Falling Star [Kila's Return to Mandalore]

[Kila Cadau]

Kila was tired.

No - not tired. She was exhausted, maybe even beyond that. It was a task keeping her remaining intact eyelid open. She didn't have to worry about the other eye - it had been sliced into so much white spongy tissue months ago.

It wasn't the massive amounts of physical activity that had gotten to her - the running, climbing, shooting, stabbing, fighting, brawling - no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was remembering. There was a definite and very long gap between the prison and a week or two ago - the timeline was fuzzy - and in that gap she had no memories. None. Nada. Zero. Zilch. It was worrying, because there was a clinical nature to the hunk of memory that had been removed. She remembered walking out of the prison, holding a hand over her newly ruined left eye, hearing something, and then -

(nothing)

Nothing at all for months. Her memory worked again when she was standing in an alley, with her weapons and armor, surrounded by a bunch of dead people. Now, she was headed back to Manda'yaim with a massive headache that refused to go away - remembering hurt, too - and a few new injuries she'd picked up, including some hairline fractures in a couple ribs, a gash on her left calf that was oozing blood, and a wicked burn on her right arm. It was tempting - very tempting - to just go the kark to sleep and take her chances on waking up. The leftover Sithly residue that she didn't know about wasn't helping matters either.

But then again, that wasn't Kila's style.

Manda'yaim was close, and she could almost feel it. She was closing in on it in her old, faithful Netra Kyr'am, and she would be damned before she showed up on Manda'yaim out cold.

That just wouldn't be dignified.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Sir."


Preliat's head picked up from the screen below him, his hands drifting away from the various interfaces.


"Make it important or I'll make it bloody."


"We picked up a signature you told us to look for."


Preliat's head turned.

 

[Doctor Azure]

Thryk was having a little bit of fun on this patrol. The speeder he was using was a souped-up model of his own design, and he loved it. He was reflecting on that, and the fact that most of his friends among the Mando'a seemed to have died or disappeared. The closest thing he had left was Bekker and that Mantis guy... And he didn't like that guy. So, when Bekker came up on the comm, he smiled and let the wind roar in his hair.

Bekker was clearly in a bar, somewhere. He was very relaxed, and very unarmored. In the background, there was a large crash, and somebody shouted "Oya!" Bekker cringed, and turned back to Thryk's holoimage, grinning. Without even a greeting, he started talking, "Thryk, I think I found her."

Thryk just shrugged and shook his head before replying, "Who, Bek? If it's another girl you're trying to set me up with, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He just grinned even wider, trying not to laugh. He looked like he was trying not to jump up and down, "No, Thryk. She's a friend of yours. You, and that wonderful Field Marshal with a name that sounds like a car."

Thryk couldn't help but laugh, but his mind was filing through all the Mando'ade women he'd ever dated, gone on missions with, or slept with. Many of the ladies he was thinking of fell into all three categories. There were only two who'd ever just gone on missions with me. One was a Chiss girl who had probably gone and gotten herself exiled or something, and the other was Rally Master Kila Cadau. His eyes widened, and he replied, "It's Kila, isn't it? She's back?"

He stopped the speeder, and pulled it around, back to the city. Bekker just nodded, satisfied that his work was done, and he shut the comm off.

[member="Kila Cadau"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Grozurra]

Grozurra was also suffering from a headache that refused to go away. The wookiee's, however, was to be blamed on a large supply... a 'former' large supply... a 'dearly departed' supply of... a supply of alcohol that would be missed, were it not for the darkside inducing headache that throbbed through his skull from its passing.

For the wookiee's part, the headache was being managed in the most logical of ways. Seeking to escape the piercing spike in his headache every time a person, pedestrian, or object made a noise, as well as the sudden nausea that followed his less than peaceful attempts to silence the offender... Grozurra eventually found himself seeking asylum in the quietest place the wookiee knew of. Space.

Grozurra drifted through the void of space with external comms disabled and silencers activated. It was peaceful for about seven seconds.

Then the nausea hit.

