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Private Beskar sharpens Beskar

Zandra Ruus

Beskar Brawler
Zandra Ruus
Character Bio
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Roche was a system that not many ventured to, not without good reason that is. Zandra had such a reason, a search for guidance from a much wiser woman. She had fallen off the path, so to speak. Her travels had taken her to Kestri recently, and the revelations she had there shook her faith in The Mandalorian Creed. What did it truly mean to be Mando'ade? Was she doing what was right, or was she just violently lashing out at the stars?

She'd made contact with Saram Kote Saram Kote shortly before her contract to hunt the Sith, that was probably one of the luckiest things to happen to her. Saram was a respectable Mandalorian Commander, one who knew The Creed and lived by it earnestly. In Zandra's mind that made her the one to call when things looked dark. And right now? Things definitely weren't looking very fething bright.

"Blasted Hell, what kind of ship is that?!"

It was her first time seeing the full size of the fleet that Saram was a part of, the power that Strill Securities commanded. It was even greater it seemed than the Mythos Fleet that Zandra was a part of. No doubt the full scale of the Strill ships would dwarf even some full militaries!

"They don't do anything halfway around here do they? Fething Hell, things like this are why I try and keep these folks on the friendly side of things..."

Soon her Peltast was docked in one of the landing bays, where some of the Strill fighters were landed. She was sure her ride was not going to fit in, especially with the custom yellow and pink paintjob that she'd decked it out in. It earned her looks from some of the flyboys, but she didn't really care. She was here on business, and the state of her interceptor was the least of her concerns.
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Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde
Saram Kote

Strill-Post-Banner.png

Tag(s): Zandra Ruus Zandra Ruus

Saram's Equipment

Armor Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s) Rifle(s) Explosives


No matter how many ties she tied hair with the new gauntlet=vambrace units on, it still felt peculiar. With the full neural interface, it was essentially like not having gloves on. Still, it felt like her fingers had plumped up to several times their usual size. She probably should have done her hair up before putting her beskar'gam on. The base at Roche was as safe as safe was. The thought had occurred to her to leave her beskar'gam off, but she was trying to take a page out of her ori'vod Nyles' book. He always managed to look so put together when she showed up to pester him. Maybe for auretii it might have been fine, but for the clans of Breshig in the least, not wearing her armor projected that she didn't even consider Zandra capable of hurting her, and that was not at all what she was trying to do.

"Sar'ika, she's in the sen'yam," came Rav's voice over her comms. "Her fighter's outgoing have been jammed, N&Z, ret'lini." Saram was already out of her quarters before Rav had finished speaking, her automated acknowledgement signal no doubt flashing in Rav's HUD. Thankfully it wasn't a long walk, not for her and not normally. She understood Rav's caution, N&Z weren't exactly what one would call a friendly company. Their intent to scoop up what was left of the market was clear enough. Not exactly someone you just handed over the coordinates of one of your bases to. Not exactly someone you trusted to not have tapped their products either. As she'd said, ret'lini.

Her timing was apparently impeccable, the turbolift dinged as it arrived on her floor. Saram nodded to the other occupant, an early model Gar Verd droid, before pressing the button for the hangar and leaning back against the railing. The doors shut with a whoosh before the turbolift began heading down to the hangar. It was a quiet ride, the Gar Verd droids were known for their startling conversation skills after all. She stepped off the elevator and into the hangar, finding Zandra without much difficulty. Saram walked briskly over enthusiastically, a warm smile flickering across her features, "Zandra! Was the flight decent vod'ika? Me'vaar ti gar?"

 

Zandra Ruus

Beskar Brawler
Zandra Ruus
Character Bio
sg25Fmr.png

Zandra had wondered if she had made the right call to remove her helmet, but it only made sense to greet a sister-in-arms with her face out. The young Mandalorian waved at Saram, her hair a particularly gaudy shade of fuchsia and done up in pigtails. Certainly a contrast to many of the Mandalorian Traditionalists that frequented Roche.

"Saram! Holy chit it's good to see you!"

After the wave, Zandra ran forward, she embraced the taller woman with a sigh filled with catharsis. Finally she had found a port in the storm, someone who finally made some sense. There was no chance of bloodshed or in-fighting here. She was safe, and that was all that mattered right now.

