They called her the Storm’s Sun. She was a Rambler-class light freighter, not specifically built for pirates but then most ships weren’t, and that made her a bit of a bitch in sheep skin. She was no less loved. The crew loved her, namely the captain, and her name was Loris Val’kaanen.
The Captain, they called her simply, and what a captain she was. A Human of thirty years, give a year or two, she wouldn’t ever clarify, Captain Val’kaanen was a force to be reckoned with. She was a storm unto herself, her crew considered, and it was best to never get on her bad side lest they feel the wrath.
The wrath. One of those crewmates knew a thing or two about wrath. His name was Endyr Ratheon, and his motto was his own family’s. Ours Is The Wrath.
He had forgotten it, reminded himself of it, day after night, and the cycle repeated. Before the Storm's Sun and her pirate crew, he had been with the Brave Banners, a mercenary crew, and Mandalorians among them. Gone now. He reminded himself of that too. Just like me. Gone from my family.
That day, that night, time unknown upon drifting through space and that crewmate not giving ten druks to count the clock, Endyr Ratheon walked the corridors to keep on the move while keeping to himself. The former was easy, the latter not so much, given that there were almost twenty crewmembers around to interrupt him.
“Go for a drink?” Offered a Shistavanen upon crossing paths with the Mandalorian. That Mandalorian, garbed in black gold beskar’gam, tilted his head behind his visor. “Go jerk off in the galley, you worthless wolf.”
There was a staredown that no two eyes could beat, black T-shaped visor and all, and the crew of the Storm’s Sun had since learned of the combat prowess of the son of Ratheon, so whatever.
The Shistavanen moved on, as did the Mandalorian, making his way for the Captain’s quarters. He had no appointment with Loris but that didn’t matter. The crew had been in for the long haul, the ship roaming the stars for weeks, and this was one Mandalorian who wanted to know when the kriff it was time to touch worldside, and he wanted to know now.
-Knock-knock-
“The kark is it?” Loris was expecting no visitors, as expected.
“Your favorite Mandalorian.” Endyr answered.
“The one and only Mandalorian, you mean. Make it quick. I’m busy.”
The door was unlocked remotely and Endyr stepped in, standing before his sitting captain with a desk between the two. And not much else. One step, one move, and say good day and good night, Captain Val’kaanen.
“So,” Loris poured whiskey into a lonely glass. “The kark do you want?”
The Captain, they called her simply, and what a captain she was. A Human of thirty years, give a year or two, she wouldn’t ever clarify, Captain Val’kaanen was a force to be reckoned with. She was a storm unto herself, her crew considered, and it was best to never get on her bad side lest they feel the wrath.
The wrath. One of those crewmates knew a thing or two about wrath. His name was Endyr Ratheon, and his motto was his own family’s. Ours Is The Wrath.
He had forgotten it, reminded himself of it, day after night, and the cycle repeated. Before the Storm's Sun and her pirate crew, he had been with the Brave Banners, a mercenary crew, and Mandalorians among them. Gone now. He reminded himself of that too. Just like me. Gone from my family.
That day, that night, time unknown upon drifting through space and that crewmate not giving ten druks to count the clock, Endyr Ratheon walked the corridors to keep on the move while keeping to himself. The former was easy, the latter not so much, given that there were almost twenty crewmembers around to interrupt him.
“Go for a drink?” Offered a Shistavanen upon crossing paths with the Mandalorian. That Mandalorian, garbed in black gold beskar’gam, tilted his head behind his visor. “Go jerk off in the galley, you worthless wolf.”
There was a staredown that no two eyes could beat, black T-shaped visor and all, and the crew of the Storm’s Sun had since learned of the combat prowess of the son of Ratheon, so whatever.
The Shistavanen moved on, as did the Mandalorian, making his way for the Captain’s quarters. He had no appointment with Loris but that didn’t matter. The crew had been in for the long haul, the ship roaming the stars for weeks, and this was one Mandalorian who wanted to know when the kriff it was time to touch worldside, and he wanted to know now.
-Knock-knock-
“The kark is it?” Loris was expecting no visitors, as expected.
“Your favorite Mandalorian.” Endyr answered.
“The one and only Mandalorian, you mean. Make it quick. I’m busy.”
The door was unlocked remotely and Endyr stepped in, standing before his sitting captain with a desk between the two. And not much else. One step, one move, and say good day and good night, Captain Val’kaanen.
“So,” Loris poured whiskey into a lonely glass. “The kark do you want?”
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