The Cousins Rezer

Posted on Mon Mar 2nd, 2015 @ 2:16am by Morgo Le'Shaad & Bomoor Thort & Sev Rezer & Zrad Rezer† & Nimo Lemere

2,613 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Jericho's Halls
Timeline: Following "Breath Before the Dive"

OLD


The grate rested on Berry’s head as she watched their feet leave. Or rather, boots. Nimo’s was covered in sharkskin leather, raised and rough yet fashionably sewn. Morgo’s heavy but quiet boots, whispering across the metal floor. And Sev’s scuffed but sturdy boots, probably hiding a dagger or
something equally awesome in the heel.

They walked, further and further away from her into who knows what. Well, she did know what since she could feel the presence of people…but who knew what was really waiting for them in the bowels of the fort, where no water magic or any magic would work?

Berry’s eyes widened and she tried to stand, her golden-green lips parting to say something—anything—to the departing party.

The doors closed and sealed with a loud, jeering hiss.

They were gone.


NEW

As the three Red Raptor crewmembers climbed down the ramp, it became clear to Sev that Zrad had come personally to see him. Or kill him, considering he had with him at least fifteen heavy troopers and three snipers over the the balconies. Either he fears me or he wants to show his power. Either way, I don't care. Now it's not the time. Sev pushed Morgo forward with some violence, making sure Zrad understood the role she played and as for Nimo... He expected Nimo to play his part well or be wasted right there.

The Mandalorian held his disgust at bay as he walked over toZrad's group. "Zrad of Clan Rezer. I salute you", he said formally. He looked around. "All this for me? Even after what we discussed?"

Zrad nodded. "Welcome, Sev of Clan Rezer," he spoke with a gruff voice. "You know I had to come to see you with my own eyes. I had to see the great Sev come to me. And these are my soldiers, my army. They are my blood. This is for you to remember that I am more than you think."

Sev held back the urge of gripping his gun over Zrad gloating. He's vain. Use the weakness, he heard Morgo's advice on his head. "It's a powerful group, Zrad. You've become more than you were, truly. I had come to you because its' time to put the past behind and look to the future of the Clan Rezer. To prove I'm true to my words, I brought this", he said pointing to the Red Raptor, "And her", he said pushing Morgo. "She's a scientist and she knows much. She can make this place stronger still".

"And she's feisty too?" Zrad said before giving a grin that would disgust the notorious Emperor Palpatine. "You hunt harder than before, Sev." He approach Morgo. "You. He says you can be useful. I can think of one thing a woman can useful for. Prove me wrong and show me what a 'scientist' like you can do." A calloused tongue ran across his teeth at the comment, scars stretching as his face contorted with some lecherous desire.

He's testing me and her, thought Sev.

Morgo stumbled forward from the abrupt shove, but straightened herself to face the infamous Zrad Rezer, in the flesh for the first time. As her wide, pale eyes scanned the Exile Leader, the scattered scars decorating his lined face were a numerous collection to behold. Built like a mountain, the knotted muscles of his body were no less imposing by virtue of being hidden under his thick, battle-tested armor—and in his eyes Morgo recognized the icy gleam of one who was touched by madness.

Morgo swallowed, her eyes quickly taking count of the entourage Zrad had brought to welcome dear Sev’s arrival.

“With these hands I can heal the wounded, and brew the most potent poisons and narcotics.” Morgo sniffed, eyes flashing with anger, “But I would sooner let your wounds fester and rot before I use my hands for anything other than wringing your neck, Mandalorian!” She spat with a vehemence, seldom seen from her.

The Exile soldier, Goro, lunged forward from Zrad’s ranks and gripped Morgo’s forearm with a crushing strength, before he mercilessly yanked her forward, so that she fell to one knee.

“If you can’t speak to my Lord with respect,” He barked down to the woman’s fury darkened face, “then I’ll take your tongue, woman—and your skilled hands.”

“Ah.” Morgo smiled bitterly up at the Exile gripping her arm, “So the grand, old dog Rezer does have fleas that will bite for him.” She snapped, knee throbbing from the impact on the floor, “It matters not. I will not serve any kin to Sev Rezer.”

With every minute that passed, Thane and Bomoor only crept closer to death, and Morgo needed to reach them before the worst of their injuries grew beyond reversing. With any luck, angering the man who held the keys might get her to them.

