For those of us about to die, we salute you!

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Loovria
Gladiatorial Arena
0900 Hours

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"​

​

​

The titanic arena shook with the overwhelming blood lust of the crowd, they raised their hands in cheer, in celebration of some barbaric holiday. The 'sport' did what it could to distract the populace from their pathetic lives, it took away their troubles while they basked in the blood and gazed upon the shattered skulls. The rich hid away in their lavish balconies where they placed bets and bid on slaves, it didn't matter who won. 'We all lose, nobody wins at this game.'​

​

Below the beckoning stands, behind the massive durasteel doors, far down the stone halls stood the man, the hero. The Mandalorian.​

​

A crowd favorite, a man who butchered his own team to stay alive. A man who had won countless victories time and time again at the age of only nineteen, an underdog turned local champion. He didn't see the honor in the sport any longer, the promise of freedom slipped away with each passing day. None of these unlucky pawns would ever see the light of day beyond the arena, it would be their life, it would be their grave. ​

​

Tor'r stood in line with the rest of the slaves, ready for combat, ready to be slaughtered for the amusement of the masses. Unlike the others however, he would not die this day. He had prepared for over a year now, ever since their return to Loovria, he had memorized everything from the schedule of the cell guards to their preference in food. He noted the hideouts for the rich and the 'head honchos' who called the shots. Some of the others knew of his plan, his chance. They were trust worthy, they would help him escape or suffer the fate he knew rested for him today. Hell he'd wager at least a million credits that they were going to set him up to fall today, big profit, big hero. ​

​

Everyone liked to see a hero fall.​

​

The durasteel doors opened and the roar of the crowd filled the stone tunnels underneath the arena. The lines began to march out, march to their doom, Tor'r growled under his breath. It was time.​

​

[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]​

​

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

Loovia
Gladiatorial Arena
0900 Hours
Objective: Find his blood

Kix had heard rumors. Rumors of a man who called himself Tal'Verda, a man who had claimed descent from the Mandalorians but who fought as a pit slave. His scouts he had dispatched even reported the same and so he had set out across to stars with two possible goals in mind: save a wayward brother from a life unfitting of him or to slay an impostor and whatever slavers put him up to it. Either way, it was a clear cut mission for the honor of his clan.

Kix stood in the higher rows of the ring, clad in his full armor. It proudly distinguished him as a Mando and bore his clan's heraldry. Eight of his pod warriors were spread across the great circular structure, awaiting his command. He first wanted to see what this warrior had him, however. Gladiatorial rings in his culture were far different, most weren't to the death for losing the honor of your aliit was death enough. The arenas were also smaller. This world was disgusting in all regards, men shouldn't be kept as slaves, and as much as battle was imbued in Mando culture this was wrong.

A chilling cackle of static broke the silence in his helmet was one of his brothers reported, then another, and so on. The deft hands of time were moving and he only hoped they'd move faster.

[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

The slaves marched on, the light of day piercing the very souls of each and everyone of them, one could almost smell the fear beneath the sweat that covered them. Halfway down the center rank marched the Mandalorian, Tor'r watched his fellow slaves enter the battlefield and soon he too followed into the massive arena. The earth quaked, the crowd roared with an inhuman thirst for blood, they chanted to the warriors below. ​

​

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"​

​

Tor'r looked up as his face touched the sunlight, he glared into the horde of spectators watching his every move. Playing the part the warrior raised his vibrosword one last time into the sky, he roared a declaration of survival, a primal call to the animals that he called fans. Turning his attention back to the moment he watched as the large durasteel door sealed behind them, thirty men entered the battlefield, only one was meant to survive.​

​

Each warrior drew their blades as they circled around each other, dozens of reluctant face-offs emerged and Tor'r found himself at odds with a Abyssan warrior. He circled his foe with his vibrosword drawn and his shield at the ready, he bowed his head slightly giving respect to his opponent. He received only a cold stare and inaudible bark from under his opponent's breath. The long horn sounded off, the games began.​

​

The fighters of the arena charged forth, crashing into each other's shields. Blood spilled across the arena as the crowd went wild. Tor'r kept his thoughts focused and his blade steady, the Abyssan warrior charged with a ferocious battle cry as he leapt into the young Mandalorian's shield. Blade clashed with blade, shield to shield, the warriors danced the dance of war, and within mere moments the young warrior found an opening in his foe's movements.​

