Credit Where Credit's Due (Closed)

[guyloveshotstories]

"Whoops. Sorry" leaning forward and placing the gauntlet on the bench away from her, but also away from me. "Perhaps I shouldn't be handling your things. Unless I want to blow up!" chuckling lightly to myself to set my mind at ease, realizing that I just narrowly avoided self destruction.

"What does, uh, what does all your stuff do?" asking her curious about everything she had and was, or was, wearing. "What does all of your gear do?" flicking my eyes from the gauntlet backt to her as she looked at me behind that black visor.

 

[Poprockz]

Her posture relaxed once the gauntlet was set down, the immediate danger having passed. He seemed a reasonable sort, thankfully, and she was glad for it.

"That gauntlet has a flame-thrower and a laser in it that can either do single shots or a prolonged, more concentrated beam. My other gauntlet has my net and tether, as well as a couple of grenades and missiles. My foot pieces have knives in them that can be prompted to quickly shift out, and my belt has a variety of useful things. The chest piece has a jet-pack on the back, and my helmet allows me to stay as part of The Way." The woman started to polish the piece of armor she was holding again.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Shoot. Guess I should try getting some of that for myself," speaking half in jest. The way she showed it off made my feel woefully lacking in some areas. I just carried a blaster pistol. I didn't know what else we are getting ourselves into. The Empire is after us now. They will be looking for us. They are a relentless bunch. I should be more prepared. That would mean carrying a lot more than I ever have before. Even if I finish this job, get my credits and go, the Empire will still be after me. They are never going to forget me.

'The Way?' asking myself 'What was The Way?' A religion? A cult? She better not be a cultist. I can't stand those people. They stiff you at the end of the job by dying for their Cause. Leaving a body but never any credits. Several times glancing at her and then at the armor she cleaned and back.

Pursing my lips and looking down, flicking my fingers, a way to work my mind in deep thought. A lot of things bouncing around in my mind.

"Since we are going to be spending a lot more time together, perhaps, Gra'tia, I should learn a little bit more about you. Then you can learn a little bit about me," putting up a soothing smile. I wasn't going to delve into her deepest feelings. I just wanted to know what it was like to be a Mandalorian. The whole aspect of her lifestyle was simply alien to me.

Still leaning back in my chair and hands on my lap, ankles crossed over, I wasn't going anywhere immediately. If the Outlander was approaching its destination, or a threat, the computer would give out a piercing warning. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Ask her. What's the harm in just asking her? Unless you want to spend the next half hour just staring at her. That would be even worse than asking a simple question. Swallowing hard and closing my eyes, taking a throught and piecing it together, then forcing myself to say it and hope she didn't get angry.

"Just what is this Way that you are speaking of?" finally forcing myself to ask. She had that blaster pistol in reach. I had mine. Neither are going to be necessary. Just a polite conversation between the two of us, I thought.

 

[Poprockz]

Her head tilted slightly at his question and she was quiet for a few seconds before explaining. "Some would say that "The Way of the Mandalore" is a cult, while others would say that it is simply a code of conduct. It's more the latter than the former, but it does have religious aspects to it. We adhere to The Creed which guides us and how we conduct ourselves. One of our main tenets is that we cannot remove our helmets in the presence of another living being, lest we be considered apostates and no longer true Mandalorians. Mostly though, The Way is based on honor, protecting the foundlings, and ensuring the prosperity of our people."

As though anticipating a question, she answered preemptively, "the foundlings are younglings who lost their families in one way or another, more often than not as a result of war or violence. They are adopted by the convent and raised to fight and ensure the survival of the tribe. We are a warrior people, so we're trained from a very young age."

There was a sigh and she rubbed her neck. "It must sound strange to an outsider, I realize that. However, it is the creed I live by."

 

[guyloveshotstories]

Gently I nodded my head to her, understanding it was difficult. It countered our creed as a smuggler. The creed is greed. Her not showing her face to me made my job just a little difficult. What was she hiding behind that helmet? Describing herself, and her people, as a race of warriors pretty much confirmed to me that we are taking weapons. Had to dash those thoughts out of my mind. She had her rules, and I had mine.

'Don't peek inside the cargo'

"Do all of your people follow this, uh, code? Kinda hard to imagine going through your entire life hiding behind a mask," I said gently rapping my fingers onto my lap. It kept my mind going while sitting her, looking at her, and pondering what to say to a type of person who was a stranger to me. Like I said before, this was all alien to me. It was intriguing.

