Private Where Is She

[Kranak Vizsla]

Space, Aboard The Pammant Sundown
Equipment: In Bio.
Tags: Xyoz Maji

Through The Canopy​

Infiltrating the Pammant Sundown via low gravity infiltration maneuver when it made a scheduled stop during its voyage by a space station proved to be unchallenging. He had masterfully snuck past the crew, the patrolling guards in groups of two, and the occasional guest wandering the halls and the Lounge of the luxurious spacecraft with the help of his cloaking device while making his way towards his target room; the ship’s Private Suite, belonging to the owner of this stupidly expensive vessel.

Standing cloaked before the locked door in the hallway, undetected by scanners, sensors and unseen to the eye, the giant reached for his slicing gear from his chest rig over his chest plate to slice the door. Tampering with the console for a moment with his slicing gear, the door would grant him passage with a gentle hiss, retracting to their housing on the ceiling and on the floor, allowing the Mandalorian intruder access; the laser security alarm and other similar countermeasures against intruders deactivated for his convenience.

The door closed behind him as he walked in soon after; a series of gentle metallic clicks resounded softly as its locking mechanism engaged once more, with the laser security alarm and other countermeasures appearing falsely turned on over the keypad’s screen outside. A mere precaution he did not miss in order to avoid raising any suspicions from his target, or a guard patrol passing by his target’s quarters.

The room, as he expected, looked no less expensive than the rest of the ship. In fact, it was lavish far more than the rooms of the ship’s patrons. Paintings, works of art and trophies, expensive rugs and master crafted furniture alike, tastefully decorated the room. Some of the paintings and works of art looked like they were straight from a museum.

Although he detested the idea, he understood the point of displaying one’s own wealth. “What’s the point if you can’t show it?” was the logic behind it. To him, credits were just another tool, a means to an end. Hoarding untold amounts of it, swimming in its over abundance was something he despised.

Uncaring of the expensive sight before him, the giant began to methodically search every room with his particle pistol drawn forth in the Private Suite; moving silent as a shadow in the Scoundrel’s quarters, he checked them for the slim possibility of a contact he would not have unaccounted for during the planning phase of this solo mission. It wasn’t his style to leave anything to chance. Aware of the inherent heightened senses of his target, one of the traits of the Shistavanen species, the Vizsla had even masked his scent to avoid detection by the target’s sharp sense of smell.

Walking out of the bedroom, the last room he checked and cleared, the giant was pleased to find no unaccounted surprises waiting for him inside. There wasn't a soul in the Suite aside from him. Content, the Mandalorian went back to the closed and locked entryway to the Private Suite, and took up positions to the side of the door by a wall.

Now, the waiting game had begun.

The Vizsla raised the particle blaster pistol - set for stun - and kept it at a high-ready stance as he crouched in order to save, and slowly recharge battery power of his personal cloaking device while he waited for his target to return to his quarters. On his guard, the giant kept his ear to the ground; he would be listening for any footsteps approaching the door as he lay in wait for his target. When the Shistavanen returned to his quarters, the giant would wait until the door closed behind him before executing his ambush; leveling the particle blaster pistol at him, he would gently squeeze back the trigger with hopes of knocking the target unconscious with one shot.

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

Owning a luxury liner was more hard work than Xyoz wanted to deal with. Too many small issues to figure out. Where's the booze for the guests. Where's the spice. Why is the spice gone. Who took all the spice. When can he get more spice. Always problems with spice. And booze but mostly spice. It was exhausting. He still didn't understand why people were so obsessed with his giggle dust.

Then again, drugs didn't work on him so he didn't even understand what it meant to be high.

With an exhausted sigh he wandered back into the literal lap of luxury. When did life get so hard? He grumbled to himself, loosening the tie he'd actually put on. He was in a suit of all things. Ugh. Why'd getting rich have to be complicated? The door slid shut behind him just as he noticed a smell. Beskar? He glanced over his shoulder, a smile pulling at his lips.

Yeah, he knew this person. No way he'd forget that armor.

"Oh he-"

He hit the ground, out cold, once the stun round hit him.

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

Roughly twenty minutes had passed after his infiltration into the ship and the room. He bided his time as he waited for the Scoundrel to return to his luxurious quarters aboard the ship. Cloaked, crouched and his blaster pistol held at the ready, the giant listened to the footsteps of the occasional guard patrol passing by as they roamed the halls of the ship. Like clockwork, two pairs of footsteps would pass by the door every five minutes. The last patrol had passed by roughly a minute ago.

It was around then when the giant heard a set of footsteps walking down the hall; the steps grew louder and louder with each passing second.

It was out of the ordinary, it could not have been one of the guards, the giant assumed.

It had to be him, then.

His assessment would prove to be true, as the footsteps came to a momentary halt before the door. He could hear the faint beeping of the keypad outside, as the Shistavanen entered his code. The door slid open soon after, with the Scoundrel taking a step inside.

This was it, the moment of truth.

The giant wasted no time in training the weapon towards the target as the door slid shut behind him.

"Oh he-"

As the giant's mark looked at him from over his shoulder a moment after the door close shut, the Mandalorian denied him any further speech for the time being as he squeezed the silenced particle pistol’s trigger; raised to the fore towards him the moment he had entered the room, it took him less than a second to get an accurate target acquisition on the Scoundrel before squeezing the trigger.

The blaster set to stun, the round left the silenced pistol in a low pitched whistle. Knocked unconscious by the stun round, he watched the man fall face forward onto the carpeted floor. A muffled thud briefly echoed in the room.

Squandering not a moment, his cloaked shimmered and rippled ever so slightly as the giant stood up from his crouched position by the door, and walked over to his target. Even now, the Scoundrel was showing signs of regaining his consciousness.

He could not allow that to happen. Not yet, not when his hands were not binded at least.

Gently tossing the particle pistol vertically into the air, the giant catched the weapon with his right hand not a moment after, firmly grasping it over its barrel. Crouching beside the half conscious Shistavanen, the Vizsla brought down the weapon’s grip on the man’s left temporal side in one swift motion with all his strength behind the blow; the sickening crack of his temporal bone breaking under the stern blow reached his ears.

Dealing such a blow to a lesser being that lacked the Scoundrel’s regeneration capabilities, would have been thoroughly fatal, but for him, it only served to keep him knocked out, just for a few minutes at best.

The giant knew he could take it as if it was nothing. He had seen him regenerate from an injury far worse on Tatooine.