​

Allowing the Abyssan to crash into his shield one last time, the young warrior spun around cutting at the beast's tendons. The Abyssan fell as blood splattered across the sand, the Mandalorian turned as his foe stumbled to get back at him. Swiftly recalling his blade, his elbow fell back and subsequently sprang forward his arm as his vibrosword plunged into the chest of his foe. His opponent inhaled sharply before Tor'r kicked him off his blade, the beast fell onto the sand, dead.​

​

Scanning the battlefield quickly for his fellow slave comrades he whistled in hopes of attracting their attention, the sooner they started the plan the better, they needed to move while they still had numbers. His plan backfired with the sudden arrival of three others looking to take the young Mandalorian's honor, Tor'r readied his blade, he would not die today.​

​

​

[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]​

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

<"If he's wounded intervene brothers. I'm marking him on your HUDs.> Kix stated within his fishbowl mic to his compatriots. In his eyes and those of his brothers, Tor'r was not outlined in a bold red to distinguish him from the rest of the slaves. Kix was hoping with everything in his gut this was the man. He matched the description the prior scouts had given and the ferocity, but how could they be sure? They were picking a needle in a haysack, either way, to end this blood sport and bring freedom to these men would be a worthy task in its own right.

<"He fights like a beast."> Kix heard over the chatter in his comms.

<"He'd be valuble asset in an engagement, long lost brother or not."> Murmured their singular female companion.

<"If nothing more happens, we move on five.>"

Kix gave the order and he could hear the clicks of weapons preparing under mics. His hands discreetly fell to his own pistol and armed it, preparing it for combat.

[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Lunging forward the three slaves closed in on their target, their movements were sloppy, careless. The Mandalorian took his time carefully observing the approaching foes, each warrior approached with weapons capable of shattering bone and carving through flesh like butter. A lone sweat bead fell down the young warrior's face as time seemed to slow, he would taste freedom today even if he had to pry it from every last one of their cold dead hands.​

​

The first opponent, a Twi'lek male, came forth with a sudden lunge of his vibroblade. Tor'r stepped to the side of his enemy's lunge, he tried to take Tor'r then and there. The blow would of split the Mandalorian in half, however his enemy was sloppy in his approach, that would cost him. Raising his blade outward toward his enemy's throat, Tor'r slit open the Twi'lek's neck before turning his attention to the two others coming forward. The body of his foe fell as the second foe laid into his shield with his warhammer, battering down the young warrior.​

​

Falling to one knee the Mandalorian took the punishment of the warhammer as it broke into the shield, gritting his teeth the warrior rose his shield upward in a brave attempt to stagger his opponent. His shield crashed into the chest of the tall wookiee, knocking the beast back as he roared in anger. Wasting no time his third opponent capitalized on the situation slashing at his rising foe with his dual daggers wildly in an attempt to put down the Mandalorian.​

​

Moving his blade to block the first dagger, he was met with the second dagger across his chest, enough to cause some bleeding. Without hesitation Tor'r headbutted the warrior knocking him onto his back, watching the wookiee approach once more with his warhammer the Mandalorian stood fast. Throwing all his weight into the next overhand swing the wookiee crashed down, unfortunately not on his target. Rolling out of the way, the warrior watched as the wookiee relentlessly crushed his comrade with his weapon of choice.​

​

Roaring with an intense anger, the wookiee foe abandoned his warhammer and lunged at the Mandalorian. Caught by surprise Tor'r was picked up by the throat, dropping his shield as he was choked by the furry beast. Tor'r thrashed about violently trying to break the wookiee's grip before plunging his sword into his opponent, again and again and again. The feral brute continued even as he screamed in agony, it wouldn't be long before he'd run out of air or worse have his neck broken by the wookiee.​

​

​

[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]​

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

Kix watched the event unfold and couldn't help but surprised. The warrior fought tooth and nail against three men, never relenting, never faltering. Even if he wasn't truly a Tal'Verda he had earned his keep as far as Kixi was concerned. The clone would save this man and give him a space in the Clan, should he so accept. However, in the blink of an eye the fight turned against his unknowing comrade. It was time to intervene within this honorless pit of blood.

