Ask [Tol Amn] Despite Everything

[Kotii Solus]

Spoiler: Music

The pieces of Kotii's armor he had removed still sat in the room but they were not pure beskar. The holes that Song had managed to land on him in their earlier fight had compromised their integrity. But the plates were not completely useless. Instead, he picked them up and tossed them ontop of the hoversled in the room before moving closer to the door. He did not take the time to fully return them to his outfit since it sounded like the undead were going to breach the room at any moment. His left thigh and right shoulder remained unarmored, but Kotii had no intention of letting any part of his body get within grabbing distance of the infected.

The badger raised his blaster towards the door as one limb after another broke through, revealing those they belonged to on the other side. Kotii's red eyes looked towards Song who still looked like she needed a few days of rest, but was determined to fight. Neither of them had much of a choice.

His mind thought back to when he rescued Doctor Morata on her ship that had become overrun with the undead. It was that event that had earned him the cybernetic hand he had been forced to replace his organic one. The woman had chopped it off to prevent him from becoming one of those things. The memory brought anger and aggression back to the forefront of his mind.

Focusing his attention on the dwindling integrity of the wooden door, he maneuvered the hoversled in front of it while putting himself on the far side. Placing a still muddy, boot on one end of the hoversled, he kicked it with full force into the door just as it was breached. It served as a ram, catching the half dozen zombies at stomach height and slowing their entrance. Decrepit hands scrambled to find purchase and pull them into the room. They would end up receiving precision shots from the heavy blaster pistol, dropping each of them and adding to the pile up of corpses in the doorway. The loud discharge of the heavy blaster pistol resounded in the tight corners, lighting it up with bright yellow flashes with each pull of the trigger. It would eventually bring more of the undead but they needed to clear out enough of them before they got close to the two Mandalorians. Not only did the gunslinger know to be careful to not hit Song, he had limited ammunition and needed to place his shots or risk wasting them. Each shot would sink into a decaying face or skull of an AMS zombie.

By the time his weapon was half empty, he pushed the hoversled further out into the hallway, over the bodies of the slain and into the room on the far side of the hallway while grunting in effort. But there were more coming from down the hall that had come up the stairwell. Kotii turned his helmet to look in the opposite direction and saw a non-reinforced window where the hallway met the exterior wall. <"I have a plan."> He answered the Wren and defaulting to Mando'a in the process before firing a shot into the glass. This caused it to blow a hole the size of a grav ball and the rest to crack in a spider-web pattern.

<"Come on! Get to the window!"> He turned and ran away from the incoming infected, grabbing the Wren's free hand and pulling her along. He needed her to be within arms reach for this to work. The left hand quickly holstered the sidearm after firing the last shot and in the same motion pulled out the grapple pistol from his belt. Turning only slightly and half aiming, he fired the device, sending the anchor towards the hoversled that peaked out into the hallway. <"Hold tight...and...JUMP!"> He said and grabbed ahold of his female counterpart around the waist even if she did not obey before leaping through the compromised window.

His jetpack ignited and the glass shattered into a million pieces. A shower of glass burst out of the building as they cleared the structure by a few meters. Kotii's helmet looked down and saw the ground below was not far away but it his equilibrium and the strain on his jetpack told him they were not going to be flying anywhere with their combined weight. The Solus's grip on the grapple launcher tightened, and the line went taught. The hoversled's oblong shape turned, or tried to, but lodged itself in the doorway causing them to almost immediatly begin swinging downwards and back towards the side of the bulding like a pendulum. Kotii gritted his teeth and groaned as he felt every ache in his body flare. The ex Solus'alor rolled to keep Song from slamming into the glass that was on the first floor hallway, half hoping they did not end up back inside the building. His body slammed into the glass pane, just mere feet from the ground. The first floor window cracked but did not shatter.

There did not seem to be any infected in the immediate vicinity so they had bought some time. But most of their supplies were still on the second floor with the hoversled. He would worry about that later. They could come back tomorrow after the undead had calmed down or been led away. Detatching the grapple line, it would begin snaking its way back into the coil of the launcher. Now that they were out of immediate danger, they needed to keep it that way. <"Alright Wren...where to now?"> His voice indicated he wished the stunt had gone smoother, but was at least relieved to be out of immediate harms way.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

Song chopped hands and extended limbs coming through the door. Black bile sprayed into the room. She took great care not letting it stain her armor, although it didn’t matter when every plate was already caked in mud or her own dried blood. If she escaped this alive and returned to Krownest, she’d likely have to fetch a whole new armor set than spend piles of credits and time repairing the scrap she wore now. It seemed routine at this point. She lost jetpacks, blasters and throwing knives all the time, and the rest of Clan Wren were probably used to it by now.

She wasn’t excited to see the irritated looks they’d give upon her return, but better that than death by Infected.

Following closely behind Kotii, she watched as he broke a hole into the window of a separate room. Wind lashed through and Song cast a wary glance over her shoulder. They’d staved off the Infected who’d initially attacked them, but more were coming. She prayed to all the gods this “plan” the Solus had in mind wasn’t complete shit, which she doubted heavily.

“If you expect me to break my ankle jumping out this window, you are sorely mistaken,” she challenged him, gazing to the street below from the ledge. If only he hadn’t destroyed her jetpack.

She let out a slight gasp of surprise when Kotii suddenly took her hand. Wheeling her into his arm, she blinked, not entirely sure what was happening until they were both lunging through the window, shattering the remnants of glass. Shards rained down to the pavement, where she half-expected to make its acquaintance with her face, only to find herself flying instead. Except they weren’t flying. With a hiss and snap of rope, she felt the two of them swing back towards the building. Luckily, she touched the ground instead of another window, courtesy of the Solus.

Song couldn’t help but look down at his hand around her waist. A strange heat crept up her neck, although she said nothing. Not until he motioned down the street and asked a question she found mind-numbingly stupid.