Making sure the Scoundrel did not wake up so swiftly after the stun round, the giant firmly grasped him by the collar of his suit, and dragged him effortlessly towards the table in the dining room, bolted down to the floor. Reaching for a pair of Mandalorian Manacles from one his pouches on his warbelt, the Mandalorian momentarily holstered his blaster pistol and sat the Scoundrel up right on the floor first, then cuffed his hands behind his back, and over one of the table legs bolted down.

Standing up with a muffled sigh, the giant dusted off his hands, pleased with his handy work. Turning off his cloak, the giant nonchalantly drew one of the chairs by the table and set it down two feet or so across the binded, unconscious man. Sitting down on the chair, facing towards him, the giant drew forth the silenced particle blaster from his right holster over his kama. Flicking its selector switch with his thumb, he set the weapon to ‘LETHAL’ from ‘STUN’.

The giant was aware of the Shistavanen capabilities, but aware more-so of the fact that in every encounter he had of him thus far, he always managed to pull a trick up his sleeve he hadn’t witnessed from him before. Who knows, maybe the manacles he had binded him with would be of little use to keep him binded.

In any case, he prepared himself for a fight as he waited for him to regain his consciousness; keeping the silenced particle pistol aimed at him, at his cranium in particular.

<”Someone has been doing pretty good for themselves,”> the giant would say in his usual stern tone once the man regained his consciousness, as he eyed him from head to toe behind his glowing visor. It was quite the expensive suit, the one Scoundrel wore. The tie went along with it nicely, as well.

The man had developed a good taste in fashion, it seemed.

<”Business is thriving, I would assume?”>

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

Waking up in a pair of cuffs wasn't anything new. A groan escaped the Shistavanen as he groggily opened his eyes. His head throbbed in pain. Well, for like a couple more seconds and that, like all pain he felt, disappeared. His glowing eyes fluttered as he looked around. He was still in his room at least. Who.. Oh. His eyes settled pretty quickly on the man before him. The armor specifically.

Right.

"Business is pretty great, not gonna lie. Annoying, but great." He tensed his hands. Testing the limits of the shackles around them. Nope, no way he was going to break those, even as strong as he was. He frowned, glancing back behind him just to see. "Y'know, Mandalorians got weird kinks. Shai's done this a couple times. No kink shame course. Just uh, she'll get pissed if she finds out."

Whatever the Mando giant had come for, he doubted it was a lighthearted conversation. So yeah, Xyoz was playing up the comedy of it all. But the grin and the half assed jokes never reached his eyes. All he had was a sharp glare for the man. Filled to the brim with contempt. Anger. Annoyance.

"The kark you want, Mando. I ain't dealin' in Enclave space and I doubt you'd hold me here if it was anythin' about the spice. So spill. I got places to be."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

"Business is pretty great, not gonna lie. Annoying, but great." He tensed his hands. Testing the limits of the shackles around them.

A faint grin emerged from the giant’s otherwise scarred and stern features from underneath his faceplate, in response to Shistavanen’s answer. From a pirate that could not tell from port and starboard side of a ship to a wealthy, prospering crime lord. He really was doing good for himself; not that the giant harbored any admiration for him. The more wealth a crime lord gained, the more dangerous they’d become; and greedy. Although he refrained from operating in Enclave space for the time being, that could very well change overnight, and could become a problem for them.

But a pre-emptive strike towards him and his operations at the mere possibility he could decide to extend his operations into their space was not why he was here.

Not for today, at least.

<”No sudden moves,”> the giant warned the Shistavanen as he tested the Manacles he was binded with. Aware of his strength, it would be difficult to remain undetected from his guards during a fight that would undoubtedly shake the ship to her foundations.

"Y'know, Mandalorians got weird kinks. Shai's done this a couple times. No kink shame course. Just uh, she'll get pissed if she finds out."

Whatever the Mando giant had come for, he doubted it was a lighthearted conversation. So yeah, Xyoz was playing up the comedy of it all. But the grin and the half assed jokes never reached his eyes. All he had was a sharp glare for the man. Filled to the brim with contempt. Anger. Annoyance.

"The kark you want, Mando. I ain't dealin' in Enclave space and I doubt you'd hold me here if it was anythin' about the spice. So spill. I got places to be."​

A brief, synthesized chuckle escaped the giant’s helmet annunciator in response to the Scoundrel’s quip. He shook his head slowly in wordless response as the man’s penetrating gaze stared up at his captor. Although he joked with a grin, the fiery anger and hate in the Shistavanen eyes betrayed the seemingly light hearted jokes and sentiment. The contempt behind the Shistavanen’s glare was understandable. The giant did not hold that against him. He was intruding on his property, and was keeping him at gunpoint, after all. Anyone in the same situation would share his resentment.

<”Well… you will be briefly off schedule, I’m afraid.”> The giant said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he leaned back on the chair; the particle pistol wavered off and away from the Shistavanen’s brow for not a moment. Although he was here to learn of the fate his comrade shared, if his “chat” with him meant that he could prevent him from ruling this criminal empire of his during that time, then that was worth something, whether it meant little in the grand scale of things.

Although he expected snark from the Scoundrel, he had assumed he knew why, or for who he was here for.

Maybe he hit him in the head a bit too hard.

<”I will cut to the chase,”> He leaned forward, the glowing white visor drew closer to the Shistavanen’s visage as he remained seated on the chair. <”Where, is she?”> The Vizsla snarled, as the giant stared him down with an angered glare of his own. His helmet’s holo-recording of the last moments in their confrontation played in his mind. He had torn off her limbs, one by one, in a blood frenzy; then carried her away, who knows where.

Was she dead? Was she alive? If she was alive, where was she?

He knew for a fact that his comrade was tough as nails, and could take a beating, but blood loss to that extent, major trauma put aside, was no joke.

<”What, have you done to my friend?”>

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

"No sudden moves or.. You'll shoot me? You and I both know that amounts to chit as a threat. But hey, you seem upset." Though, not as much as Xyoz was. He never cared about the money, the ship, the spice. It was all a hobby at this point. Something to spend time on while he waited for Shai. To make a life for himself so it all didn't revolve solely around her. Not because he wanted something more with it.

Just because he didn't want to annoy her.

Xyoz didn't have the whole story. He didn't know what happened between Kranak and Shai. Didn't know what exactly she went through. What he did know?

There was a grotesque sound of flesh tearing behind the Shistavanen. He couldn't break the cuffs, but he didn't need to to get his hands free. Not when he could just use the cuffs to tear them off and let them regrow. He knew why Kranak was here. He hoped she wasn't why, but he knew.

