How to pull a Trigger

[Djorn Bline]

Mandalore

Finally, freed from that creature. He was free from those chains that bounded him to the Vong known as the Hydra Queen, and it won't be long till they clashed with each other again. Suicide, it would be but he always returned the favor to anyone who dared to insult him and turn him into a sex slave and being a Warrior at the same time. But there was no time to worry and train to improve his skills he knew, and gain other skill sets that would come useful in a future. Now was the time to enjoy his freedom from that wretched monster. He would soon return back to the Protectorate and handle with its military, and catch up with missed events that had happen without him.

Today he would use one of his day offs to venture off to somewhere in the Galaxy, as long it wasn't One Sith territory of course. Though, he didn't want to go to a planet or world he was familiar with. No, he wished to go off somewhere he had never visited. Many choices there were in this endless universe. But, due to his background as a soldier, he thought of the foundation and capital of a fearful culture that mostly everyone took serious: Mandalore. Home to the brave, proud, and honorable men and women. They weren't like the rest of the Galaxy that was corrupted in few places because of greed or power. These people don't share those views or beliefs at all. And, perhaps, he would see one of his own brethren that had left the Protectorate and join the fearless Mandalorians. But for now, it was all him.


Walking through the streets of Mandalore on a city called Keldabe was Canal with his scarred and battle worn face. Still young he was, but battles of wars began to shape his face with battle scars and what not. As he was walking he came up to a local bar to take a few drinks and, if he was lucky enough, a fight. "One bottle of beer," he gave his order to the bartender and quickly came with the clone's drink. Cold it was, and he liked his drinks cold. Even if he was taking a day off to himself he brought along a pistol and a knife in case he found himself in a mess that would require a gun to quell down any bar fight.

"Let's see how well this day turns out to be."

[member=Zandra Fenni]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

"Oi! 'Nother round over 'ere!"

The Echani's already inebriated voice rang out clear as milk in the cantina. Zandra Tal'verda, or just Z as she was starting to go by here, was sitting at a table, cards in her hands, surrounded by a few very disappointed looking Mandalorians. Another drink was set down in front of her, and Zandra turned her attention back to the game.

"A'right, where were we? Right! my turn."

She drew another card without batting an eye, but she wanted to smile so bad. She had this round in the bag. Or so she thought.

"Sabaac!" one of the men at the table shouted, punching the air as her lay his cards down with one hand, "I win! I finally won!"

Zandra blinked at the cards laid out on the table, then at the stack of credits chips.

"Wow! Congradulations!" she took a deep swing of the blue liquid in her glass. The mando across from her started to happily collect his winnings, then the Echani's gloved hands shot out to stop him. "...or that's what I would say if this was actually your win."

She set her hand down on the table too with a smile.

"An Idiots Array," she announced, "Better luck next time, champ."

With a smile and a wink, Zandra opened her pouch and scooped her winnings into it. This was going to be a good night-

"Bloody cheater!"

...Or not. Nobody called her a cheater! Zandra's head snapped up to glare at the man she'd just won against. He glared back, and for a good long moment, that was it... until she swung her fist out and hit him square in the jaw. He went tumbling backwards, feet over head. It would have been comical, if not for the fact that she'd just attracted the attention of his buddies at the table next to them. A group of four stood up in unison, each of them shadowing the petite Echani like a mountain range.

"...Kark."


[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Around him many were doing their own business. Some were talking about their own personal lives and the events happening int the universe while a few were playing cards. While he was just drinking his cold beer. He had no business to talk with at all, and he didn't mind. Didn't made him feel bad or hurt his feelings. If he wanted to talk, then he'll talk. If someone wanted to talk with him, so be it. But something was bothering him. A familiar voice was in this bar that he had encountered a long time ago. It was the voice of a woman, and he barely met women personally.

After hearing that voice ring in his head he turned around and a, "Oh, that little..." If it wasn't for that woman that had dared to shoot him on Corusant after a little miscommunication between the two. Oh, he still remembered that face and sometimes thought to himself if he should've taken away that child that she was carrying of his brother Calico. His morals kept him from doing such thing, but he still tampered with that thought and predicted what would've happened if that incident were to happen. So, she was gambling with other Mandos and was beating them. He despised gambling, for it was a fool's game to either win or lose money.

