"MOTIR!", somebody yelled. The Mandalorian equivalent of 'Attention on deck'.
The Mandalore paused to receive the attention briefly, then waved and said "Sa norm'aim", roughly, 'at ease'.
He walked up to a Tridente Gunship. He put his hand on its hull.
"This vessel", he began, "belonged to Sagg'Tar'di, who has left us now for god knows where.."
He stopped and leaned on the frame.
"I have decided that this vessel shall belong to Simon Templar. You all know what this means."
They did. Well, the sober ones did.
"Only a Consul may fly a Tridente. And so, Mr Templar, I have here a signet ring for you."
Simon Templar stood forward and took the ring. He looked surprised. And then some.
"I do not know of a warrior who has established himself so thoroughly and so rapidly in our organisation. He has singlehandedly ensured the success of the contract against Kruger, and has secured himself access to allied weapons and ships, on the basis of his reputation for performance alone."
"I simply WILL reward perfromance like that."
He picked up a wrench.
"The rest of you...", he began, then swung around and threw the wrench at the crowd. It struck a hapless pilot on the head, and he dropped. Completely out cold.
"WILL START TO MEET THE STANDARDS OF OUR ORGANISATION. OR I WILL CALL SOME OF YOU OUT FOR COWARDICE. AND IN THE ENSUING DUEL, I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF."
The Mandalore left the room rapidly thereafter. Leaving behind a better-motivated throng.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- RECRUITMENT FORM
Name: Sebastian Rodriguez Age: 21 Birthplace: Malta Father: Miguel "Pocho" Rodriguez Mother: Jen O'hara
Notes: This form validates the person of Sebastian Rodriguez as new consul of the Mandalorian Mercenaries.
Mandalore William Bishop.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So explain this to me once again please, I'm sorry but this is somehow difficult to swallon" Dha said and continue "You said you were in a bar and that this man approached you and after some drinks he gave you this recruitment form and signed it for you?"
"Yes, something like that... I was impressed by the amount of wine he drank"
"Sounds like him..." Dha grabbed his head "aaaagggh... ok, if he was at the bar, he's probably sleeping at his office, his wife doesn't allow him to sleep in the house, she says it gives a bad example for their kids. So, let's clarify this situation with him, sounds cool?"
"Alright, we spent a lot of time talking last night, I'm sure there's not gonna be any problem"
Both of them walked accros the hall to Bishop's office, and Dha knocked the door.
"Wake up you stupid bastard! It's midday already!" Dha yelled to the door, they heard some noises from the door, something like liquor bottles, and a man murmuring some intelligible words.
"Alright alright, cut it off! I'm getting up... stop the torture", what could be defined as a Billy Bishop said. Then the door opened.
"Dha... what time is it?"
"Midday... twenty minutes to one pm"
"Why in the name of god you bother me at early morning?... and who the hell is that?"
"Hold on... you don't recognize this man? He came to my office with a letter signed by you saying that he's a freaking consul!!"
"Are you kidding me? I've never seen this man before!"
"Actually, you did, last night, we were in this bar and y-"
"Oh that... the bar, I totally forgot the bar, hey Dha, guess what, he might be saying the truth"
"Oh great, we are barely paying our bills, and now we have to pay for another consul salary."
"You don't get it, it was the wine! It's not my fault! Blame Gallia!"
Both of them were arguing without much sense when Sebastian whispered
"Ok, you keep talking, I'll walk around and find somewhere were to put my stuff"
Anila opened the door and "It's a bad idea" Sebastian said.
"Be still, otherwise I might miss, the bottle seems to be smaller after having drunk it." The young Simon blabled, with a pistol in his had and stinking alcohol off his pores.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Anila yelled to the supposedly two consuls. "Drinking in the conference room? And shooting bottles? Do us a favor and shoot yourself."
