Comfortably Numb

[Revenchent]

The sweet coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils as he took off his helmet. Blue eyes narrowed as they peered out into smokey din of the bar in search of anyone else with big enough balls to draw: Cal surmised that there was a severe shortage of courage in this shady hole in the wall.

The warrior peered down at the Ubese bounty hunter that had decided Cal would make for a nice paycheck. The near-human stared up at him through glassy eyes, his bloodied hands clutching at the bleeding hole in his neck.

"Was it worth the credits?" Cal asked quietly as he met his attacker's eyes. The Ubese could only gurgle in response. Cal shook his head. "Didn't think so."

He turned to meet the bartender's gaze. "Was he the only one?" A brow was lofted.

The bartender, a Weequay, jerked his leathery head toward the door. "No, and I'd rather you not make another mess. Time to go Cal."

The Mandalorian lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug, "I understand. You can have whatever that guy had on him, should pay for the cleaning."

The Weequay grunted. "You'd better hope so."

Cal slipped a credit chip across the counter, grabbed his helmet, and meandered out of the bar. A bright Coruscant night greeted him as he stepped out into the smoke-choked streets of the lower levels.

Rather than wander off, Calico posted himself up outside of the bar. He clipped his helm to his belt, folded his arms around his chest, and contented himself to watching the crowds flow past him.

If the Weequay was correct, then the night wasn't done being interesting. The warrior maintained a visual over the general area as he produced a cigarillo from his belt and lit it. A moment of relief flooded Calico's senses as the smoke filled his lungs; he let it sit there for a few moments before expelling it out into the night sky.

Relaxation fell over Cal immediately, but it was an alert form of relaxed. His anxieties about being hunted were quelled, and all that remained was a predatory calm that made most being avert their gaze from his.

It was only a matter of time.

 

[Strider Garon]

It was pure instinct for the mandalorian to grip for his blaster pistol. He was in the back storage room of the cantina where he was delivering crates of alcohol to this establishment. He was a man not shy of violence for decades of waging war and conquering planets after planets had harden the old retired soldier to the shock of it all. He was not clad in beskar like most mandalorians would be. To be frank, he was very much under armed and under armored for the likes of his culture. He drew his trusty K-11 blaster pistol and slinked towards the access door that would lead out into the cantina and where the shots had been fired. Strider wore a simple black muscle shirt that exposed his muscular arms, one real.... one obviously bionic. The mandalorian tribal tattoo on his right arm was very distinct and certainly identified him as mando for those who did not recognize one of the galaxies most dangerous warrior. He also wore simple black pants and combat boots along with his old worn red headband.

The old man rounded the corner cautiously, witnessing the likes of a fellow mando'ad leaving the bar and a bloody mess in his wake. Seemed the issue was a private matter and the threat had been contained just as fast as it had started. That was good, nothing like a mass shooting to ruin a business day. With that the old man holstered his pistol and walked up to the disgruntled weequay bartender. He heard the bartender name the shooter, a mandalorian that Strider knew and recognized. He looked down at the lifeless body and that back up to the weequay "Crates have been unloaded!'

Strider was already paid for his service, this just concluded the job. Strider would walk past the mess on the floor and out the main entrance. The beskar clad form was not hard to pick out of the crowd. The green tinged armor of Tal'verda was no stranger to his eyes and he walked up cautiously and nonthreatening like. "See you still know how to make friends, Cal!" His deep resonating voice echoed once he was in range. Curious to see how [member="Calico Tal'verda"] would react to the Loyalist, the old man kept his senses on edge.

 

[Revenchent]

The familiar baritone of Garon pulled Cal from his momentary stupor.

The warrior reacted with a furrowed brow and alert eyes, but his visage swiftly relaxed as he confirmed that it was indeed Strider. The past week had been spent running and gunning through the lower levels, though it was by Calico's own choice. He'd grown somewhat addicted to the adrenaline and excitement that accompanied being a prey item.

He put those instincts on hold as he allowed himself to crack a small smile. Garon had been one of the handful of individuals within the Mando'ade that Cal had come to respect - he hadn't forgotten the older warrior's choice to stand up for Cal's clone brethren when Mantis had challenged their right to existence.

"He didn't like my jokes," Cal gestured back into the cantina, "Most of these thugs have a poor sense of humor."

He paused, offering Strider the blunt between his fingers, "What brings you this far from the homeland Field Marshal?"

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider waved off the offer of Cal's cig and pulled out a half smoked shento cigar instead " Thanks, but i like these better". He lit the end and took a few quick puffs to get the embers hot and the bitter smoke pumping. " I am not marshal anymore Cal! Been retired for some time now" He took a long deep drag, letting hte smoke roll over his tongue and assaulting his pallet. "Sides, the young pups are stepping up and taking charge. Old Men can't lead forever."

"Now i just spend my time making deliveries and traveling. When called upon I help out where i can when the Mandalorians are in need. The young wolf Yasha seems to have things in hand and has rarely needed guidance or advice from me to keep her on track. Young as she is, she has turned out to be a great leader of our people!"

Strider took another drag and release "What about you Cal? I haven't heard much about Clan Tal'verda since the..... Dominion". The dominion and there mandalorian sub sect. Seems where ever you went in this galaxy there was a clan or two hiding under the wings of a larger entity.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Strider asked obvious and harmless questions, but for Calico they were pointed. The warrior regarded the old warlord with quiet curiosity, and decided to humor him. That was far more than most got these days.

"So I've heard. The new Mand'alor is younger than my youngest daughter would be today," Cal noted with a hint of ironic amusement. "I've kept clear of our people's politics. There wasn't anything left for me there after the cataclysm that tore Kurs'taylir and the rest of Mandalore apart."

He paused, inclining his head curiously as Strider asked of the Tal'verda. "The clan is dead, so far as I know. The vast majority of us were killed during the cataclysm. If you're referring to my errant nephew Zaz and his escapades, I do my best to ignore whatever he gets up to."

Another pause, "There's a handful of us running around, but I don't keep contact. I'm not responsible for anyone but myself these days." Cal looked Strider straight in the eyes, "Y'all figured out what bastard ended up causing the cataclysm, didn't you?"

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Strider Garon]

"Yeah.... Mia Munroe is dead. Ijaat has not been seen" Strider spat on the ground, washing his mouth of the very names that so disgust him.

Strider puffed on his shento listening intently on how the warrior before him answered. "Yasha may be young but she had been aged and refined in hell" and such words were true, the young girl was tossed into hell and return a young woman that been carved and chiseled by the perils of the netherworld. The real crime was she never got to enjoy a real child upbringing "Though she is short in tooth, she has proven herself to be one of the great leaders for our people. She has rebuilt Mandalore and the mando'ade thrive under her. Ego does not handicap her and she is more than willing to listen to the voices of her people." Strider dragged on his shento " I can go on forever the merits of having the likes of her holding the mantle but it is honestly something someone should just experience first hand. Come back to the homeworld and see first hand Calico, approach her and you will see what i mean."

"Also shame to hear that the Tal'verdas have suffered, but like true to the mandalorian spirit ....... they will never be extinguished." The old man placed a strong grip on Cal's armored shoulder in what could be considered brotherly affection. "Vode, when you are ready, come home and rebuild. If you need help, all you need to ask. "

[member="Calico Tal'verda"]