“Where to now?” she repeated. “How in Mandalore would I know where to go? You’re the one who dragged me into the middle of this undead-infested settlement bleeding and unconscious. You’re supposed to be the expert here.” She jabbed a finger at him. One glance over his shoulder though, and she spotted several Infected spilling out from the two-story building, shambling towards her as if they were a pack of blind dogs and she was a fat slab of pork in a butcher shop. They just didn't know when to stop.

“Oh, fuck this,” she said before seizing Kotii's wrist and sprinting down the street. She didn’t have time to flip a goddamn coin.

She moved past tattered buildings, cars carpeted in moss, and stoplights draped in vines and ivy. Grass hatched out of almost every crack in the street and Song struggled not to trip and tumble into the nearest ditch. “There!” she shouted, pointing to what looked like the crumbling ruins of a spaceport. That had to be their ticket out of here. And if it wasn't, well, then shit.

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii stopped scanning for more zombies as he reacted to Son's words. His blank helmet conveyed some emotion thanks to his posture as he turned back from looking for more threats. His eyes looked up as he thought about it for a moment, knowing she was right. But he still wanted to reply with an explanation despite their situation. He thought she was capable of making a fast judgement and maybe with any luck, had spotted a good point for them to fall back to.

"I was just-" But he was cut short of making an excuse as the growls and gurgling sounds of undead came from around the corner. They did not have time to squabble. Song took the initiative, for better or worse, and began leading him away from the animated dead mob.

As they moved quickly through the ruins of the city, the two Mandalorians tried to make as little noise as possible and put distance between them and their previous location. There were plenty of places to take cover, to hide. But none off them were ideal for an impending horde of AMS infected. That was, until they began to see the faded signs for a spaceport ahead.

The Wren pointed it out and there were a few undead milling about outside. But it was nothing compared to the scores that they had left behind. The echani offshoot finally holstered his grapple launcher and pulled one of his vibro blades. They needed to be quiet and more blaster fire would just draw more. With a throw, a blade sank into the back of a zombie before its form crumpled to the ground. The badger had more than one blade on him and quickly replaced it.

Without too much fuss, the two Mandalorians got into the spaceport and out of the open space outside. Empty halls once meant for masses of people traveling between systems was no absent of activity. The booted footsteps of the two warriors would have almost echoed if they were not making an effort to be quiet.

Kotii found himself panting slightly from the excitement topped only by his tiredness. The Solus's shoulders rose and fell slightly and he looked over at his Wren counterpart, then down at their clasped hands before back up at her helmet. The two had not let go of one another through the trip and only now he was realizing they had remained clasped. <"Can I...have my hand back, please?"> He said softly, not wanting his voice to carry. The tips of his ears felt slightly warm for some reason.

Knowing she would probably let go of his appendage, Kotii still appreciated her taking the lead. The Mandalorian took a few moments to catch his breath and looked around. His ears tried to hone in on any sound of shuffling bodies. But none were forthcoming in the immediate area. He looked back towards the Wren and finally managed to ask her a question that had been on his mind. <"You know...I don't actually know your name. Sorry for not asking it sooner."> He apologized but wondered if she would even offer it. The hints of an embarrassed smile crept towards the corners of his mouth but were hidden by his helmet for the time being. Kotii's eyes looked to either side, trying to find a map of the building they could use to navigate the spaceport. They were typically posted with fire exits and would help them find where ships might be parked or even supplies they could use in the meantime.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

“No, you can’t have…” Song said instinctively, before realizing what he’d asked for and glanced down to their two intertwined hands. She pulled hers away. “Oh. Sorry.” She felt her face flush, less embarrassed and more irritated by the fact she’d grabbed him in the first place. She should have chopped his hand off, not taken it. They were enemies—he was dar’manda and she was a sworn follower to the same man who’d branded him so, and the moment she’d been released from her cuffs, Song should have lunged at him with her sword and reclaimed her honor with his blood.

But she hadn’t. To escape this blasted rock, she was going to need him. Even then, after everything, a tiny shard lodged in her heart didn’t want to thrust a knife into his. Her father, Ghent, always had said she was soft. Maybe he was right.

Just not in the departments that mattered, like surviving.

The two of them had managed to get this far. Inside the ruined spaceport, besides the occasional moan of an Infected hiding in the dark, they were alone. Wind whispered from the broken skylights above and dim sunlight cast splotches of red and gold onto the floor. An immense tree sprouted in the main lobby, bright and fresh with leaves, clearly thriving in the aftermath of so much death and decay. It was ironic. Beautiful, too. Never had she thought herself admiring such a place, let alone beside the most wanted and hated man in Mandalorian space.

She released a sigh. “My name is Song, daughter of Ghent. Clan Wren, if it wasn’t already obvious.” She smoothed a hand over the yellow trim of her armor. “And don’t apologize. Had you asked sooner, I’d have told you another name. Or spat in your face. Maybe both.” She tapped her chin, as if even now, she was considering the idea. But in the next moment, she looked back at him, and while her helmet masked her face, it was obvious she was smiling. “Now that we are on a first name basis, I suppose it would be very impolite if I tried to kill you again. You’re lucky.”

Song stepped over a heap of shattered glass. One noise too loud, and she’d probably attract a swarm. It was a good thing it didn’t take her very long to find a navigation map, around her height and blanketed in dust. She wiped a gloved hand over the screen and, to her surprise, it lit up in response. A map of the spaceport came into view and she quickly examined it, scanning the maze of halls and hangars for what seemed like the best place to store an untouched, possibly functioning ship. She didn’t stop until her finger landed on a red spot in the map’s center.

“There,” she breathed. “Says here the hangar’s still in use.”

Song didn’t bother sticking around. “Come on,” she told Kotii, careful not to take his hand again, and made a beeline for a separate hall. “Maybe we can find something there.” She tried not to think about what would happen if or when they did. Like who would drive, or where they’d go. She had to return to Krownest or Mandalore, worlds the dar’manda was not exactly welcome to—and he had to head back to whatever new hiding place his friends were at, a place she doubted he’d welcome her in, either.