Then, the game was becoming tensed as Zandra punched a Mandalorian who thought he had won that round. Moments later four Mandos would begin to surround her after the assault she did against the Warrior she had punched. "Well, well, well," he began out loud and stood up from his seat, "look what we have here." The Fett clone began to walk towards the woman and the four Mandalorians. "Four men picking on a defenseless, little girl. Tell you four what: I'll give you as many credits as you want and begone. How 'bout that?" He proposed to the four Warriors in order to quell down the tension.

"Though, there's always another way to resolve this," right hand was at its holster ready to be drawn out if anything violent were to happen.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Zandra heard the voice of her husband from somewhere in the Cantina. She growled under her breath, her anger at his being out of bed and complete confusion fighting each other. "Little girl". He never dared to call her that. He knew better. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing.

This was not her Calico. She knew that face... well, that version of that face. She cracked her knuckles, glaring at the pervert clone who dared to kiss her without her permission. If Calico was here, oh, he'd be in big trouble, but he might survive at least. With Zandra? She counted him as good as dead.

"Back off, Junior," the Echani snarled, fingers ticking the blaster at her hip, "You aughtta know better by now."

One of the men lunged at her, and even in her drunken state, she was faster than him. She was usually faster than the tin-can wearing, jibberish-speaking, large-gun-clearly-compensating-for-something "warriors" around here. She side stepped, brushing one booted foot out to trip him up. He fell forward with a crash. The next one came after her with a fist aimed at her face. She whirled around, caught it in her hand and jerked it back until she heard a crunch of bone. She then landed a heavy punch to his abdomen and let him fall where he stood.
She was stronger than she looked. Petite, thin, a bone structure that looked like her own muscle weight would snap it. But a childhood of hard training was difficult to forget. Her husbands people had armor to protect them. Her people rejected heavy armor. Thought it made them slow, weak. They relied on their own skill to survive. They worked their bodies and used that as armor. And Zandra, outcast or not, was no exception.
The third one to come at her got a foot to the scrotum. Served him right, of course, trying to come up behind her like that. Unfortunately, she did not see the fourth until he had already hit her square in the jaw.

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Junior? No one dared to call him Junior. If a man were to call him that, then you could expect a fight to break off. If a woman were to call him that, then multiple factors would pop into his mind wondering what he she do to that individual. He didn't dare to do anything to aid or resolve this situation except say, "If I were you I'd shut my dirty, prostitute mouth. Don't know where that has been." Yes, he dared to insult her. And he didn't care.

"Drinks on me if you discipline that thing," he proposed to everyone in the bar and insulting the woman even more. "Put her in her place," and continued drinking his beer waiting for more people to gang up on the Echani. "Wonder if I have to do the dirty job."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The Echani straightened up, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. Oh. Now she was ticked. That was gunna leave a bruise before she could come home to her husband. Of all things, she didn't need Cal seeing her all beat up. She hit back, of course, and the final guy tumbled to the floor with the rest.

...Unfortunately that peace didn't last long. The word 'prostitute' was used. 'Dirty' too. Seemed pretty clear what was on this perverts mind. One by one, the Cantinas patrons stood up. Zandra growled, and made a bee line to the short distance to Canal, whipping out her blaster as she went.

"I don't think so, creep. Touch me, any o' ya, and he won't be in a position to buy drinks, eh?" She glared down at her husbands 'brother' with a searing look, "Call 'em off, if ya know what's good fer ya."

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Hostile movements were something he always responded to with swiftness. If he heard the cock of a gun the clone would duck to take cover and see if his stimulus responded to a false alarm or an actual situation. The right hand went to the side of his waist and took out the blaster pistol that was in its respected holster, and found itself aiming at Zandra. The probability of a fight breaking out was very high, since he knew what type of woman this was that didn't like to cooperate at all. Canal liked cooperation, but after what had happened to these two figures he knew what was coming to him.

The patrons of the bar rose up as they all heard free drinks if they were to do what the clone had announced to everyone in general. His left hand still had the cold beer that was slowly, constantly changing its temperature. Then came a threat that was directed to Canal, but not to the patrons. They wouldn't care about her threatening Canal and not them, but if she were to say that she'll kill anyone who dared to confront her then a few of the patrons would sit back down in their chairs and spectate the main event in front of them.