"She is safe. And I sure as chit ain't gonna let you fuck her up again. You wanna throw hands cause of it? Sure, feel fuckin' free. But you don't come to my fuckin' house to try and kidnap me. I got a lot of fuckin' patience, and you're already pushin' it."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

"No sudden moves or.. You'll shoot me? You and I both know that amounts to chit as a threat. But hey, you seem upset."

The word ‘upset’ didn’t even begin to describe just how he felt.

Staying frosty, uncaring of the level of snark and retort he had expected to face when dealing with Xyoz, the giant did not respond so quickly to the seeming futility of his warning earlier. True, he had the ability to heal from even the most gruesome of wounds and ailments alike, thanks to his Sangnir heritage; an ability that could be considered quite rare, and precious. Imitable via the use of technology, but would not be as efficient as the Shistavanen’s.

<”I assumed getting shot over being set aflame to be a much more preferable alternative for your kind,”> The giant retorted coldly in response, as he gestured at the wrist mounted flame projector on his left vambrace by extending his cybernetic left arm to the side for the Shistavanen to get eyes on it better. <”But if you preferred the latter over the former so much, then, I could quickly arrange that for you.”> He lowered his hand back to his lap afterwards.

The grotesque snapping and tearing of flesh and skin reached his ears soon after. The Scoundrel had tried and tested the manacles first, but realizing even he lacked the strength to break free from his binds, he resorted to a different, and a highly unorthodox technique of escape instead.

He could grow to respect his stubbornness.

The giant’s head slightly tilted to the side. <”Now you’re just pushing it,”> He placed his finger trigger onto the hair trigger of the particle pistol, sliding it from down onto it from the trigger guard. If he persisted, he would have no choice but to blast him, and wait for him to regenerate from a cranial injury before they could continue this again.

"She is safe."

<”She’s alive?”> The giant said, the revelation of her situation had him lower the particle pistol, but only ever so slightly; a hint of relief and surprise was evident in his voice. A smile appeared in the man’s features, hidden underneath his helmet faceplate. He thought she had died, and that the man sitting binded in front of him had killed her by ripping her to shreds, denying her the chance of redemption! As brutal as the confrontation had been, she had survived! That was a bit of good news.

But was she well? Where was she now?

His smile would fade away, leaving its place back to a sharp, hateful scowl the more the Shistavanen spoke, continuing.

"And I sure as chit ain't gonna let you fuck her up again. You wanna throw hands cause of it? Sure, feel fuckin' free. But you don't come to my fuckin' house to try and kidnap me. I got a lot of fuckin' patience, and you're already pushin' it."

Kark her up? Did he… assume he had set out to kill her? Pondering on the way he had asked his inquiry, and the tone in which he did so, that seemed very much possible; but no. He had a binding duty of a friend, of a brother-in-arms, that he had failed when she fell into the hands of those who turned her against them. He had set out to find her and help her back on the path to salvation, fulfill his binding duty, and be at her side like a friend was supposed to be in situations such as this.

But the Scoundrel didn’t know.

<”Just as what I sought that day on that damnable rock, I do not seek her death,”> The giant clarified his intentions, going off of the assumption that Xyoz had assumed he intended to put an end to her.

And although he hoped that things did not escalate to the point where the situation warranted to extract the Scoundrel along with him, for further questioning, he was not here to kidnap him, either. He just wanted to know of her status, if she was doing okay, and where she was.

Although as much as he was getting to the Scoundrel’s nerves, the same could have been said for the giant as well; he did not have all day. He had a time table he needed to abide by for extraction. He could not risk taking too long with this interrogation of a chat; faced with such circumstances, he could not afford to be overly patient with the Scoundrel. He himself was nearing the end of his own fuse.

<”I will ask you nicely; one, last, time,”> The giant snarled as he stood up from the chair, towering over the tied down Shistavanen sat on the floor before him; the silencer of the particle pistol was held just a few inches away from Xyoz’ visage, as the hand that held the pistol extended down towards him. <”Where, is she?”>

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

"Try it, fuckface. And I'll roast you inside that armor you got. Mandalorian's are tough to chew, but I can make an exception again." Casually admitting that he had, in fact, eaten some Mandalorians in his time. He had, absolutely. Dozens, hundreds probably. As a Sith Lord of the Empire, there were few he hadn't eaten in his mindless hunger. Shai was the one who changed that. Shai was the one who saw the monster he was and decided he could be something more.

Sure, crime lord wasn't exactly something more to most folks. But she helped him be able to make that kind of choice.

"You fuckin' Mandalorians are all the same, y'know. You don't seek death, but that's all you fuckin' bring. I can smell it on you, too. You lost somethin' in that fight. Your arm, right? Makin' you more machine. Just like she was. You fucks took everythin' from her and she still loved you all as family. But you weren't even willin' to stop her at her worst, were ya? You didn't want to kill her. What kinda bullshit is that! She was killing you! Your brothers and sisters laid dead at her feet! Do you know what that does to a person? She couldn't stop herself and you were unwillin' to stop her so I fuckin' did! I ripped everything out. Everything she could use to kill another of you fucks because she loves all of you."

It wasn't often he rambled. Hell, Xyoz wasn't even sure if what he was saying made any sense, but seeing the masked figure before her demanding to know where Shai was after everything that happened was just too much for him to stay calm about.

"You wanna know where she is? She's where she fuckin' wants to be. And if she wants you to find her, she'll let ya. So till then shut the fuck up and you got too close."

He moved. The tearing of flesh from before ripped through the room as he full on ripped his hand free of the handcuffs. The gun pointed at his head didn't matter. He could take a headshot. They both knew it. Thing was, even if his head was gone and he couldn't move his body on his own, momentum was a thing. He tackled forward, throwing all his weight and inhuman might behind it to tackle the giant to the ground, headless or not.

No, this time he wasn't going to hold back for Shai's sake. He was pissed.

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

"Try it, fuckface. And I'll roast you inside that armor you got. Mandalorian's are tough to chew, but I can make an exception again."

The giant’s rageful glare behind his glowing helmet visor wavered not away from the Shistavanen’s pair of orange pupils; they glew with a burning hatred as he looked up at the Mandalorian. His eyes squinted at the mention, at the hint of consuming Mandalorians before.

