literature

SW- Adopt RP- Jakaan-Yillani

Deviation Actions

Published: Jul 21, 2011

343 Views

Literature Text

He blearily looked up as the klaxons blared, lightheadedness blanking his thoughts, and then giving a sound that with less stale air and bloodloss might not have sounded like a scared whimper. Those were the proximity alarms. The ship had come out of hyperspace and had plunged pilotless straight toward the destination.

This old rustbucket had been a interim replacement for his old ship until he could get a real vessel of worth.

It had no voice commands, no command install keys, no lifelines to the cockpit for emergencies. The only way to pilot it would be to get to the controls, and it was already too late for that. He could already hear the atmosphere shrieking outside.

If he hadn't fought her or overslept he might have made it to the cockpit in time, but he could analyze his own state. He could barely move. All he could do was prepare for impact.

He grabbed Yillani and dragged her into an old cargo cage for bomas, locked himself in with her as the ship descended rapidly, and began to pray.

Scarcely a half minute later the ship gave a rather anti-climactic noise as it slammed into a large dune of sand. The nose tilted toward the sun and half of the vessel was submerged. The engine whined and strained as the grains solidified in the backwash heat, making it impossible to plunge further through the now-glassed vertical heap, and the cage collapsed in broken segments.

The Echani woman had remained unconscious to that point, having been well and truly bludgeoned into damaged recovery despite her lesser wounds, but now slowly awakened with the stimuli of the crashing and rattling movement. "What in the galaxy…?"

"Draw apparently meant crash. I assumed it meant share the ship," the disoriented man growled, then shook his head and began removing his shredded remaining clothing to tie the mutual wonds. "Lemme… fix you up… But first armor so you can't… get your hands or legs around my…"

He unlocked the remaining section of the cage and staggered three steps up the twisted, crumpled near vertical slope, then was halted in his movements by the ship rocking and the weight shifting. The Mandalorian howled, slammed backwards and down into the wall beside the dazed Echani in a broken head, and received heavy added insult to injury when his loose armor rolled off of the table upon which it had rested and struck his body in repeated metal barrage. He was unpleasantly surprised to still be breathing after being largely squished atop prior stab wounds.

The result was passing out temporarily and bleeding from his orifices.

Yillani hauled her tired body into motion and worked to unpin her captor from his armored heap, ignoring her own wounds to get him out of danger, and growled at his ear loudly. "Now's not the time to be giving up, Mandalorian."

She staggered as the ship shook, going to her knees, and dragged him to a stable bulkhead by his armpits. He awoke, twitching, and blinked up at her. He whispered, "You could be getting away, Echani…"

The glass mound was too heavy for the surrounding sand and continued to shift. The ship slowly slid and leveled almost horizontally again as the sand atop and around it balanced heavier than the sand on the other side, though the glass below remained more dense and threatened to jerk it vertically again. And then the engine stalled, jammed, and died at last.

A complete stop and a completely abysmal one.

Yillani looked down at herself and leaned against the wall. "Not in these conditions. Besides, you won the duel."

She hid her bright eyes behind her lashes as she closed them tightly. "I did not."

Jakaan spit bloody bile and spoke louder with heavy if slightly grudging respect. "You were by far the better warrior. In all things, from blade to footwork to grappling. I was simply fortunate. Thank you."

He listened quietly for a time. "Nothing moving outside. Ship should have stopped."

The Mandalorian made a hard effort to stand and succeeded, continuing to blink off the dizziness. "Time to bandage ourselves up. Good think- thing- my vod are gayiyli -ah, doctors- and keep shoving medical supplies at me every taylc time we get together."

He staggered very, very slowly for where the items in question had been kept prior to the crash and impact.

The Echani waved her hand and remained almost plastered to the wall, so still was she. "Fortune is as much a part of a battle as skill. You are welcome. Where did we crash?"

"Not Eshan, apparently. I don't recall any deserts on Eshan. It was an Ice world, wasn't it?" the dazed man asked, then retrieved a medkit and lifted her shirt off to begin applying it. "I programmed in Eshan, but it was sand we crashed into. And I would prefer to call it a draw- that did not feel like winning."

Yillani lay back while he worked, keeping her eyes closed even while helping him to remove her clothing for medical tending. "Eshan has more than just ice. It's varied in climates."

She opened her eyes upon him calling it a draw and took on a reflective tone. "In the case of a draw… we did not decide that earlier."