 

[Poprockz]

There was a shrug, “yes and no. If you’re not part of The Way, then the creed says that they are not true Mandalorians, thus all true Mandalorians follow the way." She hesitated, "but... there are Mandalorians who were born to the planet or to the culture who are considered apostates, though they themselves consider themselves Mandalorian. It is not job to question the creed but... suffice it to say that I don't know if following The Way is truly the only way to be Mandalorian."

The woman reached up and touched her helmet gingerly. "It is. We can remove it when we're alone, but otherwise it stays on if there are eyes that can see your true visage. It can be particularly annoying during mealtimes."

 

[guyloveshotstories]

This made me chuckle. "I can imagine. Does it bother you, though? Having to keep your face hidden? Not being able to show who you really are? I can't think of myself going through my entire life hiding my face," saying it without properly. Being a smuggler, I had to hide my face. It wasn't part of our rules. It was just something that must be done in order to stay in business.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to think, maybe me and her had more in common than I thought. A Mandalorian like her, their rules dictated concealing their faces. Those that did not are not true to their people. I had to hide my face to stay alive. Only those that knew me would be able to find me.

Sometimes the Galaxy conspires in ways that are truly bizarre.

 

[Poprockz]

Her helmet dipped downward a bit and she fiddled with the piece of armor she was holding, "I... used to find it very stifling, but I got used to it. As far as 'showing people who I truly am' - that isn't something I necessarily have any issue with. I dedicate my life to Mandalore and thus I don't have time for friendships or relationships. It distracts from the task at hand. It is not against the creed to have associations, even families, but I simply can't afford to do so."

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Doesn't sound like much of a life, if I can be fully honest with you. If you dedicate your entire life to, uh, your people, at what point do you have time for yourself? By the time you're elderly, it would be too late to consider a family, wouldn't it?" forcing myself to say it then immediately regretting myself. Once the words came spilling out of my mouth I just couldn't stop myself. You would think that, as a smuggler I would be able to keep my mouth in check.

Who was I to talk about relationships? Our first encounter I plowed a high-end whore into next week. Then I turned her down and booted her out of the room when the deed was done. Never had I ever considered a serious relationship. "Who am I to toot my own horn, I haven't had a relationship in who knows how long. Not because of a lack of time. It's the lack of trust. That's why most smugglers work solo. Fearing their mate would stab them in their sleep and steal the cargo," gesturing with an extended thumb at the wall but pointing towards my own cabin.

Remember one old friend, Drexler, he was a good smuggler. Taught me alot. His choice in partners was not the best. He took on two women for a run to the Core System. A shipment of Spice. Real dangerous stuff. These women, I don't know where he got them from, they reeked of corruption. I think he took them on because they were hot, and they were. One night they stabbed him in his sleep. Took the shipment and disappeared. One of the reasons why I rarely took passengers, too.

 

[Poprockz]

She nodded knowingly, "trust is another reason why it wouldn't be advisable. I have been betrayed several times already, so the best policy is to assume that everyone is going to double-cross you sooner or later. It is what has kept me alive. I would rather be alive and working for the cause than end up with a fatal blaster wound in the middle of the night."

The boot was set down on a nearby table before she reached down and started to pull up her shirt. Contrary to what one may have assumed, she wasn't intending to flash him. Instead, she lifted it just enough so he could see a gnarly scar near the bottom of her ribs. "This is from someone I purchased some of the goods from. They decided that they liked the idea of the bounty plus my own fee combined."

 

[guyloveshotstories]

Her fingers started to lift the under-armor shirt, it drew a cocked eyebrow from me at first. When the scar was revealed my dark eyes narrowed, taking it in. She spoke and I leaned back into my seat with a long sigh. Partly for relief it wasn't her attempt of attacking me, as she sternly warned before about being double-crossed and trust.

A gnarly scar to be certain. I had one of my own. "If we are comparing scars..." grasping the front collar of my shirt and pulling it down to show more skin. There lay a 2cm long light pink scar against my fair skin. "Present from a former customer, too. He wanted my shipment, and stabbed me in the chest, thinking he killed me. Thank the stars that I had Bacta on hand," letting go with a chuckle and then the collar itself.

"You don't have to worry about me, Gra'tia, I didn't get my reputation with backstabbing. Besides, if I tried anything against you, I get the feeling it would take more than just me to take you down," concluding with a firm nod.