 

[Kila Cadau]

As the planet came into view, Kila leaned forward to open a comm line to the planet, then hissed in a breath when the movement jarred her ribcage, making her fall back in her chair. Her head pounded a little harder. Everything seemed to make something worse, either her ribs or her head or leg. Usually more than one, she reflected cynically, eying the bloodstains on the console where she'd smashed her head after passing out from trying to remember anything in that memory gap. There was a crust of dried blood at her hairline for that, and her ribs had not thanked her. Since then, she had decided to just leave that section of memory - or lack of - alone.

She wondered how her friends were doing. Azrael - the young man she'd found on Ord Mantell. He was a natural Mandalorian. She smiled slightly. A good man, capable, confident. A good leader, as well.

Then there was Ordo. Last she'd heard of him, he had been at his wedding, but undoubtably there had been some changes.

Preliat was another one she thought of on occasion. He'd changed a lot since they first met, but he was a tough son of a hutt. Chances were good he'd still be around...if he hadn't lost his marbles completely.

Just a short nap? Her mind pleaded. Kila's eyelids felt like lead, but she shook her head stubbornly, biting down on her tongue to try and keep herself awake. She eyed the comms again, then used her good leg to swivel the chair so she could reach the comm panel -

(OW)

No sale. Kila leaned back in her chair. If they needed to talk to her - well, when - then she'd answer, but at the moment, she would rather put off the painful inevitability of having to move.

[member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Thryykarr"] [member="Grozurra"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Location: Garon Homestead, A few clicks North East of Keldabe.

Strider strutted out onto his porch naked as a baby and a half lit cigar protruding out the side of his mouth while his left hand grasped a mug of hot caffa. His finally chiseled body was exposed to the elements, his many scars were a history lesson in violence and pure evidence of the hellish glories he has endured. His eyes were focused on the two women making their way back to their speeder, a short distant walk of shame. The two were beautiful waitresses from the Oyu'baat, a very friendly zeltron and a ever so talented twi'lek. The night was good to the old man, especially now that the had pills that helped old die hards like himself keep up with the younger crowd.

"Thank the Manda for Stri'agra!" He chuckled to himself as he waved after the beautiful ladies in a goodbye. Strider then made his way to a his favorite rocking chair made from Wroshyr wood. His naked ass touched the could surface making the old warrior cringe in momentary discomfort before his body heat warmed the wood. Taking a long swig of his caffa he watched the birds in the distance squawking in the nearby forest. The Garon homestead was heaven to Strider, his place of peace and quiet..... and the occational debauchery.

Placing his mug down on a matching table to his right and then pick up the datapad from the same table. Strider puffed away on his cigar, naked and enjoying his moment of quiet while catching up on events through his datapad while rocking away in his chair.

[member="Kila Cadau"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Sir I advise against this, we don't know if this is a trap-"


The young Sergeant was silenced with a swiping of the hand. Preliat would have none of it. He marched towards the small hangar near the edge of the base, heading to his firespray.


"Sir, do you want me to inform Aditya?"


"No."


And with that, he began to slowly take off- towards [member="Kila Cadau"].

 

[Kila Cadau]

A beep from the ship's computers jarred Kila out of her state of half-wakefulness, half-unconsciousness. She turned her head and noticed the approaching Preliat - oh, yes, and his ship. A slow smile spread across her face, which fleetingly turned into a grimace when her head injury was irritated before returning to the original smile.

The Mandalorian Rally Master leaned across to the comm panel, gasping in pain as the motion jarred her ribs, and managed to open a frequency before snapping back into her original position with a strangled grunt of pain. "Suy cuy'gar, ner vod." She managed, sounding tired and in pain but glad. She was glad - glad to be home, glad to be done with the nightmare of the last...however long it had been since she'd last set foot on Manda'yaim.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat's ship approached [member="Kila Cadau"]'s, drifting towards her, gentle thrusts letting him get close without expending too much effort. He walked back calmly, grasping his helmet before making his way to the airlock. Magnetic boots locked into place, as he slid his helmet onwards. A hiss and a clicking of seals told him he was ready. As the air lock opened, he felt it- the coldness of space, and the lack of air. The lack of anything. Sounds, for the most part. He took a leap towards Kila's ship, drifting towards her airlock. He tapped his crushgaunts on the hull- must've been loud in the quiet ship.


