Point Defiance Station: Reunion

[Ordo]

On the outskirts of what was once the sprawling expanse of Mandalorian territories, mining station MT-5675/3.5 hung near an asteroid field that had been a small source of heavy metals and frozen fuel accelerants. The station had long since been abandoned due to a collapse of government that without any outside enemies to conquer, turned on itself. Whether gross narcissism, megalomania, or the simple inability to see things from any point of view but their own, the Mandalorians fell and the workers and families of MT-5675/3.5 rebranded their home as Point Defiance Station. They started catering to people that like them preferred to stay off the grid and like all Mandalorians worth their beskar, they survived.

Ordo hadn't been to the station since it was just a super structure and last rally point for the fleet that was sent to face a threat none of them understood. He couldn't say he liked what they'd done with the place but with everything that had happend to that wayward fleet, it was what he needed. He shut down his engines and paid for port fees, repairs, restock and refuel, then with what was left decided he needed a drink in a place that wouldn't give two karks who he was or where he had come from.

It didn't take long to wind his way through the crowds of what seemed like a mix of refugees and displaced mercenaries to the nearest bar. It was dirty, smoky and loud. It was the perfect place to get lost in. He walked to the bar bought his drinks and walked to a corner booth to just drown out the miasma of death and war that had been his entire life for as long as he could. His clan symbols and expeditionary markings seemed out of place but utterly ignored as he leaned over the table in his booth. His personal crest worn and pock marked and beskar'gam style seemed old compared to the few other Vode that dotted the bar, but even they didn't seem to care one way or another. He extended the combat straw from his helmet and started to drown his memories as best he could.

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

On the other side of the bar noise increased tenfold as a dejarik table was upended. The wookie responsible was being restrained by several others, roaring obscenities and accusing his opponent of cheating. Beneath her helmet, Cory blinked in surprise surveying the mess he'd just made. "I didn't cheat you overgrown hairball, I won. Fair and square. You'd rather make a scene than pay up?" Another confirmed that yes, he'd rather make a scene than pay up, because she was a cheater.

Cory sighed. "Fine."

The people holding him back let go and he dove towards her, hands stretched for her neck. She allowed him to get within a foot before her batons extended, points pressing against his chest and delivering a powerful shock that seized him momentarily in his tracks and dropped him to the filthy floor. He'd be out for a few hours, long enough for her to have a few more drinks then disappear. She crouched down, plucking a purse from his belt and counted out what he owed her before putting it back and stepping over him towards the bar.

She leaned against the bar as she waited for her drink, scanning the room and all its shadows, sweeping over each booth. Wherever she went, she stopped to look, maybe, just maybe, her old man would appear in a dark and shadowy corner. Or maybe he was dead. Someone did catch her eye though, a bear of a man clad in beskar'gam bearing the Ordo clan sigil. A nods of thanks to the bartender and she collected her drink and made her way towards him.

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

The table crashed and he went for his old model ripper. The scene was one that he'd seen played out a hundred times. One party gets embarrassed by another and loses credits, then suddenly the other party cheated. Sometimes, they're right. Most of the time, theyre just stupid. His brother and he had a long history with the shade walker tribe of wookies, a time as close to a childhood as either had gotten, but this one had no markings, probably a mad claw too cowardly to die in the forest like he should have.

Ordo eased back into his seat and stuck the drink back to the combat straw on his buy'ce and decided it was none of his karking business. The sounds of an electrical charge running through a body and the thud of a lot of dead weight hitting the floor followed. The faint smell of singed hair leaked through his failing air intake filters and he knew the girl had lit the mad claw up like a life day parade. He'd be out for hours and be creditless long before then. His buy'ce was old, the once 360 degree hud was mor like a 180 now, but he could still feel eyes on him. His hand drifted down to his side while he continued to drink. If someone had an interest more than passing. He may have to kill his way out.

The hand on his drink stayed relaxed, but he could feel his heavy frame tense like a torsion spring ready to release into action. He looked out of the corner of his eye as the woman walked closer. She had definitely decided she hadn't had enough trouble for one day. Drink in hand she moved with the calm confidence of a person that knew exactly what they were capable of and fir a moment he was reminded of another place in time. Another pretty smile on a woman just as deadly as she was disarming and he shook the thought away before it could get him killed.

He stopped drinking as she got closer, pulled his ripper out slowly and sat it on the table in front of him then looked up to acknowledge her presence.

"Can I help you?" He said in a voice like a landslide through a speaker.


[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

The ripper settled on the table and Cory smiled beneath her helmet. It was a very clear 'don't mess with me' message. Settling her drink on his table she removed the batons from her hip and settled them down. She wasn't here for a fight.


