[right][color=a1a1a1][b]Cel, Lorn, Rask, Urh'otrr'kur[/b][/color][/right] [color=a1a1a1][right][b]Keldabe Administrative District // Mandalore[/b][/right][/color] [hr] Lorn finished shaking Cel’s hand and withdrew his arm back into his overcoat. He had barely acknowledged the young woman scream out at the blaster shot, as he was too absorbed with his own amazement at the stupidity of his underlings at the time. It is not a sin to be a civilian, so he would not blame his rescuer for being a foreigner to such violence. [color=#979A9A]“Thankfully I don’t need to see quite that much of Keldabe, I only need to find my way to the next round of diplomatic talks that are supposed to be held later tonight.”[/color] [color=EDC9AF][/color] Lorn turned to face the robotic voice and had to stop for a moment and think about what he saw. Two Tuskens were standing on Mandalore, talking to him in basic. Lorn had never heard of a Tusken leaving Tatooine, much less travelling across the galaxy to attend a festival. Lorn was honestly so surprised he was left speechless for a moment. Cel would stare for a moment at the Tuskens after they approached, she seemed almost flabbergasted at the sight of the two. [color=cyan]“I….Uh… You are Tusken… and… don’t you usually live on Tatooine.”[/color] She seemed completely taken aback that she seemed to almost forget what Lorn had asked. [i]How did they get here… why are they here? Oh man… they probably smell, I haven’t tried to see if they have.[/i] Rask wasn’t as taken aback by the Tuskens as his compatriots, having met their kind before years ago, and spotted them in the crowd earlier. Then one produced a translator droid and he was just as confused. Rask studied the Sand People with new eyes. He looked into the narrow pinholes, windows into what might be a Tusken's soul. He found nothing. A fetid miasma hung over the pair of robed silhouettes, either them or something they carried with them. Perhaps both, Rask considered. They were curious, though, and Rask indulged them. If only so they wouldn't bring their war clubs down on his head. [color=darkorange]"Just some drunk children, playin at soldiering. Nothin you need to concern yourself with. No, I'm sure they'll shape up now that he's here."[/color] Rask tilted his chin towards Lorn. People hadn't scattered at the gunfire. If Mandalorians ran every time a blaster was discharged, there'd be no one left on the planet. But the crowd thinned, perhaps sensing there were better places to be in case the Deathwatch made an appearance. Rask thought they had the right idea. [color=darkorange]”Why don’t we get a move on? Given the choice, I’d rather not have to explain this mess. Maybe we can take your new friend there to his party,”[/color] Rask said sidelong to Cel. A meeting of diplomats was just the right place to begin his hunt for Zi’Aii, and he wasn’t eager to tell the Deathwatch why he’d scrapped a droid in broad daylight and kickstarted a cantina brawl. Lawman or not. Cel’s eyes were moving over the Tuskens and their devices and examining if they are actually a threat or not. She nodded to herself. [i]About a 15% chance of them being a threat later on… of course you can’t put a probability on savagery…though it does seem that they have advanced technology that make them less savage…Or is it more their culture that could be considered the savagery. That’s interesting, I could probably write a paper on that.[/i] [color=cyan]“Hey, can I interview you guys later?”[/color] Cel would ask curiously with a slight smile on her face showing curiosity and interest in the Tuskens before she registered what they asked and what was finally going on. Her voice would go back to its cheery sound as she looked at Lorn. [color=Cyan]“Oh I can lead you there, most likely it’ll be the Mandalore tower, you’ll have to excuse me though I don’t have my ship and I’m not too interested in flying so we can take the back streets and roads.”[/color] She looked around at everything that had transpired. [color=Cyan]“If you told me this morning that I was going to watch a bar fight, meet a vice admiral and then promptly meet a couple of Tuskens… then I would have told you that you are insane. This truly is an interesting day!”[/color] Cel would look up at Rask almost like she was making sure he was close to her, these other two she didn’t trust fully, but he seemed to be honest in all that he has said and done around her. [color=cyan]“Come on everyone!”