Ghosts of the Manda

[Gilamar Skirata]

Drip...Drip...Drip...

The steady rise and fall of the Mand'alor's chest harmonized with the breathing apparatus keeping him alive. The constant drip of the bacta flowing into his veins from an iv. The Mand'alor in this position...How did it happen? Not even the doctors at Cardea Medical in Protectorate space had that answer. Cancer had been ruled out almost immediately, same with liver failure. Ironically for the old man, his liver was probably the healthiest organ in him. Regardless, Gilamar was not only sick, he was dying.

Every day the Manda reached out to him, called and beckoned. Old friends and lovers long dead reach out for him, yet something always pulls him back. He had been unconscious for the better part of a month. The doctors said he was in a coma, but many Mandalorians who knew the old man liked to muse that he was just taking a long nap after a night with [member="Strider Garon"]. Either way, they all knew he probably wasn't going to wake up.

On the other side of the room live coverage of the battle for Coruscant between Protectorate forces and the One Sith played muted. Visuals were limited, not that it mattered in Gilamar's case, but even locked in his own mind, staring down Death's Door once again he could feel his brothers and sisters fighting something. He hoped to the Manda for their safety.

[member="Mia Monroe"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia had never gotten the chance to speak to Gilamar, when she returned. She'd left, handing the title to Verz and returned to find Gil in his seat. She'd never questioned it, never asked why. If he was supposed to be there then so be it. The mando'ade supported him, and loved him. He was the father to them all. While he lay on his death bed there was turmoil. Ordo had betrayed them, Mia was dead.

Dead but not gone. Like frak was the manda claiming her yet. She would come back, she had to, but she needed the Mand'alor to wake up.

Gilamar.

The word would echo in his mind.

Gilamar, wake up.

She wanted to shake him to scream in his face. Irrational action that would receive no response.


Mand'alor! Your people need you. Wake. UP!

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

He could hear her voice, the voice of The Liberator as he stood before the gates of the Manda. He knew his people needed him, but he couldn't get up. He had tried so many times and the souls of the passed had again and again pulled him back. Now as he stood in the white room with the large door, engraved with the Mandalorian's greatest battles and heaviest defeats he could do nothing but listen and hear Mia call to him.

"What more do you want?" he asked, defeated. "I've done everything I can! I entrusted our people to you and the others when I made you Field Marshals...Let the new Mand'alor be from your kind."

There had been enough fighting. Now he would rest. His wife beckoned to him, a warm smile on her face. "Come home Gilamar..."

*~~In the Hospital Room
Deep black eyes stared down at this medical mystery. A Rodian doctor watched the monitors next to Gilamar for any sign of change. Raising his wrist to see the time on his chrono he sighed, his antenna drooping slightly in defeat. Once again, a night of silence from the old warrior. His eyes wandered for a moment to the holo screen above him. The battle was desperate, brutal. He could only hope that the Protectorate could wrench control away from the Sith.

Beep...Beep, Beep, Beep.

His patient's heart rate skyrocketed, and his hands began to clench and unclench as if he was struggling, grappling with something within. The Rodian's eyes widened as the monitors all began to show some sort of change. Weather or not these changes was positive had yet to be seen...

[member="Mia Monroe"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Gilamar!

There was desperation in her voice. Mia was never desperate, never pleading. She commanded, demanded and raged when things did not go her way. She hoped that the old man would realize this.

Our people will be broken if you leave them now. Ordo has betrayed us, he has taken his seat as Dark Lord of the One Sith, and I, for all intensive purposes, am dead.

If he turned to look back he might see her, standing on the astral plane as far away from the gates of manda as she could. She had to fight its call. She would be whole, no missing eyes, no mechanical hands, no scars. Whole and pure, and very very desperate.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The voice was much louder now in his head. He spun around, shock and surprise blatantly displayed on his old features. Mia was...dead? This brought a whole new level of urgency. He could almost feel the warmth of his wife's hand on his shoulder. He reached up, grasping it tightly and then looked back to Mia. A sad resolve filled his eyes. Saddened at the death of Mia, and the betrayal of Ordo. With renewed purpose he looked back to the door leading to the Manda as it began to crack and crumble.

He would not get his rest yet. Looking back to Mia he began to speak, but was ripped from the astral plane and thrust into the world of the living, leaving Mia alone.

*~~~~World of the Living

The old man's eyes shot open, light and white blinding. Doctors and nurses looked at him in shock, mid activity. He had lost weight, muscle mass. He was sick, despite him being awake. With a weak, shaky hand he removed the breathing mask, his sickly voice filled the room. "Get me on the first shuttle to Mandalore." he growled.
[member="Mia Monroe"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

There was an ache in her soul as Gilamar left her, and she looked down at ghostly hands.

Mi'ika?

She looked up, to see her father standing there a sad smile tugged at her lips. Come home, Mia.

Not today.


She snapped away from it, away from him away from manda. She had work to do, she had to make sure they were ready. She found [member="Strider Garon"] in his home, sleeping on his back and snoring loudly. clearly not bothered by the noise he was making the two twi'lek women draped over him slept just as soundly. Her ghostly form shimmered at the end of his bed.

Strider you filthy schutta. Wake up.

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider woke sluggishly with the arousal of [member="Mia Monroe"]'s voice echoing in his head. Drunkenly dazed, his mouth dry as a desert, He looked about him to see the scornful beauty. He looked to his right and saw the appetizer he had enjoyed a few hours earlier, nude, young and so full of life. The old man scanned to his right and there was the main course, another nude and sexed exhausted twi'lek. Problem was, where the frak was Mia?

"Show your self Mi'ika! I am sure you have seen worse" He growled in slight irritation and curiosity to why his fellow field marshal was summoning him to wake.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

A soft laugh slipped form Mia, to echo in his head.

This is tame for you, babuir.

There was a touch of sadness in her voice.

Get up. The Mand'alor is awake, he's inbound for Manda'yaim.

[member="Strider Garon"]