So, she didn’t think about it. All Song thought about was right now, walking alongside Kotii in a dark and abandoned spaceport, united in the singular goal of escaping.

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

At first Kotii briefly cocked an eyebrow at hearing Song's half finished protest. But she let go of it just as soon as she released her grip on his hand. He was a little surprised by the apology that followed. <"It's fine."> He answered before clearing his throat slightly. The situation was a little awkward and Kotii still held the expectation she wanted to kill him or at the very least, turn him into the Mand'alor.

When Song introduced herself officially it lacked the venomous tone she had used to try and call him out of hiding during their fight, or the accusatory words and sass that they had exchanged in their former refuge. Kotii liked the amicable discussion and would go so far as to acknowledge it even as pleasant. A short chuckle escaped his throat as she admitted to possibly answering differently with spit. He would not have blamed her for doing so. <"I'm Kotii, son of...Din and Parja. Clan Solus.>" He had paused, not used to introducing himself in this way but feeling like it was appropriate. Kotii had not said the names of his parents out loud for years. But he also did not want to say house solus, and make Song feel like he was trying to brag about his clan's status. He was just trying to be polite and possibly start off new. Song even added it with a joke, though he thought it was a joke.

<"I mean..."> He started to say and then trailed off as she moved away. The words he thought up would probably just land him in more trouble with the Wren. He was not afraid of fighting her again and would not even hold it against her if she tried. He took her for doing things more directly and not one to be underhanded in tactics. But the fact remained they would improve their odds of survival by working together. Everything the ex Solus'alor had said before was truly how he had felt. I don't know about overall...but I suppose I am lucky that you're polite. Of course you could just be trying to make me feel a false sense of security before slitting my throat in my sleep Kotii kept that to himself. He wanted to believe he was growing on Song, that she was open to seeing things his way or at least differently than she had before. <"...I'd appreciate that.">

Finding a map without too much trouble, Kotii would look over Song's shoulder to glance at the find. Occasionally he turned to keep an eye out for any undead but the moans were distant and none had followed them to the space port. His focus returned fully to the next steps to get the two of them off Tol Amn. The hangar that his cohort pointed towards would not take too long to get to but there definitely could be more zombies along the way.

Like she had before, Song did not give Kotii much time to start up a new conversation for a plan of approach. She was confident in how to get there and quickly set off. His mouth opened momentarily but then quickly shut, seeing as her mind was made up. The badger was trusting her to know the way and also in his 'luck' to not get them into deeper osik. A continued existence of survival made him want to think of the worst case scenario, of what would happen if she betrayed him. But she had shown her face to him and had presented what he took to be her true self unashamed. That in of itself allowed him to trust her despite her previous attempts to kill him and the threat she still might make another attempt on his life. He held on to that hope.

The pair passed by the halls that would take them otherwise to different sections of the star port. In the distance beyond the broken window panes were the parked forms of damaged ships. A CT-1000 star liner had a hole the size of a basalisk war droid blown in it and signs of a fire that had long ago died out. A completely overturned conductor class starlaunch was on cracked pavement. One portion of the starport had seemingly been crashed into through the ceiling by a ST-70 assault ship which had both of its engines torn from its frame upon impact. None of the ships looked serviceable but Kotii would keep them in mind in case they needed to return for scavenging parts. Signs of overgrowth made the other parts of the space port seem almost harmonious with the absence of people. It felt odd to be walking through this place that had only seen the occasionally shambling undead through the years since its abandonment.

The more they walked, the more Kotii found his thoughts returning to his family. He looked beyond his visor towards Song and thought about her's. She had spoken about being on Krownest only a few months ago. She had seen her family recently though he could not guage what kind of relationship she had with them. <"Was the other night the first time you experienced a rain storm?"> He asked in a hushed voice, not wanting the words to attract any attention or make it difficult to hear any AMS infected. On Krownest the planet was covered in an almost constant winter. His own first memory of seeing and feeling rain was a good one. But he wanted to get to know Song more before the inevitable occurred where they would have to part ways, or things turned sour. Maybe he could keep that from happening altogether.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

“Of all the questions you could have asked, that’s what you decide on?” she told him, shaking her head in disbelief, barely unable to contain her laughter. “Of course I’ve experienced rain before. It’s not like I was shackled to Krownest all my life. I was a bounty hunter, and I’d wager I’ve visited just as many backwater worlds as you.” And she had. Song had visited every corner of the galaxy, from the Core to the Unknown Regions, hunting and fighting and searching for her brother’s killer. How couldn’t she have endured rain at least once in her life?

Song kicked a stray stone down the hall. A long, awkward moment of silence passed before she admitted, “Well, if we’re talking about a real rain storm—the first time was only a month ago.” She hesitated, both out of embarrassment and an understanding that the answer might not please him. “It was when Nox replaced Fenyang as the Mand’alor. It was when I swore my loyalty, and this blade—” She balanced the Sword of Wren against her palm, “—to him and to everything he represented.”

Song wasn’t lost to the irony. The first time she’d experienced rain was with Nox, her oldest friend and Kotii’s greatest enemy. The second time had been with the exile himself, fighting in a sea of burning trees just weeks later. She might have laughed at the parallelism, but she didn’t. She only shrugged and kept walking.

The irony was much worse when she remembered that even now, she was working alongside the dar’manda, split between wanting to kill him or watch him go free. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Sure, he had mercifully spared her life and spoken to her unlike she was his prisoner, but that shouldn’t have changed the glaring fact that Kotii was the very reason Mandalore was still divided. Still weak. Then again, maybe it was her that was weak.

Song brushed those thoughts aside, remembering what he’d told her back in the cramped room they’d taken sanctuary in. “Earlier, you said you had a son. Hauron,” she said and paused. “When was the last time you’ve seen him?”