"I don't take orders from people like you," answering back to Zandra as she ordered him to call off his proposal to the patrons. "And if I were you I'd lower that pistol before something bad happens to you." The man prepared himself for the worse that might occur any second now. His pride was what got him in situations like this, but a man had to be a man and defend his own image that he constructed ever since his birth.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

So here they were now, blasteres at the ready, glaring at each other. How stupid. She didn't have time for this. She had to get home to Calico and their son. How could Cal ever call this man 'brother'? He was a monster.

With a click, Zandra turned the safety off. She meant it. She'd shoot if she thought for just one second he'd try to hurt her, especially now. Calico didn't even know yet that he had another little pup on the way.

"You seem to have a thing for threatenin' pregnant women," she hissed, hooking her foot around a chair behind her, "Unless ya want Calico to kick yer teeth down yer throat, I suggest ya cool it."

One move. Just one wrong move here.

"Ya hear that? I ain' gunna hesitate. I got a bullet with the name of every sorry piece of bantha poodoo in here. Sit yer self back down b'fore it finds ya."

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Just like Corusant both individuals were holding their firearms at each other in a bar. Oh, it seemed as if it was yesterday with some edits in the scene. This was a nice way to have a day off. Fighting and shooting and killing. Just one hostile attack from the woman and he will exchange an attack with her. While he was an ass for most of the time he had his own code. In scenarios similar to this one he would wait until someone dared to attack which would initiate a fight between Canal and the attacker. He was observing every movement of the Echani and saw her foot wrap around a chair behind her while talking at the same time. He predicted that the woman would throw the chair specifically at the clone.

"Oh, still carrying a bastard in there?" He spoke and lowered his pistol and Zandra's stomach. "Shame if something were to happen to him." No doubt, this woman would take it serious and probably pull the trigger of her weapon. "You don't have proof that I'm Canal. There are multiple of us that share the same face. So, I'd suggest you find evidence that it was me before you say crap that Calico won't even believe."

"And once again, I don't take orders from you. Not now, not ever," he responded back with pistol still aiming at her stomach. Now this was much like Corusant. Pregnant woman and all.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The Echani hissed as the clone lowered his blaster to her stomach. When it came to her little ones, Zandra was a fierce mother Nexu. Still, she wasn't stupid. She let her blaster go loose in her hand, a sign that she was willing to put it away if he did too.

"Ain't no bastard, this one," she replied eyes flashing down at her abdomen, "We're married now. Yer lookin' at Mrs. Tal'verda. And I know it's you Canal, cuz of the way you hold yerself. Everybody's a lil' different."

She'd studied his stance last time, memorized it. Calico held himself different. Kix held himself different. All the Tal'verda's did. It was one of the perks of her race. She noticed these things. She saw the subtle difference.

"An' even so, don't need no proof. Something happen to me or the kid? Cal won't be lookin' fer proof. He'll just be lookin' for blood. And here you are, pointing a blaster at me. On the security cam."

Her eyes flashed to the recorder behind the bar, then back to him.

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Surprised he was when he saw her drop her weapon. So, she wasn't arrogant at all. Weird, she had put her unborn child in risk the last time they crossed paths on Corusant. After he witnessed her actions he lowered down his pistol and was glaring at Zandra. He always had his own code. "Good, you've learned to control yourself. I commend you on that," he said sarcastically and a chuckle. But he then widened his eyes when he learned about the news of her marriage with Calico. "Oh, I wish if that was a joke," he muttered quietly to himself. "Well, at least I am different with my other brothers. Don't care if you know it's me," he said to her.

But the one thing that bothered him was the fact of him being on footage. Calico didn't need to know that. Not in the slightest. True, they were family but proof of Canal pointing a gun at Zandra's unborn child that's going to develop some problems. "I could always get rid of that footage one way or another. I have more money than you. I have more contacts than you. In the end, I'll always dominate you just like back in Corusant."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

Calico had given Canal a chance. Though he had not confronted the younger warrior, he knew exactly what he had done before. While he was sympathetic toward Canal's recent situation, there would be no excuse for any further transgressions.

So when the Chieftain received a call in the middle of the night from the cantina owner that someone had pointed a blaster at his wife, Cal was ready. He was the leader of one of Mandalore's most prominent settlements, and Mandalore was a giant small town.

