The Warden of Vaal
BROSI
This was nothing like Onderon.
They told him it would be like Onderon- a few beasts here, some foliage there, wicked humidity. That was doable. Onderon was doable. But Brosi? This was another beast entirely. Brosi had mushrooms and Sithspawn. When Adonis was a young boy, the planet was an industrial capital, known for its many refineries. Adonis knew because he remembered seeing business ads for it in his father's holo-mail when he was younger. The Warden couldn't quite remember what specifically it was known for refining, but it wasn't vegetation.
The massive plants before him were alive, but not in the way plants should be. No matter where he went, it felt like he was being watched- sized up by something much bigger than he was. Adonis hoped he was wrong, but he wasn't stupid enough to assume so. He kept his head on a swivel, his HUD constantly reading the distance and picking up on any motion he couldn't see.
"Just like Onderon my ass." He grumbled under his breath as he went deeper into the foliage.
He had been sent to Brosi by Mand'alor himself. As part of the new agreements between the Sith factions and the Mandalorian Empire, he wanted to foster relations in good faith. Apparently, there was something deeper in the growth troublesome enough that the Sith had asked for Mandalorian assistance. Instead of sending troops to their deaths, Mand'alor and the Sith had decided to handle it effectively. Adonis had agreed eagerly. He wasn't too keen on joining with the Sith, but if they could find common ground in a quality hunt, then that was a start at least.
Standing seven feet high in his beskar'gam, doused in ivory and gold, subterfuge was not going to be a viable approach on this mission. The brazen eight-pointed star on his chest shone brightly. Whatever the Sith planet had to offer, Adonis Angelis IV would meet it in kind. At his side hung the hilt of his broadsaber. Mighty and strong as it was, the densely packed jungle was not an optimal place for such a blade. To supplement it, the Mandalorian carried his beskad at his side. It had been far too long since he had drawn blood with beskar. It would be a good change of pace.
Slung across his back was a repeater rifle, heavy and cumbersome to most, but Adonis wasn't like most. He wore it more akin to a backpack than a deadly weapon. No outfit was complete without jewelry- a bandolier of grenades with various effects hung loosely over his shoulder and across his beskar.
Whatever was in these forests- and he was sure there was something- would have to deal with everything a Mandalorian had at his disposal. Mand'alor had sent one of his biggest and strongest. Adonis hoped the Sith had sent someone on par with him; he didn't want to have to carry anyone.
He also hoped they didn't send anyone too creepy.