"We did not. I propose in the case of a draw having a non-aggression pact, at least until or unless we reach a city. I don't try to claim you for 'winning', and you don't take your escape-free chance until you're somewhere you can actually blend in for 'winning'," Jakaan proposed, then injected bacta into one of the burns and began to sew a stab.

"That is fair," the woman sighed, then leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes once more. "How long is it till the nearest city? Is the ship salvageable?"

He made a shushing noise at her. "Easy. Eshan is your world. I'll check my maps when I'm done patching us up the best I can."

He replaced her shirt, then tied off the injuries of her arms and legs with proper bandages and began to work on himself.

The Echani waited until she was completely tended to and ignored the remaining pain of the wounds. "Alright."

Jakaan checked over his armor to ensure that it was undamaged, then donned it with a greater relief than his largely crippled body could express and continued to stubbornly move about. "Have a holomap and painkillers. City isn't too far. Five hundred klicks, tops. Ship's a bit dead, though. Repairable, but I don't have the time or parts or inclination."

Yillani was no longer paying attention and had assumed sleep behind her closed eyes. Jakaan gathered all of his weapons and supplies that had survived the loose landing, then began working on breaking open the sealed hatch to the outside. When that was done he began working on setting the engine in motion again. Come morning the Battlemaster was awake and staggering around the ship, looking for painkillers amid her groans, and holding her shoulder stiffly.

There were unfortunately none and had she asked the Mandalorian would have had no idea where they were, nor did he know that she was looking at the second; the medpack was already exhausted and he had not found more. After some time she have up and searched out the man instead. "Any progress?"

"Well, it's not getting off the ground, but we could speedboard it on the ground to the city. Could do terrible things to the armor and engines, but I've just decided I don't like this rustbucket anyway. Or we could walk to the city in our current state through the desert without provisions. Your choice, really," he grumbled. He hammered on the device and brushed dusty gassy gunk out of it. The heat was sweltering.

Yillani spared a glance at him and stalked out of the way, then sat almost primly. "I would rather ruin the ship than walk through the desert, thank you. The Echani do prefer cold."

Jakaan shook his head and continued to work, then set up a 'wind shield' of spare cloth. He continued to clean until convinced it would run again without glassing and detonating. The pair retreated inside and he started the ship up in a forward thrust. "I'll be sitting on the roof with my armor's magnetic clamps. If you don't mind sitting on my armor's lap, you're welcome to join me up there. The floor plates are liable to shred if there're rocks."

Yillani got up again with a sigh and followed him. "I mind, but I mind less than the alternative."

She wound her way up to and through the hatch, moving slower than the armored man thanks to her shoulder complicating climbing, and curled up in the sealing grip as the ship began to plow the desert ahead. Jakaan clamped around his target like a strange starfish of metal and waited all of an hour to satisfy his curious query. His voice could barely be heard over the screeching noise. "Do you have a family, Yillani?"

Her response was flat and emotionless as her face. "No. They were killed."

"Ah. Have any experience as a parent, Echani?" he pressed further. There was something broken in the way she moved. There was something defensive that wanted to lose deeper still. There was something that bespoke a source of strength and pride now become a weakness.

It was subtle and hard to see in the shifting neutral white face and pale absolutes of her face.

"… Once," she whispered as she looked away from him as best she could with only an empty expanse to look at otherwise, "A lifetime ago."

"Thought so," he replied quietly. "Echani aren't the only ones that study and read opponents."

"Tell me, truly. The claim is that you murdered a Jedi Knight, and that's why the bounty is so high. I've seen no Jetti after you, and as lethal as you are, you don't seem the murdering type. Sure you would kill me, but you'd do it in a fight," Jakaan declared inquisitorially, "not through murder. Sympathy, and the fact I hate being played, leaves me wondering if the bounty and your family dead is connected. Why ARE we being paid to pursue and claim you? What's the real motive?"

The Mandalorian folded his arms tighter over her and listened to the shriek of the shredding metal and engine. "Or have I entirely misjudged you?"

She stared into the distance and sighed deeply. "My family guards knowledge about a number of ancient holocrons. Sith Holocrons. The Jedi I killed had fallen. I didn't want to do so, but… she brought it upon herself. There is someone out there that wants that knowledge. Knowledge no one should have."

Her voice was quiet. "And so my family and my life were destroyed."

He eyed and reappraised her. "That makes a fair amount of sense, especially in light of what you are. I never back out of a deal, but I'm not averse to making new ones. And I'm out one ship. Might be able to hand you over, get the fifty thousand, and promptly snag whatever yes-man is actually delivering the money. Stall your pursuers and make them think they have you, get paid, set you loose. Maybe even rob their office a little."

