Duel Ghosts of the Past

[Mia Monroe]

The fire cracked and popped in the centre of the small hut, almost drowned by the sounds of the rain hammering on the roof. Zanbar had become her retreat, sparsely populated save for the wildlife, it was the easiest place for her to escape without being too far away. And escape was needed, even if it was just to be able to organise her thoughts.

How did you tell an entire people that their Mand’alor had just…gone. He wasn’t taken, he didn’t die, he simply left. Was this her fault? She had been the one to push him towards the mantle…

A sigh escaped her lips as she set the teapot over the fire, dropping in one of Ordo’s herbal mixtures in the water. A tingling ran up her spine as she set the lid upon it, her eyes snapping to the door. Unclipping her helmet from her belt and settling it on her head she snatched up the shotgun resting by the door and stepped out into the rain.

Something was out here, she could feel it.

Preliat Mantis

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He had come.

​

Out in the rain, stood none other than the Wolf of Mandalore.

Death himself.

In the flesh. In the armor. Spiked gauntlets, the whole nine. And he had come face to face with Mia Monroe. The Liberator. The Betrayer. The Murderer. The undoing of Mandalore.

Retribution, after so many years, had come.

He reached to the cloak around his shoulders, letting it fall after undoing the clasp. He let the jetpack fall to the ground behind him, along with his belt, blaster, but held the Beskad- his Beskad, in his left hand, that brutal, terrible Tomahawk in his right.

He tossed the Beskad at her feet, the blade slinging across the air with enough speed to let it slam in front of her, handle up towards her. An expert throw, and a point to be made. He began to pace, the T-shape visor staring at her. He did not need to speak, he did not need to elaborate. There was no use in waxing poetic, in speaking of things they both knew.

Preliat Mantis had come to kill Mia Monroe.

And that was what he was going to do.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia's shotgun snapped up but didn't fire.

Her blood ran cold.

"Preliat."

Of all the people...it had to be him.

Beneath her helmet she opened her mouth, wanting to utter something along the lines that he was dead, and this wasn't possible, but she snapped it shut, she knew better. Despite the fear that crept up her back, she didn't flinch as he launched the beskad, nor did she look down as it embedded itself in the mud at her feet.

A beat passed as he began to pace, awaiting her answer.

She took two steps back, lowering the shot gun, and setting it against the wall of the hut. T-visor still focused on him, before she stepped forward tugging the beskad from the mud, spinning it once as she continued her advancing towards him, testing the weight.

"I do not fear death."

Preliat Mantis

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Silence, before the storm.​

For a brief moment, there was a tense, awful silence save for the rain against their armor. He looked up to the sky, the stars and the heavens above. Then back down to the mud, to the hell that he was in. He crouched low, running his hand along the mud, before rising back to his feet.

"I know."

He walked forward, pacing low, slightly hunched over. Low, cruelly fast, and coiled like a viper.

"You will fear me."

He launched himself forward, beginning their duel not with a flourish of his axe, but a straight leg kick towards her torso. His armored leg launched forward in a blur towards her stomach. He wanted to see how much she still had in her, after all this time.

If she still had it in her, at least.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

She didn;t have time to respond, to admit that she already feared him. Not because of what he could do to her, but because of everything he represented. the loathing that had followed her for nearly half a century in the wastes of the nether, how many like Preliat had she fought there? How many souls had come to take their chunk out of the Liberator?

The Wolf of Mandalore had always been fast, ruthless and powerful in his strikes, she only needed the split second it took for him to launch himself forward, mud slipping beneath his boot as the kick came for her stomach.

She twisted, the boot grazing the front of her armour, driving an armoured fist towards the outside of his knee, her right hand bringing the beskad forward to slash for his throat.

Preliat Mantis

 

[Preliat Mantis]

There was only war.

​

Mia had gone soft.

She had become predictable.

Pity.

He pulled his leg in as soon as his kick made purchase, her fist flying over empty space. Which made the Beskad coming for his throat more of a problem. He turned his head downwards, the blade scraping along his armored hood, creating a shower of sparks.

Her arm was still outstretched, still forward of her body thanks to her movement with the beskad. He had plenty of options to attack with an outstretched arm. He chose the most forward option.

A fist went flying towards Mia's exposed ribcage, right in the soft part of her armor, where it connected to form the cuirass. He knew where to hit. But not to kill. It was to hurt, to cause pain.

To make her suffer.

His gauntlet went crashing towards her ribcage, lethal intent and malice behind it.

"You cling to the past like a disease."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia let out a grunt as the gauntlet connected with her lower ribcage, retreating half a step to bring her defences back up, her breath bringing a small but sharp pain. A cracked rib? Maybe, but Mia and pain were old friends, she was accustomed to it. It would take more than that to break her.

She brought her left arm to a horizontal, activating a circular energy shield, frowning at his words. The beskad he'd provided pointing at him over the shields top, holding a defensive stance.

Let him come at her.

"The past died with me at Sundari. I'm only concerned with our future. You're the one still looking for my death, Wolf."

Preliat Mantis

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Deflecting to me."

He put his hands up, swinging the axe around his body, faster than he did the last time they met. He was quicker than before, like he got the spring back in his step.

"This isn't about me."

Preliat pulled his left arm back, the one free of the beskad- and sent it crashing down towards her shield in a devastating punch. Between the crushgaunts ,the Beskar'kandar, and the Wolf of Mandalore's, one of the Cuir Rekr's, brutal, legendary strength-

She would have to endure quite a hit, shield or not. And if that first punch did not shatter her shield. He'd hit it. Again.

And again.

And he'd break her guard like he broke so many others.

Mia Monroe