A New Friend!

[Syn Blacken]

Haseria​

Durango, Sierra Blanca​

Syn couldn't help but love Haseria, it gave off a vibe he'd not recalled since his younger years alongside his kin. Back when he had people he could call kin. However those days were well behind him.

Now within the Confederacy, Syn had found what some could call a home. It had a number of nice people, a few seemed off. But in the good way, the DeWinters girl he'd met not too long ago was like that.

This band of people were likely better then any he'd met before. Of course time could change that and the more he connected with those within the Confederacy could as well.

But until then Syn spent his time off on Haseria. Drinking and seeing where the winds would take him. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

And as expected of a man like him. He liked to make social connections, with just about anyone he could.

Even more so when he spotted a redhead. Syn couldn't tell if she was Mandalorian or simply a traveler who'd found themselves on planet. Curiosity only gave him more reason to approach the young lady.

Rising from his seat within the Sierra Blanca Saloon. Syn made is way towards her eagerly, he'd once more gone for a more friendly look. No armor and only two pistols on him, light and soft clothing for a man who'd regularly worn something that likely made him a walking gunshop.

'Hello Ma'am' His accent hinting at his somewhat Hapan background. 'Quite sorry to bother you but I couldn't help be realize that I've never seen you around here. Of course I've not been here long either. Just thought I'd come over and chat with you.' Syn wasn't the best at talking, even if he did it with just about everyone. He just hoped this would be interesting, the in good way.

[member="Alora Fae"]

 

[Saraya Arenais]

Haseria
Approximately 10 Minutes After Arrival​

​

Alora stretched and pulled at her aching muscles as she stepped off the shuttle. She cursed silently in a strange, foreign tongue. It had been a long journey and not a particularly comfortable one either. The red leather of her armour clung tight to her skin in a strangely comforting way. In the time it took to grab what few belongings she had brought along with her on the journey Alora had soaked in the sights, sounds and smells of the station.

Her face remained a blank, expressionless sheet. What a strange place the rest of the Galaxy seemed to be. It wasn't any wonder that her people had remained firmly on Baros for so many millennia.

While deciding what to do next a strange sound floated toward Alora's listening ears. Was it talking to her? She spun around on the heel of her blood red boot to face the mysterious voice. In front of her, or behind her as he had been, was the first person Alora had met who didn't come from her home world. Despite the moderate excitement and curiosity bubbling in the pit of her stomach her face remained still as stone.

It took her a few minutes to pick apart his sentence and break it down into something she could understand. After a long moment of baited silence she replied. 'What is Ma'am?' Her accent was broken and thick with something not heard by anyone outside of Ochota culture. By her side her left hand flicked imperceptibly, as if she'd gained a twitch from some long forgotten illness.

[member="Syn Blacken"]

 

[Malok]

D U R A N G O​

Sierra Blanca
Haserian Wilds, Protector Territory

A shadow had come to Haseria.

When last the Demon set foot upon the distant world, a mortal blow had nearly been struck. A confused and naive [member="Scherezade deWinter"] raised her blade against Darth Metus and drove it into his flesh. In the midst of a war against a curse which had poisoned Haseria's landscape, the Sith had placed all his focus upon the enemy before him...and not enough upon the supposed ally behind him. Since that day, he had no reason to return to the site of the incident - that is, until whispers reached his ear of a new community. Those who chose the sand-swept land were born upon the same planet as he, reared by the same culture as he, and lived the same warrior lifestyle.

They were Mandalorian to the core, but chose the Confederacy over the misguided Empire as their home.

Intrigued, the Demon descended upon the settlement with minimal fanfare. He visited the world not as the Vicelord of the Confederacy, nor as a former Sole Ruler of their people, but as a visitor. Plain and simple. To this end, he did not arm himself with alchemical designs or overly vicious attire. He even surpressed his presence in the Force, silencing the thunderous presence to a low rumble. Instead, a simple blast vest made-up the totality of his personal protection. Boots, cargos, and a vermillion poncho rounded out his ensemble - thereby making the Sith nearly indistinguishable from the others who wandered about the settlement. The only giveaway were his eyes, which remained their tainted shade of sulfur.

