The Wolf
The Cold Iron City.
Unaccounted for. That's what they were. The rest of the belligerents of the fight had moved on. The Death Watch routed them. Mia's Mandalorians went this way, the Death Watch another. But- in the Cold Iron City, on a lonely street, a snow-bank held two men. They both came in the same way, from the heavens above. Preliat was lying face down in a snow bank- Ordo was about a dozen meters or so on the same bank that he crashed in on. Preliat had rolled, he could tell that from the impacts in the snow bank.
He was wary. Contusions and bruises must've covered his body. He could breathe fine, however- no broken ribs. He reached up to his cracked helmet, peeling the hooded bucket off of his head. He stood up, feeling the caked blood fall off of his face. He must've looked like hell- the blood had pooled in his helmet and across his face.
He let the helmet drop to the snow with a soft thud. Now, that the two were alone- their factions beside them, it was now not an external conflict, it was between the Rancor and the Wolf. And the Wolf had decided how the fight was going to go before they landed in the snow.
"She took everything from me, Jasper. Everything I could ever want- she took it from me under the guise of atonement. How could you, Jasper? How could you do that to me? You stand on the same ash that she buried your people under, and you claim loyalty to her."
He reached up to his shoulder, and turned the magnetic locks of his jetpack off. The jetpack fell to the ground. Preliat took the beskad off his back, which lay parallel to his jetpack, as it had for years and years. He took it off his back and threw it at Jasper's body, letting it land in the snow near him. Preliat reached up to his arm, and pulled the tomahawk off of his arm.
And he waited for the Rancor to stir.
"I will take everything from you, like she took everything from me."
[member="Ordo"]