Those Who Fight

[Ender]

“You do not follow me because I am the strongest. Pax is. You do not follow me because I am the brightest. Mustang is. You follow me because you do not know where you are going. I do.” - Pierce Brown, Red Rising

Refuel Station, Hydian Way

There are few Senators who would ever be caught out in the open in the midst of a busy space station without a body guard, fewer still who would do it armed, and even fewer who would wear a full set of beskar'gam. And yet, here sat Tionas Skirata, alone, twin vibroblades strapped to his back and blaster carbine at his side. Of course the blue and white armor hid his identity well enough. His buy'che, or helmet, assisted in that task even further.

There was a soft thunk thud as the bracers slid onto the bar, the bartender looked up from his current drink, a blueish green drink that steamed as he handed it off to a nearby roadian. Tionas raised two fingers indicating he'd like to buy. A voice emanated from the helmet, tinny and electronic through the filter. "Tihaar?" Tionas voice was hopeful, even through the filter.

The bartender raised a gnarled eyeridge, an unmistakable sign of surprise, and then shook his massive head. "Ain't never 'eard of it, mate."

Tionas nodded his head, an interesting gesture to pull off in a helmet. It involved a much more exaggerated movement of the neck muscles, and younger warriors were scant to do it. Buy'che were not light by any means. "Firewhiskey then," the filtered voice came again. Today firewhiskey would have to do, not that it was a bad thing. No, firewhiskey had a certain burning that the Concordian Senator found refreshing. Cinarin tracyn. Cleansing fire. Good for the soul, keeps you awake.

Tionas languidly watched the bartender work, who was equally lethargic in his work. No matter, he was in no hurry. Just heading back to his senate offices on Chandrila after a week at the Skirata farms on Concord Dawn. Family was important, farms, doubly so.

There was a soft scraping noise that alerted Tionas to the arrival of his drink, the glass clinked off one bracer gently. "Sorry 'bout that, mate." The bartender did not sound sorry. No tip then. With an almost imperceptible shrug, Tionas blinked twice, brought up his HUD and paid the bartender for the drink. There was a soft chime, and the lizard barman looked down. This was followed by an annoyed grunt.

"No tip? Cheapskate."

"Write your senator."​

 

[Phil]

The door slid open as the thud of metal meeting the floor was heard, and the crimson armored entity entered into the establishment. While he did not enjoy mundane mercenary work, he had to eat and sleep like any other person did. The last job was low paying, but it fed him and got him a room for a few nights, and now he had a bit of spending money. He started his way to the bar, a few others clearing out of his way as he approached the bar, next what looked like a Mandalorian who he overheard ask for a firewhiskey.

"A good choice." He thought, then turned towards the grumbling bartender, tapping his metal finger on the bar counter to get his attention. "Make that a second firewhiskey." He said through his helmet.

While he was willing to drink about anything just to relax, CDR-382 was in the mood for something to perk him up; He had no real desire to sleep in this area unless he really needed it. He simply eyed the bartender to make sure he didn't spit in his drink or give him a dirty glass.

 

[Ender]

Pssssssshhhhhhut.

The seal on the Mandalorian armor broke, and a wave of smells washed over the senator. There was grime, oil. Not an unpleasant smell, well not to Tionas Skirata. Smelled like a hangar bay. Which is essentially what this space station was. An enormous hangar bay with a crumby bar and fuel enough for a small starfleet. And then there was the smell of the bar. Dankness, depression and just general poor hygiene. And, a soft aroma of...nuts?

The senator looked down and grunted in surprise. Nuts indeed. His hand lowered into the bowl, extracted one and popped it into his mouth. It crunched satisfyingly, and Skirata grunted in approval. This was followed by the burn of firewhiskey, which was an absolute osik make, but Tionas drank it all the same. After finishing the drink, which still burned in his throat, the Mandalorian slammed the drink down on the bar and exclaimed "Damn that was awful. One more."

On the second drink he turned to face his new barmate, allowing the armored man the briefest of glances at the eyepatch over his left eye, before smiling and swinging the glass in the man's direction in a cheers gesture, before taking a long pull. "Do they ever serve anything good on this heap of duse or is it all just garbage as this firewhiskey?"

"Hey!" the barman interjected, but was quickly cut off with a hand from Tionas.

"Piss off, mate."​

 

[Phil]

His own drink had arrived by the time the Mandalorian had removed his own helmet, and it was times like this he wished at least his helmet had a mouth port, but that would honestly be a waste of a function. Bracing himself, he too removed his helmet as it released a hissing release as he set the helmet to his right. Taking his drink and doing his best to ignore the sudden odors that the bar and no doubt the station was emitting, he returned the gesture the Mandalorian gave him with a nod and downed the burning liquor. Afterwards, he began to wonder if a dirty glass could have improved on the taste.

Shaking his head quickly from the burn, he pushed the glass away for a moment. "I suppose it can't be too awful if no one has died yet, from my knowledge that is." CDR-382 has been in some questionable places before, one being a brothel run by a hutt that had wines tasting like swill from the swamps of Naboo. Not that he has ever tried them. "Right now I'm wondering if that distinctive odor is coming from the back room of the bar or somewhere else." He said, noticing how quick the Mandalorian was to shutting down the bartender. Either he wasn't paid enough to clean up or he simply didn't care; neither were reassuring.