[/color] she said as she led the entourage. What a scene it must be to have this ragtag group following behind her. Urh’otrr’kur listened intently as the translator droid worked furiously to deliver what they had said, to transmit it to the little earpiece he wore. He could feel it slowly get hotter in his hand, too, something that made the Tusken want to groan in annoyance but he knew the translator would try to deliver that, too. So instead Roh'okr and he listened in silence to the foreigners through their little sphere. [I]Drunk children playing soldier[/i], that was the reason given. Were they on Tatooine, there the children knew their place and knew their elders. There they'd have respect for the rites that would make them into warriors. It seems that these people…one of them, at least, had no such respect. And they called [i]Tuskens[/i] savages. He snorted in derision. It seemed the man swallowed by a coat was some sort of leader among them…though not enough to chase after the children who were so disrespectful. Not enough to force them to stay, either. The Tusken chieftain looked the young man up and down with a critical eye. He didn't seem particularly upset by their disrespect…in fact, he seemed surprised. Of course, then the girl offered up…a talk? After being amazed by the mere existence of them, and vocally too, she wanted a talk? Urh’otrr’kur could tell the word she had used bore no equal in the Tusken tongue, the translator briefly grating in contemplation of how it would deliver such strange news. What did she want to talk about? Why did it have to be later? He could feel the droid heat up more in his hand, through the gloves, as it frantically worked. Roh'okr's eyes drew down to it as well, staring. He turned it off. [color=EDC9AF] [/color] Urh’otrr’kur struggled to not laugh, merely shaking his head again as he waited for the translator droid to cool down for more use. Normally it wasn't like this, but of course these humans had to use strange and different words the translator droid struggled to interpret. Why, why, he was not sure. Of course, then they got moving down and away to a…party? A celebration? Something of that sort. A meeting involving the strange chieftain. Well, might as well. Maybe Ro Nuul would be there. The pair promptly followed as well, though lagging some little ways behind. Rask heard the familiar low whine of jetpacks behind them as Deathwatch troopers touched down. He didn’t turn around to see as Cel led them through the increasingly narrow streets of Keldabe. He fell in with the Tuskens, leaving Cel to deal with the Imperial officer. They walked in silence for a time. As they exited the Refugee District and entered the city proper through an ancient gate, the architecture grew taller around them, the streets even busier. Celebrants roamed from place to place, all under the increasingly watchful eye of the Deathwatch, perched on balconies above them like some metal gargoyle. Not as much mischief here. Rask watched himself limp along in the glass reflection of buildings they passed. Finally he spoke. He wasn’t sure how much they could even hope to understand; as far as he knew, the Tusken language wasn’t extensively studied. Hard to study it, when everyone who speaks it tries to kill you. Still, he tried. [color=darkorange]”You two are a long way from home. Same as me, I guess. What brings ye this far out?”[/color] Did Urh'otrr'kur really want to tell them of Ambria, of their exit from home by those made beings? Did he really want to give too much information about the clan, and maybe leave them open to attack? Urh’otrr’kur gave a long pause before he tersely replied, a simple response that likely left much to be desired as they strode on. [color=EDC9AF][/color] Rask raised an eyebrow at this and looked the Tuskens over again, but found nothing he hadn’t seen before. [i]Patrons.[/i] Strange word for a Tusken to use. The Tuskens he’d met before wouldn’t have ever sought out a patron, but he supposed they weren’t a monolithic people. [color=darkorange]”Patrons, huh? I’d bet you might have some luck with the Mandos. There’s always some new clan or ally with them, and you could do worse for friends,”[/color] Rask said. [color=darkorange]”I’m bettin there’s a trial you’d undertake, ritual or some such thing, but nothin you Tuskens couldn’t handle.”[/color] A little flattery never hurt, in Rask’s experience. He wondered if his words were true; [i]would[/i] the Mandalorians accept Tuskens into their ranks? [color=darkorange]”How you two enjoyin city life? Me, I don’t like it worth a damn so far.”[/color] Rask asked. He couldn’t imagine they were keen on it either, but the Tuskens already surprised him twice and he was ready for any answer. Roh'okr spoke-up instead, braying out his disappointment in quick enough order. One hand clasped the handle of his gaderffii, gihaal long forgotten and discarded in a trash can. [color=EDC9AF][/color] The chieftain gave a long sigh, shaking his head. He missed it too, but wouldn't have been so eager to state that. It was an easy thing to state, complaints and whines for home. The man's first comments intrigued Urh’otrr’kur though, suggestions that there was some ritual or trial they could take, that they would be able to overcome it. The implications there weren't hard to see, seeing as rituals with the Mandalorians meant they would also be Mandalorians. It made him bristle. His tones, while in the Tusken tongue, were harsh and confrontational in more ways than one, sharp and fast. [color=EDC9AF][/color] Between the Tusken’s harsh language and the droid’s flattened speech pattern, Rask could hardly tell if he’d given offence, but erred on the side of caution. He held up his slender hands as if in surrender. [color=darkorange]”Alright, alright, my mistake. Sure, Mandos’ll be your friends. They’re a friendly lot,”[/color] Rask replied, knowing the translator wouldn’t pick up on sarcasm. [i]Tuskens joining Mandos? Drinks gotten to your head, old man? You’re short on ears and long on mouth. Think before you open that slack jaw of yours.