<"Kayla, aim the verpine for the wookiee's lower back and fire on my mark...">

His command was headed with a quick affirmative over the mics. Kix patiently waited until Tor'r's blade sunk into the wookiee once more.

<"Mark!">

The silent weapon fired from directly beyond the wookiee. The needle whizzed through the air faster than anyone could see and would impact directly as the Tor'r's blade sunk into its furred flesh with a nice blood spray. To an untrained eye it would seem as if Tor'r scored the final blow as the creature bellowed its last roar before releasing the Mando and falling limp.

<"Reload.">

[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

One two, three.....lots of possible contacts. Sylvanan sat where he was needed--right over the arena. To most, he looked to be an oddly dressed spectator, which was fine. Better they not know he would put them down on a single order from Kix. The Medic leaned back in his seat, absentmindedly filing away each word spoke across the comms for later thought. If he was needed, then the order would be given. Until that point, he was content to watch the show. If the young man below was ripped apart, Sylvanan would put him back together. Such was the way of things.

<"Think we could take the wookie back with us? I've been wanting a new fur coat. It gets a bit cold on Mandalore."> He quipped with deadpan seriousness. Gloved fingers sifted through a bag of hotcakes--little treats that the concessions gave out at a ridiculous price. It was robbery, but he found he just couldn't fight his urges. Hot cakes were too lovely.

He slid one of the sticky buns through a tiny slit in his helmet, and chewed thoughtfully. Perhaps they'd start shooting soon. The slit closed with two rapid blinks, and he breathed a quiet sigh. Nothing would ever beat a good hot cake.

[member="Kix Tal'Verda"] [member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

The blood scattered across the body of the Mandalorian as he fell from the grasp of the now dead wookiee, the crowd roared as the battleground intensified. Tor'r looked to the stands for what truly had killed his opponent, the splatter evident enough to prove that the finishing blow came from the other side of the beast. Through his quick scan of the crowd he saw nothing but the thousands of blurred faces that made up the spectators. He didn't even know who to look for, all he had was to finish his plan.

Whistling once more, four companions rushed from the battle to his aid. Pulling the sunken blade from the wookiee's corpse, the Mandalorian began relaying orders to the slave comrades. Sprinting alongside the large durasteel door the four began placing a strange clay substance on the door catching the attention of the guards. Tor'r began pounding on his shield to get the remaining warriors' attention. Soon enough more came to his side as many stopped fighting to see what was transpiring.

"My brothers! My sisters! It is time! For too long we have suffered under their might. We are no slaves, we are warriors! They want blood, let's give them blood!"

The durasteel blew open as the explosive clay went off, the homemade bomb was a success as the slaves poured toward the stone halls. Guards opened fire on the slaves as they made their escape into the underground tunnels, it wouldn't be long before they resurfaced to take vengeance on those who put them under their thumb.


[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]
[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

"Well. This suddenly got interesting... Ner'vod. Weapons free, weapons free. Kill the guards and help the slaves, try and keep collateral to a minimum unless they attack you. Oya!"

The order was given and Kix's team would begin expertly dispatching hapless guards from the crowds of panicking citizens caught in what was now a slave riot and a Mando prison break. Kix, himself, hurried down towards the arena was he went capping several guards with pistol. The crowd parting at the sight, sound, and general presence of the heavily armored warrior.

"The Mandalorian is our priority, secure him and meet at the HWK-290 for extraction. Sylvanan, on me." He shouted into the comms as he suddenly vaulted down onto the sand floor of the arena. Kix quickly moved towards the smoldering remains of the door left by the bomb as he did so, his pistol flaring blue bolts at a couple guards along the edge of the ring firing at the slaves.

This was going to be a fun day.

[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]
[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

And so it began. Sylvanan had served both in the Republic and One Sith armies. He had fought on Alderaan, Coruscant and--to put it short, the soldier was experienced. He pushed up to his feet, pulling free his DC-17 from the folds of his jacket. One single guard was nearby, a Twi'lek, and that Twi'lek turned to stare up at him in horror. The guards rarely dealt with much beyond angry slaves, Sylvanan was positive. The guard's eyes widened in terror as he realized what was happening. He dropped his rifle, and held his hands up.