It was a silly question. Stranger than his, perhaps, but she was equally curious. When he’d first confessed to her about having a kid, she didn’t believe him. She thought it was some ploy to earn her trust and sympathy. Now, understanding he’d been nothing but honest with her since they’d met, she knew it had been no lie.

Whatever his answer, she could feel them nearing the hangar. It wasn’t long before she shambled into a vast chamber, daylight spilling through the open ceiling, casting the small, two-pilot interceptor in golden light. Song let out a relieved breath. Although covered in moss and rust, it didn’t look torn apart like the other ships.

It almost looked like it might work.

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii was not sure what the deal was and gave Song a sideways look that said he was not as amused by his question as she was. Maybe he could have asked a better question but the way she had fought previously and the fact that they were both from Krownest had made him curious. Plus, he was just trying to make conversation to get to know her better. There were plenty of things he had yet to do and places he still wanted to visit for the first time. The man brushed it off without further contemplation as the Wren answered. It became clear she had high expectations for him, as an enemy and as an individual. Kotii doubted he measured up to all of them.

When Song continued, Kotii could not help but glance at the weapon in her hand. She had made a pledge and was loyal to whom she served. He could respect that. But how she spoke was not totally missed by the Mandalorian. “Represented?” He repeated the phrase back as a query, trying to keep it from turning into a growl. She had used the past tense. Was she having doubts about what Nox currently represented? Unlikely, but the Echani-offshoot could not help but give voice to the question as they walked through the abandoned starport.

Blind loyalty was what had led to their people being tools for others. Rather than let himself become infuriated by thinking about how Nox, members of clan Kryze and others had turned on Adenn Rytt or any of the other travesties the ‘loyalists’ had committed since, he tried to focus back on the present. Adenn had been foolish but he had not deserved what had happened to him. The integrity that Kotii had believed their people shared, died that day.

Now the ex Solus’alor walked beside a fellow Mandalorian who had come to assassinate him. The man had tried to hold back from killing her before and did not want to see her dead. Her injuries had been treated by him and even with the reservations she felt towards him and those that continued to fight for what was right and justified, he thought of her as a peer. She was someone who needed his help. There was something else inside her that Kotii desperately wanted to reach and appeal to. But whether he managed that before she tried to make another attempt on his life or they parted ways was yet to be seen.

For a few long moments they walked in silence. The Solus kept his blade at the ready should an undead target present themselves. Empty shelves under overpriced signs in the starport were showing signs of twisting plants or fallen debris. Occasionally the skeletal remains of a dead civilian lay discarded and forgotten in dark corners. Beams of sunlight showed through skylights and windows making it an oddly beautiful, if not macabre, dystopian view.

The voice of Kotii’s companion came up again and he looked over towards her before raising his head to think of his son. Underneath his helmet he smiled at the last time he saw the boy. “A few weeks ago…maybe more.” It felt like it had been ages but at the same time only yesterday the blue stripped face and wide grin of the youth looked up at him. They had worked on training their Rancors together on Pzob and gone through drills with other foundlings. Now that was what fueled him to make it off this planet, to fight every day for a better tomorrow.

Kotii was happy to talk about his son. The man was proud of him to say the least. His voice softened as he recalled the details of Hauron and the memories they had made. <"He was so scared when I found him. He had lost his family and even if he didn’t admit it, he was worried about returning to the place he had been taken to."> Pzob was where the smugglers had kidnapped Hauron after killing his parents. It was no easy task for the young Mikkian to overcome his fear which made it all the more commendable.

“I think...” He paused as they began to get close to the hangar. <"...I think being a parent has taught me a lot more than I first realized. When I was younger I thought it was weakness to open yourself up to someone and give them a chance to wound you. But Hauron, he can’t wait to make more friends. For me it was...scary. I thought ‘what if I hurt them? What if they hurt me?’ It’s easy to still fall back on that line of thinking but he reminds me."> He shook his head and gave a slight chuckle at the retrospection. <"My son helped me understand that making yourself vulnerable in that way isn’t weak. It’s brave. Hauron even tried to fight me at first when I tried rescuing him. Can you believe that? I knew from the moment I saw him, he had what it took to be a badger. I couldn’t be prouder.”>

Coming into view of the parked ship his mind lingered on Hauron a moment longer. Kotii looked over the two seated interceptor and then over towards Song as if her blank T visor would give any sign of what she was thinking. His eyes looked her up and down and he recalled what she had accused him of earlier. <“Tell me about your brother. What was he like?"> He knew that was someone she had loved. But there was no telling if there was anyone currently in her life she cared for in the same way. Even her words about Nox as Mand’alor seemed more like an obligation or sense of duty rather than any feeling of love. But Kotii did not want to ask how he had died. Song could tell him that if she felt like it. That seemed dispassionate for him to ask directly and the Solus was not trying to shirk any responsibility.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

Song hesitated when Kotii threw her own words back at her like a question. Represented. She’d unconsciously used the past tense. Why? Was it because she no longer believed in the Mand’alor’s cause, or his actions, or his allies? It was true she’d never been a fan of the Sith. Aligning Mandalorian interests with the Empire had been a mistake, as well as an insult to their ancestral history, but what could she do about it? Nox likely felt the same, but they were desperate. Years of hardship had forced them to take routes that were once unthinkable in order to survive.

To succeed. Which he’d done, no matter the cost.

“I trust the Mand’alor to do what is right for our people,” Song said, then shrugged. “But I have my reservations. I never liked Fenyang, for one. I wasn’t there for Lothal or one of his other, short-lived invasions. If it came down to it, I might’ve even challenged him to lead. But Nox? He’s different. He’s my friend. We might not always see eye to eye, but he has good intentions and he’s willing to listen. To change. Maybe he will, as long as the right people are there to show him how.”

