Robinson Crusoe

[Brandon Rhea]

The gentle breeze of salty winds brushed across Nathanaeu’s face, enveloping him in a warm, soothing hug as his eyes fluttered open. He thought he must’ve been so tired when his eyes were blurry, barely seeing anything at first, but they soon opened. He laid on the ground, against an unusually un-soft pillow, and looked out the open doorway to the sandy shore beyond it. Waves crashed into the sands as the tide grew closer to the building. Everything was tranquil. He was at peace.

“What the hell?”

None of it was right. He tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain shot through his leg. He cried out, growling in agony, as he looked at his leg, only to see that it was covered in wraps. He could feel the slime of bacta beneath it. Something had happened.... and he wasn’t alone.

Trying to move his arms, he found that he couldn’t. He was chained down, a crude way of holding someone prisoner. But why? He didn’t even know where he was, let alone who was holding him. The last thing he remembered, he was on his personal shuttle, sitting in the passenger area as his crew flew him towards a diplomatic summit in the Outer Rim. How did he end up here?

“Hello?” he shouted. “Is anyone there?”

He tried to shift his body to a more comfortable position, but the pain shot through his leg again. “God damnit!”

 

[Sreeya]

"You sure are obnoxious."

The voice was female, though it was difficult to discern her thanks to heavy armor she wore. The woman was adorned in full beskar'gam, rifles and blasters decorating her body. A helmet hid her face from view, her HUD activated to take in every detail of both her surroundings and the prisoner.

"Copaani gaan?"

The woman glanced back when the voice called out. It was a man in the distance, another soldier.

"Nayc."

She turned her attention back to the prisoner, walking over to crouch down in front of him. He would be able to see his ragged reflection on the visor of her helmet. The woman said nothing for a moment, observing the man curiously. For a moment, nothing but the sound of the waves and sea gulls in the distance echoed behind them. It was serenity, peace that was a striking contrast to the otherwise desperate situation this man found himself in.

"Let's start by doing some introductions. You first."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Son of a bitch, he cursed to himself. Of all the people to capture him, it was the Mandalorians. On the brink of negotiations with the Mandalorians, one of them had to capture him. As he disappeared from the Alliance, so too would the prospects of ending a war between the two civilizations before it could truly begin. Yet, at least for now, it was possible he had the advantage. This Mandalorian woman was asking for his name. She had yet to find out who he was.

“The name’s Daveid,” he lied, taking the name of his father, but with the honest politician’s demeanour that got him elected in the first place. “What’s your name, verd?”

 

[Sreeya]

Her eyebrow rose beneath her helmet. It wasn't often that outsiders knew Mando'a words. Let alone snobby, pretentious politicians. As he gave her his name, she looked at him suspiciously. He hadn't given a last name, and she didn't bother asking. Capturing an Alliance politician could either work in her favor or further make things difficult with her people. She hadn't notified anyone outside of her small party about the capture.

"I think I'll hold off on my name for now.."

Her name carried too much weight. There had been a big fiasco with her fiancee being killed in action, and then her going missing. This man could very well have been notified of the case, and the name Kale would instantly give her away. As she observed him, she found him oddly familiar, though she couldn't place it. The Mandalorian rose back up to her full height, grasping his chains and yanking him up harshly. She had little care for the pain in his leg, not bothering to explain it.

"We're going to go on a trip, Daveid. Regretfully, you won't be seeing home any time soon, so take a good look back at what's left of your shuttle now."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Nathanaeu was about to play with fire, and he knew it, but for now he knew he still had an advantage. If she wanted him dead, he’d already be dead. One way or another she wanted something out of his captivity, which gave him some measure of leverage.

Gritting his teeth at the pain of being yanked, he dropped back down to the ground, leaning back up against the pillow. He grinned as he did so, and the taunt was clear. This was the moment he would begin to understand just which lines she would cross and which ones she wouldn't.

“I’m not going to play along with a terrorist,” he said, “so you’ll just have to make me, mir’osik.”

