Private Black Market Koboh Roadshow | COV

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Koboh
​

Tag: Din Erzhan

Planetshift had sure made hyperspace travel a hell of a lot more of a pain than it used to be.

In the flar-flung systems of Wild Space, chaos ruled. More civilized sectors of the galaxy had been rather quick to reestablish star charts, map out adjusted hyperlanes, and acclimate to the new relative position of star systems. But out here, far from the Core, where no central insitution reigned, spacers had reverted to far more rudimentary yet reliable technologies. Hyperspace beacons provided dependable, mappable routes between star systems, but hyperspace travel aligned to them felt a hundred times slower to Siv.

Koboh was about as far-flung as it got. Data sifters on Kestri had gotten ahold of encrypted holonet advertisement about a beskar auction from underworld sources. Suspicious enough as-was, the potential for a lode of beskar alloy was also a significant material resources that would be extremely beneficial to the Iron Covenant, regardless of its means of acquisition.

Siv had volunteered himself to investigate the auction. Kestri was still too foreign, too different from what he remembered, and the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit was a welcome one. He'd taken on the mission alone. There was a covert, a safe-house on the world whose covert master would be more than enough for whatever opposition he might face. And if it wasn't enough? Well, death was always an implied risk of the job.

Moving into the planet's atmosphere, Siv's grip on the flight controls of the Kyr'yc Saca lightened somewhat as the rattle from orbital entry died off. He was burning quietly, trying to keep his presence unannounced. One hand left the flight stick to the ship's comms panel, where he flipped between several pre-set frequencies before finding the one he wanted: an old Enclave frequency that he trusted the Koboh covert would be running. "This is Siv Dragr, of the Iron Covenant. I'm inbound from Kestri, looking for a quiet spot to land."

 

[Din Erzhan]

Rambler's Reach, Koboh


To many, the planet Koboh was just another frontier dust-planet, like the more storied Tatooine or Jakku. Yet, for the centuries of existence, it had its share of tall tales and legends. An outpost during the High Republic. The tyranny of the Bedlam Raiders, around the time of Sidious' Empire. The fabled lost world of Tanalorr just beyond the system's boundary, through the Abyss. Nevertheless, most people in this day were like their forebears on Koboh: prospectors and profiteers after the precious ores that dwelled in the veins of the world. Yet, someone had to maintain order in Rambler's Reach.

Pyloon's Saloon was a staple establishment of the town. A watering hole where the weary miner or traveler could stop for a cool refreshment. Despite the neutrality of the place, arguments broke out. In this case, two drunkards squabbling over a piece of ore.

"Ya listenin' here, ridge-face....!" growled a particularly scarred Ardennian, "I delivered that priorite to 'em fair n' square...!"

Bu beeska mu-moolee doth bidwata, sleemo!" Came the response of an inebriated Klatooinian

Voices grew louder, and more violent. Soon, a crowd formed as the two began reeking havoc and began to brawl. Chants of their audience egged them on. It wasn't until the abrupt sound of two, cleanly fired stun bolts hit the two in disagreement. The two combatants slumped to the ground, the power of stunning and drunkeness putting them in their place. Standing in the doorway of the Saloon was a man dressed in a mixture of yellow and pale turquoise armor, clearly Mandalorian in style. Din Erzhan, the newly appointed marshal of these parts.

"Get them to the rooms downstairs." The Mandalorian spoke coldly, "Let them sleep it off."

With his presence, order became restored. The two assailants were dragged off the floor to Pyloon's resting areas. The visor of Din's helm scanned where the brawl had begun, and noticed the source of their disagreement. A singular ingot, that he picked up. Damascened, and familiar. Almost like....

An incoming message came across his HUD. On the frequency only those of his people would know. A man named Siv Dragr, a name he knew, requesting a safe point. The Marshal began his trek from the saloon towards where would be needed next. He pressed a button on his wristcomm, back on the same secret frequency back to the Kyr'yc Saca.

"Dragr, this is Din Erzhan. Warden of Koboh covert" He spoke in return, "I will meet you in these coordinates."

He transmitted the landing zone a few clicks away from his covert. Mostly barren land, uninhabited. Din was no fool to outright give the location of his charge away. He would need to verify if this Siv was genuine, or imposter....

Siv Dragr​

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Koboh
​

Tag: Din Erzhan

"Dragr, this is Din Erzhan. Warden of Koboh covert" He spoke in return, "I will meet you in these coordinates."

Siv ran the coordinates through his navicomputer; there was a second-long pause as it processed a quick chart of the immediate terrain of Koboh before spitting out an overview of the area as well as new flight vectors. He frowned. He didn't know where the hell Erzhan was taking him, but it didn't look like the landing pad of a covert operation.

Still, it wasn't like he had another option. With a resigned sigh, he increased the throttle of his ship and dipped lower into the sky.

The sunny Koboh day was beginning to turn to nightfall, its sun already dipping beyond the horizon, which cast the sky into brilliant hues of orange with tones of pink. Clouds dotted the sky with long, wind-stretched bands, their undersides burning like embers as the last light caught them. Koboh's broken terrain rolled out beneath him in jagged silhouettes: mesas, spires of weathered stone, and valleys choked with alien scrub.

A beeping indicator alerted him that he was drawing close to the coordinates position. He angled the nose down, taking a wide, sweeping circular view of the location: what seemed to be a large indent into a towering mesa, big enough to land a ship twice the size of the Kyr'yc Saca. He only hoped the rock had enough integrity to support its weight. Gingerly, he decreased forward speed as he transferred power to the turbolift systems, nestling the assault dropship into the ledge.

