Post by Laughing Man on Jan 20, 2011 2:02:58 GMT -5
The Kata encampment was nestled neatly into the Choruk Cerare or, "Stone Mountains", of the Northern Hemisphere of Mandalore Prime. It was a place where members of the clan could sit with family, eat at the large tables in the dining area, celebrate life and mourn death, or just have a place in which they could remove their helmets without fear of being attacked or their identity revealed. Most members of Kata were adept spies, and guerilla warfare specialists, which put them on a few lists for some targets over the years.
This was where Vhe'tra found himself now, chatting with one of his best friends, and ori'vod, 'Zara' or "Z'ika" as Vhe'tra dubbed him, mostly to piss the Amaran Mandalorian off as much as to show their fondness of each other. They'd been through Haran and back, watching over each other to make sure both made it out alive. They drank a bit of Ne'tra Gal -"Black Ale" - as they shared stories of their recent adventures,
"So I double back to the control room, and there's this bear of a man standing over the console tapping away. He wasn't there before, and I'm sure he'd have heard the shots; the state room wasn't far from the area. So I call out to the guy and he's completely surprised by my presence. I asked him what was going on, and he argued that he could ask the same. Can't blame him for what he did next, I mean, " The Amaran tilted his oddly-shaped mug that would accodomdate his muzzle and took a swig,
"...in the same situation, I would have pulled my blaster, too. It was just his fault for being too slow on the draw. So after putting the shabuir down, I dragged the shabla crate across the entire beam of the ship, down two decks, then made it to the hangar and left with 750 free credits and some custom blaster that the old guy who hired me paid 2g's for. Shabla aruetiise never cease to find new ways to show how empty-headed they can be." Finished Zara as he took another swig and gestured to the Bartender to fill his mug again.
After a bit more talking, Zara mentioned some kind of job he had to do and made ready to take off,
"K'oyacyi Z'ika, bal ke kaysh pirunir sur'haaise!"-Stay alive Zara, and make their eyes water!(Beat them down hard)-called Vhe'tra as the other Mandalorian's speeder fired up and roared off down the lonely trail that wound around the mountain and down into the city of Parjai Petir - Victory Center. Though the city was Vhe'tra's target tonight, not Zara's. Zara would be heading off planet for some recon.
Vhe'tra slid his own buy'ce-Iron helmet- on and made for his speeder, a simple model with no real outstanding feature that could be purchased for cheap anywhere around the galaxy, and headed down to the city. He had a goal tonight. Kebii'tra, Alor and leader of Clan Kata had decided it was time they took an interest in this brewing war. Everyone had heard about it, and it was much of the talk around the towns, depending on who you spoke to it could be praise of damnation of the thing. Some argued it was too soon, others that it had been far too long. But no matter what the general opinion was, everyone had heard of it.
____________________________________________________
The dust kicked up by the repulsors on the bike settled to cover the area in a nice, thin sheet of dust, including Vhe'tra's black, green, and orange-patterned armor. There was a shudder as the last of the speeder's components whined down to leave the sounds of the night to themselves. small animals scurried and carried on with themselves, a few Mandalorians clad in all manner of coloration and design of armors made their business and went on about themselves. It was a quiet evening, but even so the local cantina was a raucous of activity as sounds of music and drunken laughter rose to contend with the howling, whipping winds that tore through the streets.
It was in this direction that Vhe'tra made his way, hoping to find someone he could talk to that would lead him to his goal of finding a way to get his clan listed with the rest of the army. Though not know as frontline fighters, the forces of Kata were adept at sneak attacks, espionage, and subterfuge, which Vhe'tra was sure would be useful for the first parts of the war. The outcome of a war always hinged on good intel, and the ability to keep your enemy guessing what your next move was.
As the lone figure of Vhe'tra neared the cantina, a light mountain drizzle began to coat the city in water, softly feeding the plants and animals with the vital substance.
