Private Don't Be Mad....

[Mia Monroe]

It'd taken great effort to peel the rest of her armour off on the flight home, without taking more skin with it. The bacta patches she'd managed to cover herself with were now hidden beneath fresh clothes, though she could feel fabric sticking to her back where she'd not been able to reach as she rested in the pilot chair, coasting over the city of Keldabe, she ignored the security that hailed her, responding only with automated codes. They didn't press, tracking her trajectory to the Iron Home, the knew her ship and knew when not to push.

Her focus settled on her breathing, keeping it steady and slow, crucitorn kept her pain at a dull throb, but even a dull throb when it covered half your body took its toll. She scooped up the half melted breastplate as she descended the landing ramp, heading straight for the forge. Ijaat would have his head buried, even if just to help align his thoughts. The rhythmic thrum of his hammer brought an ease to her shoulders as she slid inside, setting the breastplate on a nearby workbench, she leaned against it watching and waiting for him to come to her in his own time.

Apprehension crept up on her, tying her stomach in knots. She'd gone over every possible way this conversation was going to go and she couldn't figure out which way it was going to go. They'd not talked about Kaine, or the sith. Their only focus had been home, and rebuilding.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

He knew. He could feel the pain as soon as she was close enough to feel anything from her. Before she had even landed, he had worked through his anger on it. She was a Mandalorian, the same as him. Their very nature was combat and the chaos and pain of it. So he had set about working and heating bes'manda for her new armor. The process was demanding time and attention even more so than beskar and in some ways, he enjoyed it even more because of that.

Slowly as she sat and watched, he turned as he let the metal cool to the air. Approaching her, obvious concern was writ on his face, but he merely wrapped her in a gentle hug, careful of her back and then pulled back to look her in the eyes. A jerk of his head and he indicated the billets resting behind them, glowing softly.

"Making you something a little different I had intended it to be a while out, but... It seems pertinent now..."

Sighing, he stepped back and looked her up and down. Unease radiated from her, an uncommon thing.

"Something bothers you.... What is it, cyar'ika?"

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia looked at him for a long moment before answering, uncertain, not of him but of herself. "The Tsis'kaar were sniffing around Zanbar. Just one scout. I've put word out to others patrolling to keep their eyes peeled, and to eliminate without question."

Malum was not wrong, Mandalore sat in a pivotal strategic point, and when word began to spread of its reformation, people would come. They would start with gifts, then when their strength grew, they would come with fire. Enemies were everywhere. She reached out, tugging him back to her, resting her forehead on his chest. His presence soothed her, chased her demons back into the dark corners of her mind, silencing her doubt. She had made the right choice.

"My duty, is to watch your back." She said finally lifting her head and looking up at him. "Right now we are blind, our people too scattered. I need to be able to see whatever is coming for you in order to protect you." She knew well enough thay Ijaat could protect himself but this was about more than his pride.

"The leader of the Tsis'kaar is a child, by the name of Darth Malum of House Marr . He is responsible for.. ." she gestured at the ruined armour. "I killed eight of his men, the orbital bombardment, while overkill was justified."

She paused, hesitating. "I need you to meet with him."

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

The voice that answered was cold, and his body language stiffened. Nothing that could be called rage came from him Just... Nothing... A cold edge of calculation spiked his aura.

"To what end would I meet with him, other than to put his head on a spike for what he did to you, and for what he is?"

Drawing back, but not letting her go, he eyed her, his gaze intense, seeking. He trusted her,and always would. But that didn't mean he did so without thought or consideration. That was not his way, and never would be. Even for her.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia tilted her head as she looked up at him. She expected the cold response to the request, it was what came next that she was unsure of.

"The Tsis'kaar are a reformation of the Sith Assassins. There network is vast, bith within and without the Sith Order. For me to ally with him gives me direct access to that network. It gives me eyes where we have none, which is a resource both of us are in dire need of."

She held up her hand to stop any interruptions thay might come. "In return for access to this information, I've offered my help to him for removal of tyrants within the Order. And he's asked to meet with you, to help us rebuild. I've not promised him anything where you or the Protectors are concerned. Only that I would get him an audience."

There was so much more, like how this was her direct link to Kaine, how it would be invaluable in bringing the Sith who'd decimated their home and their people to his knees. Then there was the fact that, beyond her best judgement, she saw something in Malum, even before Ophidia reared her head within him.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

"If by audience you mean a private room where I crucify him alive, then it is granted.."

The words stuck hollow in his throat. He saw Mia's wisdom. Saw the road forward and the need for this Malum to survive. But it left a sour taste in his mouth. Life and even death had done little to mellow his hatred of the Sith and their ilk. But there was a large mission at play. Shaking his head slowly, he sighed, bowing his gaze in a defeated manner.

"I will meet with him. We will speak. But one step out of line and I will make what his kind have done to ours over the millennia seem a pleasure cruise when I am done with him."

The words were harsh at the end, vicious and edged with venom despite the resignation in his eyes. Then his tone softened as he looked up at Mia, tracing the lines of her face with the back of his hand.

"And if he hurts you again, I will put poison in his blood and abandon him on the wastes of Manda'yaim to those like Korso Rook and make him beg me for death before I grant him such a release..."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia flinched at the mention of blood poison, her hands moving to catch his as face he traced her face. There was deep sadness in her eyes.

"Ijaat..." she searched his face, his expression full of love. How could she possible tell him what she saw in Malum, he like so many others would only see him as a sith. Perhaps because she'd been so close to being one, because she'd been on the receiving end of the wrath of a million Mandalorian's, brothers, sisters that she could find a way to stand in the middle, to see more than the label.

She sighed and dropped her hands. "I'm tired, and I'm pretty sure there is some beskar still set in my back I can't reach." It wasn't a lie, but nor was it any of what was going through Mia's head. they were fated to be stuck in this endless war. Descendants would forever be fighting a war because they, their ancestors started a ball rolling that none of them could now stop. What would happen, when they finished restoring Mandalore? when they stretched their hands out to reclaims other worlds that had once fallen under their protection. The sith would come knocking as they always did and the cycle would begin again.

Over and Over.

Restoration, War, Destruction.

Mia was so very tired.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

"I will give him his due chance. Regardless of his faith or philosophy, your countenance gives him safe conduct to me. But I will be long in trusting him, and slow in the believing of such from him. But if you speak on his behalf, even minimally..."

He sucked in a breath, hesitating.

"If I cannot trust you, I can trust no one. I will be wary, but I will listen and give him his chance to tie his own noose, as his kind is wont to do. And will happily hand him the rope when he does. But I will let him tie the knot. You have my word."

Here he searched her eyes. His expression was calm, level, and almost resigned. Within he railed against even letting a Sith live, for any reason. His uncle, his wife, his children and more screamed for vengeance for the wrongs the Sith had committed. But this one his beloved spoke of was not Reverance or Darth Carnifex . No, this one would be allowed to live free of the sins of his forefathers. Ijaat had to be different than Azrael or Yasha Cadera or the others. Cin vhetin... A clean slate for all, individually. Let their own sins be their damnation.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia managed a small smile at his promise, pushing herself of the bench she'd been leaning on, pressing close to him, forehead pressing against his. "Vor entye, thats all I ask." She kissed him gently before drawing back, a small growl of pain escaping her. "I really don't recommend trying to catch turbolaser fire"

A small chuckle as she leaned on him, the lack of rest from the fight, the constant draw on the force to keep herself as free of pain as possible to be able to get home and safe all of it was catching up on her. "I need painkillers, a bacta bath and rest."

Ijaat Mereel