Keepin Corellia Weird

Ijaat stood at the base of a firing range that had been set up on his island home of beskar'yaim. Besides him were a stack of about ten or so crates, marked out for various individuals he had been told were interested in such a device as he had just finalized development on. Something that needed a strong and steady mind behind the scope.
If he were honest, he probably shouldn't have made such a device. That much power in that portable a gun was irresponsible in the extreme. But sometimes, the idea was achieved before the measure of sense kicked in, and he found himself with a weapon beyond his true ken or understanding. The many kinds of a warrior he was, he was no marksman, and this project reflected this.
Today, however, he stood not dressed in armor. That was a statement for a mandalorian, and a powerful one at that. He stood dressed in a dress uniform of steel grey cotton and crimson piping, a small scattering of ribbon bars displayed across his chest and one in particular raised above it, the order of the Ori'ramikade, a singular pride for him to wear.
As he stood, he waited, something on a small podium behind him, and several firing ranges arranged across and around him, with various droid targets set up around the range, from typical training drones Jedi used to full fledged battle droids and others. This would be a live fire exercise for sure. This prototype had to be tested, after
all.
[member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Xander Carrick"] | [member="Veino Garn"]