 

[Ender]

"Best to not find, I think," came the low, gravelly voice behind the glass. Another pull and he placed the glass on bar, and offered one gloved hand to his companion. "Tionas Skirata, Concord Dawn." As he turned to offer his hand he inspected the man, sizing him up, taking note of his armor and equipment. He was an impressive sight in his armor, and the Mandalorian was unfamiliar with the make. The man himself was a good deal taller than he, this man would make a formidable opponent. Or a valuable ally.

Behind the bar the bartender continued his leisurely work, now pretending to not hear the insults by the two armored patrons. Just another two weeks and I can pay off the last of my debt. Then Hapes, here I come.​

 

[Phil]

A small smile appeared on CDR's face at the introduction, then turned towards Tionas as he went to exchange the handshake, giving him a firm shake. This was turning out to be an interesting night so far... or day, he didn't really notice the time on the clocks. "CDR-382, from some glorious pit in the Outer Rim." He introduced himself right as his second firewhiskey came back to him. "If you could indulge me for a moment, what brings a Mandalorian to a station such as this?"

 

[Ender]

Tionas returned the handshake firmly, then turned back to his drink. "CDR-382? You a clone, sir? Or just a strange naming convention? No offense intended, of course." He took another drink and looked down at his nearly empty glass of firewhiskey and began to swirl the glass around and began to speak. "Farming, actually. Well, coming back from farming. My profession keeps me away from home quite often, hip deep in one of the most treacherous battlefields I've ever set foot in. The most treacherous, I'd wager. One misstep and it could topple everything. Farming back at home is a good way to relax, plus it keeps me back with the Clan."

"And what about you, CDR? You do much farm work in your life?"​

 

[Phil]

"Funny you mention that. It's a name I've had as long as I can remember, it came from an old text book depicting fictional soldiers from long ago, they all had numbers they went by, but they never spoke their real names despite knowing them. I technically never had a name when I was with my old merc crew, so I just chose the name of the soldier in charge and went with that." Which went to lead him into answering Tionas's next question about farming. Before that though, he downed the glass of firewhiskey as he placed the glass aside again.

"As for farming, I've actually considered it a few times. I never had much time to try it out when I was with a crew, but now that I'm out of it, I think it could prove to be an interesting subject. I just have to find the resources and funds to get it started." And it would beat working for the Hutts and corrupt politicians. He thought to himself. "As is, I find myself working job to job for some of the wonderful people you may have seen on your way into this bar."

 

[Ender]

Tionas glanced back towards the door to the shabby looking bar, then back at his companion with an eyebrow raised. "Watch where you place your loyalties, even if your loyalty comes with a price." So far, Tionas was liking this CDR-382, he could indeed be a useful ally. "Well, if you're free currently, I seem to be hounded by my, ah, employers, to hire a body guard. Now, I'm not exactly partial to this idea but if it'll give them a reason to shut up, the positions open."​

 

[Phil]

"A body guard? For you?" CDR looked Tionas a little; he had already got a good idea on what kind of person he may be, and while there may be more to it, it was not his place to ask. "I'm interested, though I have to say you don't seem the kind that would need a body guard. But if it gets me off this station and away from these people..." He started, glancing to the bartender, then back to Tionas. "... then I'll take it."

CDR could tell that Tionas probably seen other places and people then what CDR has seen, and he was actually more interested in going even if it was not a job.

 

[Ender]

Tionas gave a half smile, took a last drink of firewhiskey, and looked up at CDR. "It'll be a lot more than watching an aging Mandalorian, I promise you." Reaching to a pouch on his belt, withdrawing a stack of business cards. It was all in Mandalorian except for a single line, an address. Suite 200 1406 Presidium Way, Hanna City, Chandrila.

Tionas had to suppress a smile, a feat he was quite used to, and as such quite adept. The reasoning of course, was that this man had no idea who he was, or what he did. If he could read Mandalorian, he would know that the business card spelled it out for him. "Tionas E. Skirata, Republic Senator, Concord Dawn."

Instead, Tionas stood, withdrew a 200 credit chit and dropped it on the bar next to CDR. Behind the bar, the lizard barman's eyes lit up. "This is mo-"

"Shut the hell up, that ain't for you. Can't you see that we're having a business transaction?" And with that, the lizard glowering and 200 credits next to CDR, Tionas pushed his way out of the door and into the bustling spaceport.​

 

[Phil]

As Tionas took his leave, CDR picked up the card as he gave it a look over. As he tried to read out the line not in basic, he moved his other hand to take the credit chit should the bartender get any idea of swiping it when he would eventually grab the empty glasses. There was no doubt thieves and pick pockets in the station, and while he had no real pockets exposed, he did not want to be bothered by such distractions. He placed both the credit chit and the card into a pouch behind one of his armor platings, removing a different credit chit this time as he left it on the counter.

"Use this tip and find a shower." CDR told the bartender as he placed his helmet back on; It covered his drink as well as a small tip, even though he doubt the bartender would do as instructed. He felt humoring him slightly was well worth it as he hopped off the stool and started to make his way back to the flophouse he was renting out. He only had to grab his equipment and board the next ship heading to Chandrila.

More then watching an aging Mandalorian. He thought to himself, then pondered that perhaps this was the start of something both refreshing and worthwhile.