Given the hour, Darth Metus followed the overall "vibe" of the day and matched the footsteps of some of the residents. Simply by overhearing, he learned that the settlement had become known as "Durango." To the best of his knowledge, the word carried no significance in Mando'a, but seemed to fit the community like a glove. When the word reached his ears, it spoke of uncharted terrain untouched by civilization, being tamed by willing hands. It spoke of hard work, grit, and long nights under the stars. It spoke distinctly of life on Mandalore, before the segregation of Force Sensitive and Zealot. And frankly, it was a breath of fresh air.

Eventually, the Demon would find himself pushing open the swinging door of the local "watering hole", dubbed Sierra Blanca. And, though the aesthetic was the furthest thing from the cubical architecture of home, the cacophany of loud voices was exactly what he remembered. The smell of tihaar and netra'gal...the clatter of tankards in toasts and Mando'a being chanted in drinking games...it was a snapshot of the good old days. Darth Metus found a rare smile gracing his lips as he stepped forward. He eyed a seat at the counter, where the fiery-haired [member="Alora Fae"] seemed. At first, the Sith was content to leave the young woman be - acknowledging her with a nod as he stepped past.

But the tail end of her encounter with [member="Syn Blacken"] gave him pause. What is ma'am? she inquired.

The Demon blinked.

Turning, he paused only long enough to procure something appetizing off of one of the servers dancing by. From her tray, he gripped two glasses, filled to the brim with netra'gal on ice. He then raised the one in his sword hand to his lips, indulging in a swig, whilst extending the second to the redhead. "Ma'am," he answered, clearly bemused at her lack of understanding, "means Woman. But nice." He motioned to the glass he offered with a jut of his chin, before asking a question of the kind Mandalorian.

"How long has this place been around?"

[member="Alora Fae"], [member="Syn Blacken"]

 

[Syn Blacken]

Syn couldn't help but smile as she asked him that question. Even more so when the other man answered her question. Of course he wasn't making fun of her lack of knowledge, it just amused him that she had no idea what he meant.

However his gaze went from the redhead onto the other man. The place couldn't have been open for long, maybe a few months or even a year. Syn wasn't sure, nor could he remember he'd arrived before it opened.

'I'd say not too long. Of course I haven't been around there parts for too long. I only recently joined up with the Protectors.' Syn hoped that answer would suffice. Even if it wasn't what the man was looking for.

'My name is Syn Blacken by the way. Pleasure to meet you both' He said nodding to the pair.

[member="Alora Fae"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Saraya Arenais]

Alora's eyes darted from one male to the other. Wide and forever learning, they glanced at every small movement made by the two stood in front of her. From minute one of stepping onto this barbaric planet Alora's senses were overwhelmed. There were so many complicated movements to their language. Their faces seemed bright with expression and for Alora it was hard to follow. She couldn't make out how they felt as she could at home and that lead to conflict.

Were they mocking her for the lack of understanding she possessed? As a complete stranger, she couldn't tell. The stood so far apart from each other it was hard to notice the subtleties that would have granted her insight. With her left hand she made a clenched fist, her thumb thrusting upward into the air. She absentmindedly brushed it against the thick of her collar bone.

'I am named as Alora.' She responded to Syn with the smallest hint of a nod by way of greeting.

It was then that Alora noticed the outstretched hand of the second man that had entered the bar. It was holding a strange coloured liquid Alora had never laid eyes on before. Out of pure habit, and a little fear, she shook her head a minuscule amount. To accompany this movement, which happened to be the first form of pure emotional expression Alora had displayed, she curled the corners of her mouth down into a tiny fraction of a frown. Just enough to notice if you were watching her closely. 'It is made of what?'