Jakaan shrugged. Doing so without letting go was not an easy task. Doing so without letting go in metal armor with the ship ripping asunder underneath and injuries was… less simple still.

Yillani shook her head, white hair flying, and all but growled. Sympathy was neither wanted nor considered. "What would be better would be to turn me in, get the money, and promptly arrange for a way to have me out of the picture permanently," she said with her mouth set in a thin line like a gash in her lovely face, "You would get your money and the client would never get access to the holocrons. There would be no reason to worry about it- the knowledge dies with me. Any other way would simply mean more bounty hunters."

He bowed his helmeted head at the bereft young parent in his arms. "You want to die?"

She bowed her own, sorrow running through her silvered tones like a waterfall along a river stream. "My death is the more practical solution to the problem. I have nothing left to live for."

The Echani shook. "I do not wish to die. I do not know if I wish to live."

His voice took on a hard edge and a fair bit of sternness. "Death is a permanent solution, not a premium one," he growled, and observed the city now finally looming close. "There are ways to reinvent yourself. You're a warrior. You're young enough. You can learn."

Jakaan disengaged the magnetic clamps, ensured his grip was tight, and activated his own battered jetpack moments before the ship crashed into the city wall with a resounding thud and several cracks along both objects. He set down in the wake and watched the explosion. "There. Now we've made an entrance. We're here."

He set down and set her down. "But if you insist on dying, have you anything you would prefer to do before I turn you in? We're at the city," he stipulated, "and the neutrality deal I upheld explicitly said 'until the city'. But despite the portrayals of some cultures, my people aren't always heartless monsters, and I intend to find a different solution."

Yillani distanced herself from him and looked at the armored man with a tired expression. "Then what? I don't intend to continue living my life on the run, constantly fearing the arrival of bounty hunters. If there's a solution, I haven't thought of it yet, and I've been thinking a very, very long time."

The Mandalorian gave an exasperated huff and crushed his hand into a fist. "This is why, other than the fact you run around like fae-dancers showing your shebs, Mandalorians defeat you lightweight Echani in every single war."

Jakaan tapped his t-visor. "Can you see my eyes? Can you see my face? Can you hear my voice, really, through the speaker system and the amplifier distorting it?"

He patted her head. "I may or may not be a di'kut for challenging a better warrior on her terms and almost losing, but as a Mandalorian, I at least know how to use my head," he laughed wryly, "other than in the literal sense of knocking us both out. Our cultures aren't that different, you know. Yours just has much more etiquette and rules instead of thinking and innovation."

The man knelt to stare visor-to-nose at her. "You're a bright woman. Surely you can see where this is going. Be a new warrior. Be a shadowed face inside a helm. Be a hunter instead of the hunted. Invent a new life instead of casting aside the old one casually from despair."

He tilted his head at the Echani he was pushing. "Unless you're more of a coward than I thought?"

She almost seemed for a moment like the prods and annoyance were pointless and that she would give in and cave. Her eyes fell to the ground and her shoulders drooped. "_Coward?"

Then her spine straightened and she leaned forward, getting just as close to Jakaan as he had to her. "I am no coward," she hissed, "I've lived with the burden of this knowledge like generations of my family before me. You may have strength of body, but I have gathered strength of mind- not something you could lightly gain by months of training like mere muscle."

She narrowed her gleaming eyes. "To throw away my heritage for a helmet seems trite."

Jakaan tugged her into the city, ignoring the bystanders beginning to gather, and ducked into a set of alleys to evade notice by the proper authorities.  "Whoever asked you to throw away your heritage? I said, 'Start a new life'. You think the Mando'ade don't take what they've learned with them? You think we don't integrate other cultures and utilize adopted members' knowledge?"

He eyed her. "Cin vhetin, Yillani of the Echani- it means once one has taken up the armor, their past does not matter anymore. Keep your heritage and affix it to a new one. One that I'll remind you has had much honor and many recruits from your old religion, and many, many wars. You even know parts of our language already."

He stared at her hard through the visor. "To throw away your life in place of simply putting on a helmet is, as you put it, trite. Besides, if it doesn't work out, you can always kill yourself THEN, Yillani Yusanis."

Yillani walked silently for a long couple of minutes, her face unreadable, and finally burst out in a most un-Echani manner, "I cannot comprehend why you would care about an Echani, particularly one that ought to be just money to you anyway, and one so determined to send herself away!