Sylvanan brought the Deece up one handed and put a bolt between the guard's eyes. The Twi'lek slumped down to the ground with a thud, urging the civilians nearby to get a move on. The soldier whistled.

"Second though. Snakeskin. I'll take a snakeskin. "Sylvanan snickered. His eyes flickered over to Kix's icon on his HUD--the di'kut was farther away than Sylvanan had thought. Grumbling a silent curse, the Mando sifted through the horde of panicking citizens, not even bothering to off the guards that came near. They were running too.

It didn't take particularly long to sprint up to Kix, though the act had been rather annoying. People only moved when you pointed a piece of kit at them.

"Su'cuy di'kut. Where's our newest little boy? Can I have him?"


[member="Kix Tal'Verda"] [member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Leading the charge through the stone tunnels, the Mandalorian rallied the slaves and various warriors to his cause. Any and all guards who stood in the way of this insurmountable force were washed away in the sea of red left in their wake. No one had expected this day to come, the nobles and various wealthy patrons of arena took flight from their balconies and lavish areas. Nothing had prepared them for this day, nothing would stop the slaves from claiming their vengeance, from claiming their freedom.

Kicking open a metal gate, the young warrior quickly lunged into a nearby human sentry with his blade plunging into the man's chest. Waves upon waves of slaves filled the area as they moved out of the underground tunnels into one of the open areas of the ground floor. Armed sentries opened fire onto the horde as the unified front overwhelmed the arena's defenses. Pulling out his blade, Tor'r made haste through the lobby as he passed the crashing waves of slaves and spectators now rushing out of the stands.

He had dreamed of this day for years.

Memories flooded his mind of the various hardships he suffered under, the mother he was taken from, the slave master who drove him to kill his 'family'. Speeding his way up the stairwell, Tor'r approached the lair of his caretaker and slave master, the infamous Taji'ric Veram'dun. A weasel of a man, the male muun was wealthy beyond measure yet was an outcast among his own people for his choice of lifestyle. Instead of joining the InterGalactic Banking Clan he spent his vast resources and time investing in the Gladiatorial Arenas and slavery as a whole.

The man was cold, ruthless, and greedy beyond measure. He deserved to be brought to justice, Tor'r's justice.

Crashing through the wooden door, the young warrior entered a lavish room decorated in fine arts, holostatues, and hardwood floors. Tor'r gazed in each direction looking for the coward, "Where are you hiding!?"


[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]
[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

Kix turned his helmet towards Sylvanan. A grin crossed his face under the plate, not that anyone could see. "Its ori di'kut to you, chakaar." He slapped the man on the shoulder before breaking into another jog into the wrecked ruins of the arena foundry. He was rather impressed by the paint job of red left by the slaves as they cut a gory swath that was easy enough to follow. The terrified screams and wails made it rather easy as well.

The lobby, however, was a complete osikstorm. Blaster armed guards swapped bolts of red energy with the slaves leftover by the coursing horde. A few on the upper level were engaged in a horrendous melee with the blade armed slaves that found their way to the stairs. Kix, decided to aid, as he sprinted across the room he sprayed several of the guards with his deecee. A few of them fell dead while the others dropped to the ground wounded or terrified. The smell of blood was rank within the circular room.

"This could have been a lot easier, eh ner'vod?" He mouthed to Sylvanan before looking over his HUD. He motioned down the hall he had tracked Tor'r down. His boots then clattered off again.

[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

"Big guy. Big gun." Sylvanan quipped as his sole reply. He followed close behind Kix, tearing though two guards with his Deece. The weapon was starting to get hot. The Mando mumbled a silent curse under his breath as the 'big guy'-- a Gammorean hefting an old wookie rocket system over his shoulder-- took aim at the two commandos. There a moment of pause, and then the very loud and characteristic 'whump' s the explosive shell cleared the firing chamber. It sailed across the lobby, and impacted a few paces behind the two commandos.