The hull gave a soft shudder as weight transferred fully to the struts. Engines powered down in stages, their roar fading into the vast, open quiet of Koboh's twilight. Outside, the sky had deepened to violet, the last rim of sun vanishing beyond the horizon. Siv exhaled slowly, staring through the viewport at the unmarked rock wall ahead. "Well," he murmured to himself, reaching to power down the final systems, "let's see what kind of covert hides in a cliff."

 

[Din Erzhan]

Soon, the distinct sound of a jetpack warbled and cracked over the horizon. Siv would soon find himself face to helmet with another Mandalorian. Once again, one bearing pale teal and yellow armor. On his right pauldron bore the red sigil of a rhinoceros-like skull. A mudhorn, to be precise. The connection on the old Enclave frequency clicked on again

"I am Din Erzhan" came the same voice Siv had heard earlier.

The helmeted man was able to gaze over the newcomer to Koboh. The visor of his helm was almost scrutinizing. This Dragr wore the armor like a fellow Mandalorian. At least from what he could tell. The descendant of Djarin eased his posture some. With a nod, Din accepted the visitor.

"You'll have to excuse my initial lack of hospitality." His voice spoke cooly, carefully, "Since the planeshift, Koboh has been getting some questionable characters passing through. Just doing what I can to keep the refuge safe."

He spoke as man of pragmatism and practicality. As the warden of the covert, it was his task to keep those under his care protected from outside threats. And in the Galaxy’s current state of chaos, darkness, and turmoil....one could forgive Erzhan for being careful.

"If you have a jetpack with you, I invite you to disembark and follow me." He stated, "The covert is just beyond the mesas. Should head soon before we lose all remaining daylight."

With that, he completed his message. The grav-ball was firmly in Siv's court. Din awaited his response, and also keeping alert. Koboh was a wild planet, after all...

Siv Dragr​

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Koboh
​

Tag: Din Erzhan

As Siv disembarked from his ship, the loud hum of jetpack thrusters drew his attention upwards. He paused on the Kyr'yc Saca's landing ramp, looking upwards. The thrusters grew louder until a Mandalorian descended, briefly eclipsing the setting sun before alighting on the ground. His armor was yellow and teal, unusual colors to Siv's eyes, but nothing to make note of. The stranger introduced himself as Din Erzhan, the same who'd given him the coordinates.

"You'll have to excuse my initial lack of hospitality." His voice spoke cooly, carefully, "Since the planeshift, Koboh has been getting some questionable characters passing through. Just doing what I can to keep the refuge safe."

"If you have a jetpack with you, I invite you to disembark and follow me." He stated, "The covert is just beyond the mesas. Should head soon before we lose all remaining daylight."

"I'm vod, aren't I?" Siv said rhetorically. His jetpack was equipped and ready for flight; all he had to do was follow Erzhan. "I'll follow your lead."

 

[Din Erzhan]

"Ara'nov, aliit." came Din's response Siv's question.

Mandalorian poetry. A part of rhyme from childhood that any good Mando parent would raise their younglings with. Simply put, the self-defense of one's tribe was core tenet. The protection of his covert's people came above all else in the Mudhorn's eyes. Even when it came to other Mandalorians, especially those he knew little of.

With a nod, he fired up his rockets once more, ascending into a direction with a gesture for Siv to follow. The declining daylight meant they needed to be quick. A steady altitude was followed as they flew passed canyon after canyon. Finally, dim lights in the distance.

"Erzhan to Sarjeh." The marshal hailed on a frequency in his HUD, "Inbound with a guest. Vod from offworld."

A series of raspy words, Ubese perhaps, gave an affirmative. Din began to slow down and descend. The settlement he had brought Siv to was an old bandit fort. Once mastered by the Bedlam Raiders, it was now a covert for Mandalorians who needed respite. Various clan banners flew in the breeze. In the center of most displays was Erzhan’s own: the Mudhorn signet bequeathed to Din Djarin, his ancestor by Creed.

"Welcome to Fort Kah'Lin, Siv Dragr." Din spoke to his guest, "Come join my fellows and I for refreshments, to show proper hospitality. Then to business."

Siv Dragr​

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Koboh
​

Tag: Din Erzhan

"Ara'nov, aliit." came Din's response Siv's question.

The response was short enough. The marshal ignited his jetpack, soaring upwards. Siv was only moments behind, propelled by his own jetpack as the two Mandalorians rose into the twilight Koboh sky.

The flight was short, thankfully. Urgency was of the essence, and Siv, after the flight from Kestri to Koboh, hadn't been keen for more hours in the air. He took the opportunity to observe the landscape of Koboh, marked by drastic geologic formations; canyons, gorges, and natural reservoirs. He wasn't a naturalist but could appreciate the planet's rugged beauty.

His sensors picked up the covert before his eyes did. UV-sensitive receptors picked up the lights from a distance, highlighting the sudden natural lighting in his HUD, which was in high-sensitive surveillance mode. Over the wind, he wouldn't hear Din hailing the covert, but followed his lead nonetheless to touch down in the covert. Siv made note of the banners fluttering in the light breeze, the structures that had a look of portability to them, and the telltale signs of Mandalorian life.

There were several warriors out in the open, but as far as he could tell, it wasn't packed. Then again, he was a stranger to this covert; like as not, there was much he had not yet seen.

"Welcome to Fort Kah'Lin, Siv Dragr." Din spoke to his guest, "Come join my fellows and I for refreshments, to show proper hospitality. Then to business."

Straightening up from his landing, he turned towards his marshal-guide. "Thank you," he said gruffly, though his impatience betrayed him. "We should move fast, Erzhan, before the trail goes cold." He fiddled with the blaster holstered at his hip. Maybe he was anxious for action. "Then again," he conceded, "a quick drink couldn't hurt."