[member="Syn Blacken"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

I'd say not too long... The answer provided by the young Protector was one that did not come as a surprise to the Demon. In truth, it made perfect sense - if such a place had been around longer than recent history, surely he would have known about it. Although he was the furthest thing from a member of their society any longer, Darth Metus did still make it a point to have a meager awareness of went on regarding his heritage. Without missing a beat, the Mandalorian went on to introduce himself as a newer member of Durango's own Protectors.

The fiery-haired woman introduced herself in turn. Standing now before her, Darth Metus could appreciate the accent that fell from her lips. It was thick, and told the tale that Basic most likely was not her first language. This truth aside, the Sith could not put his finger on where the accent originated from. Over the course of decades, he had encountered many Corellians, Hapans, and many other races whose dialects carried a unique flair - but this one was foreign. It was enough that he lofted his eyebrow ever so slightly, but maintained his bemused expression all the while.

That is, until he saw the frown curve her lips. Perhaps it was instinct - but the sight of the beverage he offered seemed to be the culprit (at least as far as Darth Metus could tell) - and it became evident that she had never partaken in netra'gal before. There wasn't a Mandalorian alive who hadn't at least had a solid chug of the swill before, and thus he was left thinking she was just as foreign to Durango as he.

"Syn. Alora." he began, committing their names to memory. "You may call me Darth Metus. A pleasure to meet you both as well." With his own introduction out of the way, he raised his beverage to his lips. He did so deliberately - looking at the fiery haired woman as the ale invaded his mouth - before release a light, but satisfied ahh. "This is Netra'gal. Sweet. Strong. Good. Made of berries, primarily."

The Demon offered the glass to her once more, adding - "Try, you'll like it. I guarantee it." Or your credits back.

While the beverage yet rested in his offhand, the Sith briefly took his attention off of the foreign woman. His gaze swept across the saloon, until he spotted a table that wasn't too many paces away. It was far enough away from the louder tables to be comfortable but close enough to the counter that drinks would come quickly. Darth Metus motioned to the pair with his own beverage, indicating the table.

"Come, join me! Let's chat."

[member="Syn Blacken"], [member="Alora Fae"]

 

[Saraya Arenais]

In the strangest looking place she had ever been in, with the strangest looking people, Alora felt completely out of place. Which happened to be rather unusual for her. Though a daunting task lay ahead of her she felt a small comfort in the hope that the rest of the people across the Galaxy were at least half as friendly as this. Everything seemed a little far-fetched compared to the bedtime stories she'd been told as a child. Of course, she had known better then to listen and believe the stories she was told as she grew. Most of her friends knew what she had set out to do and attempted to fill her head with ridiculous fairy tales.

A stretch of silence passed between the three of them before Alora came to a decision.

She crinkled her nose, creating light creases across the bridge of it. It wasn't necessarily a look of disgust, more a mild fear of something new. It only happened for a split second before she remembered herself and nodded stiffly. She reached out a gloved hand and took the glass from Darth Metus' outstretched arm. A quick rush of air escaped her lips before she pressed them to the glass and took a large, respectful swallow of the black liquid. Surprisingly, she found it to be just as he had said. Sweet, strong and good.

Alora took another large swig, this time with much more pleasure then the first. 'It is...' She paused for a brief moment to mumble something in that strange, soft tongue. 'How do you say when your tongue is happy?'

Her eyes passed quickly over their expressions and came to rest on Darth Metus as he spoke. 'Yes. I will chat." The last word rolled off her tongue as if it didn't quite belong in her mouth. 'And you will come too, Syn?' Her eyes flicked over to him quickly. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of as she glanced between the strangers in-front of her, it was that Ochotan women were definitely missing out.

'Is chat what we do right now?' Alora asked as she shifted herself toward the table he pointed out.

[member="Syn Blacken"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Syn Blacken]

'You simply say it tastes good' Syn couldn't help but grin as he spoke. It was clear that this wasn't her native language. From listening to her accent he couldn't pin where she was from.

His curiosity and the pairs offer ensured he'd follow the Darth and the girl off towards the table. 'Of course I'm coming. Can't refuse an offer to chat with a few strangers.'