Bodies accompanied with bloodcurdling screams were ripped from tendon and bone and strewn across the lobby. Sylvanan was sent stumbling forward, otherwise unmolested. Shields were a lovely invention. He took cover behind an overturned desk, and looked just over the wooden counter top. The Gammorean was forcing another shell into the launcher.

"When we kill it, I want the launcher. It matches my armor." He asked into the comms. The soldier lobbed himself over the table, and fired his Deece into the Gammorean's skull. The over sized pig creature squealed and toppled over with a wet thud.

"I'm coming back for you baby." he whispered as he sprinted over the launcher, following dutifully after Kix. "Just wait for me."

[member="Kix Tal'Verda"] [member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Crash! The nineteen year old slave ravaged through the wealthy slaver's chamber in a frenzy, he was out for blood, he was out for justice. Tossing over a nearby table, a small vase came crashing into the ground as he smashed and crushed everything valuable he came across within arm's reach. Moving across the room the Mandalorian roared,

"WHERE ARE YOU!... COME OUT YOU SWINE!"

Inhaling and exhaling at a rapid pace, the heavy breathing of the savage gladiator was broken with the sudden arrival of the man he sought. Striding forth into the decorated chamber came the slaver himself along with two Gammorean Bodyguards armed with heavy blaster rifles. Taji'ric shook his head back and forth with a smug grin as he lit up a death stick, he remained calm despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him for escaping the arena alive. "Did you think you could just walk into here and take me out just like that? Hmph. A childish misconception. Boys."

Snap.

The slaver snapped his fingers triggering the two bodyguards to act, they fired upon the Mandalorian with their blaster rifles, tearing to shreds everything that came within their aim. Diving behind one of the stone pedestals that held one of the many works of art that adorned the chamber, Tor'r readied his blade, twirling the vibrosword in his right hand. Within mere moments the firing stopped, the slaver quipped, "Had enough?"

Rising up the Mandalorian threw his vibrosword through the air cutting a deadly path to it's target, within seconds the blade made impact with the chest of the slaver. Ramming through the torso of Taji'ric the vibrosword stuck halfway through forcing the two bodyguards to pause in horror. Tor'r growled under his breath, "Anyone else?"

The two Gammoreans looked at each other before turning tail to flee the chamber, good thing too he was unarmed now.


@[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]
@[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

The rocket exploded behind Kix. The blast was off enough that it barely staggered him, given his thick shell of Katarn. There were sparks across his back where shrapnel slammed into the armoring and blood drooled from a couple of the new indentures. The readout on his HUD assured him he was fine, it just hurt like hell. He quickly reeled behind cover either way.

"Kark it all. I hate flesh wounds." He hissed loudly into the comms and listened as his companion gunned down the Gammorian. From his position he saw one of the flithy pigs lining a shot up on Sylvanan as he finished off another slave. Kix deftly peaked his gun out and quick burst spelled the creatures death.

"You almost lost your head, Sy'ika."

He then finally ducked into the hallway he saw their quarry enter.

@[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

@[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

"I'll put it in a nice safe back home so it doesn't happen again boss." Sylvanan grunted as he pumped another magazine into the Deece. Most rifles could last for hours of sustained fire--not the Deece. It traded quantity for quality, at least that was how he liked to word it. It made the explanation easier.

He broke off after Kix, moving at a somewhat casual jog down the hall. He made a point to shove any of the civilians that happened to be too slow in their escape out of the way. The less innocent blood that was spilled here, the better. The Mando'ade were here to free slaves after all!

He caught sight of motion on his HUD. Not the usual motion of a dozen beings fleeing, but something slower and more calculated away from the main mass. It sprouted off from the hall the young man had trudged down. It had to be him. Sylvanan turned sharp on his heel as he reached the door. "Found the adi'ke."

The Mando paused at the door, cocking his head back as he caught sight of Tor'r. "Hehe, you're gonna be fun when we play darts ner'vod." Sylvanan rumbled with laughter and motioned to the Muun's corpse. "Real fun."

@[member="Kix Tal'Verda"] @[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Rising up after the two cowardly Gammoreans took their leave, the Mandalorian gazed at the lifeless body of the now dead Muun slaver. Tor'r spit in the direction of his former master's corpse, "Good riddance."