He cared not of the threat, or rather, the promise the Shistavanen had thrown at him. He was more bothered by the fact that he did not let the dead rest, over the fact that he had fought and killed his kin. They were Mandalorians, for Manda’s sake. Their craft was war and death. Death in combat was the highest attainable honor, and the remembrance of their deeds, their sagas after they had begun the long march, was something they all looked up for. The deaths of the giant’s kin at the hands of the Scoundrel, although he resented him greatly for it now, he could not hold it against him for too long; he presumed the ones he had killed were fallen in combat. Kill or be killed; it was all fair game.

But feasting on the dead? Like vultures over carrion? That, was utterly disrespectful to the fallen in question, at the very least.

It was desecration. Vile desecration. Heresy!

"You fuckin' Mandalorians are all the same, y'know. You don't seek death, but that's all you fuckin' bring. I can smell it on you, too. You lost somethin' in that fight. Your arm, right? Makin' you more machine. Just like she was. You fucks took everythin' from her and she still loved you all as family. But you weren't even willin' to stop her at her worst, were ya? You didn't want to kill her. What kinda bullshit is that! She was killing you! Your brothers and sisters laid dead at her feet! Do you know what that does to a person? She couldn't stop herself and you were unwillin' to stop her so I fuckin' did! I ripped everything out. Everything she could use to kill another of you fucks because she loves all of you."

Despite the furious storm of hate, anger and resentment growing ever violent within him, the giant appeared calm in his demeanor from the outside at Xyoz’s words. Some of what he had said even had gotten to him, despite his growing anger and hatred, though it did little to soothe that, at all.

There was a reason he had held back against the Wardog. The memories of nearly two decades had flashed before his eyes. Sharing a foxhole together, fighting shoulder to shoulder, trusting each other’s backs to one another while in combat; their bond they had developed while under fire and fighting the numerous enemies of their people had only grown stronger as time had gone on, as they continued to fight shoulder to shoulder.

Would he even understand that? If he had told him?

The giant shook his head slowly at the thought; he answered his own silent inquiry as the Scoundrel continued with his rambling. Although the giant very much would have liked to simply assassinate him here and now, instead of interrogating him, he could not afford to give into that sweet rage simmering that craved release within him. Not only did the Scoundrel have the intel he needed to find his comrade, but he was also very much important to the very friend he sought out.

All of this, complicated things.

"You wanna know where she is? She's where she fuckin' wants to be. And if she wants you to find her, she'll let ya. So till then shut the fuck up and you got too close."

He had warned him for the last time, moments ago. So be it, the giant thought to himself as he hesitated not for a mere moment when the Shistavanen’s hands tore free from his wrists; the hands bent and tore in grotesque angles to be set free from the iron grasp of the manacles. At the gentle pull of the blaster pistol’s trigger, the particle round shot out the silencer at a near silent whisper. A shower of gore splattered the giant’s helmet visor not a moment after, as the round struck, detonated and tore away the Shistavanen’s upper half of his face.

But that did not stop the Scoundrel’s forward motion, not by a longshot. His body slamming against his own, the Vizsla felt the ground slip away from underneath his feet as the Scoundrel struck him like an anti-infantry shell. Knocked onto the carpeted floor on his back, under Xyoz’ grapple, the giant’s unconscious and trained reaction took over to respond the tackle; using the Shistavanen’s forward momentum against him, he wasted no time draw up and place one knee between him, placing it over the Scoundrel’s midriff; the giant attempted to throw the Scoundrel off him with the kick afterwards, intended to send him flying across the room to create the opportunity for himself to stand up and face him in hand to hand combat.

Although he had entertained the possibility that things could have taken such a turn, into a full on confrontation, it seemed to him now a fight was unavoidable during his quest for answers for the Wardog’s whereabouts.

He would get the answers he sought; one punch at a time, then.

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

The body was thrown to the side like a sack of potatoes. Might as well've been, given the headless nature. Particle pistols were no joke. But even as the body landed, the Sangnir's head was already mostly reformed. A glowing eye, still devoid of the skull that'd normally house it, focused in on the Mandalorian giant. The skull reformed shortly after, but Xyoz wasn't even bothering to hide how much of a monster he really was.

All that mattered was he saw the Mandalorian. He didn't take stock of the room around them. Didn't care about the table that he'd been thrown over. He scrambled forward like a mad dog, crashing through and over the table as he haphazardly closed in.

"That still fuckin' hurts y'know!"

Then brought the fist around. The mad scramble over the table was the only pause between him getting up and getting into Kranak's face. Xyoz wasn't holding back. Blink, and it'd be missed. Him moving, him raising a fist. Kranak was in Beskar, he should be fine, right? Ah fuck it. A punch, thrown with all that inhuman might, went right for the man's plated face.

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

Freed from the headless Scoundrel’s grapple, the giant rolled to his right on the floor and pushed himself up to his feet without wasting a moment. The man gritted his teeth at the loud crash of the Shistavanen’s body slamming against the table on the other side of the room. Although he could afford to fight the Scoundrel, even though in doing so meant he had to stretch the time table he had to abide by, he could not afford the guards deciding to investigate the noises.

As the Shistavanen took a moment to recover, the giant holstered the particle pistol in his hand; a soft, leathery clack resounded in the room as the pistol sat firmly into its holster over his kama. Utilizing the interactive heads-up display of his helmet, he activated the sound dampening device incorporated into his armor for this mission, with a pre-recorded movement of his eyes. Although the loud rumbling from their fight would still be audible to them, an invisible barrier roughly twenty feet in diameter would prevent the sounds of their clash from reaching the ears of others outside the room.

As long as he was within range of the source of the noise.

A brief surge of energy softly crackled to life right over the Mandalorian’s visor as the giant set his penetrating gaze over the Shistavanen; sweeping his white glimmering visor from right to left, the Shistavanen's blood splatters that otherwise would have impaired his vision was simply disintegrated, swiped clean.

The orange eyes that burned with lively hatred stared back at the Mandalorian from the Shistavanen’s grotesquely injured visage as he healed from his injuries in a mere moment’s notice; although the scene did not phase him in the slightest. He was not an unbloodied, raw recruit. He had become very familiar with the realities of combat from an early point in his life. Seeing fatal injuries such as that on the daily each time he went into combat, whether it belonged to a friend or a foe, he had grown desensitized to it all very quickly.

He didn't take stock of the room around them. Didn't care about the table that he'd been thrown over. He scrambled forward like a mad dog, crashing through and over the table as he haphazardly closed in.

