Muad Dib
Paragon of Virtue
Eriu, the planet to fall back to in an emergency. The hide a hole. The reprieve from the storm. One of the last strongholds.
"It's pretty."
The madman chuckled as he looked out one of the portholes on the shipping Corvette. He decided to arrive as just another mando'ad. It wasn't that he was hiding but rather that he didn't need or desire any welcome party. He was just slipping in for a nice conversation with a vod before heading back out. A real quick trip. His beskar'gam was stowed in his pack that lay by his feet. Yet the vambraces and boots he wore along with various weapons. The brown trousers and tan long sleeve shirt was the uniform of the day.
The ship settled on the landing pad and the ramp began lowering as the handful of passengers began lining up to disembark. Sighing the man slipped the shades on to conceal the glow of his eyes before picking up his pack and tossing it over his left shoulder, opposite of the beskad peeking over his right shoulder. Quickly he made his way from the Corvette before they began unloading it and anyone began to ask questions.
Making his way down the walkways he held out an ID chip the Corvette gave their passengers to surrender to security. Proof of how they arrived and when. Easy enough. Soon he was following another walkway to a small settlement. Concealing a smirk he deactivated the small holo map from his gauntlet. The settlement was filled with ships, speeders, and miscellaneous engines scattered about. Either this was one of Gilamar's infamous workshops or he had found the Clan Gred residence.
Smirking he walked in, aware he was already being watched, and made his way to a forge next to a bar. Tossing a few credits to the bartender he collected a flagon of ale and two mugs before moving to one of the empty tables to watch the Smith forge a piece of metal into a work or art. Pouring a drink he kicked up his feet and let his pack rest next to his chair before removing his shades to set on the tabletop.
In a galaxy filled with so many races, species, and force alignments the shades of eye color were plentiful. But when you spoke of glowing eyes the common colors were variations of red and yellow. But bright blue brought a specific Mando to mind. The man chuckled and took another drink while waiting for the Alor,
Mig Gred
, to appear.
"It's pretty."
The madman chuckled as he looked out one of the portholes on the shipping Corvette. He decided to arrive as just another mando'ad. It wasn't that he was hiding but rather that he didn't need or desire any welcome party. He was just slipping in for a nice conversation with a vod before heading back out. A real quick trip. His beskar'gam was stowed in his pack that lay by his feet. Yet the vambraces and boots he wore along with various weapons. The brown trousers and tan long sleeve shirt was the uniform of the day.
The ship settled on the landing pad and the ramp began lowering as the handful of passengers began lining up to disembark. Sighing the man slipped the shades on to conceal the glow of his eyes before picking up his pack and tossing it over his left shoulder, opposite of the beskad peeking over his right shoulder. Quickly he made his way from the Corvette before they began unloading it and anyone began to ask questions.
Making his way down the walkways he held out an ID chip the Corvette gave their passengers to surrender to security. Proof of how they arrived and when. Easy enough. Soon he was following another walkway to a small settlement. Concealing a smirk he deactivated the small holo map from his gauntlet. The settlement was filled with ships, speeders, and miscellaneous engines scattered about. Either this was one of Gilamar's infamous workshops or he had found the Clan Gred residence.
Smirking he walked in, aware he was already being watched, and made his way to a forge next to a bar. Tossing a few credits to the bartender he collected a flagon of ale and two mugs before moving to one of the empty tables to watch the Smith forge a piece of metal into a work or art. Pouring a drink he kicked up his feet and let his pack rest next to his chair before removing his shades to set on the tabletop.
In a galaxy filled with so many races, species, and force alignments the shades of eye color were plentiful. But when you spoke of glowing eyes the common colors were variations of red and yellow. But bright blue brought a specific Mando to mind. The man chuckled and took another drink while waiting for the Alor,
Mig Gred
, to appear.
