The Mantis Brothers Grimm

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Silas Mantis"]. A name that stung Preliat's ears. A name that he had hoped to leave behind on that forsaken desert planet. A person that he hoped would remain safe on the homestead, surrounded by his many other brothers and sisters and taking care of their mother and their aging father. But instead, he had caught wind. A wind that crept through his soul, whispered in his ear, and made his innermost demons stir. What demons had he been hiding? What monsters lingered in the depths of his soul? Silas knew some. The guilt of leaving home. The shame of hiding what he had become from his family. So here he was, outside a bar on Nal Hutta. Life day decorations did little to improve his sour mood, as he entered the seedy den. It was a sort of spice bar, but he knew that Silas was above drugs and above mindless drinking. His brother, he feared- was as clever as he was. He entered, not wearing his Beskar'gam. He wasn't widely known face-wise, and most hadn't seen him without his helmet. He wasn't famous outside the Mandalorian community, and he doubted anyone on Nal Hutta watched Null-hockey seriously enough to remember him playing a few years ago.


So Preliat took a seat at a table in the middle, and began to scope out the place for his estranged sibling.

 

[Silas Mantis]

That hurt.

Silas stumbled back as a fist slammed into his jaw. Guy was big, a trandoshan, one who'd made a habit of killing and enslaving wookies. If there was one thing Silas hated, it was slavers, filthy bastards. As the second drunken punch came, Silas was ready, catching it under the wrist and using the piece of shit's forward momentum to flip him over his shoulder and slam him onto his back. The spiced up trando hissed before Silas put a boot into his throat and yanked a vibroknife from his waist. Removing his foot he bent over and wrapped a hand around the lizard's chin and put the blade to his throat. "It's over." Silas growled, blood mixing with spittle from the blow the slaver had landed. Of course the trandoshan drunkenly began hissing as Silas debated whether it would be worth taking him alive, and getting the strange sense he was being watched by someone more important than the patrons of the bar. Wasn't worth it. With one swift motion blood spattered across the floor and the bar gasped in unison, momentarily shocked, then went back about their business.

Standing up he sheathed the blade and wiped to blood from his lip. This job hadn't been about credits, but they certainly didn't hurt.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

His heart fell to the floor. The way that Silas handled the man. The way that he ruthlessly handled him, in front of everyone. He began to understand the lack of apathy that he possessed- it must have made it easier for him to live with himself since Elrood. Silas, unfortunately seemed to modeling himself after Preliat. And it sickened him. He stood up, placing his hands on the table, before cracking his knuckles. He made his way across the cantina, and stood beside him. Dark brown eyes glanced over to the younger Mantis brother."Is it over?"He growled, narrowing his eyes.


[member="Silas Mantis"]

 

[Silas Mantis]

Chills ran down his spine, he knew exactly who he was dealing with the second he saw his shadow. "Why are you here?" He snarled back, turning to face his elder brother. The two weren't on the dandiest of terms, their reunion had been less than jovial, and they'd parted ways afterwards. Why the feth he'd sowed up here, looking for him was beyond the young Mandolorian, it didn't fit with his brother's new character. To answer his brothers question about 'it' being over, thinking he meant the job, he kicked the trando's head forcefully, snapping it to the side and widening the slash in it's throat. The thing was dead, job was over, but Silas had a feeling the night was far from done.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat's hands curled into fists, but they did not fly from the seams of his pants where they rested atop of."I am here to find you."He admitted in a hiss, a weakness that not many had seen in his eyes. He was afraid. His eyes danced around the room, before he noticed some more of the burly and suspicious types starting to move closer to them. Pincer movement. Snapping when your prey was distracted, giving them no hope of escape."And pull your ass out of the fire- and show you where it'll lead you."He grabbed his brother by his bicep, and began to pull him towards the door of the cantina.


"I counted six of them. I doubt the man you just murdered was acting alone. The business you're hunting is the most ruthless and efficient business in the galaxy. So I hope you're prepared for a long night."