Syn knew this was going to be quite the conversation. A Sith, Mandalorian and a Alora? chatting about who knows what. The young man loved odd pairings more then anything and this was quite the group.

'So I might as ask where you hail from Alora?' Syn hoped she was fine with answering such a question. Some disliked speaking about such things, while others like Syn enjoyed it. Even though his short time on his homeworld was horrific.

[member="Alora Fae"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

How do you say when your tongue is happy?

It is said that, locked deep within the mind of every man, is a particular corner. In scientific terms, it is often referred to as the "gutter." No matter how ancient or powerful a man becomes, no matter how much clout they carry, that corner yet persists. And, after hearing the innocent comment from one [member="Alora Fae"], the Sith soon find his mind wandering to that particular corner. Alas, he managed to stifle his grin with a quick, well-placed sip of ale; which allowed for [member="Syn Blacken"] to respond in turn.

Instead, once the beverage was removed from his lips, the Demon opted to focus on the fact that there was yet another satisfied customer in the Galaxy. While he did not tell the fiery-haired woman a certain sad truth - that Mandalorian beverages weren't readily available everywhere - he did decide to hype up Netra'gal just a bit more. "See? I told you!" he began, raising his glass in a mock toast as they moved towards the table. Darth Metus descended into a sit between the two, settling the glass down upon the wood.

"Easily one of the best drinks in the Galaxy." In my opinion. "Can never go wrong."

With that "lofty" compliment said, Syn took care of starting their chat in earnest. Frankly, the question he asked was one that the Sith was curious about, as the origin of her accent was a mystery to him. However, he then posed a question to the young man in turn. "Aye, I'd love to know that myself." he began, adding onto the Protector's question first. "And you, Syn, you're from Mandalore herself right?"

[member="Syn Blacken"], [member="Alora Fae"]

 

[Saraya Arenais]

'It taste good...' She repeated to herself slowly, trying to memorise the words. Galactic Basic was such a complicated language. So many different words with so many different connotations. Confusing as it was, she was desperate for every scrap of Basic she could learn. The quicker she stopped sounding like a broken toy the quicker people would take her seriously.

She stood from her seat and followed to the table, choosing to sit with her back against a wall. As she sat she kept her ear on the conversation. The question caught her off guard and it was plain on her face. She had expected people to ask questions, but not as soon as this.

She took the first two fingers on her left hand and pressed them firmly to her thumb. This strange gesture was followed by another, in which she tucked her thumb against her palm and drummed her fingers rapidly against her thigh.

It might be forbidden to talk of Yol and Arotahi, but surely not of her home. How would she remember it if she couldn't even say its name?

'You may ask. I am born on Ochota. Many do not know of this.' She waved her hand with an air of confidence. Even the Mon Calamari were surprised to discover Ochota existed, so why should these strangers on the other side of the Galaxy have any inkling? 'It is very secret. And very ignored.' She glanced between the two quickly then set her eyes on Darth Metus. 'I think I will be having more of this...Net'ga?'

She could already feel the beginnings of a familiar tingle in the tips of her fingers. She may have been foreign but she was no stranger to the feeling of being inebriated. In fact, she welcomed the feeling and hoped it would loosen her tongue and allowed her to relax.

She waved her hand in the air wildly, flagging down someone who looked to be employed at the bar. It seemed only right she buy the next round. After ordering three tankards of the strange black liquid, she turned to Syn. Tugging on her left ear with her index finger and thumb she asked: 'Mandalore?'

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Syn Blacken"]

 

[Syn Blacken]

'Yes I am. Or at least I was born there. Family had to leave rather abruptly before I really grew connected to the place.' Syn said answering the Darth. Before of course turning towards Alora to answer her question.

'Mandalore is....was the home of the Mandalorian people.' That was his honest opinion. 'A planet filled with the galaxies greatest warriors. Quite like what this planet could one day become.'

'How about you Darth. Where is a Sith such as yourself from?' He was interested enough to ask Syn his home planet, so it was only the right thing to do to ask him the same question.