[/i] Rask fell silent, letting the ambient street din fill the void between them instead. [hr] Cel would continue to guide them along the different paths of Mandalore, never seeming to stop and never seeming to have any second thought where she was going. In fact she was almost skipping and humming as she continued to move on. If anyone saw her eyes though they seemed to be darting all over the place. [color=cyan]“Upon reflection, it is truly remarkable to witness the convergence of diverse nations and people groups congregating here on Mandalore, united in celebration. The irony lies in the fact that this harmonious assembly is a fleeting moment in time, as these same individuals will soon become diametrically opposed adversaries, engaged in conflict and strife..”[/color] She’d say so gleefully and with a hint of a giggle. She smiled at the group before leading them down a dark alleyway. [color=Cyan]“Don’t worry this is a shortcut.”[/color] She’d say as she led them through the rotten-smelling alley to the other end. At the end of the Alley, you could see the Mandalore tower. It wasn’t in front of them, but it sure was closer than they had been. [color=Cyan]“Okay shouldn’t be far, maybe a 20-minute walk from here. So… anyone got any great stories?!”[/color] She half-joked. Lorn stealthily groaned as he was told the walk back would at least be another 20 minutes, shocked he had managed to absent-mindedly wander his way so far from his captors. He would likely be torn a new one after all this time, doubly so if he was late to the diplomatic dinner. As his guide suggested some storytelling, Lorn stayed quiet and let one of the others talk. Basically growing up a child soldier does not lend itself to having fun stories to share on a leisurely walk. The young admiral merely attempted to stay focused on the long walk that was now beginning to wear on him. As the silence grew, Rask decided to speak up. [color=darkorange]”Shore, I’ve got one for ye, if you don’t mind old war stories.”[/color] He’d told it a thousand times to a thousand audiences. It hardly felt like something that actually happened to him anymore, as if the truth faded each time with the retelling, but those who heard it still enjoyed it. [Hider=Rask’s Story] I used to ride with an… Unsavory lot of rebels, I don’t care to tell ye. But they fought the Seps, and that was enough for me at the time. We was out on the Rim, some backwater [i]hellhole[/i] with no name. Lookin to knock out this CIS listening post. Whole planet had a kinder gravitational interference field or some such thing, and anything with a repulsorlift wouldn't run. No speederbikes, no nothin. Well, we done what we come to do. Blew that place sky high, real pretty sight. That was the easy part. So us and this squad of clones, we were hoofin it to the rendezvous point. Bout a day of easy walkin. Course, it didn’t work out like that. See, the Confederacy, they didn’t much care for us smashin their toys. Can’t imagine why. So they came after us, and hard, ridin on those Hellfire droids and snail tanks and every other damn thing in their arsenal without a repulsor lift. We cut up into some hard country, hopin they wouldn’t follow. Of course, they did follow. The thing about droids is, you ain’t gonna outrun’em. I don’t care how quick ye are. Them bastards are slow, sure, clumsy even, but they don’t sleep. We’d march ahead of’em all day, only to wake up with them nearly on top of us when the sun come up. We fought’em at a ridge, thinkin we could maybe just scrap the whole lot. Well, we fought and fought till we were about all dried up, only six or seven shots per man left. Stupid. That weren’t enough, and they just kept comin. So we kept runnin. Those of us that was left. Clones didn’t make it. Brave bastards, them. Pretty soon we found ourselves scalin a damn mountain, full of switchbacks and rockslides. We could see the droids right below us sometimes, and we’d commence to hollerin and cussin and throwin rocks for all the good it done. We came to the top and thought our luck’d finally run out. We’d have to go down the other side now, and then those droids would pick us off like womprats now they had the high ground. But we weren’t alone up on that mountaintop. I saw this woman, a Twi’lek. And there she set. No ride, nothin. Just her and her legs crossed, smilin as we walked up. Like she'd been expectin us. She’d an old canvas kitbag over the one shoulder. In the bag was a brace of blasters and a good assortment of thermal detonators. She didn’t even have a canteen. It was like... You