"That still fuckin' hurts y'know!"​

In wordless response to his shout, the giant assumed a textbook stance of Mandalorian Core in a mere moment as they briefly exchanged looks, holding each other's glares before the Shistavanen inevitably charged at him from the other side of the room; pointing his left shoulder towards his foe, the giant minimized his silhouette in an attempt to limit the surface area of his body against the Shistavanen’s strikes. His elbows tucked to his sides, his forearms were raised over his chest, right below his chin; his feet angled were kept shoulder width apart from one another to retain a good balance as he distributed his weight, with his knees and hip bent slightly with his back fairly straight.

A flurry of blows in the form of fists followed not a moment after the giant assumed his stance. In trained response, and at an attempt to limit the man’s avenues of attacks, the giant slowly began to move rearwards, all the while keeping his guard up. Put on the defense for the moment, the giant was swift to duck, lean and dodge around his strikes, but some of his blows crashed into his armor; and of course, although the armor held without trouble against the torrent of fists hurled at him, the Shistavanen was fast, inhumanely so.

Aside from the strikes he dodged, while he managed to block one or two of his strikes, the man took not a moment’s respite to maintain his stamina, and launched a counter attack and hit him from his flanks without pause; muffled, pained grunts and gasps would escape the giant’s lips with each blow that found its mark. He could feel the power behind his blows; the man’s stature betrayed his strength.

Although he let the Shistavanen break his fury on him, an incoming blow in his near future would change that.

Feigning his attack, the Shistavanen had made a gap in the giant’s defense, and exploited it expertly. His punch landed square on his helmet visor; a pained, animalistic growl -louder than the groans and grunts earlier- would reach the Shistavanen’s ears. The giant stumbled back a few steps, but was very quick to regain his composure.

Masterfully retaining his stance and calm, the giant seemed to let him strike still, but as soon as the giant was in firm belief the Shistavanen’s fists would crash against his vambraces, the Mandalorian would pop both of the razor sharp wristband blades built into his vambraces with a wordless command to his interactive heads-up display.

Hoping the unexpected counter and the injury it would cause to create the opening he needed to launch a counter-attack of his own, the giant would retort with a torrent of merciless, unrelenting blows and strikes of his own with his crushgaunts against the Scoundrel, targeting the man’s vulnerabilities first and foremost, such as his face, eyes, liver and kidneys above all else.

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

A disadvantaged for being almost immortal? The Force never told him of any unseen threats. Blood scattered as he felt his fists cut apart. Shredded by the previously unseen blades. But he didn't slow. Didn't stop. A hand, so cut to the point he couldn't even control it anymore, came around to slap the mask and just break off. The stump he could feel. And he'd use what was left of his arm to bludgeon the Mandalorian if he needed to.

Flesh didn't buckle as much as someone might figure. Taking a punch from crushgaunts of all things would shatter a normal person. Xyoz wasn't normal. He might as well of been in armor. That, and the fact the organs in his body were just useless pieces of flesh. His stomach was completely unguarded, every punch hammering away and rupturing the flesh sacks. Blood leaked from his lips, from between his gritted teeth. But asides from pain, they wouldn't stop him.

But after the first punch to his face and the crack of his skull, his wild fury dimmed. He stumbled back, bringing his newly formed hand up to actually defend himself. Wild strength had always let him beat anyone. Sort of. Wild strength and overwhelming amounts of Lightning. The latter of which he had enough thought not to use. He didn't want to kill Kranak. Maybe make him hurt.

Maybe make him hurt a lot. But not kill.

So he did something he hadn't done in a long time. Xyoz slipped back. Hands up to block his face. Eyes steely focused. He started to weave through Kranak's punches like a boxer, the punches that'd slow him down anyway. The ones for his face. Then he'd throw out his own. Targeting, instead of just wildly throwing hands. Under Kranak's arm where armor was the thinnest. Between the plates where he could. Hammering, lightning quick strikes to wear the giant down. All while using the fact he couldn't tire and could just regenerate to his advantage.

"It took some fuckin' shaman to sort her head out you know! Some weird fuckin' ritual that split her in three so she could kill herself. Y'know how fucked that is!? I still dunno how that kinda shit worked but she's finally back, and I ain't gonna let any of you fucks drag her back down to that Mando hell you all live in!"

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

The giant cracked a faint grin underneath his helmet faceplate at the grotesque sound of Xyoz’ flesh meeting the wristband blades; with ease it cut through his flesh, skin and nerves alike. An injury that would be regarded as deadly for any being lesser than the Scoundrel’s.

But as expected, he relented not for a moment, as he continued to strike against him despite his injuries. In their healing condition, his hands, struggling to ball them into fists as they healed, slapped wildly against his armor, and helmet faceplate. While some of the strikes simply glanced off his armor and helmet as it lacked the power of the strikes from before, those who hit the spot, the giant still felt the unnatural strength of the man behind the strikes.

Although he did not expect the Scoundrel to relent even for a brief moment from the wounds the monomolecular edge wristband blades would cause, his trick had worked and had given him the opportunity to strike back at the Shistavanen, returning the man’s fury in kind with each blow with his crushgaunts.

Blow after blow, the giant of a Mandalorian striked back, working his way from the bottom to the top as he prioritized striking what he perceived to be his vulnerabilities, but as the giant’s crushgaunts struck where his organs would be underneath the Shistavanen’s flesh; and although the giant could see blood flowing freely from his mouth, his strikes aimed at his organs appeared to have lacked the effect over the Shistavanen the giant desired.

However, the Mandalorian soon would figure out where exactly if he struck, would he get the results he desired. As the Vizsla landed a devastating right hook over the Shistavanen’s visage, things took an interesting turn.

As the Scoundrel slipped back a few feet, the giant moved forward in pursuit, attempting to prevent the Scoundrel from gaining a noteworthy space of movement as he raised his hands over his face to block the incoming strikes of the giant.

He had pummeled him into defense!

Seizing the initiative, the giant continued his attack. Although he had forced him to take a step back with a firm blow to his head, the shift in the Scoundrel’s fighting style was clear as the untouched and clean waters of Lake Htagir. Instead of attacking wildly in an unrelenting torrent of fists, utilizing his unnatural strength and regeneration so plainly against his opponent, the Scoundrel now actually began biding his time in between the giant’s strikes; he dodged and weaved around them swiftly, and retorted with precision strikes to his vulnerabilities.

He was fighting smart now, attempting to tire down the giant!

Despite the gritted teeth as the giant endured the pain behind each strike that hit home, a wide grin took hold of the giant’s features as the fight went on. Although he hadn’t really intended to fight him, and had taken into account of it, in case it did take place, he began enjoying the fight.