 

[Poprockz]

Under her helmet she smiled, and it could be heard in her tone of voice when she replied, "Thank you, Redar. I appreciate your words." Obviously she wasn't going to trust him after a simple reassurance, regardless of his reputation. Still, she found the gesture rather sweet, especially when he had shown her his own scar. He was familiar with the constant wariness one had to have to do what they each did, and that made her feel a certain kinship with him.

"So from someone who does go out to socialize and do recreational activities, what do you typically like to do when you're not on the job?" she asked curiously.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

I think she already saw what I do when off duty. Certainly heard it. Mostly it was redheads. Sometimes blondes. "Waiting for the next job." A bit of a lie. I was waiting. Fixing the ship for the next run and humping. That was my time. Not glamorous to an outsider looking in.

Fitting out the Outlander cost the most. Fuel prices have gone up considerably because of the War. Nearly half of all earnings go into this baby. Something that I'm proud of. Without the Outlander I would be in this business, and screwing redheads.

"I must be careful who I socialize with. The Empire, the Republic, and everyone else have spies. I'm not going to say that I'm important, but, after what happened back there, it's a fair bet that someone back at the hotel ratted us out."

 

[Poprockz]

She nodded thoughtfully, "you didn't mention to anyone that I was Mandalorian, did you? There are many of us who take up bounty hunter work, so a lot of people already dislike us. Some have a family member or friend who got caught and taken in at our hands. Even if it's not either faction, there are many who have personal grudges."

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Nope," shrugging my shoulders and returning my hands to my lap. "You're the first Mandalorian that I have ever met. I wouldn't know one of you from anyone else." Leaning my head back and scratching my chin. A pose to appear I was in deep thought. Who else would have known? Got me to thinking, that whore. The redhead at the hotel. She saw the two of us together. Like I said before, there are spies everywhere. She must have heard us talking. Gra'tia did ask if I knew what a Mandalorian was. Whore like that love to listen into conversations.

"That redhead. It must have been that redhead. The one at the hotel," snapping my fingers. To me it sounded logical. It sounded like the only real explaination. At least in my mind. I don't know who else Gra'tia met and talked to before I met her.

 

[Poprockz]

"Perhaps," she mused, "though it doesn't matter too much at this point. I'll never go back to that place, and there are plenty of whorehouses in the galaxy if you need to see to your... sexual needs." Her tone sounded just a bit shy, and she looked away from him and back to the task of polishing another piece of armor.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Hey. A man's gotta take care of himself, right?" shrugging my shoulders once again. "The place is a popular one. They will have friends to spread the word around. You're right, though. It doesn't matter now. The system that we are on our way to right now is pretty isolated. Lay low there for a bit. Then we make another hop to another system. Best not take a direct route to our destination, or else the Empire can anticipate it and cut us off."

 

[Poprockz]

"How long is 'a little bit'? We need to reach our destination without too much delay. I don't mind taking it slow, but I need to know that we won't show up at Mandalore next year." There was a sigh, "also. Do you have any contacts we're staying with in this new system, or will we continue staying in the ship at the time?"

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"I have to take a look at my NAVI-computer again...."

DOOWEEP DOOWEEP DOOWEEP

Eyebrows buckling and craning my head around towards the PA system above me. "Speak of the devil. That's the NAVI-computer right now. We are nearing our first stop," standing up and running both hands over the front of my clothes. "I'm heading to the cockpit," gesturing with an extended thumb over my shoulder.

On the way there I pondered. Was it really that redhead whore? Was it because I stuck my dick in her, or did she really recgonize who Gra'tia was? If it was her, then I should pay her a visit afterwards. Not to finish our fun. To put a laser bolt in her forehead for defacing my baby. I reached out with my right hand and patted the corridor support struts.

The NAVI-computer continued to beep when I entered the cockpit. "Alright. Alright. I'm here. Shut up already!" taking a seat and flipping the switch to turn off that blasted noise. Glancing at the console, yep, everything is operating nomially. Nearing our destination. In about five minutes we will drop out of hyperspace. I made that known to Gra'tia through the PA system.

 

[Poprockz]

Pausing her shining, she put all of her armor back on and was soon walking into the cockpit. Some of her pieces looked shiny and new, while others now looked dull by comparison. Gra'tia sat down in the other seat and strapped herself in. Some atmospheres were rough, and she didn't want to be bounced around the ship like the beans in a maraca.