"Wow, relax Anila, we were joking we heard you coming... y-yes, we... have drunk a li-little, but... but... buuuuuut I'm not gonna shoot him" Simon started laughing, Sebastian did as well "Don't judge me so badly please..." Simon winked an eye to Anila and looked at his chair and pull it back a little to sit on it, but he tripped over a bottle and the gun accidently fired, the bottle on sebastian's head exploded, and a million of brown crystals falled to the ground.
Both Simon and Sebastian fell laughing desperately.
"This is too much, you almost killed him" Anila sit.
Mac came throught the door "Sorry I'm la... te... seems I missed the party"
Sebastian and Simon got to their chairs, Anila was quiet with the eyes closed, probably cursing Billy for going on "Transition", Dha taking his vacations again and Gra'tua... well, for being Gra'tua and being a freaking ghost.
Sebastian started talking "Alright, I guess we should start this... Billy left me in charge as you all know, I want to try something new... our old fighting squadrons need an update to include gunboats as an available option, currently the Alor'ads are the only ones who can use those, but it's not working, as it's the warriors who are out there most of times. Those same warriors are not prepared to be Leader of men, so promoting them to Alor'ads is not a solution, but it would be a problem. So, here's what I've been thinking, Senior Warriors, those who have proved to have skills to be in charge of a ship of these possibilities."
"We are a snubcraft organization, if we take gunboats out, they will be easy targets, and majorly it will hurt our traditions" Anila said.
"That they are allowed to take the gunboats out, it doesn't mean they will do it all the time, fighters and bombers still have the advantage in our job, the gunboats alone will probably be useless, but we need heavy fire out there in many ocassions, trust me on this one please." Sebastian said "In the worst case, it can be undone."
They were almost at the beach. It was dark, but he could hear the waves.
Bishop, and the man he knew only as "Hitachi" had precisely 12 minutes to get to the skiff. With that, they could get off this little island, and 20 minutes later, be at another nearby island where a Junker salvager was concealed.
In short, within three quarters of an hour, if all went well, he could be in space, well away from this prison camp, and within a day, out of Kusari itself.
One thing left to do. And Hitachi did not want to take the time to do it. Even if all this was going to make him very rich.
"There is another Mandalorian in the north hut, and we are going to get him. As agreed."
Hitachi shook his head violently. "NO! We are already late. You do not even know who that man is, nor even if he is still alive."
Bishop closed his eyes, giving the impression of resignation. Suddenly he grabbed Hitachi, threw him to the ground and pinned him there.
"Hitachi", he asked, like he was discussing the weather, "Do you have a family?"
The grunt he received in response confirmed that, yes indeed, the short skinny Blood Dragon did.
"Let me explain this to you,", continued Bishop. "You back out of this deal now; the ENTIRE deal, understand; and I will take a personal interest in exterminating your entire damn gene pool, when I do eventually get out of here."
The little man nodded, and Bishop let him up.
They slowly and cautiously made their way to the hut, about 100 metres north of their position. There were no guards posted at that location; such security was considered redundant, considering the locks on the hut, and especially the sharks in the waters surrounding the island.
Hitachi picked the locks with the motivation given by the knowledge that further delay amounted to a death sentence. Bishop entered the hut, and it took a good little while for his eyes to become adjusted to the reduced light in the hut. Eventually he made out a figure huddled in the corner, who sat up startled when he awoke.
"Who's there?" the figure croaked. Then the prisoner leaned forward into the moonlight.
Bishop's breath escaped him. The man was guant, and had clearly been mistreated, but there was no mistaking who he was.
Ranov'la Aran.
Former Bloody Mandalore Ranov'la Aran.
Who made it very clear in barracks language that he wanted nothing better, weakened state or not, than to put that hut, and that island, well behind him. His chosen phrase rhymed with "Get me the truck out of here!"
And so they did. And a certain Blood Dragon's bank account went up by three orders of magnitude.
[color=#33CCFF]Any particular reason for you feeling that way, Sebastian?
My mother was a slave, do you think that helps me to feel like this?
It is more important if it is you who think that, Sebastian.