 

[Sreeya]

She had to laugh at his actions, keeping a firm hold of the chains despite him dropping back. With the aid of her armor, she could easily toss him around like a rag doll, but she knew it would accomplish little. The Mandalorian gazed at him for a moment, still curious at his knowledge of Mando'a, however basic.

"Terrorist? That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Members of her squad began to approach her, but she held up a hand to stop them. Despite her time with the Mandalorians, she hadn't adopted the shoot first, ask questions later mentality just yet. More than anything, his familiarity piqued her curiosity.

"Since you appear to be comfortable, I suppose we can ask a few more questions before I have to force you out. You can play nice and I won't have to start hurting you. Less work for me, less pain for you. Win/win."

She watched for his body language, observing every last detail.

"Where were you going?"

Her team had already extracted data from the salvaged navicomputer. She already knew the details of his route and journey. It was a matter of piecing together a puzzle, which she knew he wouldn't make easy. Her voice was devoid of emotion, making it difficult to discern what she knew and what she didn't.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

The most important thing for any politician to learn how to do was read people; their tone of voice, their body language, their mannerisms. Anything and everything. Along with that, an instinct was required, an ability to feel within your gut what someone was up to and after. Nathanaeu’s told him that this Mandalorian knew something about him already, or at the very least was going to. Most likely from his ship, if any of it survived. Not to matter, of course. Classified information was not readily acceptable on his personal shuttle. She would have to extract what she wanted directly from him, if she could not break through Alliance firewalls.

That gave him an opportunity to have a little fun. He grinned as he told her, “There’s a whore house on Christophsis. Got a girl there named Mistress Caramel. She’s...delicious, and I was hungry.”

 

[Sreeya]

The woman sighed, shaking her head. In truth, there was a smile beneath her helmet. He wouldn't make this easy. Yet for reasons unknown, she refrained from applying violence. The Mandalorian simply gazed at him, right into the deceptive eyes that gazed at her visor. She found no answers in his eyes, nor did his features betray anything. He couldn't see her face, and he was doing just as good of a job of reading her. Damn politicians.

"Alor."

She thought to ignore the call, but she could sense urgency in the voice. The Mandalorian promptly left the room, leaving the politician alone in his binds. She stepped outside to find a group of her soldiers crowding around her. She looked to one of them, not attempting to hide her confusion.

"Me'bana? I told you not to disturb me."

"Alor, we think we know who this is."

"How?"

"First, the others have been analyzing the other bodies on that transport. They're all high ranking security guards. Well beyond the budget of your run of the mill politician."

"That tells me little, vod."

Another man stepped forth, jutting up a small screen with a HoloNet feed. From what she could tell, it was a news coverage. The soldier addressed it at once.

"With the security raising suspicion, we decided to see if he's been in any recent media. This is covering the aftermath of Teth. It's recapping older news, but look at one of the speakers here."

She watched the screen for a while, as the camera panned to different speakers and faces. Just as she was about to point out that he was wasting her time, the camera focused on a particular face. The face looked incredibly familiar, and the name and title underneath it made her eyes widen.

"Me'ven?!"

"Yes.."

She snatched the screen into her hands, staring intently to ensure there was no misunderstanding. She knew then exactly who she had managed to snag, her heart rate beginning to increase rapidly. Kale handed the screen back and whipped out her comm., rapidly explaining to Carien the situation and who she had in her custody. Kale then turned to one of her men.

"This..this changes everything.."

She muttered to herself, regaining composure and walking back into the room where the man was imprisoned. He had been on watch the entire time, making escape attempts fruitless. Kale snapped her fingers, prompting two larger men to haul him up and put a black bag over his head. Her voice would call out over any commotion.

"Sorry Daveid, Mistress Caramel is going to have to wait. We really need to get going here."

 

[Brandon Rhea]

Struggling was the last thing he did and felt as the black bag was slipped over his head. He tried to break free of the restraints he was placed in, trying to wiggle and worm his way out of the situation, but it was useless. “But she doesn’t like to wait!” Bastele called out, keeping up the act.

That was when one of the Mandalorian guards struck him, fist and bone slamming into Bastele’s face, and everything went dark.