[member="Silas Mantis"]

 

[Silas Mantis]

"Besides you." Silas muttered harshly. He'd missed them, all six of them. He could've sworn he'd checked this place up and down, he'd been observing this damn joint for a few days now, yet he'd missed them. Silas mentally slapped himself in the face before returning his mind to the task at hand. "Safehouse two blocks north, a few rifles and such. Would good be a good place to go." He suggested, moving with his elder sibling towards the exit, intentionally ignoring the part about his ass in the fire. Silas knew what he was doing, he could handle himself. His teenage ego had told him so.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

The men began to follow the Mantis brothers, but Preliat lost them in the hustle and bustle of the city. One of them made it close to them, but Preliat turned a corner, and looked at [member="Silas Mantis"] sternly, eyeing the safehouse, or at least, the presumed location of it."Deathwish or just stupid?"He said, gritting his teeth. Preliat, even unarmored, was a force to be reckoned with- something that either his brother or his targets was about to discover.


"I know you don't like me here."

 

[Silas Mantis]

"Stupid." He grunted, presuming the inquiry had been about why he'd been doing this. A part of him had been trying to be a hero when he'd started, but a few slavers in the idea of heroes began to fade very quickly. When his brother remarked about Silas not wanting him present the teen almost laughed. "Weird for that to be on the other foot isn't it?" He questioned harshly, eyes locking onto the man in pursuit.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat shoved [member="Silas Mantis"] hastily into the doorway of the safehouse, and slammed the door control's so hard that he was afraid they were going to break. The door slid shut behind them, locking in place with magnetic seals that would keep their would be attackers at bay.


"I know you also know why I did what I did. I didn't want you being out here. In the galaxy. Alone."

Preliat drifted up the stairs, fixing his eyes on the collection of rifles laying about. M45s. Standard issue Mandalorian battle rifle. His design. He picked it up, checking the charges and the weapon in general. Either Silas got them out of crates, or he maintained his weapons well.


"Tell me what you know."

 

[Silas Mantis]

"I killed the leader, drinking problem made taking him easy. The rest of the crew is supposed to be off world, going home to family. They're a wild bunch, ridiculously aggressive and have no real sense of caution. They'll be heading for our front door. Flanking should be easy." The younger of the two mandolorians informed his elder, grabbing an M45 and cradling the high powered weapon in his arms, eyes darting from his brother to door rapidly. Silas wasn't scared, quite the opposite, maybe he'd taken introduction to the battlefield better than Preliat, because he felt right at home. And insofar his moral compass hadn't fallen apart like some other people's had. No names.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat turned his head towards his brother, finding a wave of disappointment wash over him like a tidal wave. How he loathed the man he had created. He tapped his hands on the weapon, debating whether to yell, berate, or hit. Instead, he chose to speak.


"You don't find any irony in what you just said?"


He eyed the door, then shook his head.


"We'll wait. They'll leave, and when they do- we go hit them at the source."


[member="Silas Mantis"] began to remind him of what he hated what he had become.

 

[Silas Mantis]

"Simple enough."

Sit and wait, patience was a virtue, all that good stuff. The young Mandolorian could appreciate his brother's plan, not that he appreciated the criticism that proceeded it. There was constructive criticism, and just trying to make him feel like an idiot, the teenager choose to believe that latter. His eyes darted across the room to [member="Preliat Mantis"] and Silas felt a sense of regret flood over him.

"You gone home to see the family? They didn't believe me when I said I found you." He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his lips. It showed he actually gave a damn, which was exactly what he was trying to hide from his older brother. Thus far he thought he'd been doing well, but now, now he didn't really know.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"You say the word home like I connect the place I was born and the place I was raised to be the same place."He growled in retort to his teenage brother, turning his head towars [member="Silas Mantis"]. So he did give a damn. He actually cared. But again, why come out here- alone, practically against every person and killer in whatever slave ring he was going after?


Preliat's body slumped atop of one of the weapon boxes, laying the barrel of the weapon on the shoulder and letting the stock hit the floor between his knees."We'll move at dark. Two or three hours, tops."He ran his finger across the safety of the M45, admiring his creation.


"You like the rifle?"


[member="Silas Mantis"]

 

[Silas Mantis]

"Hasn't failed me yet." Silas replied, taking in the details of his brother's plan. Move in the dark, take them in the quiet of the night. Lifting up the bed in the room with relative ease, the teenager grabbed a duo of tomahawks and tossed one of his personal weapons to [member="Preliat Mantis"]. "Heard we have similar tastes in close quarters." He remarked, lowering the bed back down quietly. These slavers had been a test to him, to see if he could do what Prelate could, and so far the result was a resounding 'not yet'. But soon. He hoped anyway, considering the alternative was dying.