He drifted towards her airlock, silent as a mouse.

 

[Kila Cadau]

Kila heard the tap of crushgaunts echoing through the Kyr'am and smiled again. She stood to make her way to the airlock -

- and immediately remembered why you didn't do that when her injured left calf shook and folded beneath her, sending one hundred and seventy seven pounds of beskar'gaam-clad Mandalorian to the floor with an enormous crash that probably woke the dead on Coruscant. Following immediately after - and almost as loud - was a generous fifteen-seconds of obscenities directed at the nexu who was responsible for Kila's leg injury, as well as the creature's master. The bellowed vulgarities died down to mutters as Kila pulled herself upright and limped the rest of the way over to the airlock, putting as little pressure on her left leg as possible.

Moving when injured, Kila decided silently, was stupid and distinctly unfun.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat watched as [member="Kila Cadau"] opened the airlock, and stepped inside. The door sealed shut behind him, and pressurized air flooded the compartment. He blinked, then rubbed his helmet with his crushgaunt adorned hand. As soon as it was safe, he removed the helmet. Black hair fell behind his head, and beaded and braided bands of hair fell towards the front. He stepped in, and looked down at Kila.



"If I were single and you weren't beaten up, I'd go full Strider on you- minus the extreme disappointment on the female side."He slid down on the bulkhead adjacent from her. The Field Marshal placed his hands on his knees, blinking at her."Got a plan of action?"

 

[Kila Cadau]

Kila's helmet was sitting back in the cockpit somewhere, probably in the copilot's chair -- she'd rather lost track of it but she knew it was somewhere on the ship. When [member="Preliat Mantis"] spoke, she laughed, then stopped abruptly with a wince. "Ah...don't make me laugh, ner vod, my ribs are barely holding together as it is." She managed, shaking her head, but her good eye was glittering with mirth nonetheless.

Plan, plan, what was the plan? Is there a plan? Was there a plan? Well yes, there was a plan, but it wasn't very good. "My plan of action is to land this rustbucket on Mandalore, buy myself six or seven drinks, then go back to the yaim and sleep for a week."

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"I'm not sure how to get my ship and yours back to the surface together."He admitted. His hand reached for a pouch- aching for a cigarette right about now. He blinked, before tapping his head against the hull.



"We can't treat you until you get back- so I have a few options, most of which leave this rustbucket up here, and I fly you back down."


[member="Kila Cadau"]

 

[Kila Cadau]

Kila nodded once. "That'll work." She decided, privately making a mental file - more a notice, really - to bring down the Kyr'am when she had the opportunity. She had a lot of mental files and notes, most of them kept in a securely locked box in the back of her head.


[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat stood up slowly, his Beskar-coated metal leg's gears winding. [member="Kila Cadau"] could probably hear it, to some degree."I'm having a daughter soon."He said bluntly. To be quite honest, it'd always been in the back of his mind that someday he'd end up with Kila- for a night or for a while. But that ship had sailed, though there was some unspoken feelings on his part, or moreso truths. He held his helmet at his side, and noticed hers wasn't in sight.


He assumed it was at the cockpit. Excusing himself (rather polite and rare for Preliat), he retrieved it from the copilots chair, and threw it at Kila's front."Keep track of your things, you jammy girl. Now, get up- or do I need to help you up? We'll leave this piece of crap in orbit until we can get it later."The wolf waited for her to do something or say something stupid, or- for once- ask for help directly.

 

[Kila Cadau]

Kila, however, was possessed of obliviousness and stubbornness in equal measures, and if either one could somehow be manifested into a physical state, it would probably be the size of the entirety of Mandalorian space. So she smiled at Preliat's pronouncement that he was having a daughter. "Congratulations." She said warmly.

Her mood - or at least her facial expression - changed completely when Preliat asked if he needed to help her up. "I am capable of standing on my own, I think." She said dryly, her jaw set and she snatched up her helmet as she got to her feet, swaying and nearly falling over again, but managed to stand without help. Well done, you stubborn idiot.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]