Veins of Ice

[Tamara Wren]

'The Spirit of Fire'
Alor-class Dreadnought
Echoy'la


She had spoken to [member="Irella Vizsla"]. But there were points of view that Tamara needed beyond that. Her father? Yes. She could absolutely talk to him about it. All of it. The problem was that she didn't really want to.... and she knew what he would say.

At least, she thought she did.

Tamara had been hoping to talk to [member="Koda Fett"] since the Ball. Even before she'd had [member="Julian Imani"]'s card so unceremoniously dumped on her, leading her down a path she hadn't believed would have been possible. A chance to fix what was wrong with her.

Amoung other things.

She thought it was worth it- would be. But there was doubt. A hesitation. A chance of things going wronger than they already were. She wasn't naive to the risk what they were doing held. But could she find a way to live a life.... with that piece of herself missing? Left behind in the Netherworld, everything grey and joyless. There was one person she knew even more stoic, even more even keeled than anyone else.

She hadn't spoken to him much, but he was around. Never sure exactly when or for how long, but eventually, he'd show back up again. He always did.

The next time he appeared on the ship that was the heart of the Net'ra fleet, Tamara was ready. A knock sounded on the door of the room that he called his when he was there. Outside of it, Tamara fidgeted.

"Uh, Koda?" She called through the door, when there wasn't an answer right away. "It's Tam.... Can.... can I talk to you? It's important."

 

[Koda Fett]

The Bounty Hunter had endured a difficult past few weeks, if not month. There had been all that demanding, the weight of so much more than he had ever prepared for dumped onto his shoulders, and it was something he never wanted- never asked for. Fett was a Bounty Hunter, and it's that in which he preferred to stay. But, with Preliat ranting and raving about the change he can cause as leader, and Ronan -- Tam's Father -- offering introspective mockery, he had been irritated, to say the least. Despite all his stubbornness Koda began to think as to how much of the 'nonsense' that they spoke was true.

He left the Mandalorians, as a people and a culture, an identity- but they never truly left him. There was always one calling for him back, but Fett only ever associated himself through business. He was no more Mandalorian than the chair in which he sat on. Callous eyes surveyed a screen, the listings of recent bounties displayed so casually as if it were for mere shopping. His head had rolled over his shoulder at the knocking of the door, although it seemed to be ignored until a voice came through.

Tamara? Right, yes. Ronan's daughter. Suppose she earned the right to ask whatever it was, if not out of respect for her Father that he typically found himself bickering with. Koda and Ronan, whilst allies (maybe friends), argued similarly to an old, married couple. Always at odds. The helmet that rest nearby, within arms reach, had been placed back over his head. Self-conscious about some scars, maybe? It was anyone's guess, but it hardly mattered.

​"Sure." He replied, his voice synthesised by the internal microphone in the slightest of ways. His chair rotating to the face the door, resting lazily within it.

[member="Tamara Wren"]

 

[Tamara Wren]

She shifted from one foot to the other. Maybe he wasn't actually in his room right then. Should she wait? Should she look around the ship for him? Should-

When he voice finally sounded, she paused, then reached out, palming the door open. Stepping inside, she stopped right in the doorway. Koda was one of the only people she knew who always, no matter what, seemed to be in his armor. She didn't think she'd ever seen his face- or knew anyone else who had. Maybe her dad, but that was a weird question to ask wasn't it?

"Hey," she said, then paused.

Unsurprisingly, Tamara wasn't a huge talker. Oh, more than her dad, by any margin. But when someone content to spend days in silence raises a child, some of that by its very nature rubs off. Some people were easier to talk to than others. [member="Irella Vizsla"] had been. [member="Julian Imani"] too. Koda....

If there was anyone LESS prone to casual chit chat than [member="Ronan Vizsla"], it was [member="Koda Fett"].

With the mask on, it didn't help either. She couldn't read anything in his face or his stance. He was just... sitting there. Still. It felt like talking to a statue and she realized, rather belatedly, that perhaps he did that on purpose to discourage people from doing exactly what she was trying to do.

"I need some advice," she finally said, opting for straight to the point. "I..... hrm." Words. How to put it?

"I want to know how you do it," she said bluntly. "How you don't seem to care about anything. How? Nothing touches you."

She had spent the last six months, struggling with knowing she should feel more than she did but not. He seemed to not even struggle with the idea of it. It simply was. The last few days, she'd been offered the chance to fix it. To go back. But at a price and with possible complications that no one could be sure of in advance. If she could find a way to find peace with it, would that be better? She just didn't know.

 

[Koda Fett]

There was always something that someone cared for. Nobody could truly escape the vices of affections, of attachment, or even the slightest hint of compassion. Fett, of course, was no exception. He had simply cared in a different time for those that had no longer existed- lost to annals of time. He lead a life in isolation, and even back when they had been of relevance the bounty hunter was distant; only made more so by his dedication to another man's creed. It might be that in which 'ruined' him, created Fett, removing a sliver of humanity. He was a potentially sympathetic character, capable of having pity felt for him, but surely there were all too many that believed that the monstrous bounty hunter had only gotten what he deserved for causing all that pain. And for what? A quick coin.

