Private Fun Guys

[Adonis Angelis IV]

BROSI

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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.

TAG: Lysander von Ascania

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[Lysander von Ascania]

Adonis Angelis IV​

Thoughts inevitably looped around the same contradiction. His home still stood on Shoegen, at least in name, watched over by a Governor who was practically an elder Sith sister. Since swearing oaths to the Covenant, not once did he make that return trip. That absence made its own sense when accounting for everything since Desevro, through the Tapani massacre, and the conquest of the Core. Lysander's hand had been on the throttle nonstop for the past year.

Working with Mandalorians wasn't unwelcome. Emissary duties had trained his mind well enough for alliances with unlikely partners, for standing beside them and finding ways to make the arrangement function. Still, this mission called for more than rhetoric... something closer to blood and breath.

Stepping back, the larger picture of what the Covenant wanted from the Mandalorian Empire, or what the Empire wanted in return, remained far hazier. Even with fondness for Brosi, respect for its beauty certainly did not blunt the knowledge that this world ranked among the deadliest hunting grounds in known space.

Ebony armor encased a lithe frame; the Helm of the Twin Suns sealed every expression. Wearing that helm was not so bad even in this hellish, wet humidity. The youthfulness underneath often invited doubts from others, so anonymity carried its own advantage. Movement through the forest came steady. Affection for the longsword remained, as always, though this terrain offered little ideal ground for its reach and sweep. Vines and branches stole so much space. Knowing the place was teeming with Sithspawn, Lysander had little enthusiasm for trying to hack such things down in close quarters, especially given how insanely fast some could move through brush. So, instead a curved hilt remained clipped at one side, complemented by one of Spore Industries' blaster rifle cradled over the chest.

Coordinates pulsed on the HUD, guiding steps forward, and even from afar the stature of the massive Mandalorian registered through breaks in the canopy. Lysander made no particular effort to conceal the approach. Once the Mandalorian's signal drew close, stealth became less a virtue than a good way to get shot.

"Angelis, I presume."

A cant of the helm marked the introduction. "Lysander. For the duration, the Covenant has decided you're stuck with me," came the voice through the vocoder; any warmth in the delivery was swallowed between breath and speaker.

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

The Force echoed differently through the trees that sprouted on Brosi. Something had catalyzed their growth, leaving the Dark Side pulsing through the very roots twisting beneath Adonis's beskar footing. He wasn't able to trace the origins of the magic used, but its roots absolutely stemmed from the Dark Side. It wasn't a surprise to the warrior, as Brosi had been nestled in the Sith's second state, practically in Korriban's backyard. It took several tries for the Warden to be granted access to coordinates to even make the jump safely. There was something dark playing here, but in honor of the new, albeit shaky, alliance with the Sith, Adonis decided not to give it more attention.

He was sure whatever he had been tasked with killing would be clue enough as to what evils were at play here.

There wasn't much more time for him to consider before the unmissable shiver of the Sith ran up his spine. Mandalorians spent their years training to take down Jedi and Sith alike, and much of Adonis's time with the Empire was used to hone those specific talents. He had it down to a feeling at this point. He could tell whoever approached carried considerable talent in the Force, with a presence steeped in the Dark Side. There was a gnawing at his spirit when he pushed further, like something taking a bite out of his soul.

Purposefully, most Force wielders chose some sort of cloaking to mask their presence in the Force, lest they project themselves to any outsiders who may wish them harm. Jedi concealed themselves out of caution and Sith out of cunning. Mandalorians had no such reservations about their power. If an enemy could feel Adonis coming, all the better. So the fact that Adonis could feel this much told him either the approaching Sith had no intention of hiding from him- or wanted Adonis to know exactly what was coming.

Turning to meet the Sith, Adonis took stock of the man. The Sith stood a bit shorter than Adonis did in his beskar'gam, though height was never a true measure of a warrior. Adonis knew better than to judge him based on that alone. Instead, he looked over the warrior's equipment with a discerning eye. The blackened armor covering the Sith's body carried a darkness of its own. It resonated against the presence suffocating the planet, simultaneously natural and profoundly inhuman. Whatever had been done to the armor, Adonis could feel that it went considerably deeper than blackened steel. He was ever more glad the Mandalorians stuck with their beskar.

"Angelis, I presume."

"Lysander. For the duration, the Covenant has decided you're stuck with me,"

The voice that came through the mask was covered by layers of vocoder and ambient sounds from the surrounding forest. Any defining characteristics that he would usually use to discern the speaker were unusable. However, even that didn't hide the distinct cadence of aristocracy. If anyone in the galaxy could call out the sound of a silver spoon baby, it was Adonis Angelis IV. Instead of calling it out immediately, the Mandalorian decided to hold onto it. When dealing with Sith, it was never smart to give your cards away too quickly.

Instead, the Warden of Vaal returned the nod of the helm.