The brief enjoyment he had felt would be swept in a surge of anger at the Shistavanen’s words, as the man weaved away to the left, away from the giant’s powerful right hook, and landed a punch to his flank, one of the gaps of his cuirass. The giant coughed a few times as the Shistavanen punched some air out of his lungs with the blow. In response, the giant momentarily fell back to defense, watching the Shistavanen’s moves with sharp vigilance to seize an opportunity to retaliate once more.

. All while using the fact he couldn't tire and could just regenerate to his advantage.

"It took some fuckin' shaman to sort her head out you know! Some weird fuckin' ritual that split her in three so she could kill herself. Y'know how fucked that is!? I still dunno how that kinda shit worked but she's finally back, and I ain't gonna let any of you fucks drag her back down to that Mando hell you all live in!"​

Although anger took over his mind at the finishing words of the Scoundrel, he was surprised by the revelation at first. A Shaman? Who exactly did he speak of? And the Wardog… her self… was split in three through a ritual?

All of it raised more questions in the giant’s mind.

But they would have to wait to be answered, as he had the Scoundrel to fight, first.

<”What do you know of what it means to be a Mandalorian!? Street trash!”> as the giant wrathfully retorted back at the man, his left hand balled into a fist would open, just a moment before the Scoundrel’s strike met with his vambraces yet again. With a muffled meaty thud the man’s fist struck the palm of the giant’s cybernetic hand. Like a fly trap, the giant’s large hand firmly closed over the Scoundrels fist, tightening mercilessly at a vice-like grasp. Swiftly yanking him closer, the giant manipulated the Scoundrel with his strength, twirling the Scoundrel around, with his back facing the giant.

Landing a firm kick to the back of his left knee, the giant forced the Scoundrel to his knees as he placed him under a firm rear naked choke; grunts and growling akin to that of a boar escaped his lips amidst their struggle. Arching his back as the giant tightened the choke hold more, the Mandalorian applied extraordinary pressure over the Shistavanen’s neck; and with a swift flowing motion of his upper body to the side after a reasonably long struggle while the Shistavanen under his choke hold, the Scoundrel’s neck finally gave way with a gut wrenching, qualmish crack.

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

Crack.

It was probably one of the most uncomfortable feelings Xyoz could experience. It hurt like hell, where he could feel it. In his neck, anyway. Head twisted at a wrong angle, hanging off his body that just fell limp. He'd be able to move again, soon enough, but right now he just couldn't. Ugh. Not being able to feel his arms and legs was the worst. He grumbled, his eyes glaring at where he could see Kranak.

Best he could, anyway, like he was.

"I know that cause of you fucks she lost everything. Her body. Her mind. Hell, she wanted kids more than anything but no, she lost that. All because she put you fucks first. N' I couldn't fuckin' help. Not once. I hate it. I hate you fucks. I hate all of it."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

The giant heaved deep breaths as he felt the Scoundrel’s body becoming limp under his choke hold; but he knew better. Like he recovered from a fatal head wound, he would recover from this in a moment, too. The man was torn in half by a damn fully grown Rancor on Tatooine, regenerating from the lower half of his body as the beast devoured his upper half. What was a broken neck in comparison to that?

With that in mind, the giant kept his vice-like grasp over the neck of the forcefully knelt Shistavanen as the man spoke with a bit of a struggle; the fiery orange eyes stared up at the Vizsla’s helmet faceplate as best as the giant’s grasp allowed him to.

"I know that cause of you fucks she lost everything. Her body. Her mind. Hell, she wanted kids more than anything but no, she lost that. All because she put you fucks first. N' I couldn't fuckin' help. Not once. I hate it. I hate you fucks. I hate all of it."

The man heaved a sigh in between the long draw of breaths as the stamina he had spent slowly returned to him. Although his vigilance faltered not, this brief pause in their fight had subdued the wrath within him. He could think without anger and rage taking hold of his mind, suppressing such feelings with professional restraint.

The Scoundrel made valid points; they all paid a price in servitude towards their people, but the cause of their agony throughout their time of service, had nothing to do with them, or their people but their enemies; those who would burn down Kestri at a heartbeat if they could, like they had glassed Mandalore so long ago.

<”Servitude,”> The giant muttered; his breathing pattern started to relax as he no longer heaved deep breaths while he recovered the remainder of his spent stamina. <”What a simple word that fails to describe it's true meaning in reality,”> the man spoke in stoic patience as the armored visage of his helmet lowered; the glowing white visor looking the Scoundrel in the eye. <”We both signed up, willingly, fully aware of the stakes. No matter the mission we undertook, no matter the battle we fought, the danger of losing our lives, let alone our limbs, was always, always present,”> The giant’s grasp of steel relaxed finally; slipping from his grasp, the giant watched the Scoundrel fall on the carpeted floor.

<”If you want to blame somebody, blame those who tampered and broke her mind under their imprisonment,”> Taking a few steps back from the limp body, the giant assumed a defensive posture as he continued to speak. <”We all made sacrifices of our own, no matter how great, or small,”> He didn’t mean that for just the two of them, the Wardog and himself; but for all those who were under the servitude of their people. So many missed wedding anniversaries, and other special occasions of their beloved… There were fellow battle-brothers among them that were denied the once in a lifetime privilege to bear witness the birth of their children with their own eyes, or could not celebrate their Foundlings passing their Verd’goten with them, when they had shipped out to battle the numerous enemies of their people on some Manda forsaken rock, thousands of light years away from home.

Those who set out to destroy the lot of them had taken such joys away from them all.

They fought, not just for the safety of their people and to ensure their existence forevermore, but also fought so those who would inevitably replace them in their ranks would not have to be stripped away from such joys.

<”But what do you know of duty, and sacrifice? You’re nothing but a damn drug baron; a new, nice, expensive whip and drip will never change that fact.”> The giant remarked with retort. He did not put it past him to understand; he did not lack the intelligence to do so after all, but to truly grasp what it meant, to be able to relate to it all… that he did not believe the Scoundrel was capable of.

<”I have a binding duty of a friend, of a battle-brother to find her; to make it up to her, to do what’s right. Her soul…”> The giant paused briefly at his own words. The Wardog had come so close to tread down the path of damnation, because he could not find and rescue her in time. He felt guilty as all hell because of it, and the only way to make up for his mistakes, to make it up to her, meant that he be at her side, and help her back to The Path; help her reach salvation.

