Tales of the Mandalorians

[Dieter Schprokets]

This was not going well.

Another blast of energy slammed into the bottom of the fighter. His opponent was not letting up, and Billy did not blame him.

Early on in the fight the lateral stability software had started acting up. Hard to shoot straight when you can't fly straight.

Sephardi, on the other hand, was shooting very straight indeed.

"Eat your wheaties today, Elder?" asked Billy over the comms.

No answer. His opponent knew how this was going, and was sparing no mind-time for banter.

I gotta remember to stop flying sober. I'm horrible at it.

A puff of smoke was his mainboard's way of letting him know it was fried. The cockpit lights went dark. That was the last straw.

Sephardi saw the fighter drifting, and knew to stop firing. No sense in damaging the prize.

The comms were still working. Billy switched frequencies before Sephardi had a chance to gloat. (Oh, and would he..)

"Mayday Mayday Mayday. Mandalorian Echo Fox Delta. I'm transmitting to advise that I will be a guest on Crete a few hours from now."

"Transmit to Karen Castillo. She is Acting Mandalore."

"Tell her to come get me. And not to lose too many pilots trying."

Elder Sephardi, with a well targetted blast, fried the antenna.

And that, as they say, was that.

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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.

"Sleep well, Mandalore...."

"Though I know I couldn't."

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