"Hehe, you're gonna be fun when we play darts ner'vod." Tor'r's eyes shifted to the doorway where a strange man stood dressed in armor, the young warrior followed the stranger's notion towards his recent kill. "Real fun." He raised a brow at the last words spoken by the newcomer, "You're not another goon are you?"

Humming outside the chamber's balcony which provided a clear opening into the room, hovered a large dropship of strange design. Below the cockpit of the hovering dropship adjusted a small repeater turret controlled via the pilot above, obviously it was supposed to be this rich deadbeat's way out. Tor'r's eyes widened as he screamed out, "Oh feth." The repeater turret fired into the chamber upon spotting the dead body, aiming to tear apart the two intruders as it broke apart the room piece by piece.

Dropping back down behind the cover of the pedestal, the room tore apart from the enemy vessel's oppressing fire. Pictures, furniture, and various surviving works of art were destroyed under the intensity of laser fire unleashed by the dropship.

@[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]
@[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Kix Tal'Verda]

Kix quickly lunged out of the door as the repeater began its havoc upon the room. He quickly replaced the muzzle of Deecee with its anti-armor attachment. The bulky grenade tube sat a top the stubby weapon like an tiny sarlaac nested inside the body of a decaying hutt. The clone then pulled a grenade canister and shoved it into the loading chamber. Ca'buir lied when he told me a gun was a like a woman, this thing is like a Trandoshan. He mulled to himself.

"We're not goons. We're here to rescue you, though, you've been making that rather difficult." He roared through his loud speaker into the room. "Now! I advise you keep your heads down lest you end up in shabala bits!"

His feet stepped into the door and he leaned from the precipice of his cover.

Wump! Wump!

The sound resonated deeply in the room as the two red, smoking orbs of death flew towards the window. The first impacted on the side and sent wood, stone, and other such building materials flying. The second hit the dropship right on the muzzle with a firey blast, batting the ship away with a screech of concussive force.

"Oya! Sooran, shab! Chakaars!"

@[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]
@[member="Sylvanan Glass"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

"A dropship? When did we get so popular?" Sylvanan breathed, exasperated. No one had said anything about any kind of air support. "I like a little bit more intel with my intel." The Mando hissed as the repeated opened up.

Sylvanan's shields were nothing to spit at. They held their own most of the time, and the armor itself could keep him safe in most situations. Now was not one of those times. He pitched forward in a desperate roll toward one of the nearby columns, his teeth vibrating as two bolts slapped him hard in the chest plate. The first killed his shields, the second pummeled his plating. He pushed himself hard against the back of the column, repeater fire flying past him on both sides.

"Remember when I wanted to take that Wookie launcher?" Sylvanan snapped into the helmet comm. "This is why!"

Whoosh!

The dropship sailed down toward the ground in a trail of flames. Sylvanan poked his head out, scanning for their query. "if you're alive say aye.....aye! Say it di'kut."

@[member="Kix Tal'Verda"] @[member="Tor'r Tal'Verda"]

 

[Tor'r Tal'Verda]

Tor'r took cover as one of the strangers fired his weapon twice momentarily connecting the hovering vessel with an explosion of fire each time it was hit. Wood and debris flew from the hit points as the dropship trailed down to it's grave on the sandy battlefield below. A fitting grave.

Smoke filled the air for a brief moment before clearing, the young warrior rose to meet his 'rescuers' face to face. "Yeah I'm good." Striding forward toward the strangers, the Mandalorian took a moment to study them, "Mandalorians. I've met a few others before you but never got the same courtesy you gave me, they tried to stab first ask questions later... didn't care if I was one of them. Blood apparently doesn't mean anything here... it's all red."

The nineteen year old freed slave inhaled deeply, his first breath of freedom. Turning to who he assumed was the leader the warrior spoke freely, "What do a bunch of Mandalorians want with lil' ol' me?" Moving his attention back to the fallen corpse of the Muun, Tor'r slowly strode over towards the dead body and pulled forth his blade from the lifeless body's torso.

Spinning around to his apparent newfound allies, he sheathed his vibrosword and stood before them awaiting their response.


@[member="Kix Tal'Verda"]
@[member="Sylvanan Glass"]