Everyone knew one another, one way or the other.

Clad in his usual armor minus the helmet, Calico arrived outside the cantina with his Verpine Shattergun raised. Mando'ade gave him a wide berth, everyone knew that if one of their own had a weapon pulled, there was a good reason for it.

The cantina doors slid apart.

The Chieftain of Tal'verda, hero of Drunkenwell, former leader of the galaxy's greatest military, strode through with a predatory gate.

"Mandalore is a small world di'kut. I've had you on watch for quite some time."

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Zandra glared at the clone in front of her. He wore her husbands face, but he was not her Calico. It was the word 'dominate' that ticked her off the most. She still had her foot hooked around that chair. She could kick it at him, maybe get his blaster away before trying to shoot him. But that was a risk, and as much as Zandra liked to gamble, she did not gamble with her children. She was simply going to have to deal with it. Tell Calico later and hope he believes her. Because he was right. He could destroy evidence. He could get away with pointing his blaster at her baby.

...Or could he?
The cantina fell unusually quiet as a door opened. She didn't look behind her, she was too busy glaring ahead at the clone. And then she heard his voice. His tone was unmistakable. This was her Cal. She risked a glance behind her and then she stepped aside.

"Hey there, hero. Just in time."

[member="Calico Tal'verda"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

The man whom he called 'sir', had entered; the man whom he called 'commander', had entered; the man whom he called 'brother', had entered. That last part was more important than the other titles this role model of his had earned in his life. The pistol that was clutched in his right hand was now placed in its holster. His eyes were no longer trained on Zandra. They found themselves locked on Calico and silence filled in the room. Seemed like a soap opera, but it was like it. A man having his image reflect in a mirror was happening just now. They shared the same face, the same blood, the same background. Their faces carried scars and marks that were earned through the roughness of combat and war. Just like those who were within the Dreadguard Mark I program. They all shared most things in common, but what really set made each and everyone one of them different was their personality. And both men knew each other's personality.

How long had it been since they've had any means of contact? How long? Months? Years? Who knew, but it was a long, long time since they talked or saw each other. Ever since the fake KIA that the Protectorate had bought things had been...bizarre, if you could say. Canal and a short numbers of Fett clones stayed within the Protectorate, others ventured out to find their own paths, and most went to Mandalore where they could call it home. And after that KIA to Calico the Clone Captain was more rough than he used to back in the Confederacy. Well, everything changed.

He could see the scattergun in Calico's hands and predicted that he just had it to make sure there was no hostility between Zandra and Canal, but peace between the two individuals. Like, who would shoot their own blood? Well, Canal certainly did back on Druckenwell and he didn't regret putting down a traitor that failed to regroup with his own people. But there was no offense between Canal or Calico. Canal always respected him in all types of scenarios and situations. But what should he say? Seemed awkward at the moment seeing your brother after a long ass time.

"First time I've been here," he replied to Calico, "didn't know you've kept an eye on me. And there I was believing you were dead."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

"You put a gun to my wife, and then put it to my unborn child." Calico snarled. "You think I wouldn't keep an eye on you after the first time?"


The former Dreadguard stepped further into the room, and he certainly wasn't holstering his Shattergun. Canal had changed. This wasn't the same confused, but albeit good man he and Galaar had trained.

This was Preliat Mantis all over again.

"You remained with the Protectorate, who used us to glass a planet. You threaten my wife claiming dominance - yes, I heard. Mandalore is a small world Canal. I have influence here. If someone threatens my blood, I get the call."

The Shattergun gave a low whir as it reached full charge. "Di'kutla aruetisse. You've did honored the clan name, turned on every virtue of the Dreadguard, and knowingly threatened the wife of your Chieftain."

His finger came to rest on the trigger.

"Why in Corellia's Nine Hells shouldn't I paint you all over the walls?"

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"] [member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Zandra was silent as her husband confronted the man to threaten her and her child. This had to be hard for him. She watched at her husbands side, hand laid carefully over her still flat stomach. It was just a little clump of cells right now, but it was their clump of cells. This clump would grow until it became family. Could she ever forgive someone for threatening her family? Could Calico?

She gently reached out with her other hand to touch her husbands shoulder. She had her pride too. She didn't like relying on her husband to protect her. She was far from helpless.