couldn't tell where she'd come from. Said she heard we was in a spot of trouble and dropped by to help. Don’t rightly know where she heard that from, but we weren’t about to turn her away. That woman, she told us if we listened to her, we might live to see another sunrise. That sounded fine to us. She collected all our blasters and power cells, save mine. Piled’em up in a big stack at the rim of the mountain, long with her gear too, like some battlefield cairn. Hardly said a word. I looked over the cliff below. I saw no more of the droids, for they were come under the lee of the mountain and were somewhere on the slopes below us. Close. This woman, she had the rest of the survivors run down the other side of the mountain. Run, she said, run for your lives. Don’t wait. Not me, though. I was to stay with her. We sat up by that meager pile of ordinance all night, listenin as the droids got closer and closer. Come sunrise, we saw’em. Hundreds. I seen what she had planned. It was a stand, what it was. I weren’t too keen on it, but them folks we was buyin time for were like family. So it was alright by me. Our lives for theirs. A fair trade. She turned to me with this smile, and she says: get to work. I didn’t need no second invitation. I rained hellfire on them down there, blaster in either hand. I was a deadeye back then, and they must’ve thought there was forty men shootin at’em the way I carried on. Didn’t do much good. All the meanwhile she just set there, crosslegged, calm-like. Reloadin blasters and handin’em to me as need be. I weren’t sure why she stayed behind in the first place, seein as I was doin all the shootin. They was almost ontop of us when this Twi’lek, she pulled me back and started yellin out to the droids. All dead! All dead save me, she called. Have mercy on me. It set them yappin on the slope. They were scramblin up double time and she told me to turn and run. Didn’t see the point in it, but we ran the both of us. We come to the other side of the mountain, only a few meters away, and saw the first of the droids peakin those narrow little heads over the rim. She stopped and her face got kinda calm, like she were thinkin real hard. Weren’t half a moment later, the whole rim of the mountain the droids were climbin up started fallin over, crumblin. Then the thermal detonators and all that ordinance piled up went off. Woulda brought a tear to your eye. Seemed like half the damn mountain collapsed right ontop of them droids, all crushed in one big avalanche, and we had front row seats. When all was said and done, there weren’t a single droid intact at the foot of the mountain among the gravels. That woman, she saved the whole sorry lot of us. Got the hell out of there and never saw her again. Didn’t even get to say thank ye ma’am. Weren’t until years later I learned who she was. Aayla Secura. Don’t know how she came to us that day, and don’t think I ever will. Heard she ain't been seen since Knightfall. But if I ever find that woman again, first round’s on me. [/hider] Cel smiled as she listened to Rask’s story, she began to giggle at the end as she turned and spoke. [color=cyan]“Rest assured, I will hold you accountable for your promise. My exceptional memory ensures that I never forget important commitments, so you can trust that I will always remember this.”[/color] Cel said, giving Rask a wink before giving this band of misfits a smile and turning back around to lead her rather strange entourage. Rask laughed. [color=darkorange]”I don’t doubt that you will, ma’am.”[/color] By the time his tale ended, the group was swallowed by the shadow of the Mand'alor's Tower in the afternoon sun. The streets surrounding the tower were filled with minor nobles, diplomats, wealthy merchants, and every other person from throughout the galaxy trying to scrape their way to the levers of power. Deathwatch guards patrolled the streets relentlessly, ensuring there would be no trouble in this opulent part of Keldabe. City workers were still setting up the final preparations for the festival to take place that night. Cel would look up at the large tower and smile as they got closer and closer. She would turn to the group, [color=cyan]“Well, here we are! Try not to upset anyone while you’re here! I’ve had so much fun! But this may be it for our merry band of misfits!”[/color] she would twirl around and start heading for the front doors as if to show them inside, there was a guard who held up his hand for her to stop but she held up a badge and he immediately dropped his hand as she walked to the front doors and opened them. [color=Cyan]“Perks of being a bureaucrat.”[/color] Rask let the other two enter as Cel held the door and paused. [color=darkorange]“I believe this is where we part ways for now, Ms. O’Royal; I got a few things to do before wandering into this krayt’s nest,”[/color] he said, idly thumbing H1-VOK’s ruined memory chip in his pocket. [color=darkorange]”I’ll catch up, sooner or later.”[/color] Rask tipped his wide-brimmed hat as the heavy doors swung shut.