[member="Alora Fae"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

Ochota…

Simply hearing the name of the woman’s homeworld was enough to cause the Sith’s eyebrow to raise ever so slightly. He had, not once in all of his days, heard of this planet. And that was saying something considering how often he messaged [member="Jorus Merrill"] for updates to his navicomputer. Regardless, what amused Darth Metus the most out of the current conversation was just how much the foreign woman was enjoying her netra’gal. Now, he did not know for certain if she was a lightweight or if it was her limited grasp on Basic, but her pronunciation of the beverage was ever so slightly off.

He wasn’t about the kill the vibe by correcting her.

Rather, he commented rather simply: ”I haven’t heard of that world before. Which Hyperlane is it on?” The simple inquiry would, at the very least, give him some direction on his next request to the Coalition’s finest. With that said, Darth Metus raised his beverage to his lips momentarily whilst [member="Syn Blacken"] spoke of their mutual homeworld.

”I’m also from Mandalore, born and raised.” he began, gently setting his beverage down upon the table. ”Back in the good ol’days, I served as Warmaster under Ra Vizsla. Served as Mand’alor the Reclaimer of the First Mandalorian Empire. Served as an Alor on the Alor’e Council. And so on and on and on.” He swirled the black ale within the glass for a moment. [member="Srina Talon"] had told him to let the past die time and time again...and for the most part, he had taken her advice. He did not allow his former heritage to dictate his decisions. He did not let his Iron Blood dictate the Confederacy.

But here he sat, in a Mandalorian saloon talking about Mandalore. A sigh escaped his lips.

”As you can already assume, I’m not very...welcome back home these days. Could say the same for most everyone in here, hmm?”

[member="Syn Blacken"], [member="Alora Fae"]

 

[Saraya Arenais]

The thick black alcohol slipped down her throat, as easy as water. It's deceptively sweet flavour meant Alora couldn't tell just how strong the drink really was. They had alochol back on home but it wasn't quite like this. After a life of poorly attempted homemade fruit ciders and liquors Alora was definitely beginning to feel its affects. There was a dull tingling in the tips of her fingers and her head felt thick. Beside her Syn's voice was clear as crystal. He was talking of his home. Her attention snapped back into focus on the conversation.

Alora lifted her cup to her lips and took a rather long sip. Her head turned toward Metus and she gave him the most baffled look in the entire Galaxy, followed by a tiny hiccup. 'Hyperlane?'

She paused to listen to Syn, nearly reeling at the word 'was'. 'Not was. Home is always home, even if you leave.' The notion of home being something unstable and ever-changing was a confusing one for her. It was the one thing that always rooted you. It reminded you of who you are and what you're made of. Even if you were a million light-years away, the thought of home would always ground you. It was sad to think that anyone felt like they had lost theirs.

'I am liking the sound of a warrior planet.' Alora followed this with another quick swig of her drink that drained the glass completely. Surprisingly, it went down as easy as the first. She looked between the two men, with a slight arch to her brow. 'You are warriors?' There was a note of curiosity to her voice. Was this what warriors looked like to the rest of the Galaxy?

[member=Syn Blacken] [member=Darth Metus]

 

[Syn Blacken]

Darth Metus being a Mandalorian was interesting but not unexpected given their kind was everywhere on this planet. 'Mandalore is far from being my home. At least after what happened during my early years.'

Syn had found himself calling another place home. Hapes, the homeworld of his mother had filled that role. Even if the place wasn't exactly 'Mandalorian' by any chance.


'You could call me a warrior. It's always the first thing that pops into everyones mind when we tell them who we are. That and the clan talk.' If one was lucky enough to have a clan nowadays.

'What about you Alora. Do your people consider themselves warriors? Or are you lot scientists or politicians' He asked curiously. Wherever this Ocotha was likely fell into one of those groups. Potentially the warrior one considering Alora had found herself on a planet filled with Mandalorians.

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Alora Fae"]