<”I must find her.”>

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

"Yea that sounds about right. 'Big tuff warrior you can't understand honor.' Shit doesn't change no matter the karkin' century." Xyoz scoffed. Glared. This is what he hated about Mandalorians the most. Not their honor bound bull crap. Not their self sacrificing ways. But the fact he did understand it. He knew it first hand. And he'd seen just what it cost him. "Throwin' yourself into the meat grinder again and again because of some honor code is just the same karkin' thing. It ain't willin'. Don't you karkin' pretend it's willin'. You baked that shit into your karkin' Resol'nare."

There was another crack as his head snapped back into place. He groaned, but he didn't suddenly start struggling. Hell, he just stayed where he was dropped. Frustrated. Angry.

".. Not that you can make Shai do anythin'. But still! It's your fucks fault she ended up that way. Why didn't you have her back? Why'd you let her get so karked up!? You're supposed to be her karkin' blood brother or whatever and where were you when she got karkin' busted, huh? I couldn't even karkin' be there and you didn't karkin' protect her and now you're karkin' with me to try and find her! Just leave her alone. Let her have some karkin' peace for just a little while longer before you drag her back to that meat grinder." Anger just turned to despair. Pleading. He knew. They both knew. Shai wouldn't stay away, not from them. Not if the Mandalorians needed her.

"Please, man. Don't take her away from me already."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Xyoz Maji

​

"Yea that sounds about right. 'Big tuff warrior you can't understand honor.' Shit doesn't change no matter the karkin' century." Xyoz scoffed. Glared.

"Throwin' yourself into the meat grinder again and again because of some honor code is just the same karkin' thing. It ain't willin'. Don't you karkin' pretend it's willin'. You baked that shit into your karkin' Resol'nare."​

A muffled, contemptuous pout escaped the giant’s helmet annunciator at the Scoundrel’s words. He didn’t expect his understanding to surpass that to begin with. He was unsurprised; just as he expected from an aruetii, an outsider to their path, the Scoundrel failed to grasp what sacrifice and duty meant. That was nothing new.

Although all those who had earned the right to call themselves a Mandalorian were obliged to hold fast in the defense of their home and families, and rally under the Mand’alor’s banner at a dire time of need in accordance to the Resol’nare, their military service differed. They drew their recruits on a voluntary basis, and many joined willingly to fight against the numerous and equally detestable enemies of their people; the reasons they signed up differed from Mandalorian to Mandalorian. Some joined seeking the addictive glory and thrill of combat; some, with those who had a high sense of duty in their hearts and minds, joined with the simple wish to serve their people, to defend them; some joined their ranks with the determination to make a name for themselves, leave a saga behind that’d be remembered decades after they were gone.

And there were those who signed up just for the pay.

Regardless of what had them join, they were in it willingly, and aware of the sacrifices that they would have to make during the line of duty.

As another sickening crack of bone resounded distinctly from the Shistavanen’s neck, the giant’s muscle’s tensed in the anticipation the man to attack him, but a moment’s confusion and surprise got ahold of his features as the Shistavanen just lied there on the carpeted floor instead. As he began voicing the anger and frustration against the unfairness of it all, the giant listened to him wordlessly as the defensive posture he had assumed began to relax.

".. Not that you can make Shai do anythin'. But still! It's your fucks fault she ended up that way. Why didn't you have her back? Why'd you let her get so karked up!? You're supposed to be her karkin' blood brother or whatever and where were you when she got karkin' busted, huh? I couldn't even karkin' be there and you didn't karkin' protect her and now you're karkin' with me to try and find her! Just leave her alone. Let her have some karkin' peace for just a little while longer before you drag her back to that meat grinder." Anger just turned to despair. Pleading.

"Please, man. Don't take her away from me already."​

The anger in the man’s voice turned slowly, but surely, into despair as the giant listened to him without a word. At a trudge, he had walked beside the Scoundrel on the ground, and sat cross-legged beside him; the expressionless visage of his helmet and glowing visor stared blankly at the man. The giant shook his head slowly as he was immersed in thought.

This was the reason they were advised to not have an aruetii as their beloved. They did not understand. Only their kin, and like minded individuals of the aruetiise, which was a rarity on its own, understood.

But the man’s words of the giant’s failure struck true.

The Vizsla heaved a deep sigh in response as he continued to speak, listening to his ranting and accusations without as much as uttering a word. Only a long moment after the Scoundrel finished, did he speak.

<”I tried,”> The giant muttered to him in a tired voice; the featureless helmet visor continued to stare at the Shistavanen’s visage before him. <”I looked for her across the galaxy, to find her, and bring her back home in one piece, but I failed. The search for her remained fruitless; we’ve only discovered a mere name of the location she was supposedly held at. Whether it’s a planet, a space station, or a prison ship, remains to be unknown to this day. I could not stop the Maw from tampering and eventually breaking her mind. I could not find her in time. I could not be at her side when she needed me the most to save her,”> Heaving a troubled sigh, the giant came to a pause. His armored visage trailed away from the Scoundrel’s features, and onto a corner of the room.

The giant’s gaze fell onto his lap from the corner of the room as continued to speak. <”It’s guilt is something I will bear on my shoulders forevermore, until the day I've drawn my last breath,”> Kranak raised his armored and expressionless visage at the man again, looking him in the eye. <”I cannot repeat the same mistake again. She came very close to damnation and I could not reach her, I couldn’t be there to prevent that from ever happening. Now, she needs the help of a friend to walk the path towards salvation,”> the burning guilt and weariness in the Mandalorian's voice gave way to determination as he continued to speak to the Scoundrel. <”It’s what she would do if I was the one that experienced her fate instead of her. I have to make up for my failure, and fulfill my binding duty of a comrade.”>

​

 

[Xyoz Maji]

"Wha- that tortured chit? I don't blame you for that. Hell, I couldn't even find her, n' I still got my own contacts in the Sith. Freaks, them, but even they couldn't point me where she was bein' held."

An all too exhausted sigh escaped him. The kind that actually betrayed just how old he was. The desperation, the pleading, it faded as he regained some composure. Well, that's what he'd like to believe anyway. He set a hand on his face, blocking out the light. Blocking out the Mandalorian beside him. It was always Shai that made him feel anything more than boredom and hunger.

But she wasn't his. Not alone, anyway.

