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Bothuwai on a Sunny Day

Gravsen Conclave

This Wolf Still Has Teeth
Kripes, that ride was awful.

It had been around three galactic rotations since the events on Coruscant. It all happened in what seemed to be a blur of synonymous events to the Sergeant now. He'd met a pretty lady, a Dark Jedi--they actually existed!-- and fought off what he would have thought were his own boys. CSF was supposed to be part of the good guys, right?

All this had led him, and his only true ally, to Bothuwai. The Jedi Order had turned on them so very long ago; the Republic had exposed its own corruption. Both were rotten to the core; willingly enslaving young men to fight their wars. It was disgusting. The news of a Sith Empire had only succeeded to set the old Commando's mind in a mild state of panic. Force users were everywhere; they were dangerous, not to be trusted.

He had learned of the Galactic Empire, these Lords of The Fringe, an various other organizations. It was amazing how wide the galaxy could be split open given a few thousand people with a few million different ideas.

Now here he was, standing at in front of the metallic door. A barrier between himself and a very dangerous obstacle. An obstacle that could send he and his brother off into the streets if he said the wrong word.

Keep it together Sergeant. For Galaar's sake. You still need to talk with him about the others boys. Your boys.

Calico gulped so many times that his mouth grew arid and dry. He stood in his full kit. Dulled gray armor that may have been gray at some point with deep green stripes down the helmet, sides, and shoulder pauldrons. His armor was standard, old tried and true Katarn; with the command pauldrons ARCs liked to wear. He'd received them from a brother during the explosive climax of the war.

Shame he's dead.

He removed his helmet and set it under his arm. His hair had grown out enough to be cropped up in the front; though it was still uniformly short. His now pale complexion and the dilation of his brown eyes was still unsettling. Carbonite could change you.

"Lock it down Galaar. We kark this up; and we're done. No more free caf or scantily clad ladies for you." He grunted to the junior commando. He put on a strong, orderly face, clicked the console to slide the door open, and strode in with a confident gait.

He'd always been a good, orderly soldier. Playing the part of professionalism came easily. "Good evening Sir."

@[member="Darth Metus"]

Galaar Tal'Verda

Just one more butchered soul.
Bloody Space Monks, this Galaxy is fun.

Galaar was following to the left of his Sergeant, his brother, the only person he had left in this Force-Forsaken Galaxy. Their brothers were gone, or at least it seemed so. They were on their own and it was the scariest thing a Clone could ever experience.

'Least I have Calico to annoy and watch my back.

His skin was still regaining color and his eyes were dilated. He had at least had a shave before coming, his hair now cropped close to his head high-and-tight with a now trimmed goatee adorning his face with his scar finally showing. It linked from the decline of his jaw to his eye socket. It felt so good to be back in action and he could move again without slumping over and nearly dying.

The Commando was as well clad in his fancy Katarn Rig. His armor still adorning its dapple camouflage. On his left shoulder there was a red Vulpine painted in and on the right there was a large bird of pray. His helmet had one silver stripe going up the center as it hung on his hip.

"Awww... You mean I have to behave like a good Akk? I hate having to behave. Its rather boring."

He instantly began copying his Sarge, exactly in fact down to the last feature even facial features and gait. They were brothers, they could be exactly like each other if they wished. When the door opened he walked in the same manner as his vode.

"Su'cuy gar, all powerful commander in the C-I-S."

@[member="Calico RC-247"] @Darth Metus
There were many things which came across the desk of the Mandalorian. Day after day, reports, maps, and other things requiring his full attention were passed off to him for his immediate reviewing...yet never before had he received a file detailing the arrival of two claiming to be several hundred years old. In the light of this arrival, Isley Verd, known to few as Darth Metus, had cleared an entire day in order to make a trip to Bothawui in order to meet with the duo of clones. It was almost poetic...for these were a pair of Clone War-era soldiers who had fought against the original Confederacy; and now they were here in hopes of joining the new incarnation. To this end, the door of his office was open in preparation of their arrival and Isley rose to his feet when the duo walked in.

He was garbed from head to toe in his beskar'gam, and he regarded both of them with respectful nods upon their striding within his office. Surprise came upon his face, though was obscured from view by his helmet, upon his hearing his native tongue on the lips of the latter of the pair; a fact which brought a smile to his face. "Su cuy'gar, gentlemen." he began, motioning for them to have a seat, "I am Colonel Isley Verd, Commander of the Phantom Corps and Lord Commander of the Templar Rangers...wow, what a mouthful...Welcome to Bothawui." With that said, the Mandalorian returned to his chair and opened up the manilla folder which laid before him, containing the details of the report.

"At ease gentlemen...I'd like to know about the both of you. Tell me about your service records and your History."

@[member="RC-252 "Galaar""], @[member="Calico RC-247"].

Gravsen Conclave

This Wolf Still Has Teeth
Grade-A Mando'ade....fancy.

"Really nice planet. Temperate weather; it doesn't smell like Triple Zero." He began, still standing completely straight, shoulders square. His expression stayed rigid as he began to speak.

"Well, Colonel, Galaar and I were involed in the majority of the Clone Wars under the TacOps division of the GAR. I was a Sergeant with the operations of Fox Squad under my authority. Galaar was my XO, so-to-speak." He paused with his mouth hanging open. The words he had intended to speak simply died in his throat. What all should he actually tell this man? Surely he should have come up with a speech, or something impressive to say on the long flight from Coruscant; but he simply hadn't thought to.
The Sergeant chewed down on his lower lip as he stared into the Colonel's visor. His tongue was drier than the tombs of Korriban, and his lips refused to move in the correct fashion to form words.

Come on Sergeant. Get your osik all together.

"Born on Kamino. I was ARC, Galaar was Ar-Cee. I didn't make the cut for the ARC program; ended up falling in with Galaar and our other two lads. We shipped off on eighty-seven on record operations across the rim during the war." He paused to take a breath. "An order from the Chancellor's office had us investigating a derelict frigate near Korriban space. We entered, were assaulted by droids; incapacitated-- The Commando faltered for a moment. "Their kit was extraordinary. We were set in carbonite, studied for a few centuries, then dumped on Coruscant."

Calico finally opted to pull out a chair; collapsing into it like he had just returned from that wayward mission to rim-world space so very long ago. "Figured out what the Republic--the Empire did to us, so we made our way here."

@[member="Darth Metus"]

Galaar Tal'Verda

Just one more butchered soul.
Galaar grinned as he heard Mando'a in response. His posture suddenly dropped and became much more casual, quite the polar opposite to Calico who stood next to him. And at the command of at ease and sit, he instantly took a set, nearly slouching in the chair. So much for professionalism.

"Good to see another Mando'ade on this slag forgotten rock of kriffing politics and di'kut mongrel commanders, no offense to you of course." Even after he spoke that fool-hardy grin slapped back across his face and he looked toward Calico. "I think my vode here also forgot to mention what a kriffing good shot I am and what a wonderful, booming command voice he has. We really are quite the team. By the way... Have any Caf?"

It was obvious he met no disrespect, he was a soldier, that was true but he believed in banter between comrades and a little ideal called amusement. His gaze slowly returned and settled back on Isley. "Either way, its good to meet you, Colonel sir."

@[member="Calico RC-247"] @[member="Darth Metus"]