Duel Of Liberation & Honor [Allyson Locke vs Mia Monroe]

[Allyson Locke]

//: Mia Monroe //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equipment in Sig //:

"Yeah, it's just a quick meeting."

The capital buzzed, its inhabitants not knowing what wandered their streets under the protective dome. Stalls with ripe produce fresh from their farms, desert fruits that flourished with the atmosphere of the brutalized world.

"Yeah, Mandalore," Allyson spoke into her comm device as she picked up a prickled pear and examined it. "I'm surprised too; maybe Seris can show us around — she's spent a lot of time here?"

The fruit found its place back with its fellows as the Corellian moved stalls. Her eyes widened slightly as she chuckled softly.

"Right, Eshan."

She stopped at a smith's shop and entered, the bell announcing her arrival. Her footsteps were quiet as she wandered, examining the crafted tools of the Mandalorian culture. It was an odd homecoming for the woman; she had been raised through her teenage years by a Mandalorian. He was unconventional, but he was still someone who had become a father figure for her.

"I won't get into trouble, just a conversation…" Allyson paused; an etching that brought back a flood of memories caught her attention. It seemed the owner of the shop was a distant cousin of hers.

"Yeah, it's about Ember, just unfinished business."

There was silence on the other end; they both knew what Allyson was implying.

"I will." A smile, "I love you too."

Allyson closed the device and shoved it into the pocket of her jacket and wandered to the shop's counter. The conversation was brief, and the man recognized a few of the names and phrases that the Corellian used. She was a Rekali… she had been raised by one of their greatest, and he would do anything to help family.

She shook the man's hand and left with the package tucked carefully under her arm. The trip to the homestead would be a bit longer than she had anticipated, but it was worth it.

As she walked towards the edge of the capital, a hand brushed gently against one of the swoop bikes that were parked near the gates. It roared to life, and she tucked the package carefully as her leg swung over the saddle. With ease, the stolen swoop took off with the determined woman heading straight to a place she never thought she'd find.

The desert was vast. Nothing but shrubbery tried its best to rise from the cracks of the dead world. Allyson carefully tucked herself into the thickest part she had found and, using the cybernetic eye, she was able to get a view of the home that Mia Monroe had made for herself.

"What a shithole." She murmured under her breath.

The woman she had been hunting for years was hiding so plainly in the open. There seemed to be more opportunities than Allyson had originally anticipated. Mia Monroe was a hero to the Mandalorian people, but to Allyson — she was not the liberator; she was a murderer.

Allyson understood the irony. There was probably someone out there, hunting her, looking for her for revenge for the deaths she had caused. She knew that one day, her life would end by the hands of revenge and hate.

Today wasn't that day, though; today was her day.

Shaking her head, she tried to pull herself from her thoughts. Thinking of Ember, remembering that connection being severed brutally, as it was only made her chest feel heavy. Everything ached again; he had been her lifeline, the one that kept her safe till she was ready.

And yet, she often wondered if he would be disappointed with what she had become.

The sun had begun to sink, stretching long shadows across the open desert. Allyson moved within them, her Force cloak bending the fading light around her while the Art of the Small concealed her presence. Her steps barely disturbed the sand, leaving neither print nor sound as she slipped toward the homestead.

The package emerged from beneath her jacket.

Before she could act, something mechanical groaned through the Force.

Allyson froze, her attention snapping toward the front door. Only then did she notice the behemoth sleeping beside it. Careless. She extended one hand, reaching through the machine to catch its turning cogs and silence them one by one.

She waited until the Basilisk's low hum faded into stillness.

With its protector gone, Allyson released a quiet breath. She needed to focus. There was no room for mistakes, and Mia Monroe had earned her reputation for a reason.

Keeping low, Allyson crept past the dormant war droid, drew back her arm, and hurled the brick of Mandalorian steel through the window.

The moment the sound of crashing glass echoed, she had already been moving to another window that was on the adjacent wall. It gave her a cross view of when the woman would go and check what had happened.

Allyson remained hidden, her bow drawn; she had chosen the armor-piercing version of her nanite arrows. Its barb-tipped arrowhead was designed to cut through any bit of armor or protection as if it were not there.

The moment Mia came into view, Allyson would release the arrow without hesitation.

She was here to kill Mia Monroe, avenge the death of Ember Rekali, and finally do something that brought honor to her claim on the Rekali legacy.

 

[Mia Monroe]

Tags: Allyson Locke

The Monroe homestead was out in the sticks for a number of reasons, but mostly it was a space far enough away from the city that responsibility and title could be set aside, it was a place that Mia could just be Mia. It had never been built for protection, there were no defences, just a retired basilisk too senile and old to ride.

Her armour rested on a purpose built stand in the bedroom, far out of reach from her comfortable place on the couch, the datapad in her hand drawing a frown as she skimmed the report. Abandoning the southern territories had been the right call but the work behind it had not been easy, recalling troops and redistributing them always came with hiccups.

Quiet settled over the house as the sun began to slip away and Mia put the datapad down. It was a problem for tomorrow. Rising from the couch she stretched, wondering if Tessa had set any leftovers aside for her when something uneasy crept up her spine. The homestead was never silent, there were hums throughout, from the generator, the fridge and the ancient metallic beast that sat watch by the front door.

But there was no hum from A’den.

There was more than that though, there was something looming in the force, the kind of unease that came just before everything went to shit and it was not a sensation she typically ignored. She moved for the porch doors, peering at the desert beyond them, her fingers barely curling around the door handle when something crashed through the kitchen window, denting the counter top and it landed, skidding across it and landing on the floor with a deep thunk.

For a moment Mia didn’t move, waiting to see if whatever it was was explosive or if it would start hissing as it dispersed whatever it might contain. But there was nothing. She stepped towards the kitchen peering behind the island counter to see the shining brick. Was that beskar?

She stepped fully around the counter, to pick it up and the moment she did there was a softer shattering of glass to her left, head head whipped round in time to glimpse the sleek arrowhead before it slammed into her shoulder, spinning her into the counter, she dropped to the floor, letting momentum take her out of the window line.

Leaning against the cupboard she reached to feel the wound. The arrow head had passed through, missing the joint but grazing the shoulder blade on its exit. She should have been in agony, but pain was nothing, an irritation quieted with crucitorn, she reached around feeling the arrow head and its barbed tip and swore. It would have to stay where it was.

She crawled to the kitchen sink, pulling open the doors beneath it and retrieving the revolver fixed to the side along with ammo. She clicked it open, sliding the slugs unhurriedly into place with soft clicks like this was nothing more than just another Taungsday.

“You sure you wanna do this?” she called out, knowing whoever had shot her would still be around. They’d need to confirm their kill afterall.