Private The Train Job

[Belok Karr]

"You know, I can stitch well enough if you want," Belok offered. He nodded at her arm.

"People can walk away from the creed," he admitted. "It is a very permanent thing. I know someone who did it."

Belok made it very clear through his tone that it was something he considered quite shameful. After just a moment, the big grin returned to his face.

"So, what wasn't for you?"

 

[Amani Serys]

“Mm-mm. I got it.” It was, after all, her line of work. But more importantly it gave her an excuse for distraction.

“Lotta things. A bit too old fashioned, I guess-- Ow! Dammit,” Amani sped past the topic, poking herself a little too harshly with the needle as she did. She quickly recomposed and rounded back to the question of Mandalorians, “What happened to them? Why’d they leave?”

Belok Karr​

 

[Belok Karr]

"I don't know why they left. It was my aunt. She just...turned her back on the people and left."

Belok put down his tools, tugged off his gloves and strode around the table. He dropped to one knee and took the needle from her.

"You talk, I'll stitch," he said in the tone that did not invite argument.

"What do you mean by old fashioned?" he asked, eyes on the task and hands steady.

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani's irritation lingered from her injury and into their interaction, "Sorry, did you become my dad when I wasn't looking?" Self-control largely seemed to win out in the following moments as she sighed in resignation, albeit with a slight roll of her eyes.

The needle was extended for him to take, and the mirialan physically deflated once he began. His question earned an incredulous laugh, "I assumed the Mandalorians of all people would have plenty of jokes about outdated Jedi tradition," Then again, the Mandos were a bit stuck in the same boat weren't they?

"I just became too focused on being the perfect Jedi, that I couldn't be... the right Jedi. Does that make sense?" Amani shook her head, "Whatever, it's a me problem more than anything, alright? The rest of it's pretty boring."

Belok Karr​

 

[Belok Karr]

Belok made a thoughtful hum at the back of his throat as he looked down at his handiwork. For a big man with great, meaty fists his stitching was particularly neat. His demeanour was quite at odds with his appearance as well.

"Everything is a me problem for someone," Belok said, tying off the stitching. "But yes, that makes sense."

He stood back up and returned to the chair opposite Amani. He was quick to take up the bottle of clear spirits.

"It makes sense. The creed is what I follow, but I don't suppose I've ever tried to be the perfect anything.

"Are you happier now?"

 

[Amani Serys]

The question actually got her to think. But in the end she simply shrugged, her lips flat, “I dunno. In some ways, sure. In others… not so much, I guess.” There was a give and take with everything. Blissful ignorance had its perks, but it was ignorance all the same. Disillusionment was clarifying, but not exactly blissful. “Not that it can be changed now, anyway.”

When it was done, Amani studied the stitching like this was an inspection, before apparently deeming Belok’s work sufficient, “What about you? I assume you’re living the Mandalorian dream?” She posited, reclining in her seat.

Belok Karr​

 

[Belok Karr]

One ginger eyebrow raised.

Belok looked out of the window at the endless desert.

"What do you think the mandalorian dream looks like?" he asked.

He was obviously trying not to smile.

 

[Amani Serys]

A mildly-annoyed smile crept at the corner of Amani’s lip, “I dunno, that’s why I asked,”

She followed his gaze outside the window, “I assumed it was ‘getting paid to fight people’.” A slight bout of sarcasm. But only slight. He was the most amiable Mandalorian she had met, and even his job was still working as hired muscle.

Belok Karr​

 

[Belok Karr]

"Hah! I think more accurate would be to retire - in one piece - with a collection of exceptional blasters and enough credits to own a farm."

Belok chuckled and turned his gaze back to the circuitry on the back of his chest plate. Her impatience hadn't been missed, but the jovial Mandalorian swept past it like a cool breeze.

"Maybe a good step would be finding work on a planet with milder climate. You staying on world long or passing through?"

 

[Amani Serys]

“Well, I’d argue ‘retiring in one piece’ is just about everyone’s dream. Give or take the blaster collection,” Amani smirked, then shrugged.

“Just here for the job. After that, I’m on to the next one. Wherever that is,” She began idly fiddling with the hilt of her saber, eyes glazed over as her focus shifted more to internal thoughts, “What about you?”

Belok Karr​

 

[Belok Karr]

"Same," Belok replied.

He seemed satisfied with the work he had done to his armour plate. A small terminal ran another diagnostic. Belok have a satisfied grunt and reattached it to the front of his suit.

"Hopefully no more snipers putting bolts into my kit before I can get off this rock and onto the next job," he mused.

"Should you need a dependable collection of blasters and someone who knows how to use it, here's my holonet details," Belok said, turning his terminal around to face Amani so that she could copy it, should she decide she might have need of a mercenary in future.

 

[Amani Serys]

“Yes, let’s hope. This job has already been more exciting than I was ready for.” She laughed a little. At the very least, they were able to put a stop to the gang’s raids, not just scare them off. Whatever was left wouldn't have the manpower to try something like this again any time soon.

“I try not to make a habit of hiring mercs, but maybe I can make an exception some time.” They were unfortunately an often-necessary part of her job. Someone needed to work security detail at all the refugee camps and outreach programs, especially in places like the Outer Rim. Besides, he seemed pretty easy to work with, as far as Mandos go.

“Aaalright…” Amani pulled out her personal datapad and copied the contact info he’d displayed for her. “Pleasure doing business with ya, Belok,” She smirked, and extended a hand.

Belok Karr​