The Journey Home

[Connory Monroe]

“...reports coming in from the United Clans home planet Mandalore, The Sith Empire have launched a full scale invasion catching the Mandalrians unaware, we are unable to give full reports but it seems that the Empire has also targeted Concord Dawn and have begun orbital bombardment of the two Strongholds…”

The news reports voice fell on deaf ears, the glow of the holovid lighting up a dingy apartment littered with bottles, scraps of takeout food, clothes and pieces of armour. It illuminated a dishevelled looking Cory, dirty blonde hair greasy and askew, food stains on her clothes and make up smudged beyond recognition.

BZZZZZZT


BZZZZZZZZT


Cory jolted awake, knocking empty vials of ixetal cilona to the floor, sight blurred by bright unnatural colours, she scrambled frantically at the desk in front of her till her hand found the buzzing comlink.

“What?”

“Yo! Cory my girl, you always greet me wif such enthusiasm.”

She groaned and rubbed her face, of course if would be Zak. “You seen da news, petal?” She lifted her gaze to the holovid playing in front of her, recognising imperial ships...a fleet of magnitude and the familiar blue green sphere they were advancing on.

Mandalore was familiar only because she spent many hours gazing at pictures of ir, wondering if she should go home. “Call me petal one more time and i’m going to feed you the business end of my bolter. What do you want Zak?”

“Easy. easy! I jus’ wan’ed to check up, make sure you din’t kill yourself. That was strong stuff, eh. Consider your firs’ batch on me, as condolences for the annihilation of your homeworld, Sistren”

Cory’s mouth had gone dry, her throat tightened. She could see her mother in her minds eye, tall slender and dark haired, regarding her intensely. “What is the Resol’nare, adika? Recite it for me.”

Cory shook her head, willing the woman to vanish from her mind. “Thank’s Zak, I appreciate the gesture, but Mandalore isn’t my home. I’ll wire you the money before the days out.” she clicked the comlink off, silencing any reply he may have had. Sinking back in her chair she silenced the news reporter and simply watched.

“Cory.” she closed her eyes trying to drown it out. “Cory, i asked you a question.”

It was no good, she stood up, legs unsteady beneath her feet, turning towards the dining table of table of the tiny apartment. Four year old Cory stared back at her.

“Ba’jur bal beskar’gam,”

Cory stumbled forward, pushing through the mirage, “Shut up.” Slightly numb fingers sought purchase on a yellow vial, pulling the stopper off with her teeth, she made the mistake of looking up.

“Ara’nov, aliit,”

Her mother stood in front of her, reciting the words with her, eyes shining with pride. Cory made a point of staring at her, while she emptied the vial into a tumbler. The image faded and she hesitated. “You made sure I would never have an aliit again, buir.”

She added water to the glass and picked it up, turning back to her desk.

Rel Connory stood in front of her, a slight smile on his face though concern was hidden in his gaze. Concern for his wife’s well being, for his daughter’s future.

“Mando’a bal Mand’alor, an vencuyan mhi.”

“Buir… I…” The glass slipped from her fingertips, shards of glass skittered in all directions, the noise shattering the image. Cory clutched the table for support as grief welled up inside her. Not for the planet she’d never called home, but for the family she’d never been able to have, for the memories that could have been made.

 

[Connory Monroe]

It was late in the afternoon before she’d managed to regain control of herself. She showered, washing away her disgust at herself and rinsing the salt from her face, allowing the hot water to carry all her misery away with it, down the drain and deep into Nar Shadda’s sewers. She dressed in from fitting pants and an equally close fit top, both designed to go under her armour.

When she emerged from the bathroom she allowed herself to glance around the dingy apartment, seeing it for what it truly was, which was out simply, disgusting. She came for Nar Shadda for two reason’s only, to collect on her bounties and to drive a greater wedge between herself and the force. She would never become her mother. She moved to the curtains, wrenching them open and began to clean.

One day she’d pluck up the courage to find someone to sever her from it completely, but for now, death sticks and colourful vials were her only way. She’d hit it hard this time around, partially because her nightmares were getting worse, partially because she had lost herself in the moment of the hunt and had used the force to grant a particularly vile target an equally vile end, impaled on spikes. No matter how hard she tried, she always reached for it. Muscle memory served her well enough when fighting but in the heat of the moment, when there was nothing but her and the fight, the force found her...guided her actions.

It was its own drug, and just as dangerous as that which she packed neatly into a black case. She’d watched it destroy her mother, break her father and turn her whole world on its head. She picked up the scattered pieces of her armour and began the methodical process of affixing it to herself. Some of it had been her father’s, some her mother’s and some was crafted just for her. All of it was painted gold and black, vengeance and justice, if you read into such things.

Good colours for a bounty hunter and that was as much as Cory read into it. She sealed her back back, collected her bolters, slotting them neatly into holsters at her hip then through the back pack over her shoulder. Helmet in one had and case in the other she left the apartment, navigating piles of rubbish and avoiding becoming a part of a fight and picked her way down the stairs. The turbolift had been out of order from the day she bought the tiny place. It was in essence a drug den, that was its sole purpose so it hadn’t mattered that the building was full of glit-biters, theives and murderers. None of them were stupid enough to get in her way, credit she gave entirely to the stigma associated with the armour she wore.

The street was damp with recent rain, a smell she would have enjoyed on any other planet, but here it just added to the stench of rot. Glancing up and down she made for the nearest docks, where her ship rested.