​His response came, but it was slow, he fell quiet in pondering thought as if he truly had wisdom to bestow. Did he? Unlikely, but he was sure to offer Tamara something rather than empty words and a contempt filled glare. "You don't want that." Fett replied, "You have Family." The Mandalorian remained as still as ever within his chair, as if he was a statue, yes. "You don't want to replicate me."

[member="Tamara Wren"]

 

[Tamara Wren]

She had been waiting for something. A way to cut it all out, to not care about not caring. Something gritty maybe, something hard.

Instead she got..... that.

His answer surprised her and it showed on her face. Blinking at him for a moment before coming further into the room. She grabbed another chair, not really thinking about it, and pulled it up and drop down onto.

"Well I mean, so could you," she pointed out. "Clan Vizsla's door is open to anyone who wants it. And my dad likes you."

That wasn't entirely true. But it was close enough to true in this case.

"And what do you mean I don't want to? You are hard. Uncompromising. Cold. If I could do that..... everything would be easier."

Oh, Tam was hideously wrong there, but that was how it often felt. Not always. There were moments where she could almost feel a glimmer of what she was missing since her death. Her thoughts skipped to [member="Julian Imani"] and her cheeks got a little red before she pushed that aside and refocused.

"That sounds pretty ideal to me," she muttered, dropping her elbows to her knees, chin settling into her hands.

[member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Koda Fett]

"It isn't something you can pretend to be." The Mandalorian had spoken, rising from his seat in an attempt to move throughout the room. Perhaps fiddle with an object here and there, buying his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments. "I walked my path, as has your Father. It's the road that shaped us, made us who we are." Fett turned, facing Tamara with his back propped against the wall. His T-VIsor briefly darting in the direction of the Jetpack he so often wore, resting in the corner. "There's nothing artificial in that, Tamara."

He was right, or so he thought. Koda had never been the same man he was the day before, and it always changed with each expectation, each demand, and each action. It might be unbelievable, or simply strange, but Koda Fett had once been truly human; none of this broken, sadistic, permanently angered mess of a man that he is today. Perhaps his snide comments are the only truthfully human thing about him.

​So conflicted with his own identity he barely knew who he was himself.

[member="Tamara Wren"]

 

[Tamara Wren]

She blinked. She wasn't sure what answer she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. That was far more candid.... far more human than she had been expecting.

The young woman sat up again, frowning slightly. That expression was far too typical on her face these days. Abnormal for who she was.... but not for who she had become after she'd been brought back.

"I don't think it's artificial," she said finally. "But you've made your peace with it.... haven't you?"

Her head tipped slightly to the side. It wasn't that she wanted, perse, to be like them. It was that she had lost the things she did want. And now she wanted to know if she would ever be okay with that. If the risks involving the plans she had made with [member="Julian Imani"] were with the potential of it.

"You are.... okay. With who are you."

It wasn't really a question, but it wasn't as certain as it had been as an assumption as when she had stepped into the room. The whole reasons she was here was because she had thought he was, that he must be.

But if even someone like [member="Koda Fett"] had regrets about what they had become.... could she ever settle for this, if she had a choice in the matter?

 

[Koda Fett]

He barely knew, but he always thought he did.

This Bounty Hunter had kept himself silent for a moment, but that was nothing new. It was as if he had fallen into thought, truthfully having to consider his answer to such a question, even statement. "Yes." He inevitably replied, his gaze hadn't wavered in the slightest throughout his moment of deliberation. Koda had such an obsession with proving a man-- so long gone --proud, proud of someone he had never known, but one that merely shared his face. Fett believed himself Jango's pseudo son. It was for that reason he so desired to become that of a Bounty Hunter, to wear the armour of a Mandalorian, and ultimately becoming one himself. He was soon to take on a responsibility he never deemed possible, but this Galaxy had certainly proven so vastly unpredictable.

There had been a switch that flickered within Fett's mind, and he took it upon himself to ask the question that so desperately needed to be asked. "Are you?" His tone was bland, as per usual. Tamara had come for assistance, and he wasn't able to provide it- least not now. This young woman had never had the greatest of parental figures, or so Fett would assume with Vizsla as her Father. That man was a rabid dog, he could not be contained and his anger was bloodlust was insatiable. She needed this.

[member="Tamara Wren"]

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tamara didn't answer right away. Dark eyes went down to her hands, breathing in deeply and letting it out in a long, slow breath.

"I wish I could be."

That was why she was here. To see if he had a secret to that. Apparently the answer to that was a resounding 'no.' Because she was not okay with not caring. It wasn't a strong feeling- and that was the problem. She'd gotten a taste again of what that was like. To care about something, to want something. And then feeling it fade back into the grey because she couldn't maintain the emotions on her own. Not without the missing piece.

If she could make peace with not caring, not feeling, wouldn't that be better? She knew she was useful to the clan, to her father. She had a place, a purpose. Couldn't that be enough?

Except... it wasn't.

She needed to know if there was a way to come to terms with it. Because then would the risks involved with what she was embarking on be worth it? Maybe not. But if it was take those risks or else exist in the nothing forever and know exactly what she had lost.... to feel in short moments of living the way she used to. To see it all again in colour, vibrant and vivid, only to watch it fade again each time.

Tamara didn't think she could bear it.

It wasn't the answer she had hoped for. But it was an answer.

"Thank you," she said quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. "That helps."

[member="Koda Fett"]