She was being sentimental. Idealistic, too. But she didn’t care. She’d seen the best and worst in people, and even at his worst, Nox had been good. Of course, there would always be things she and him disagreed on. Like the Sith, and now, perhaps even the Black Hand himself. Song couldn’t deny how much she’d warmed up to the other badger. He showed compassion, sympathy and heart—qualities she rarely saw when it came to most Mandalorians. For them it was all about fighting, drinking, and blowing shit up. Which were all perfectly reasonable—long as it didn’t require murdering defenseless civilians to do it.

Song bit her lip. She’d never abandon Mandalore for just those reasons alone, but it would be enough for her to change her mind about Kotii Solus.

Hearing him talk about Hauron didn’t help, either. A pang of sympathy racked her chest. She might not have understood what it was like to raise a child, but briefly, she could through Kotii’s words. He had a family. She knew what it was like to love and open up to someone: to Rand, to Val, to Kanan. Once, she had thought herself weak trying to, but it had only made her stronger. More Song, and less Wren. A soft smile touched her lips. She had to respect the Solus for that.

With how much Kotii had divulged about Hauron, she also felt it was only fair she did the same when he asked about her brother.

“His name was River, and he was… complicated.” She folded her arms over her chest protectively. “He was good to me when I was little and I loved him for it, even after he left us with dreams of becoming a bounty hunter.” She paused. “So, when I found out he’d been killed, I was furious. I wanted revenge. I left Krownest and became a bounty hunter, too.” She cleared her throat. “That was when I found out he wasn’t the perfect brother I thought he was. He had joined the Syndicates like the rest of our people, trying to scrounge up a living. The crime life had changed him. He did things that would make even my stomach turn.”

“Eventually, it caught up to him.” She closed her eyes, thinking about the Sector Ranger who was responsible for her brother's death: Amita Ghafa. The woman had a family, and she had fought and killed River in self-defense protecting her child. The revelation had destroyed Song. “When I learned the truth, I gave up on revenge. I stopped bounty hunting. Instead, I decided to return home and serve my clan, to rebuild Mandalore, so no one else would suffer the same fate my brother did.”

She approached the interceptor in the hangar’s center, then smoothed a hand over its side. Her gloved palm came away with dust. “So, there’s my story,” Song said. “Satisfied?” She tapped the ship’s hull. “Now, help me get up onto the cockpit. I don’t see a ladder anywhere and if anyone’s going to be a makeshift step stool, it’s you.”

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii listened to Song expand on her answer about her past oath and current beliefs. Hearing her have hope for Nox was something he shared with her. But that did not change the fact he had shot a brother in the back and nearly killed him. The badger feared for Nox's soul and it resonated with how Song phrased it. Just like how people declared Kotii was Dar'manda, a man without a soul, he could see the Mand'alor following a darker path and sacrificing even more until the cost was too great.

That was where he and Nox were different. They both knew what was right, but only Kotii committed to doing what he believed. He did not make compromises and he would not make cohorts of his sworn enemies especially if it meant kneeling to them in submission. Things were not always so simple. Kotii's problem was his awareness of his own limitations. If he had felt he could defeat Darth Raze on Mandalore, he would have faced him. Then he and Adenn would have had a similar fate but at least it would not have been at the hands of his former comrades.

Fleeing Mandalorian space was far from his proudest moment. But he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving those who were not able to fight. To keep those alive that wanted to thwart the Sith rather than live under their boot. Kotii was too stubborn, perhaps too idealistic to accept the agents of the dark side as his superiors. Because that was what Fenyang did and what Nox continued to accept by not disavowing them. He made all his followers complicit in any of his mistakes. The same could be said for Kotii. The burden of leadership was not for everyone and only those who are willing to stoop to pick up the power that came with it were worthy of it.

There were more feelings that swirled around inside Kotii's head after hearing Song's answer. But he did not argue, nor did he agree with her. He silently hoped that his brother, Nox, would not damn himself before it was too late. And perhaps even more importantly, not take too many of his brothers and sisters with them. A slow blink was hidden behind the Mandalorian's helmet as he gave a silent prayer to the gods of Mandalore even if they forsook him. He was thankful for hearing the type of answer Song had given him. Even if Nox did not know it, he was lucky to have her. I hope you continue to deserve her respect brother or gods help me I'll make you regret it.

The thoughts on the loyalists were pushed back as the Solus turned his mind towards his son. The story of Hauron and the details he shared had washed away the resentment and negativity like a flood of calm. Such was how happy he was to think about the boy and everything he could become as he grew up.

When Song shared her stories about her brother, River, he could start to see why she walked the path she had chosen. The Wren had ideals about the people she followed and those that helped her and she probably had beliefs about people not being perfect. She needed to think that way after she had been hurt by the loss of her brother and the way it had come about by the sound of it. River did not have the luxury of decent opportunities and life could be cruel that way. Her brother had sacrificed his integrity to make a living and it had lead to a bloody end. All Kotii could see now was Song ending up in a similar situation at the beck and call of the Sith or an unworthy leader.

Kotii stood in his spot and watched her walk up to the interceptor. His head tilted slightly to the side as he wondered how he could keep her from ending up used and abused. The ex Solus'alor had to think about the future and what changes would be made and what would stay long after he passed. Now what she said before made more sense. When she finished her lamentation, Kotii responded by taking a deep breath and exhaled through his nose in a slight mournful sigh. Taking a few steps he would walk towards the ship and come alongside it, holstering the grapple launcher and his knife. Turning around he bent his knees and put his hands together to make a step up between them for Song to get a leg up onto the wings. <"None of us are perfect. But we must accept the choices we've made and try to make the best of what we have. I don't want to hurt any that put their trust in me and that includes you. It sounds like River was maybe not the best man. But he was a good brother."> Once she was up on the ship he would wait until she possibly gave him a hand or would think about using his jetpack to give a momentary burst up.