Nimo bit his tongue, a well-crafted lie held back for the sake of… of whatever Mandalorian customs Sev and Zrad shared. He glanced at Goro, noting the theatrics in his voice. Were they all like this here?

It wasn’t like Zrad was like this on purpose. No—such vulgarity and vileness could only be natural. The hulk of man radiated everything he hated in a person. Zrad reminded Nimo of his past captor, another equally-hulking Velusian, indenturing him and his village in exchange for his piloting talents.

Nimo gazed intensely at Sev. He was sure he could sell Morgo to Zrad intact, as part of the plan, but he couldn’t budge. Not without a permission from their “leader.” He smirked.

Zrad caught the Near-Human watching his cousin, but he barely gave the red-haired figure any note of recognition to his face. "This one's almost prettier than the bitch," he huffed with amusement, the Exile leader's sickly-thick breath flooding forward towards Sev. "I knew you'd gone soft since I left you with aruetii in the Bastion War, but still..." A sly grin that did not suit the older Rezer's features crept across his scarred face, goading Sev in more ways than one with his words.

The smirk on Nimo’s face instantly withered and died faster than a gasping fish out of water. The pirate could feel the water inside him boil, and he glared at Sev. Their leader better restore his credibility, or Sev was on his own with trying to keep Morgo alive. Not that Nimo faulted Sev for all the ill-will he could be experiencing now, but… the time for punches was for later. Right?

From her place on the floor, Morgo’s pale gaze slid from Nimo, to Sev, as she watched Zrad advance on them both. Happy to be ignored from the time being, the noblewoman used the opportunity to clutch her stomach and turn her face away. Locks of hair that had escaped their bindings veiled the grimace on her lips—almost a hysterical smile, had anyone seen it.

Force above, Zrad was awful. Whatever dignity he had once possessed as a Mandalorian warrior, had clearly left him long ago. Even looking at Zrad’s broad, muscled back in contrast to Sev’s slightly smaller frame, it was apparent that Sev was twice the man Zrad was. Morgo could only hope Sev remembered that, before rage blinded him to all else.

Sev buried his hatred in a shallow grave and gave no other indication that he'd acknowledged Zrad's prodding than an baleful blink of his eye, which took on a greener cast in the dirty light of Jericho.

"I am impressed, Sev," Zrad huffed, chest protruding, light glinting off the various crevices decorating his aged and augmented armour, only dulled by the odd stain and scuff. His voice had adopted a tone Sev had not heard for two decades. Though made hoarse through years of warring and abuse, the tone of Zrad Rezer was that of the man who had guided Sev, tutored and nurtured him in the Mandalorian ways. Weathered and twisted though he was by fruitless conflict and madness, here stood in part the man who had in turn made Sev a man.

"I have observed your deeds from afar, where possible," he said, like a father praising a son before the impending and expected admonishment. "Your name carries respect amongst those in search of a hired gun - of a man of war who wars only for the glory of Hutts and petty syndicates. Impressive, but pathetic. You come to me now to restore honour to yourself, your name... and the name Rezer... to become vod once more."

Not caring for the alarm and disgust it would cause in the younger Rezer, Zrad took a fast and long stride towards Sev, gripping his forearm tightly within his right hand's grasp. "Time to become a man, Sev," he said, before his more kindly, familiar tone slipped and gave way to one more hushed and menacing, suddenly pulling Sev forward, Zrad's mouth now beside Sev's ear. "But I am not yet convinced, adi'ika." He released his kin, pushing him back slightly with the motion, turning to his motley crew of Exiles, raising his arms in the process. "Let us see if this beroya can restore his honour, prove he is a true Rezer!"

Sev's skin had crawled to have Zrad's lips whisper in his ear, tickling the hairs there with his hissing breath. Closing his eye, in a moment of weakness, Sev clenched his jaw and willed himself to stand firm. When the green of his eye fell upon his wretched cousin, again, pandering to the crowd like a show peacock, Sev's gaze slid down Zrad's exposed back. Neck, spine, kidneys... Sev breathed deeply, and was silent.