Well, I kinda do, why would she let them take her as a slave, I'd have killed myself.
But if she would have done so, you wouldn't be here right now, right? Don't you think that counts for something?
No... she was weak.. my father beated her up so hard... and not only her, he beated us, my brother and I, and she did nothing to help us.
How was your relationship with your father?
The psyco shot me in the head.
Tough topic... tell me about your brother.
He didn't recover from the shot in the head.
I see... I imagine you miss your brother, right?
Not that much, somehow I got his stupid consciente wiht me inside my mind.
Pardon me? Could you repeat that please?
Am I whispering? He lives in my body.
I guess the rumours about cardamine aren't just rumours.
Do you think I'm a junky?
We are getting off track here, Sebastian.
Then start doing the right questions, Doc.
For my safety, I think we are done with the questions.
So, what do you say, Doc? I'm a wacko?
Well, you're considerably full of hate to your father, AND mother, no wonder why, she was a slave after all. And, you are suffering some type of schizophrenia, which I would like to work with you after the evaluation.
Don't you dare to call my mother a slave, I'm gonna cut your guts, you hear me?
Right... wacko.
The Mandalorian Psicologic evaluations are taking place at the Mhi'Motir, are the Mandalorians sane enough to do the job?
[color=#33CCFF]And you have selected this line of work, Mr Bishop?
Yes.
Do they know their father could be killed at his job? That he murders people for a living?
Technically, I do not fly many missions anymore, more a paperwork guy. So I only kill a few people a month.
The kid's, they are ok with it. The girls (they are so cute), they have little Kusari barbies that they set on fire.
........I think I'll set that little gem aside for now... You like to drink. A lot.
Yes. But I've cut back to hard liquor only, for my health. Too many calories in beer.
That is.. commendable. I suppose. What does your wife think of all that?
Which one? OOHHH, Suzanne. Ok.. She was happier when I didn't have energy bolts flying at me. But the house is paid for now, so...
I see. So you spend much time with the kids?
Yeah. In fact, just the other day I took them to a Mandalorian execution. It's done by something like a wine press. We caught one of the few remaining Dha'wherd trying to get into the barracks complex. We later learned it was the new cleaning lady. Ooops...
How did the authorities react to this?
We pay a lot of people outside our organisation. I'll leave it at that...
Do you feel that is moral?
No. Did you miss the part where I described our corporate services?
Good point... I have a hard time doing this for a paper-clip manufacturer in the morning, then you lot in the afternoon....
That's ok. A lot of people forget that sort of thing. Then they see a couple of us talking shop, and sometimes they puke a little..
Did you have anything else to add?
No, except to mention that if you interview any of my men and find them unstable, I need to know.
There is Consul Sebas...
Yeah, the Brother thing. I know. Not an issue...
He hears his dead brother in his mind... Not an issue??
Everyone needs a hobby.
... Ok.. I need to do something else now.. Same time next week, Mandalore..
The Mandalorian Psychological evaluations are taking place at the Mhi'Motir. Free Pie.
Skimming over that overly disturbing image...are you currently in a relationship?
I married the first girl that put her tongue in my mouth, then I realized I hated her. She was a really loud chewer.
What happened to her?
She died under mysterious circumstances...something involving a pineapple and Billy's bedpan.
Let's just skip this argument..
Let's not. I am seeing this girl now. We went on this perfect date.
This is going to be good..
It was good! She shot down my ship and almost killed me. I really think she's into me.
I'm sure she is. What are your prospects for the future?
Well, I think I'll keep dating this other girl.
Another one?
She really is making me work for the good stuff. Waiting 8 months to get laid...that's a first.
Waiting to get married first?
What? In 8 months she turns 18.
Think we should call this a day.
Before I go. Got any dirt on the other Consuls?
That is confidential information, mister Templar. But there is disturbing stuff going on, and I feel that people need to know it. Consul Rodriguez claims to hear his dead brother.
Ah, that. He's lying.