"You can call me Adonis." He extended an arm in greeting. If Adonis had read him correctly, Lysander von Ascania 's upbringing would do the rest. "Mand'alor and House Angelis are pleased to be among the first to extend a hand under this new alliance." There was still a note of reservation in his tone that he hoped wasn't too noticeable through his vocoder. He wasn't stupid enough to endanger the political future of the alliance, but he also wasn't stupid enough to keep his guard down.

Just because it looked like they hadn't sent one of the creepy ones didn't mean he wasn't in for a surprise down the line.

"I have admittedly received very few details on why I was asked to give aid to the Sith." He adjusted his posture, the heavy blaster on his back shifting with it. He looked back toward the trees that swallowed up the horizon, littered with different types of fungi and plants. He was thankful for the climate control his beskar'gam offered, as he was sure the humidity was only going to get worse.

"So, Lysander..." he turned his visor back toward the other warrior. "What exactly lives in there that has the Sith asking Mandalorians for help?"

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[Lysander von Ascania]

Adonis Angelis IV​

"Well met, Adonis."

Lysander accepted the offered arm; to no surprise, it required far less mental gymnastics than untangling the many Sith schemes lately. Beneath those layers of plate, Ukatis remained fully operational, a few old lessons clicking neatly into place. His long ago tutors might've cheered that fact. Learning the road he ultimately chose would probably have turned that triumph bitter quickly enough. Much like the rest of his family.

Strange that an offered hand could feel foreign. Stranger still that Lysander found himself grateful he still recognized what to do with one. It was already more than most Sith offered strangers. Those closest to him were different, naturally, mainly remnants of academy years and friendships old enough to predate every gesture acquiring three competing interpretations.

"The sentiment's mutual. The Covenant owes Mand'alor and House Angelis considerable gratitude for answering."

The vocoder promptly stamped every word like a funeral pronouncement.

And rather than remain squared opposite the massive Mandalorian, Lysander shifted alongside him. His focus shifted toward dense fungal growth ahead. At the man's admission, Lysander nodded once. "Then I can reassure you that your government was not uniquely neglected. My briefing was somewhat more generous, but.. I wouldn't call it exhaustive. Several patrols stopped reporting from this region over the past few weeks. Search teams recovered equipment, blood, portions of armor.." His helm drifted toward the enormous growth swallowing the horizon. "The surviving reports describe Maelridae."

The name slipped into the air like a curse. "Sithspawn. These were originally bred from raptor stock and modified for.. well, considerably less civilized purposes. They're roughly three meters at maturity, and stupidly quick over open ground. They're also blind, which would ordinarily be comforting.."

The helm then turned back toward Adonis. "Except they don't require sight. They track movement and vibration. Footsteps, impacts, anything of the sort. The reports suggest a pack. Eight to ten at minimum. Possibly more. Which is.. also unusual. They typically gather in smaller numbers." One shoulder lifted with a note of nonchalance. "What doesn't make sense is who brought such a number to Brosi in the first place, why they've ventured this deep into the fungal thicket, or what fate befell whoever was skilled, or foolish enough to control them."

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

It was possible to learn a lot about a person from very little. Even when details were purposefully omitted by both sides- facial cues, body language, all the little betrayals that usually made someone easier to read. Adonis didn't need to see Lysander's face to recognize noble stock. Nor did he need much more to recognize a trained warrior. Mandalorians had a way of sniffing out competence before a blade was ever swung, a primal understanding akin to two predators discovering one another in the wild. Sizing up without threatening.

There was a recognition there that hadn't been there before, like Adonis had peeled back the layers and realized that below the armor they may be more alike than they thought. You could tell a lot about a person, but it was impossible to tell everything about them with such a limited interaction. There was never a time to let your guard down around a Sith, much like the rest of the galaxy felt around Mandalorians. Still, Adonis was finding more and more instances of the Sith being far more complex than the boogeymen they were made out to be.

Then Lysander von Ascania got into the details of the mission. Of course it was Sithspawn.

The name alone conjured something dark. Maelridae. The kind of invocation that brought forth gnashing teeth and blood. Images of a blind enraged raptor racing toward them at insane speeds started flashing through the Warden's head. He focused the sensor array on his HUD to scan the impending forest for heat signatures and life forces. A bad move on his part, because while he did not see any raptor Sithspawn, he did see the living breathing forest before him. The heat signatures were moving rapidly, giving him a brief glimpse into the lush hellscape they might be walking into. Under his buy'ce- faint enough his vocoder didn't pick it up- he gulped and quickly switched it to the usual setting.

Sometimes, it was better to not know. It wasn't like Adonis would be sneaking up on anything, anyway. If the creatures hunted vibrations, he imagined he'd already introduced himself. So he did what Mandalorians were best at, he straightened his posture once more, shifting the strap of the repeater blaster over to have it ready at a moment's notice.

"Sounds lovely."

He exhaled loudly, this time audible through his helm. He never got asked to do anything fun. Swimming would have been nice.

"Lead the way."