"Cal," she said quietly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "I'm alright."

Not that she didn't want to see the man that threatened her child hurt. She really did want to see that. Badly. But not from Calico. This was his child, his family. But this was also his brother. The idea of brother killing brother was sick. It felt like Galaar all over again.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

There was no reason he would lie ath this moment. Hell, he never had lied to any of his own, but he sure had lied to other people in the past. And he would face every consequence and take responsobilty of his own actions. The clone still stood upright and proud not moving an inch or even a centimneter. He didn't cowered and retreated when he saw the shattergun, nor did he reached for his pistol in his holster. Though, the man didn't saw the whole picture. Back at Corusant it was Zandra who pulled the gun and shot first, not Canal. Cooperative he was during that scenario and tried to find a neutral solution with no one getting hurt.

"Technically, she pulled out the gun when we first met and caused a short fight between us when she pulled the trigger. I'll admit that it was me starting this conflict, but last time it was her."

And then he came to the topic of the Protectorate. Them glassing a planet? He didn't recall that action being initiated from the Protectorate after seeing the many video footage that it was the Confederates that executed that action. "It was the 'Feds that glassed Druckenwell. Not us," was his only reply to Calico with a calm, neutral face as well as his tone of voice.

But what really got him off was next coming sentence. How dare he called him a traitor. When did he ever betrayed him or his blood? Since, when? He did admit that he threatened Zandra on purpose and some virtues, but the rest that he said had no weight of truth. "Don't you dare call me a traitor," he said with a hint of anger in his tone and pointing his right, index finger at Calico, "I've been with you since day one when they took me out of that tube. I gave you my loyalty, my trust, everything that I had when I came out to this universe. I never backstabbed you nor betrayed you in any manner just for you to call me that word." And it was true. He was loyal to him and executed every command with no hesitation what so ever. The perfect soldier that every officer wanted that never questioned every order that was given.

Now came to the part where he had to say something to not die. Would he pull the trigger? But he had a card that really affected everyone with the vode at that very battle. Calico had done it once, but would he do it again?

"Let me ask you something," he began, "do you really want to relive Druckenwell?" A jab that the three individuals knew what Canal was saying. "Are you really going to do what you did to Galaar?" And mind the fact that there was no smirk on his face, but just a neutral face expression.

[member=Zandra Tal'verda] [member=Calico Tal'verda]

 

[Revenchent]

"The Seps were forced into it by us!" Calico snarled.

He loved Zandra dearly. So much, that when someone threatened his girl, not even she could stop him. His finger settled over the trigger of the Shattergun. One shot, and it would be done. The clan shame, the distrust, the threat, all of it, gone.

It would be so easy.

"Don't test me boy." He added sharply.

"A man doesn't threaten a pregnant woman, even if she's cutting his fingers off. You hear me, di'kut? Not even the aruetisse put a blaster to a pregnant woman's stomach. Just you."




[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

It was like he didn't even hear her. She looked at Canal, knowing that he had dug his own grave. Even if he begged her forgiveness, there was no way for her to help him out of the hole. She sighed, turning to the rest of the cantina patrons.

"Unless ya'll wanna get in the way of a family feud here, I suggest ya leave now."

That seemed to be enough. Everyone stood up at once and shuffled out, but she knew they would be waiting outside to hear what happened.

[member="Calico Tal'verda"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Checkmate. What he had said about Galaar was nothing to counter or loophole around it. Still he stood proud and tall and held his ground. No way he was going to cower or fear with sweat trickling his body. No, that got pounded out of him at Kamino along with those giraffe cloners tampering around with his genetic coding, but he succeeded in having traits of his own personality but some of the DNA coding was revolver around his own personal personality. And whenever threatened him or cut off his own fingers he would not give any tolerance at all. You point a gun, expect the same unless you were someone like Calico. And Zandra was somewhat not an importance to him, but that could change.

"I have my own way of dealing with people, Calico. I don't tolerate strangers shooting at me." He wondered if he had finally ticked off the bear or not. The patrons and the bartender began filling out of the bar, though they didn't went home and sleep. They stood outside waiting and hearing.

There was nothing more to say at the moment. He just waited for their action tso he could respond back.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Calico Tal'verda"]