"My uncle used to carry a ripper." She commented, taking the fact that he hadn't shot her yet as a sign that she wasn't overstepping boundaries just yet, she slid into the booth opposite him. "I'm not looking for trouble, just a drink with kin. It's been awhile since I've sat across from an Ordo." She offered a hand. "I'm Cory

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

His tension eased slightly as she began to speak. Her voice was oddly at ease her shoulders had no tension despite the situation she'd just left. He nodded slightly.

"Your uncle had good taste." He said calmly as he worked his jaw to avoid a more harsh response that, so far, she didn't deserve.

He wanted to tell her 'Great, now feth off.' But he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was young, capable, and not a moron. Beside that, he hadn't heard so much language spoke at him by another person in a long time.

"Jorso'ran." He replied his deep voice hesitant after not using his birth name years. "...nice...to meet you Cory."

Talking in anything other than commands and reports felt as awkward as it probably sounded but he had to relearn sometime...he guessed.


[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory snorted. “That’s debatable, Jas’per chose my mother for a sister and she murdered millions of mandalorians in one day. Still, he was a good man.” Her own combat straw descended and she took a sip of her drink, eyeing the stranger through her HUD, noting each dent and scratch on his armour. A mercenary maybe?

His introduction was almost stuttered and she cocked her head. Maybe he had a stutter...another sweep over the battle scarred armour. Or maybe he wasn’t used to casual conversation. “You been out of the world for a spell, Jorso’ran?”

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

'Was' that one simple word could say so much was dumbfounding. He had known it would happen one day. Someone would get lucky or the dumb bastard would simply make one mistake too many. But for some reason he had always thought he would be there to meet the runt in the Manda. He fought down a tangle of emotions he didn't have time or mental acuity to unravel right now and did his best to slip into a combat calm.

"There's alot in what you just said that makes as much sense as nipples on a breastplate, but to answer your question, I was ypunger than you are now when I left for the outer reach." He said as he used leaning down to drink as an excuse to take a moment to think.

How could he even begin to unpack the feth-ton of bombshell this not so random woman just dropped in his lap. He didn't even know how he could ask without zip ties and a sound proof room. And from the sound of it, this girl was family, after a fashion anyway.

"I...don't even know how to begin asking about what you just said." He started, "Was your mother a demigolka or something? Do the clans still follow the way?"

What the feth had he come back to. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory said nothing for a long moment, @Ordo’s question spoke volumes about how long he’d been away and with his head either very buried in the sand, or simply a long way away. She’d been on Nar Shadda when the news came, coming out of a drug induced stupor.


“Yes,” she said finally, “you could say my mother was a demigolka. As for the clans…” news reports replayed in her head, a sorrow falling over her. “Mandalore was conquered by the Sith Empire a few months back. “The clans are scattered...broken even. I…” she paused again. “I haven’t been home in fifteen years, and suddenly I’ve never wanted to more.”

Her own frankness caught her off guard, made her a little uncomfortable. She downed her drink.

 

[Ordo]

"I see." He wanted to scream and rage and mourn. But, there in the moment, he realized, he didn't have it in him. The years of constant war, hiding, guerilla strikes and living on a front apparently no one left alive knew about had seared it out of him. He blinked rapidly to try and muster a tear that the knot in his chest should have made easy but it didn't come.

"Jas'per, he died on his feet then?" He asked as he swirled his last drops of booze before motioning for more from a passing serve, "Fighting the Jetiise?"

He wanted to hear a yes. He needed to know that his family marched away to another front and would hold a spot for him on a new front in the manda. However, he had a bad feeling he wasn't going to like what he heard.

"If you know, that is...He was blood." He finished almost afraid to say it.

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

“I…” Cory swallowed hard, sitting back, slowly processing the last sentence. If Jas’per was blood, that would make this the first time in many years that she’d shared the same room, let alone conversation with family. “He…yes, he died on his feet, but not fighting the Sith.”

She looked down at the table, turning the empty glass slowly in her hand. “I’m sorry.” She added. Jas’per had been the closest thing to stable on the short list of people that she considered family. A good man, tangled in the mess of her mother. “How long have you been away, ori’vod?”

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

He felt an uncontrollable sigh of relief wash over him. He died fighting and he wouldn't have fought for something he didn't believe. That was good. That was the way. He leaned back and let the reality of his brother's death wash over him and he couldn't help but be grateful that his brother had died as his brother still.