<"Despite you trying to kill me before, you seem like you deserve better than what you have. I'd like to help you achieve your dream, Song. But that might mean you need to do me a favor."> He knew it was asking a lot for her to accept something like that. But Song sounded like she was made of the right stuff. She deserved better than the hand she was dealt and Kotii wanted to bring all Mandalorians to a new status in the galaxy that was not a pillaging war machine nor a supplicant mercenary force. They were people with a hardy resolve and a tenacity to defend themselves and their families. Maybe they would return to isolationists, or there would be pacifist sects like there used to be. He could not see the future. But he knew that the Mandalorians had been scattered to the four winds and they were doomed if he did not do something about it. He had to try.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

“Thank you,” was all she had to say after Kotii’s response to her story. They were kind words. More than River deserved, some might’ve thought, but for Song, they meant everything. Strangely enough, she felt a wetness in her eyes, and she chalked it up to some minor, allergic reaction. There was just a lot of dust in the air—that had to be the reason, right?

A warm smile tugged the corner of her mouth. At the badger's proffered hands, she climbed against the side of the interceptor. The ship was taller than she’d expected but with a little leverage and a very tall himbo to rely on, she was on top of the hull in moments. She examined the inside of the cockpit, pleasantly surprised to find it empty. Whoever had owned the ship, they had likely failed to reach it when the outbreak began, leaving it to rot. It seemed luck was finally on her side again.

Still, she felt her smile disappear at Kotii’s next question—if she could call it a question. It felt more like an invitation.

“A favor?” she repeated. One eyebrow arched, she shot him a suspicious look. “Listen, ex-alor, I like you. You’ve earned my respect. And also, after a lot of internal deliberating, I’ve decided you’re better for this galaxy alive than dead. Shouldn’t that be favor enough?” She clasped a lever on the side of the cockpit. With a tug, the windshield only croaked open an inch, so she dug her fingers underneath and wrenched it open, kicking up a haze of dust and soot. “Please, don’t go on and try to sell me your cause. Don’t make me change my mind about you, because you won’t change mine, even if you are right.”

She batted a hand at the cloud of dust and leapt inside the ship. The front seat, of course. She was a miserable pilot, but it was going to take a miracle to get the interceptor going and she felt she had the most luck to spare right now. Once she settled in the peeling, leather seat, however, she felt the tug of her conscience. A guilty conscience. She was afraid of what Kotii was going to ask her, but she knew he deserved better than willful ignorance. She couldn’t ignore him forever, especially if they intended to ride in a cramped ship together for the next few hours.

Song released a bitter sigh. “Fine,” she said. “What is it?”

Whatever favor he would ask, she’d listen. She made no promises to keep to them, but seeing as he’d been generous enough to spare her life, she supposed she could be a little charitable.

As he spoke, Song ran a hand over the dashboard and wiped it of more debris. She was grateful there weren’t a nest of spiders just waiting to break open into her lap, nor very many cobwebs around, because it didn’t take her long to find the activation switch. She flicked it once. Nothing. She flicked it again. Nothing. She groaned, then smashed a fist into the dashboard. To her surprise, the ship lit up like a storm, buttons and screens flashing to life. It had worked. Somehow, it had worked.

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii took a step away from the interceptor, quickly giving the surroundings a second look. There was equipment for maintaining ships that had not been maintained themselves in probably years. He doubted any of them worked. Empty recharge stations for astromech and loader droids hugged the walls along with forgotten cargo containers. The only thing of any value was the two seated starfighter.

The Mandalorian looked back towards the cockpit as Song replied in a suspicious manner. It was to be expected. Kotii made a short leap and ignited his jetpack with a quick burst before landing on the wing of the ship. He walked towards the side of the cockpit and helped her lift the windshield free as she questioned him in return. Once done, he turned to face her and placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to finish her retort.

The echani-offshoot was glad to hear he had made some headway with Song. But she made her feelings about him and their limitations known. He could not help but smile with an amused expression, hints of smugness creeping from his body language. But she probably did not see since she wasted no time in checking out the interior of the ship. He had no intention of trying to sell his way of thinking to her.

A moment passed before she reluctantly asked what the favor was. He took a step and got into the co-pilot seat of the interceptor and began examining what he was working with as he replied. <"Believe in yourself."> He let the request hang in the air after having said it flatly for a moment before adding to it with a reassuring tone. <"I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're a good person, Song. You don't always have to follow others especially when you know there is another choice. I think you know deep down what's right and you want to do better...to be better."> Song had made it clear she felt like just a humble crusader, a single bounty hunter, unable to influence or make the changes she wanted to have in the galaxy. But Kotii knew better. He was not talking about supporting Nox or anything like that as he made the request. He was not asking the Wren to stop or make any drastic changes or cease being Mandalorian. But her sense of judgement, her kindness made her exceptional. There was always a choice and he hoped she would take his request to heart.

<"believe in yourself and I think the galaxy will be better off."> He repeated the favor specifically meant for her ears. Even if she struggled to recognize her own capabilities, Kotii believed in her. A few sounds of clicking later and a large slam from the Wren lead to the ship's controls lighting up. It was convenient timing all things considered. A humored huff came from Kotii and he began running diagnostics on the starfighter to see what they were working with.

Now came the part where she would probably try to leave the planet and take him back to Mandalore. He expected as much but wondered if he was going to have to fight her again and in what capacity. The badger began to ponder yet again how he would allude his captors, coming up with non-lethal methods to incapacitate Song. All of his plans would lead to knocking Song out some way or another and potentially taking control of the starfighter. This meant likely leaving her safely to return back to her base while he slipped away. That was the least pleasant part but it was necessary. Kotii's hands pulled out his slicer deck and began to subtly slice into the ship's systems and make sure he could lock Song out of the controls later on as a precaution. He meant everything he had said before. But the fact remained he would not allow himself to go willingly like a whipped bounty. Kotii hoped she would not bear any hard feelings and doubted she would just let him off the hook either.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

“That’s the big favor you wanted from me? To believe in myself?” She barely contained a fit of laughter, shaking her head in amusement. “I expected you’d dump some dramatic, sentimental speech on me, but I was thinking something a little more, I don’t know, self-serving?” She continued flicking switches and dragging levers, fingers dancing across the cockpit controls, then she shot him a glance over her shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong. It was a good pep talk. A little cheesy, I think, but you would make an excellent motivational speaker if you wanted, Solus.”