Do you think he's faking it to get some attention? That would..
No, but I have seen that guy too. No way those two are brothers.
See you on Sunday, mister Templar.
[color=#FF6666]The Mandalorian Psychological evaluations are taking place at the Mhi'Motir.
Out of beer.
They usually were. They seemed to fly better that way.
The bar at Barrier Gate was a rowdy one, and even by the standards of a rowdy bar, the Mandalorians were kicking it up a notch. Though no one had been arrested. Yet.
They sold a pill to alleviate the effect of hangovers. With a smirk, William Bishop replaced them with Tic Tacs. They did not deserve that, but then, with pranks, as with assassination, "deserve" seldom had much to do with anything.
Then he left the bar, walked up to the table, and spoke loudly enough to be heard. In that din, that was the same as being loud enough to frighten livestock.
"I REGRET TO ANNOUNCE..", he began, and dropped the decibels as the sentence progressed.
.."That Karen Castillo is no longer a Mandalorian Warrior..."
Dead Silence. Dead. Silence.
One did not leave the Mandalorians. Not if your heart was still beating..
A red-headed woman at the end of the table turned white as a ghost, and she looked at the Mandalore with no small amount of questions between the ears, and she slowly put down her Tequila.
Williams face went from deadly serious to a broad smile in a second, then he finished the sentence..
"since she is now an Alor'ad!"
A pause, then uproarious drunken laughter followed..
...and a redhaired woman made a shotglass-shaped mark on the Mandalore's head, from a distance of 10 feet.
Interestingly enough, the Mandalore realized his wife (also a redhead) had done the same once, in a very very different way.
At the end of the day, the tic tacs were by far the worst of the two pranks, or at least so said all their livers.
The cell was nicer than he'd expected. So was the chow. Unlikely to be human flesh, too. Though Billy could not tell what it was and did not want to dwell on the possibilities.
Sephardi had come, as expected, to visit. Billy was pleasantly surprised with the (relative) lack of gloating. And also the knowledge that they were most likely to ransom him, as opposed to killing him.
Being captured, by and large, was turning out to be less lousy than he had presumed. He'd have to try to return the favour by reducing, to some extent, the beatings inflicted on Corsair prisoners by the Mandalorians.
Then he came. Slim, dark, and very familiar.
"Dha'wherd Solus." Billy almost spat the name. The man sneered at him. The feeling was quite mutual.
"Mandalore. I am so pleased to see you. You have NO idea how much."
Billy stood up and faced his visitor. If there were no bars between them, this would not have been a conversation.
"You are supposed to be dead.", he muttered.
Dha'wherd Solus pointed at a scar on his neck, and shrugged.
"You should have hired more competent help, Mandalore." Billy did not answer. The man leaned in closer to the bars.
"They are saying they will not kill you. That you will be sold back to your lackeys." He stepped back and smiled grimly.
"I cannot live with that alternative, 'William', and I shall do everything in my considerable power to ensure you are no longer respiring before that happens. AND.."
He paused.
"It will not happen quickly, so help me Cay'lith."
He spun on his heels, and left, with a quick parting phrase that was almost delivered in a conversational tone.
![[Image: mmheader.png]](http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc267/dietersmeep/mmheader.png)
![[Image: siggy.jpg]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/668638083616342047/668993104837083156/siggy.jpg)
![[Image: Kyramur-Ehn_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Kyramur-Ehn.png)
![[Image: Aden-Kadem_small-1.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Aden-Kadem-1.png)
![[Image: Jurkadir_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Jurkadir.png)
![[Image: Traser_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Traser.png)
![[Image: Tal-Verda_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Tal-Verda.png)
![[Image: Malta_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Malta.png)
![[Image: Gra_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Gra.png)
![[Image: Droter-Kadem_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Droter-Kadem.png)
![[Image: Bretonia_small-1.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Bretonia-1.png)
![[Image: Liberty_small.png]](http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/sebarodriguez/Medals/Liberty.png)