"So... where are we?" she asked curiously.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Trask. An estuary moon of a gas giant. Isolated and lowly populated. A harbor and dock. Good place to lay low for a while. The planet is mostly water," I say and to prove it the NAVI-computer warns we are in range with a red light flashing on the console. Grasping the throttle and pushing it forward the Outlander spills out of hyperspace. The moon looms into view directly before us. A blue orb covered in long strands of white clouds that mask what little land mass there is.

"Not as bustling and popular as where we once were. Certainly no good whore houses. A quiet place though. No Empire or Republic people here. Pretty much this is a neutral as you can be. Still, keep your eyes open," I didn't trust anyone even though I have been there many times. Lots of familiar faces.

The moon was a popular spot for freighter pilots but also smugglers to make their exchanges. There was no real government. Just a lot of little businesses. Each of them had their armed guards. If you are on the streets you have to have one eye on your back at all times.

The Outlander approached the atmosphere and I prepared for our entry. "Strap yourself in. Once we pierce the atmosphere we are bound to run into chops. Storms are pretty much constant on the surface. Oh, and don't go for a dip in the ocean....just don't go into the ocean," with a shake of my head.

 

[Poprockz]

"I don't get wet unless it's absolutely necessary," she responded, looking at the moon with interest. "I think I've heard of Trask. Isn't it the place with the Calamari people?" Though it couldn't be seen, she had given him a sideways look at the mention of the quality of their whorehouses. Was he a sex-tourist?

Her arms laid on her arm-rests and she gripped them. She didn't like turbulence- it made her exceedingly nervous. However, no one would have guessed this by the way her helmet portrayed a constant mask of stoicism.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

"Yes. The Calamari people are about, oh, half the population. They own most of the big businesses, including the docks." Fingertips carefully adjusted the controls. We entered the atmosphere. For about the minute the Outlander was consumed in fire. When we broke through we went right into a thick cloud bank. Visbility was virtually zero. I was flying by instruments and they are telling me to keep going straight. All the while the craft is buffeted by crosswinds.

Then came the rain. Sheets of dark rain that drowned out the windshield. Now we are truly flying blind. "Ah, damn it." I knew this was going to happen. "Just hang on," speaking out the side of my mouth. My eyes remained fixated on the console. Crosswinds hit us and pushed the Outlander sharply to port and then back just as quickly to starboard. Pounding rain from above.

The computer was telling me to maintain a straight course. Without a visual reference point my mind was telling me we are drifting. Caused by the constant shaking of the craft. Trust the instruments. Trust technology. The scopes and computer could see better than I could.

A pocket of warm air we hit going about 350 knots and the Outlander shuddered hard pitching us both forward. The straps in my seat kept me from flying forward and hitting the console. "Damn it!" gritting my teeth. Then came one bang from the back followed by another.

I tried to prevent any worry from showing on my face. The computer was saying nothing at the moment. That was good.

 

[Poprockz]

Fuck... If he could see her knuckles right now, they would be as white as her face from how hard she was clutching the arm rests at that point. She could feel herself sweating slightly as well. One would think that she would have gotten used to turbulence at this point, but she couldn't help but feel anxiety each time the ship shuddered and shook. There was also the added element of crashing into the water to worry about. While she could certainly swim, she didn't want the cargo to be lost, nor did she want to risk the possibility of being trapped in the ship and drowning.

"Ngh!" There was a little grunt of fear from her as the ship quaked once more, though she tried to play it off as though nothing had happened. He might have heard it, but she hoped he hadn't, or that he had mistaken the sound for something else. The woman tried to focus on her breathing, but that was difficult to do when her body was stock-still and her teeth were gritted so tightly.

 

[guyloveshotstories]

Eyes looking at the console. A warning light flared with a high pitched ring. WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP. A warning to pull up. We are not in danger yet. Perhaps 1,000 meters. If we got lower than that the computer would be screaming at us. Slowly I pulled back on the stick and Outlander levelled out. Still in the storm clouds. Flying blind. The instrument panel flashed and beeped. Noises overlapping and drowning out everything else.

I glanced over at Gra'tia to see she was still there. All I could afford was a glance then getting right back to piloting the ship. Again and again crosswinds shook the Outlander. Throwing us off course the computer gave a warning again, DIN DIN DIN DIN warning to correct the approach as we were drifting.

'How much further is it, damn it? The whole thing feels like it's about to shake apart' thinking, trying hard to not show any fear on my face but the blood was running out giving me a pale face and my hands shook.