seen the man become emotional... afraid, enraged... the normal spectrum one would expect out of a hardened warrior. Had she seen this... crushing sadness before, though? She may have, but somehow if she had before it did not connect to her significantly. It wasn't that she discredited the pain that might have been felt before, but it certainly wasn't like this.

If they existed, she didn't feel those tears. These ones, while merely moisture caught within his eyes, she felt. She knew these tears to some extent. Not quite as horrific, but the same loss was present. The death of a family member, any family member, could wreck even the strongest of people. When she was younger, her whole life was wrecked in her mother's eyes when her father died... leading her into a life of sin and self-pursuit rather than the patriotic life of a Republic Soldier that her family most likely sought her out to be. They thought she would fight wars like her father... and she did, but the wars were all personal.

Though none as vast or as arguably noble as Preliat's War.

She felt shallow around him. A droplet of sorrow trying to comfort his ocean with compassion that could only go so far before it was drowned by overwhelming emotion. A small boat riding upon the sadness of her friend, vulnerable to the turbulent waves that lived within him. Waves that roiled within his muscles, and at the slightest disturbance flooded his actions; destroying the lives of anyone who dared add to the burden he carried within him. In talking to him, she attempted to raise her sail, and find the right winds... but there were no right winds... it was a hurricane, and her flimsy boat was battered with hail, tearing any attempt at direction apart.

But she held faith to her dingy, to find the eye of the storm, and to rest there for as long as she could, to find some semblance of peace within him.

That was her metaphorical sail however... she did not put as much faith into her individual words and actions.

"Preliat, you need someone. You need... help. Something... there is only so much I can provide for you as a friend. This though? It kills me to the core... I can't fix it. There is no right answer... and I dare not know what that answer might be if it exists at all. They are gone... but you are here, doing what you've been molded all of your life to do." She set the canteen down a while ago, in listening to his pain, so she reached over the distance between them, to place her hand on his shoulder. He had, had a wife, and children who were gone now... her heart dared her not to embrace him in her sympathies. Desperately, she desired to have some empathetic connection with him, to understand and to help... but she was clean to the only language he understood on the grand spectrum.

She was nothing to him.

"Would you like to travel with me for awhile?"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He felt himself becoming an eerie thing. Weak. He had not remembered the last time he felt truly weak. Felt as if he had some sort of glaring hole in his defense. Here, it was not someone trying to break his guard and pierce his armor, but someone trying to talk to him. He can't remember talking to anyone but Aditya deeply. How he shared all the thoughts he had with her. Now that she was gone, he bowed his head for a moment. He glanced back up at [member="Triam Akovin"]. While her mind wrestled with traversing the ocean of his sorrow, Preliat had long ago drowned in it. His ship had sunk, and he was consumed by it. There was no going anywhere else for him at this point. He was lost.


He leaned back in the chair as Triam spoke. Help. Where would he go? What would he say? The fact of the matter is that he knew what was the matter- everyone knew. Treatment would be talking about it. But Preliat didn't want to share what he had done. Didn't want to go to someone and confess all the sins he had committed. War made him do awful things simply to survive- but he didn't want to tell someone. This burden was his own. From the demon living in his head, to the demons that surrounded him wherever he went. He wore his burdens like chains, chains that weighed him down emotionally. He wasn't attached to anyone. Friends were in the single digits. Family was down to a wayward brother and an absent mother and father.


His eyes flared as she touched his shoulder. Instincts to strike out at her boiled, but he suppressed them, dark, brown eyes meeting Triam's softer gaze.


"My whole life- I have been molded to fight. I cannot create. I do not build. My life- will not be remembered. They do not remember the destroyers. I am a destroyer. That is what I have and will do, Triam."

He thought on her offer for a long while, leaning back in the chair.

"Where would we go? What would I do?"