His relief was so deep he hadn't known he could still feel anything so strongly. He almost missed her final question but in asking she told him almost as much as if he had asked directly. Things were bad, not just Bas'lan Shev'la bad, but Mandalorian Crusades bad. A shattered people, but where even one Vode remained they could return. That was why he was back. He had to follow his duty to return, rebuild, re-engage.

"Thirty cycles or so," He said almost absently as the echos of his unit's last stand rang through his head. "Time is hard to track or trust in the deep black...very hard."

He leanded his heavy forearms on the edge of the table and wrapped his huge handsas the new mug was sat infront of him. He had to find someone he could trust and regroup. He had to. For the fallen.

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

"You've missed a lot ori'vod. You missed the Desolation, the Civil War, the rise of a force hating Empire beneath a child Mand'alor and a foolish alliance with the Sith." She shook her head. "That barely covers ten cycles."


Cory couldn't begin to understand what he was going through. She reached a hand across to rest on his forearms. "I hate to break it to you, but if the Desolation didn't get them, the civil war did. Our..your clan signed up with the losing side. Those who aren't dead were scattered long before the Sith took over."

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

"Feth." He rumbled.

That was the only way he could think of to express that tangle of confused feelings he had roiling through his chest. He didn't know how to cope with this and he still had enough honor to not just start opening fire in the busy bar. He forced himself to hold still as he looked at her hand reach across and rest on his forearm plates. He reminded himself she was as close to family as he had left at the moment and tried to remember how he was supposed to handle the contact.

He lifted his hand and rested it on hers as she tried to comfort him fir some reason. It was a stiff forced feeling and he didn't know what she expected him to do.

"I'll need to contact someone from the old command and make a report. Sith make things complicated but if the clans backed a child war leader then it was probably passed time for a breaking. Pressure makes diamonds, ease makes decay." He started to just whisper his thoughts as they came. "I'll need supplies, we can buy or acquire transports. We have to go to ground, rebuild, keep our numbers low in the open and try to train new foundlings and children. It only takes one seed to grow a veshok tree."

He looked up and looked though the T of his visor and into hers. Then realized she had her own problems.

"I'm sorry...um...Ad'ika." He said unsure of what he should even call her, "Thanks for telling me the situation. And I'm glad I got to meet family again."

He could feel the tension slowly creeping up between his shoulder blades again.

"When my ship is repaired, you'd be welcome aboard anytime." He didn't know how else to express his gratitude other than offering to share food and shelter. What else did he have?


[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory found herself nodding slowly as he listed off the things that needed to be done. She stopped when he looked up, suddenly aware she was agreeing with him. She had no idea where this desire to do right by her people, to help rebuild was coming from. She'd spent half a lifetime making a point of staying away from all of it. Perhaps it was the deep nurtured hatred for the Sith that lay within her, or perhaps it was the fact that she was suddenly sitting across from family after so long alone.

She withdrew her hand, folding her own forearms on the tabletop and staring down at it. "Well, as of this moment, you are the only family I have. The rest are dead and gone, so whatever I can do to help, I will. Supplies, ships, i even know a vod or two floating around that would be willing to rebuild. I can't help you with old command, though, unless you know where they are, in which case i can give you a ride."

[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

He leaned back and shook his head. He had no idea where to even start. He would have to look through his list of last known contacts, but even those weremore than a decade old. He slowly reached for his ripper still sitting on the table and holstered it.

"It's fine, kid." He said resolved to simply do his duty and not let his family of 30 cycles die in vain. "I survived alone behind enemy lines for the last six years before I finally got a ship to fly, I'll be able to find someone or something to give me an idea of what to do next. If I can't find anything I'll just fight that battle when I get there."

He made to stand and felt a tingle run down his spine. It wasn't some special sense or force fethery. It was the timber of the voices in the room. It was no different than when a herd of boma sense a larger predator near by. The low life predators and prey sensed something bigger and badder nearby and he could almost hear their flight or fight instincts engage.

"We have trouble, Cory." He said as he slowly scanned the room, "Let's haul ass...now."

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory didn't move, instead she swung her gaze to the door to see who'd entered and felt a chill run up her spine and the sight of a group clad in identical red armour. "Sith troopers. Hauling ass sounds like a great idea." Getting to her feet, she left her drink where it was and started making her way across the room.

"Halt."

"Kark." she muttered, coming to a standstill and turning to face the trooper who now had her weapon trained on her.

"I need to see some papers." Cory cocked her head and said nothing. "Didn't you hear me, mando. Papers. Now."

"Pretty sure you have no jurisdiction here. Damn sure I'm not giving you anything, so, why don't we make this easy for everyone and you point that rifle somewhere else and I take my leave."