He entered casually, nodding to a few patrons closest to the doors who simply nodded back and went about their business as Vhe'tra did the same. The first thing anyone ever did in a cantina was talk to the bartender - that was where the action was always to be had. And so, following this simple guideline, Vhe'tra did just that with an armored elbow resting on the counter,
"Su'cuy vod. Tion lise ni dinui gar?-Hello brother. What can I get you?-" Inquired the rather portly Mandalorian behind the counter, whose armor was colored a deep red-orange mix,
"Ne'tra gal. And... Some informati-"
"Ahh, of course. One thing at a time, vod." cut in the man turned around to remove a fresh mug and fill it from the tap with the black ale,
"Now what were you saying about information?"
"Not much, I was just wondering if you knew where I could find an official representative of the Mand'alor, or something similar. Need to talk with one." Explained Vhe'tra. The other man's face contorted with thought a bit, but then shook lightly,
"I'm afraid I've nothing. You might have luck with the patrons. Though, maybe you might want to finish that drink first." gestured the 'tender to the mug before going about his business. Vhe'tra offered a nod back before removing his helmet and setting it gently on the bartop in order to enjoy his drink, listening to the different tables talk amongst themselves.
One table had a rather old man, which was rare in the Mandalorain community, telling a tale of valor and courage to what seemed to be his grandchildren, since they kept referring to him as "Be'buir", but that could just be an affectionate nickname. Didn't make much difference to a Mandalorian anyway, bloodline was of no real concern.
Another table nearby had a loud, arrogant man describing in great detail, to some females, about how he captured some bounty or another. From the way the females reacted, he was beefing it up a bit, though when one of the females started telling an even more impressive story, Vhe'tra laughed at the humbled Male's stuttering response.
The city of Parjai Petir wasn't as well known as Keldabe or Enceri, but it was a bigger bump on the map than the small farming or mining communities that dotted Manda'yaim's landscapes. So it was a pretty safe bet that someone here would know a thing or two.
Patience, you'll find something. Night's only just begun.
Though Vhe'tra to himself as he leaned against the bar with the mug in his hand, casually surveying the area. There was a heavy isotope band of some sort in the corner on a small, raised platform playing some tune that sounded like 'Vode An' if your head was being put through a blender with nails. He almost wanted to join in, but this thought was quickly replaced by thoughts of the attractive female Mandalorian who was chatting with a few of her friends.
This was where Vhe'tra found himself now, chatting with one of his best friends, and ori'vod, 'Zara' or "Z'ika" as Vhe'tra dubbed him, mostly to piss the Amaran Mandalorian off as much as to show their fondness of each other. They'd been through Haran and back, watching over each other to make sure both made it out alive. They drank a bit of Ne'tra Gal -"Black Ale" - as they shared stories of their recent adventures,
"So I double back to the control room, and there's this bear of a man standing over the console tapping away. He wasn't there before, and I'm sure he'd have heard the shots; the state room wasn't far from the area. So I call out to the guy and he's completely surprised by my presence. I asked him what was going on, and he argued that he could ask the same. Can't blame him for what he did next, I mean, " The Amaran tilted his oddly-shaped mug that would accodomdate his muzzle and took a swig,
"...in the same situation, I would have pulled my blaster, too. It was just his fault for being too slow on the draw. So after putting the shabuir down, I dragged the shabla crate across the entire beam of the ship, down two decks, then made it to the hangar and left with 750 free credits and some custom blaster that the old guy who hired me paid 2g's for. Shabla aruetiise never cease to find new ways to show how empty-headed they can be." Finished Zara as he took another swig and gestured to the Bartender to fill his mug again.
After a bit more talking, Zara mentioned some kind of job he had to do and made ready to take off,
"K'oyacyi Z'ika, bal ke kaysh pirunir sur'haaise!"-Stay alive Zara, and make their eyes water!(Beat them down hard)-called Vhe'tra as the other Mandalorian's speeder fired up and roared off down the lonely trail that wound around the mountain and down into the city of Parjai Petir - Victory Center. Though the city was Vhe'tra's target tonight, not Zara's. Zara would be heading off planet for some recon.
