Kix Tal'Verda
Kixi - Tal'Verda Aliit'buir - Cereal Box Clone
The Gold Walk - Civilian Transport in the Orbit of Kashyyyk.
Prelude to the Bad Stuff
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Things were shaping up like any day in the lull for planet to planet travel from one end of the Galaxy to the other. The transport was beginning to lift off from one of Kashyyks larger spaceports, really the only that bussed travelers, scientists, and off-worlders. It was a smaller ship and carried perhaps ten passengers besides its crew. It was meant to take good paying customers from Kashyyyk to Onderon in a straight trip and was rather well renowned among the local human traders and wookiee hunters.
Aboard the ship sat a rather good sized warrior (whom was easy to identify as a Mando if one had the knowledge). He was rather well armed and fully armored, returning to his homespace from the south after a series of bounty jobs and bodyguard gigs. His bone-white armor deviated from the traditional Mandalorian style. It was an ancient piece of rig, one that was developed during The Clone Wars. The Katarn-Class rig, was however, painted with all kinds of Mandalorian symbols from his own clan's heraldry to that of Mandalore itself. The sinister T-shaped visor his people were know for was more square than most, more uniform and it glowed softly in the dim light of his side of the passenger hold with a vehement blue glare. Yet, for as intimidating as he could be he was rather sedate. Kix merely leaned in his chair with arms crossed, humming indistinguishably into his voice filter. His thoughts dwelling of home, a nice warm fire, his brothers to drink with, his father to visit and hear tales from. He was twenty-eight now, but he was always a kid in some respects, after all his body aged faster than his mind ever could.
Eventually he'd look up from his thoughts. His helmet would gaze at each member aboard the ship.
"Shaping up to be rather uneventful, eh?" Most averted from his gaze, though there were a few chuckles.
"No conversation? Even I get bored sometimes."
[member="Riletta Gaquier"]
Prelude to the Bad Stuff
--------------------------------------------------
Things were shaping up like any day in the lull for planet to planet travel from one end of the Galaxy to the other. The transport was beginning to lift off from one of Kashyyks larger spaceports, really the only that bussed travelers, scientists, and off-worlders. It was a smaller ship and carried perhaps ten passengers besides its crew. It was meant to take good paying customers from Kashyyyk to Onderon in a straight trip and was rather well renowned among the local human traders and wookiee hunters.
Aboard the ship sat a rather good sized warrior (whom was easy to identify as a Mando if one had the knowledge). He was rather well armed and fully armored, returning to his homespace from the south after a series of bounty jobs and bodyguard gigs. His bone-white armor deviated from the traditional Mandalorian style. It was an ancient piece of rig, one that was developed during The Clone Wars. The Katarn-Class rig, was however, painted with all kinds of Mandalorian symbols from his own clan's heraldry to that of Mandalore itself. The sinister T-shaped visor his people were know for was more square than most, more uniform and it glowed softly in the dim light of his side of the passenger hold with a vehement blue glare. Yet, for as intimidating as he could be he was rather sedate. Kix merely leaned in his chair with arms crossed, humming indistinguishably into his voice filter. His thoughts dwelling of home, a nice warm fire, his brothers to drink with, his father to visit and hear tales from. He was twenty-eight now, but he was always a kid in some respects, after all his body aged faster than his mind ever could.
Eventually he'd look up from his thoughts. His helmet would gaze at each member aboard the ship.
"Shaping up to be rather uneventful, eh?" Most averted from his gaze, though there were a few chuckles.
"No conversation? Even I get bored sometimes."
[member="Riletta Gaquier"]