Having let his words sink in for the moment, letting it be known that whilst his eagerness to welcome Sev into the fold was not falsified, but also that he would not be willing to trust another simply because of a shared history and kinship, Zrad turned his attention quickly to those accompanying his cousin. "Have the bitch taken to the cells; give the jetii something to enjoy before the end. Do what you will with her, but don't take long about it." That tongue slipped from his cracked lips once more, running over his rotted teeth before scurrying back into his cavernous mouth before his attention turned back to Nimo. "It won't be long before our final guests arrive," he muttered as he then gripped the Velusian's cheeks between his gauntleted thumb and forefinger. "And what of this red-headed beauty, then?" He demanded of Sev, spittle springing forth and crashing against Nimo's unshaven, youthful face. "A bedwarmer?" He mocked, not really paying any true attention to the Near-Human.

Behind Zrad, two Mandalorian men stepped forward and quickly forced their arms underneath Morgo's before she could begin to struggle. Pulling her body up so she stood on her feet, Morgo managed to wrestle out of one of the men's grasps, "Wahow there darlin'!" he smirked, revealing a severely disfigured face to the Dromachean captive, "Save yer' wrigglin' fer' later."

He re-captured her arm and placed it tightly under his sweaty elbow, pinning her close-enough against him to smell his rancid odour. He kept his dirty grin fixed upon her as they began to walk. His face was squashed and disfigured on one side as though someone had taken a large mallet to it; he wore a wrap around a missing eye and his nose bent sharply towards the same side. His remaining eye darted about Morgo's figure, not caring to hide his thoughts.

The sickly familiar, lustful glint in his eye sparked a reaction in Morgo's lower abdomen as she struggled against the hands dragging her away, like steel, clamped onto her arms. Instinct, long buried, roared to life in the woman's throat, straining hard enough that the tendons of her neck stood out under the pale skin of it. For a moment, Morgo's eyes darted about the walls of Jericho and the door to the hanger, now closed. Flashes of white tile speckled with red and water, replace Jericho for an instant. A ghostly feeling of cold metal biting into the naked skin of her backside shivered through Morgo, until she blinked and she found herself Back in Jericho.

"Vicious little bird, my sangrlark," a deep voice, a memory, echoed in Morgo's head. As she closed her eyes, Morgo felt the bite of panic nip at the edges of her control, and fought. "Little bird," the voice from a faraway cell had said,"You will survive this."

As they neared the exit from the hanger, her crude escort briefly glanced back over his shoulder to where his leader still stood, gripping the red-haired man by the face, "Rezer doesn't seem to much care about what happens to you. Seems we can have a bit a' fun this time." He let out a low chuckle as the doors slid closed behind them.

Releasing Nimo with a slight shove, amusement thick on Zrad's gravelly features, the elder Mandalorian stepped away from the newcomers to Jericho. "Not that it matters," he said, apathy intermingling with an element of anticipation. "If he knows how to use a blaster and is loyal to his masters, he'll prove his worth soon enough."

Sev stepped forward, eyes narrowed, "It matters." He said clipped, "If you cannot remember he has already proved his worth to Jericho before, under contract. Or does the alor delegate the important matter of his treasury to servants?" Sev seemed to ask no one.

Had Zrad not been so busy grabbing at the Lemere boy's face, the Velusian bounty hunter would have been able to get a word in about his purpose in Jericho. But perhaps Zrad did not care. Staring at Zrad with something hot in his gaze, Sev wondered just how the walls of Jericho stood, the careless way Zrad seemed to be handling his fortress. Sev shared a look with the molested Lemere pirate.

Turning his back on Sev and Nimo and entirely oblivious or uncaring to his men's uncouth treatment of the Dromachean, Zrad began marching towards an alternative set of doors that Morgo had been dragged towards, smacking his fist into the panel beside it to open them. Harsh sounds of metal scraping against metal filled the hangar as he spoke once more, "I must have forgotten to tell you; we have some rather important visitors coming to Jericho. We're having a party, Sev. And you're the guest of honour." He gestured towards the dark halls beyond the door, thick aromas wafting from deep beyond. "Tonight, the Cousins Rezer will dine and war once more, the first battle of many in the march to restoring the Mandalorian way."

Blue eyes blazing ever more brightly with the madness Morgo had sighted upon first sighting the hulking mass named Zrad, the Exile leader boomed, his body even seeming to shake slightly as he did so. "When they write the history books, dear cousin, this will be the day remembered as the first day of my reign... as the True Mandalore!"

Lightly fingering the rifle at his hip, Sev followed Zrad at a measured pace.

If this was the first day of Zrad's reign, the coming days would be Zrad's last. That, Sev vowed.


TBC

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