Silas wondered if something was wrong with him, he had since he'd first taken a life, he hadn't even flinched. He felt no remorse when the marksman rifle he'd been wielding spat out a bolt of energy, in fact all he'd felt was recoil. Did that make him less human and more monster? Or was that just normal? These questions plagued him like the gulag virus itself. "When you first killed, did you feel anything?"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Me either."His head didn't even move- his hand reached up for the tomahawk, and caught it in his well-worn fingers. He flexed his hands around the handle, then his eyes flickered up to his brother. Little brother. Once so quiet and so small- now so large and so angry. All because of him."Heard someone was copying me that wasn't one of the men in my company."Preliat quipped back. Preliat was far more skilled in combat- by experience. [member="Silas Mantis"], however, seemed to have an edge- a lack of control. A lack of discipline. A hinderance, and a bonus.


"I was terrified beyond all measure, Silas. I was mortified at what I had to do, and I turned and tossed over it. I never take a life without weighing the consequences. You and I both know-"He leaned back on the wall, staring his brother. He knew the apathy, and he had to set his brother right. Silas wasn't going home. He wasn't going to go back on the farm and take care of the family. He wasn't going to go play a sport, be a politician, or grow crops. He was going to be like him. Stop the demons. But Preliat had become a monster while trying to push the monsters back."That we'll have to answer for every shot, stab, and every ounce of pain we've put on another living being."He leaned forward, folding his hands over the tomahawk."The whole 'glory through combat' idea and all that...that'll fade. It faded for me. I see reality. I personally believe people use the word glory to cover up horrific things they do to other people because they couldn't come to terms with the fact that they ruined someone else's life."His eyes drifted over to the wall, thinking for a moment, before turning back to Silas.


"Every life you take, you are affecting ten more. The shop keeper that they buy from every day. Their aunt and uncle who couldn't wait for them to visit on a holiday. There sisters and brothers who couldn't wait for that next email. Their father and mother who will be without a son or a daughter."He blinked, just for a moment. The pain was deep."But that doesn't mean that they aren't bad people and need to be put down for the lives that they ruined. Just know the value of your own life and life itself, and ask yourself if you're able to take that from someone and everyone they know."He blinked again, leaning his head forward. The dark circles on his eyes, from lack of sleep and general exhaustion, showed in the dim light.


"So yes- I did feel something. And I still do."

 

[Silas Mantis]

Silas felt himself become engulfed in guilt and regret. Remorse was all that he felt, not for what he'd done, but because of what his brother had said. [member="Preliat Mantis"], wolf of the Mado'ade, a savage warrior/killing machine like no other, one whom he'd heard story upon story about his vicious actions, felt something. Meanwhile he, the boy straight out of the house who'd dove headlong into the horrors of war, wasn't the slightest bit shaken by the pain he wrought. What was wrong with him?

"I...I-I didn't feel...anything." He stammered, horrified at his own detachment from what he was doing. He took life without a thought, without a doubt. Silas didn't take pleasure in the act to be sure, but he still knew all the things Preliat had said. He knew they had family, he knew he was taking a spouse from a spouse, a parent from a child, a child from its parents, and he just didn't care. What kind of monstrosity was he?

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"From now on, you will."He saw the guilt and the regret engulf his younger brother. He blinked, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He stared at him, feeling an all too familiar feeling building up in his chest. Remorse. He created [member="Silas Mantis"], he had let him admire what he had done without telling him the reality.


"Now do you see why I didn't want you to leave?"

 

[Silas Mantis]

"I would've come anyway."

Silas kept his head down as he slapped a charge pack into the rifle, trying to grasp what Preliat had said. The question that hung in his mind now was if he even wanted to feel something when he killed. Wouldn't that be a hindrance? He wasn't entirely sure, but [member="Preliat Mantis"] seemed to be able to handle it, so he'd make himself deal.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He smirked. So somewhere, in that apathetic, poorly cut-haired skinny womp of a man was his brother."I bet you would have."


He checked his watch, glancing out the window."I think it'd be smart to move in about thirty or so."


[member="Silas Mantis"]