She returned her focus to the dashboard. For all her teasing and mocking, Song couldn’t deny the smile that curled her lip. Believe in yourself, she repeated thoughtfully. It seemed like the most basic advice in the world and yet, coming from him, it was the honest truth she needed to hear. She was her own person. Her own Mandalorian. She was more than her father’s lackey, more than an ordinary Rally Master, than a Wren. She was Song of Clan Wren, daughter of Haliya Wren, and she was going home.

As Kotii worked on the secondary controls, she sank comfortably into her seat. Whether he could be trusted or not, she didn’t suspect foul play on his part, not after he’d risked everything in order to keep her safe and alive. Instead, she got cozy. Discarding pieces of her beskar’gam and tucking them into a personal storage slot, she followed with her helmet, planting it on the dashboard with a heavy thud. It was like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. Literally, of course, but she felt as if the worst was now behind them. No more Infected. No more worrying.

She undid her ponytail. Midnight-black hair spilled down her neck, which she raked through and arranged over her shoulder like a twisting waterfall. Once, Song would have shuddered at the idea of revealing her face twice, willingly, to a man she considered an enemy. This time, she didn’t even blink. She just released a sigh, took hold of the throttle, and lifted the interceptor off the ground. Smoke coughed from the back, scattering leaves and soot from around the hangar. Not long after, and the engine was purring like it normally should, tamed to its new master.

Masters, really.

By the time they were in the air, Song banked the interceptor to the east, where the sun burned through the clouds like fire behind smoke, and back towards the apartment building they had stayed in. “Come on,” she told him. “You still left a few things back at that ugly ‘base’ of yours, and so did I—no reason to leave perfectly good jerky for a bunch of mindless cannibals.” It was a silly thing to head back for, but she had other reasons. Revenge, mostly, for being so rudely interrupted back when she and the badger had been just holding a conversation.

It didn't take too long to reach the building. Infected still swarmed the block, and at the sound of the interceptor, they wailed and screamed, trying vainly to reach her. Song ignored them and nodded to Kotii. “Guns are hot. Why don’t we do our friends below a favor too, and give them a few parting gifts?”

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii looked towards the front of the cockpit of the newt class bakuran interceptor, past the head rest and mechanical dashboard towards the Mandalorian ahead of him inside the same interceptor. His facial expression did not change underneath his helmet even as she laughed at his request. He was serious and meant what he said while also hoping Song would take the favor to heart, even if she tried to play it off like a joke.

She was right, he had a knack for cheesy moments and saying those types of things. It was what made him sometimes sound like a quixotic youth. But the Solus was not ashamed of how he tried to motivate her. His gaze dropped slightly at saying he could be a motivational speaker. To the contrary, he had never been great at speaking in front of groups, he thought. Too many people had spoken and used words to lie, manipulate and deceive others. It was why he sometimes refrained from talking at all and instead simply acted. But silence had its own consequences which Kotii was coming to realize. Perhaps it would be better if he spoke up more, even if it was cheesy talk. Maybe he needed to take some of his own advice and believe more in himself.

The badger was quickly and subtly sliced into the starfighter's computer system now. He could temporarily make the ship only respond to his controls but once he initiated that protocol Song would be on to him. So for now he would keep that card close to his chest and not play it. Maybe he could still talk his way out of this and not resort to further violence.

The Wren guided the ship out of its shaded hangar where it had sat for years without activity. The two Mandalorians were brought into the sky at Song's behest before quickly flying over the post-apocalyptic landscape of Tol Amn's once-thriving city center.

Song had removed pieces of her armor and was practically naked by Mandalorian terms inside the cockpit. She was letting her guard down somewhat by Kotii's observation. The man had earned a degree of her trust it would seem, only making him want to refrain from hurting her more in that moment. His red eyes glanced away from the surroundings and looked towards the back of her head, looking at the locks of dark hair that fell behind her. For a moment he found himself staring at Song. He was committing this moment to memory without realizing it, thinking about how odd this whole situation was and also feeling some sense of appreciation for having met the Mandalorian woman.

Eventually the two would approach the part of the city they had fled a previous zombie mob. The echani offshoot chuckled in agreement. There were damaged armor plates, food and supplies as well as his blaster rifle still inside. He was about to ask 'are you sure' but thought better of it. Song had made the decision and felt like reclaiming the lost pieces of equipment as well as dishing some damage out to the undead masses.

There was a small sea of bodies clamoring in the streets and between the buildings. The whine of the ship's engines and its presence in the sky as it hovered in place drew the blurry bloodshot eyes of many moaning infected. <"Don't mind if I do."> he replied with a grin and tightened his gloved hands around the controls of the interceptor. There was no holding back with the mindless targets below him.

The ventral medium laser turret under Kotii's controls started firing and in an instant bodies were turned to pieces as the laser cannons tore through them. Where some fell, more took their place. It was impossible to miss. The frame of the military variant Newt interceptor reverberated as the damaging weapons systems continuously fired into the crowd, cutting them down bit by bit. In a matter of minutes the street was almost completely clear of undead and the turret left smoking after extended use.

<"I don't know if the roof can take support the weight of the interceptor, nor do I think parking in the street is a good idea."> The ground was littered with bodies or pieces of bodies, many of them smoldering from the high heat of the laser cannon energy blasts. If more undead came towards their location in a second wave then they would be back to square one. <"Do you mind staying aloft? I'll grab the important stuff and fly back without you having to touch down."> He suggested. It would give Song a perfect opportunity to just leave Kotii stranded on the planet alone, or she could try to turn the starship's weapons against him. But the man did not think she was the type of person to do that. Her mission was to capture him and bring him to Mandalore so he doubted she would just leave him, plus he believed her when she said she respected him. So in turn, Kotii was trusting Song. But if she wanted to park the ship and come with him he would not protest.