There was a ripple of clicks as other troopers raised their weapons at her, and @Ordo.

Cory sighed. "Ori'vod?" she cast a glance over her shoulder at her new found family. "What do you think?" her beskar batons slid into her hands as she spoke.

 

[Ordo]

The sounds of blasters arming was all it took. He was suddenly light years away, strange alien beings in sizes and shapes so varied you could never prepare to face them all without years of experience to aid you.
(Long spider like legs slammed down as they hid beneath an outcropping of rubble. Sweat ran down his face in a mirror of the hot rain that ran down his faceplate.

'It's now or never, Ordo.' Bet Rekali, his last friend, said, "Or did you plan to live forever?"

The world spun as he felt the hot jets of Bet's blood covering his own big hands as if it were six years ago. His big paws...they still weren't big enough to hold his friend or his people together.)

A deep growling sounded from a place inside him as he let his concussion rifle fall to the deck. His hands raised slowly as time around him seemed to slow. The world around him seemed sluggish as adrenaline and rage boiled up like toxic fumes of a tar pit. The feelings stretched the viscous membrane of his control and like all things stretched too thin, it snapped.

He came forward in a torrent of iron and flesh. The lead trooper's rifle ripped from her grasp, tilted down and rammed up into her throat in what seemed like one motion. He yanked her choking gagging self forward and down as his ripper found his hand and began to buck against his palm like a caught beast writhing for freedom.

The trooper to her immediate right fell screaming as the energy encased slug tore through his face. The next shot aimed down at the still sprawling leader and connected with a dull splatter at the base of her skull. They didn't give orders to Mandalorians, they asked to be killed.
[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory felt the shift in his soul, not that he’d been at the calmest when she’d told him his homeworld had been conquered and pretty much everyone he loved was dead. But this? This was something else, something deep set and animalistic. She didn’t have time to ponder it, or to worry about the implications of deep running scars.

Seconds had passed and three of them were down, shock rippling through the bar and then, in the best form of any seedy place, all hell broke loose. Cory shifted for the last two, her baton swinging with enough force to crack a helmet, downing one, the second was backing away, firing randomly at patrons who had joined the fray. He was calling for backup. Cory leapt the table he’d gotten around, and he trained the blaster on her opening fire.

The batons vibrated in her hands, the impact of the blaster bolts she batted aside jarring her arms, as she advanced, cracking the rifle away with one, while the other sought the soft flesh of his neck with a powerful shock that dropped him. She removed the troopers helmet, reaching inside it to pull the commlink free, she worked fast to isolate the frequency so she could hear it in her own.

Dropping both items she returned to Ordo. “Jor!” she shouted over the din, hand closing around his wrist before he could pummel a bystander. She was ready for whatever attack came her way. This was not her first rodeo with damaged souls. “[member="Ordo"]! We have to move.” A gentle tug towards the door. “Come. On!”

 

[Ordo]

He aimed his weapon at another body. His red rimmed eyes hiden by the emotionless visor that served as his face. A tug at his arm and the distant sound of his name being yelled, pulled him from his battle lust enough to turn his head and not squeeze the trigger.

"Lead!" He yelled back as he realized it wasn't Bet or Kait but Cory.

He followed half covering their retreat. He didn't know where she was leading but he did know that she knew a lot more about this place than he did.

"Watch the cross corridors." He said as they neared an intersection. It was like the fringe all over again.

[member="Connory Monroe"]

 

[Connory Monroe]

Cory swiped a blaster from a hip as she passed, wishing she hadn't left her bolters on the Liberator. Scraps on Point Defence weren't often so bloody. A fist fight here and there, maybe a few singed people from her batons, but this?. "The kark are the sith doing here?" she asked no one in particular, the chatter between the troopers rattling in her ear. She tucked into an alcove as they approached the intersection, pushing buttons on her forearm to connect with the Liberator.

"Activate defence systems. Plus one. Ordo, Jor'osan." There was a beep of acknowledgement, anyone who approached the ship or attempted to enter it that wasn't her or Jor would be annihilated by automated personnel turrets. Distant screams echoed down the corridor, far louder in the comm chatter than she’d like. “Sounds like they’re purging the station. Asking for papers, declaring them invalid and eliminating people. Karking sith, think they own everything.”

She took a breath to steady herself before ducking out of the alcove towards the intersection, only to backpeddle as another group rounded the corner. There was no request for papers this time, they simply opened fire. Cory rattled off a few shots before one caught her in the shoulder dropping her to the deck, the smell of burnt flesh was almost suffocating.

“Gorramit.” she rolled to the side and crawled back to the alcove.

[member="Ordo"]