 

[Cassus Akovin]

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you what you would do. That's for you to decide I suppose, how much you're willing to learn how to forgive yourself. As to where we would go? I don't know that either, but my offer stands." Sensing his discomfort, she removed her hand from his shoulder. Her throat hurt with a strange sense of guilt that she couldn't provide him with more answers. There wasn't much else for her to say. Preliat didn't seem capable of decided whether or not he was merely damaged or entirely gone. One moment he is a damaged blade, cutting without purpose, and another moment he has already drowned in his own sorrow. There was a delicate and fragile balance within him, and the worst part of it was that she didn't even know where not to step.

She figured that if she were ever to solve his problems, he had to take a look first... and then come to her. She needed him to provide the tools to operate, but she was almost certainly that wasn't what he wanted. Whatever is he wanted, it wasn't clear to her... or at least, it wasn't clear what he wanted that was real and living. It was obvious this latest tide of sorrow had been from a missing family... and you couldn't bring that back. Not ever.

That kind of pain was permanent. It never truly left one's soul. It was a language of its own, and she was an utter novice at speaking it. She was trying to communicate with someone who was fluent in a whole other spectrum of experience she had only tapped the surface of. How do you convince someone to unlearn that without destroying everything that they are?

"I think the first step though, is getting you out of here if you want to leave for awhile. As long as you need." Standing up, she could hear the police outside getting impatient. If it took much longer they might send in a team to take check on the situation and remove Preliat by force... again. That's something she'd rather not deal with.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Not a word could cross Preliat's mind for what he was feeling. He was angry- partially. For the most part. He wasn't sure how to feel, actually. He just stared at [member="Triam Akovin"] for a while, before his hands fell to his knees, and he rose to a stand. He picked up his helmet, blinking.


He didn't say anything as he slipped on his helmet. He just started for the door. He paused, with the red and blue lights flashing behind him, casting a shadow over him. He seemed ghost-like, more of an apparition of the man that was Preliat Mantis.


"There is no such thing as a happy ending for me. There is no version of my story where anything I do will result in me being happy anymore. That option doesn't exist anymore."

Preliat walked outside, with his hands in the air. Police started to swarm around him, barking orders. Preliat didn't resist. He could have- and he could have fared well. He just didn't.

 

[Cassus Akovin]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Triam sighed.

She only knew how to kark things up. There was no convincing Preliat to do anything, and there really never was any hope. To think that she could even be a people person was a stretch, it was mind boggling she even attempt therapist on a person like Preliat. But she desperately wanted to help him. She felt compelled to, had they not been friends? Was all that worthless now? Was Triam even a friend any more? It was all she was trying to be for Preliat, but it looks like she can't even be that any more. In hindsight, she doubted a man who isn't even willing to fix himself up can have friends. Morbid thoughts crept into her head, wondering how even trudged through the day and just didn't end it all.

It was a difficult pill to swallow that if she were in a similar position, she would have been the weaker man. Preliat brought her back to level ground... but it was only because he was so far under it already.

As he stepped out the door, she went after him in a light jog. If he wasn't going to follow her then he needed to hear this... or at least, she needed to hear herself try one last time to return some flicker of light into the man. It must have been hopeless of course, but her heart needed to hear what she had to say to him before they disappeared from each other again. She saw the police bring him to the ground, tiny swallows pecking at a lumbering wolf the size of a mountain, the giant submitting because he chooses to. What were they going to do? Bring him to jail? The sound of that thought felt sickening and unnatural; there was no way he could allow himself to be detained. In her mind, it wasn't allowable. That wasn't Preliat to her. She shouted over the din, as police officials tried to swarm her and pay her.

"Preliat! I will remember you! I will remember..." There wasn't much she could say in her present situation, but she said what she could. That singular point that Preliat dared say would never happen for him, Triam would fight him here. She would remember him. There was no way of knowing if this would have an impact on him... but Triam had always been the dramatic.

She would be dramatic for the Mandalorian that fought with her, tended to her drunken stupors, and looked out for her. The only one that had.