"You won't believe what happened since the dustup on Korriban," She said, looking up at the woman with a misty look to her eyes. "I am so lost right now and it seems like everything has gone crazy. Now I hear the galaxy has gotten even worse since I left..."

She trailed off, not even thinking how her crazy babble must have sounded. Some warrior she turned out to be, getting so overwhelmed over what was most likely nothing. To her Mandalorians needed to be tough, they needed to be strong, and they needed to keep cool under fire.

She could never imagine Drego crying, he was too taciturn to do that. Some days she wished she was more like him, having that level of machismo to just bulldoze through everything. Now here she was, trying to keep it together just because life got hard.

"Must look like a total hut'uun right now... Getting all teary eyed for no fraking reason. I just feel like nothing is right... Ever since The Crusades ended, ever since the galaxy started to cool, I've felt aimless. I need to go out there and do something!"

Zandra stopped, before looking at the marks of gray over her visor. A reminder of the ashes from Cathar. "Seems all I do is screw up..."
sg25Fmr.png
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde
Saram Kote

Strill-Post-Banner.png

Tag(s): Zandra Ruus Zandra Ruus

Saram's Equipment

Armor Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s) Rifle(s) Explosives



Saram returned the hug warmly, "It's good to see you too, vod'ika." She'd missed Zandra, she had the youthful energy that circumstance had tempered out of her at that age. That was when she heard the sigh, Saram was no great reader of emotions, but she didn't need to be to able to discern the sadness in the action. She listened to what Zandra was saying. Well, saying was generous, it was more semi-coherent thought given voice, but that was what worried her.

The words hit her harder than she was expecting to. hut'uun? For expressing emotion? What absolutely and total mir'osikla shabuir had taught her that? Someone had a lot of answering to do, and they'd better pray to Kad or the Manda or whatever the shab they believed in that she didn't get her hands on them. "Hu'tuun? Nu draar, vod'ika," she said, putting an arm around her and leading her toward the station's tap caf. "Nothing a warm mug of shig won't help, or something stronger if you're feeling up to it."

"We all ,make mistakes, vod'ika, we just have to learn to get up, dust off and keep at it," she added. The various crew members immediately returned to their duties, all having been raised by their buire to know when to give their vode space. Drego had a lot of shabla answering to do, and it was for Zandra's sake alone that she wasn't already out there in the void looking to put his head on a shabla pike. Then again, she wasn't even sure if he was the shabuire who'd left her in this state.

 

Zandra Ruus

Beskar Brawler
Zandra Ruus
Character Bio
sg25Fmr.png

Saram Kote said:
"Nothing a warm mug of shig won't help, or something stronger if you're feeling up to it."
Click to expand...
"Shig is fine for now, no reason to get plastered just after touching down. I mean it though Saram, I needed a wall to throw everything at... I knew I could trust you Vod'ika..."

Zandra sat in a small chair near the tap caf, clutching the cup just a bit tighter than was necessary. She inhaled softly, trying to steel herself for just a little while. She acknowledged that there was no shame in crying, but it didn't mean she wanted to weep for too long! Seemed Saram had a totally different ideology on that one. It was refreshing to see a Mando who wasn't all machismo and bluster.

"You wouldn't believe the month I've had. You ever been to Kestri? Lots of Mandalorians out that way, then again I don't think they're you're type..."

It was a fair assessment, those who followed the Iron Covenant were throwbacks, little more than Crusaders with an upgrade in equipment. They weren't like the high speed low drag operators of Strill. Everything on a Breshig ship was advanced, new, shiny even! While the IC all gathered round storyfires and told tales back and forth. Not much more than technologically advanced barbarians. It was fine she supposed, but maybe not what she wanted.

"I ask because that's where I've spent the last month of my life. Cleansing half crazy Vong and neutralizing targets for people who I don't think see me as anything more than a punky kid with an attitude problem. They call me an Alor'Ad, but I feel like they don't really respect the title..."

The issue was not the title, she could call herself Mandalore the diminutive for all they cared. The simple issue was no mando soldier wanted to take orders from a teenager they plucked out of the gutter. Some of those space vikings had blasters older than Zandra, and that stung them. Seeing her thrive and command where they couldn't.
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Saram Kote Saram Kote
 
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