@Song

 

[Song Wren]

Song observed with distinct satisfaction as Kotii tore through the mob of Infected like ripping paper. Dark bile and blood spattered across the walls of the complex. An arm flew here, a leg there. It was in the following silence, once the dust settled and the street cleared of plaster, that she saw the apartments, beautifully empty and bare. The Infected would no longer be a bother to them now, and not to anyone left living in a five block radius.

She had considered setting the ship down so they might both comb through the complex and retrieve their things, but at Kotii’s offer, she hesitated. He had a point. Better for only one of them to head inside while the other stayed to safeguard the ship, but why her? She had tried to murder him. She’d been his prisoner, and not even hours ago. The fact he was so ready and willing to put his trust in her was, to say the least, surprising.

And so, so like the Kotii she’d come to know.

“Go ahead,” Song told him. “I’ll wait.”

She gave him what passed as a reassuring smile. Once he disembarked from the ship and landed atop the building’s gravel roof, however, she felt a tug in her chest. A deep, dark urge to reach for the weapon controls. She had seen the way it obliterated the surrounding Infected, and there was not a shadow of doubt in her mind that she could do the same to the former Solus’alor. She had every advantage now. He, exhausted and defenseless. The temptation pressed on her heavily.

Song chewed the inside of her cheek. It would be so easy, but what would that accomplish? A big score. A dead exile. Justice served. Perhaps she’d bring glory back to Clan Wren, to her own name, but she remembered the compromise she and Kotii had made, the unsaid vow they shared. What honor would she have to break it, and for what? Her father’s approval? A dead dar’manda whose only mistake had been trying to save his people?

She leaned back into her seat and ran a hand over her face. She had made her choice.

When Kotii was finished retrieving the supplies, Song would bring the ship low to the ground to meet him, cracking open the cockpit and storage hatch. “Took you long enough, Solus,” she said. “Now, are we leaving this cesspool you called a home, or what?”

@Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Kotii knew his reserves of ammunition was not infinite, and his endurance had its limits even with the assistance of first aid. The Mandalorian did not waste any time or effort in precisely placing headshots or stabbing swiftly into the skulls of the remaining undead. The dilapidated halls that the Wren and Solus had taken refuge in were soon painted in more ghoulish brains and left silent, smelling of ozone.

The supplies were somewhat scattered and needed to be collected by Kotii before he could return to the surface. The Echani offshoot affixed the damaged plates back onto his armor rigging since it beat carrying them separately. He grabbed his sniper rifle and wanted to bring it in the cockpit where he sat rather than have it separate in the storage compartment. The armor pieces that Song had left behind were also collected but stowed with the remaining supplies and gear Kotii did not, or could not carry on him.

Kotii waited until he was strapping himself back into the seat before replying. The hints of a smile could be heard from behind his helmet as spoke. <"I don't call it home, yet."> He corrected. But now the bounty hunter had to consider where they were headed next.

Traveling by sublight without a hyperdrive meant there were only a few options if memory served him. <"Are you wanting to take me back to civilization or just some remote place without the undead? I can make a suggestion towards either."> His tone was casual despite talking about his fate, knowing what Song had intended for him. <"The Kleeva system has a droid factory I know of...or used to at least.". He said and pointed towards what he thought was the right direction out of the solar system and then did the same for the his first addition. <"Then there's Toydaria...obviously."> His hand lowered and he tilted his head to look towards Song and see which way she was leaning. <"Either one is on the Oktos trade route. You can get a ride anywhere from that point"> Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa were at one end of that trade route as well. In the opposite direction was the Trax Tube, leading to more hyperlanes.

While she decided he would get out a rag and a canteen, beginning to clean the carbon scoring off of his own armor as they hopefully left the stormy planet behind for awhile. He only intended on coming back with flame projectors and perhaps even scores of droids would minimize the risk. But such logistics could be saved for later.

<"Since there's no rush and we have plenty of time, why don't you tell me your preferred taste in starships. I doubt we'll find a starfighter that seats two with a hyperdrive anywhere we end up."> There could be carriers, or maybe a hyperdrive ring, but those were also unlikely. Mostly Kotii wanted to pass the time since it would be hours, possibly days until they reached a hyperlane.

@Song

 

[Song Wren]

“Kleeva system sounds like a good idea,” she answered, and surprisingly quick. Song shouldn’t have trusted whatever locations Kotii had provided. She should’ve gone to a world she was most familiar with, her own home turf, or a populated city-planet where either of them could disappear into a crowd and peacefully part ways. But what reason did the former Solus’alor have to betray her now? He had laid everything at her feet, put his trust in her hands, and she’d done the same.

So, she would continue doing just that. Trust him.

Once he’d settled into the co-pilot’s seat and closed the cockpit hatch, Song would bring them up, the ruined town shrinking below them. In moments, the sky around them turned into a heavy blanket of clouds, and then, the black void of space, countless stars stretching out before them. It was a strange feeling. Days ago, she’d been chasing Kotii through this same orbit, guns hot and blazing, and now they were seated together, flying out as if old comrades.

Hands on the throttle, she banked the intercepter to the left, following the directions on their rusty nav-computer towards the Kleeva system. A droid factory was bound to have a range of functional ships for them to choose from, or at least enough parts for her to rebuild one from scratch.

Still, they had a long ways to go.

“Well,” Song said at his question, “I could care less about what starship I can get my hands on. I’ll take whatever can get me back to Krownest. Even if it means I have to suffer sharing a freighter with you, I’m not bothered either way.” She drummed her fingers against the dashboard. Had she really just admitted to Kotii, a dar’manda, a disgraced exile and a stain on Mandalore, that she didn’t mind his company?

Yes, she supposed. Yes she did.

end thread.​