Vhe'tra slid his own buy'ce-Iron helmet- on and made for his speeder, a simple model with no real outstanding feature that could be purchased for cheap anywhere around the galaxy, and headed down to the city. He had a goal tonight. Kebii'tra, Alor and leader of Clan Kata had decided it was time they took an interest in this brewing war. Everyone had heard about it, and it was much of the talk around the towns, depending on who you spoke to it could be praise of damnation of the thing. Some argued it was too soon, others that it had been far too long. But no matter what the general opinion was, everyone had heard of it.
____________________________________________________
The dust kicked up by the repulsors on the bike settled to cover the area in a nice, thin sheet of dust, including Vhe'tra's black, green, and orange-patterned armor. There was a shudder as the last of the speeder's components whined down to leave the sounds of the night to themselves. small animals scurried and carried on with themselves, a few Mandalorians clad in all manner of coloration and design of armors made their business and went on about themselves. It was a quiet evening, but even so the local cantina was a raucous of activity as sounds of music and drunken laughter rose to contend with the howling, whipping winds that tore through the streets.
It was in this direction that Vhe'tra made his way, hoping to find someone he could talk to that would lead him to his goal of finding a way to get his clan listed with the rest of the army. Though not know as frontline fighters, the forces of Kata were adept at sneak attacks, espionage, and subterfuge, which Vhe'tra was sure would be useful for the first parts of the war. The outcome of a war always hinged on good intel, and the ability to keep your enemy guessing what your next move was.
As the lone figure of Vhe'tra neared the cantina, a light mountain drizzle began to coat the city in water, softly feeding the plants and animals with the vital substance.
He entered casually, nodding to a few patrons closest to the doors who simply nodded back and went about their business as Vhe'tra did the same. The first thing anyone ever did in a cantina was talk to the bartender - that was where the action was always to be had. And so, following this simple guideline, Vhe'tra did just that with an armored elbow resting on the counter,
"Su'cuy vod. Tion lise ni dinui gar?-Hello brother. What can I get you?-" Inquired the rather portly Mandalorian behind the counter, whose armor was colored a deep red-orange mix,
"Ne'tra gal. And... Some informati-"
"Ahh, of course. One thing at a time, vod." cut in the man turned around to remove a fresh mug and fill it from the tap with the black ale,
"Now what were you saying about information?"
"Not much, I was just wondering if you knew where I could find an official representative of the Mand'alor, or something similar. Need to talk with one." Explained Vhe'tra. The other man's face contorted with thought a bit, but then shook lightly,
"I'm afraid I've nothing. You might have luck with the patrons. Though, maybe you might want to finish that drink first." gestured the 'tender to the mug before going about his business. Vhe'tra offered a nod back before removing his helmet and setting it gently on the bartop in order to enjoy his drink, listening to the different tables talk amongst themselves.
One table had a rather old man, which was rare in the Mandalorain community, telling a tale of valor and courage to what seemed to be his grandchildren, since they kept referring to him as "Be'buir", but that could just be an affectionate nickname. Didn't make much difference to a Mandalorian anyway, bloodline was of no real concern.
Another table nearby had a loud, arrogant man describing in great detail, to some females, about how he captured some bounty or another. From the way the females reacted, he was beefing it up a bit, though when one of the females started telling an even more impressive story, Vhe'tra laughed at the humbled Male's stuttering response.
The city of Parjai Petir wasn't as well known as Keldabe or Enceri, but it was a bigger bump on the map than the small farming or mining communities that dotted Manda'yaim's landscapes. So it was a pretty safe bet that someone here would know a thing or two.
Patience, you'll find something. Night's only just begun.
Though Vhe'tra to himself as he leaned against the bar with the mug in his hand, casually surveying the area. There was a heavy isotope band of some sort in the corner on a small, raised platform playing some tune that sounded like 'Vode An' if your head was being put through a blender with nails. He almost wanted to join in, but this thought was quickly replaced by thoughts of the attractive female Mandalorian who was chatting with a few of her friends.