"She went home. Wanted to make her amends as best she could. Didn't want to make a fuss over it either. Now that she's not y'know, machine, she can blend in easier or some chit. She's like me. But she ain't." He grumbled. Sat up. Stretched. Moping wasn't his style. Mood swings of a drastic level were, though. His eyes narrowed as he looked around the mess of the room. His scattered hands, really. They were already shriveling to dust. "She won't heal like I do. Don't let her think she can just take a headshot or somethin' and walk away unscathed. And she needs blood. Not animal blood, people blood. Or she'll start to go crazy. N' I fuckin swear if she goes through that chit that turned her into a fuckin' droid again and you ain't dead tryin' to stop it, I'll kill you my fuckin' self."

Xyoz took another completely unneeded breath. Shai Maji didn't need him looking out for her, but he couldn't help it.

"Last thing, so it's clear as fuckin' day. She's my wife. I might be Aruetti or whatever, but I'm just as much a part of her life as you fucks. So don't break into my ship next time and just send a call. .. Come in person I still dunno how the fuck holocoms work."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tag: Xyoz Maji

​

"Wha- that tortured chit? I don't blame you for that. Hell, I couldn't even find her, n' I still got my own contacts in the Sith. Freaks, them, but even they couldn't point me where she was bein' held."

The featureless armored visage of the giant tilted slightly to his side in a wordless response to the Scoundrel’s clarification; at first he wasn’t sure what exactly he voiced his outcry, but then it did dawn on him. The Shistavanen, of course, cared as deeply for the Wardog as the giant did, at the very least. Thinking back to everything the man remarked before and during their brief brawl, it now became apparent that the man had, and very much understandably so, had not taken kindly to the Wardog’s mutilation at the hands of their enemies, that had occured way before she had fallen prisoner to the Maw. It had happened on Coruscant, he remembered what she had told him. The only way she could have hoped to recover from it all, reaching back to fighting condition, was through extensive use of cybernetic replacements of the limbs and organs the enemy had taken from her.

As the Scoundrel raised his hand to his brow and caressed it, taking shelter from the expressionless, glowing white visor of the giant, the Mandalorian gave the man a brief, understanding nod of his head. As the Shistavanen spoke further, answering the giant’s original inquiry and then some, Kranak remained silent, listening to every word the man uttered.

"She went home. Wanted to make her amends as best she could. Didn't want to make a fuss over it either. Now that she's not y'know, machine, she can blend in easier or some chit. She's like me. But she ain't."

He understood what the man meant when he said she went home; Kestri. She had set out to return home. That would greatly narrow his search down. Depending on when she embarked on her journey back to the frozen planet, she would either get back to Kestri before him, or he would beat her to it by an hour or so.

But as the Scoundrel continued to speak, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his remark. She was… like him, like Xyoz, but not at the same time. What exactly he meant by this, the Scoundrel would clarify in the coming moment, as the giant sat beside him on the carpeted ground wordlessly, holding back the inquiry regarding Xyoz’ remark in his mind.

"She won't heal like I do. Don't let her think she can just take a headshot or somethin' and walk away unscathed. And she needs blood. Not animal blood, people blood. Or she'll start to go crazy. N' I fuckin swear if she goes through that chit that turned her into a fuckin' droid again and you ain't dead tryin' to stop it, I'll kill you my fuckin' self."

Things made sense in his mind, but not at the same time; piecing things together, the turn of events pointed towards the fact that the Scoundrel had restored the cybernetic limbs he had torn from what little flesh the Wardog had over Tython. She shared the Scoundrel’s Sangnir heritage now. He remembered the Wardog being on the fence on that one, harkening back to that night they shared on the rooftop of The Kom’rk on Kestri; the night where the Wardog had talked the giant out of making a wholly irrecoverable mistake.

Although Kranak assumed the Wardog would have prefered to have the body she was robbed of given back to her, he did not understand why she hesitated to take the Scoundrel up to his offer back then; back when he wasn’t fully aware of the weight that decision carried, it’s downsides. He had assumed it would come at a cost even then, but did not know its full extent.

Faced with no other choice, the Scoundrel had passed down his heritage onto her, to save her from the clutches of death after Tython.

But what didn’t make a lot of sense in his mind was the fact that she apparently did not share the extraordinary regeneration capabilities the Scoundrel possessed. The restoration of all her organs and limbs… Was it only a one-time thing?

It seemed so; what other reason was there for the Scoundrel’s promise to take his life if she suffered such horrendous injuries again?

Although he did not respond verbally, the giant gave a faint nod of his head, extending a wordless expression of his acknowledgement to the Scoundrel’s words. They did not share the same deployment when Shai had gone on to fight the arch enemy on Coruscant when it happened, but as long as they waged war on the same frontline, shoulder to shoulder, he would watch over her, just as she would watch over him in return; like they’ve always done in their past.

The giant stood up from the floor, and walked towards the kitchen table where he had binded the Shistavanen. The torn pair of hands, as well as the chunks of his upper cranium, flesh and gray matter, were all decomposing into dust as moments passed; small to large pools of blood, now half dried, stained the carpeted floor. Kneeling down, the chains of the Mandalorian Manacle jingled in his grasp as he tucked it into a small pouch at the back of his warbelt. Standing up straight, the giant looked at the Shistavanen over the black command pauldron on his left shoulder as the Scoundrel spoke again.

"Last thing, so it's clear as fuckin' day. She's my wife. I might be Aruetti or whatever, but I'm just as much a part of her life as you fucks. So don't break into my ship next time and just send a call. .. Come in person I still dunno how the fuck holocoms work."

A grumble crackled out the Mandalorian’s helmet annunciator. <”I don’t exactly have one of the galaxy’s top drug barons on speed dial,”> the giant retorted in response at first. Turning around, his gaze would shift away from the visage of the man sitting on the ground and to the door as he checked for the time at the corner of his eye in his heads-up display; Kranak heaved a muffled sigh; he had stretched the time window to its constraints. He needed to take his leave. Walking towards the door he would come to a brief pause in front of it; his hand grasped the door handle, but paused a moment away from opening the door to leave.

Looking over his left shoulder, the giant spoke as his thoughts dwelled on the Wardog. <”You treat her well. She needed the love and care of a lover in her life for a long time now; something a mere battle-brother could not provide alone,”> he said, giving him a slow, downward nod of his head.

Although he did not see what Shai Maji had seen in the Scoundrel that had her fall in love with him, and marry him later on, he could feel it. There was still some good in that man’s heart, something that redeemed him in the Wardog’s eyes.

He’d ask her what that was to her in person at some point, if their eventual confrontation would allow it.

​