"In a way Yillani Yusanis will die here, won't she? No one will mourn my passing." She continued as she raised her chin, "I can learn to hide my secrets again- this time within a helmet."

Jakaan nodded, a grin hidden behind the visor. "Now you get it."

He began to hobble down the road, slowing his own pace as his body wearied faster. "Because Mandalorians are compulsive adopters, and truth be told, you're a far better warrior than I am. Mandokarla. I'll need a witness. Besides, it'll give me a legitimate reason to help you."

The man's red gauntlet lashed out and snatched a rather startled elderly fellow. Or at least he thought the Echani was old. It was hard to tell when their beautiful young also had white hair, some days, especially with blurry bloodlost vision. "You, there. Old fellow. This is my daughter, if I say Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad and she replies favorably back with the right phrase."

He swayed on his feet, hoping not to pass out or be dead by the end of this more than he feared the utterly startled broken parent and fugitive's rejection, though that ought to have been a legitimate concern in its own right. Yillani blinked and blinked again.

"Daughter?" she asked, doing her best to support the young man in his hobbling, "Right phrase?"

Jakaan waved a hand. "Never mind that. Bloodloos. MARRIAGE is the one with the other half of a phrase. With adoption just the buir says it, ad, unless the 'kid' rejects it," he explained while supported, "Though having a child a bit older than me is going to be interesting to explain to Serue, it should at least make life interesting. And so far no one knows we're in the city, so we should have time to head to a clinic and get patched up before 'turning you in'. Unless you want to scrap that plan. We could wait until the authorities I.D. the vessel and just arrest us both."

Yillani shook her head disbelievingly, though she supposed the chaotic man had some sort of method to his madness, or at least was following his culture's tenants in his own rather literal and haphazard way. "We'll talk about that at the clinic," she growled, pulling him toward that way, "and how old exactly are you?"

She could barely believe she was trying to save the life of a man that might have turned her in for money. On the other hand, she could barely believe any of this, and he certainly seemed to be more interested in helping than harming. A few stab wounds to both later, mind.

"Thirty earlier this year, why?" Jakaan asked. He moved a little faster in the right direction.

Yillani was silent for a moment and kept pace with him. "Three years younger. I'm three years younger than you."

The Mandalorian bobbed his head. "Ohh."

He nodded. "The head injuries and blood loss. Still, that fixes half the problem- maybe… I think?"

Jakaan entered the clinic and promptly had to strip his precious armor to be inspected and treated, to his chagrin. Yillani was whisked away once someone started tending to Jakaan before she could answer. Jakaan was patched up, re armed and armored himself, and lurked in the lobby when finally allowed.

Yillani emerged into the lobby several minutes later, looking better - if not any less pale - than before.

Jakaan cleared a private corner and sat, then waved her over.  "Now. Making a plan and talking about all of this. Can't just bull-rush in, even if that is more direct. And, frankly, I'd rather get your thoughts on the other important matter at hand."

Yillani was still somewhat dazed by how quickly everything had moved. She could still remember grocery shopping earlier the same week, even. "Handing me over should work. I don't think there should be anything to worry about right away."

The red armored man drummed his fingers on the wall. "And you have no problems becoming the adopted daughter of a Mandalorian you've already fought nearly to the death twice?"

He removed his helmet and stared at her. "If you can read me from my combats I would have thought you'd have objected more to it."

Yillani almost laughed. "I never intended on killing you in our duel. When you first were chasing me, I was too weak to properly fight - I wouldn't have been able to kill you. I just wanted to get away and tend to those wounds."

She  rubbed her shoulder absently. "I don't have problems. It's odd. In a few minutes I went from dying to having a new life."

She met the ginger haired man's own blue eyes with her lighter ones. "I read that you were honorable while we were fighting. You're a good person for being a bounty hunter."

"Shhhh, shhhh- my rep will be ruined if that gets public. |D I'm just called 'reliable' or 'trustworthy' by clients, not 'good'," the complimented new buir protested, "Alright, now to get an attack plan ready."

You asked for it. Rather literally.

I can only hope you enjoyed it or got what you wished for.

I'll be the first to admit this segment is somewhat dry.

If you dislike, my sorry.

And this still isn't the whole thing- including the Assassination and Run Like Hell parts would have pushed this past nine pages. |3 That comes next time in a short third part, if you still want to see it.

Yes, Mnem having written it does count as commenting. And it's in italics now to make it easier for me to read- eyes hurting. And in honor of finally revving up to finish the arc.