Private Into the Deep

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

RAXIS PRIME

In the span of recent months, Mandalorian society had begun to move along currents that Aether himself had not foreseen. The blood and iron of his people remained ever present, yet in the shadow of his throne there had grown a rising tide of those who excelled beyond the clash of war. Their genius expressed itself in the realms of science, their ambition shaped industry, and their curiosity drove them to explore beyond the boundaries of familiar stars. This was no challenge to the Mandalorian spirit, but rather an evolution of it, and Aether had no hesitation in embracing such change. He called for those whose talents could not be measured solely by the edge of a blade or the barrel of a rifle, and from them he formed a small cadre with a singular purpose.

The task that lay before them was not one of conquest, but of reclamation. The Mask of Mandalore, shattered long ago by a predecessor whose reasons were buried with him, had slowly been pieced together across decades of searching. Every fragment but one had been recovered. The final piece was said to have fallen into the hands of a collector whose obsession with relics had been rivaled only by his wealth. He had hoarded the treasures of the past until death claimed him, and in his vanity he had sealed them away within his resting place, fashioning a tomb that was more temple than grave.

Raxis Prime held that temple still, hidden within the heart of a lagoon. From the waters rose a pyramid of flawless marble, its walls pale as bone, each face polished to a mirrored sheen that reflected the skies above. The edifice stood solitary, an island unto itself, surrounded by the stillness of the lagoon. Its presence was not mournful, but proud, as though the collector’s spirit demanded that all who gazed upon it acknowledge his wealth even in eternity.

It was upon this silent sanctuary that the Mandalorian squad made their arrival. Their approach carried no banners nor fanfare, only the hiss of landing struts and the firm resolve of their purpose. Aether stepped from the vessel at their fore, the Sole Ruler unflinching as his eyes drank in the sight of the pyramid. The entrance lay before them, promising both danger and reward, for no man so covetous as the collector would allow his treasures to lie unguarded. Already his chosen squad began their assessment, their eyes and instruments probing every seam and shadow for traps, while Aether himself regarded the tomb with a quiet certainty. They had not come this far to be denied.​

Soliane Desari

 

[Soliane Desari]

INTO THE DEEP​

Location – Raxus Prime
Objectives – Find a way to open the Collector's vault
Tags – Aether Verd
Paraphernalia – Outfit


An adventurer, an artefact hunter, it was not only a title, it was a way of life, a state of being. One grows up in the shadows of their elder, following their footsteps and feigning knowledge of the ancient tombs, only for them to miraculously alter their layout. Arrogance was their downfall, but somehow also their defining trait. But not only that, they knew where to look, they knew what they were looking for (most of the time). This time around, it was the infamous tomb of the Collector -- some madman who was hoarding relics as if they were nothing more than scrap. The tales that went around boasted about him having legendary artefacts from the time of Tulak Hord. Whilst it was likely a bluff, Soliane refused to let such an opportunity go down the waste.

Her ship landed a mile or two away from the late Collector's base of operations. Her hand instinctively grabbing the bag with her items: her energy scanner, a grappling hook, the classical lockpicking device (a bit oldschool), and a few bars of food. Enough to survive the day. Before departing the spacecraft, gazing out at the tall marbled settlement in the distance. A marvel, but an obnoxious one, how would one even breach that place? Whilst every tomb had a maze, there was always a kind of system to it... This, however? Who knew... Sol began to study the palace in all its might, the Sun shining brightly upon it, making it nigh on blinding to lay her gaze upon. Marble, it should be easier to carve than most stones, but who knew how thick the layer was that shaped the walls? It was enough of a hunch to go on for now.

It was only after some minutes had slipped by that she reached the lagoon, gazing out over the shallow -- vividly coloured -- waters. The Chandrilan foolishly got on her knees, her green breeches getting dirty as she reached out and gently let her hand graze the water's surface. Jado would have yelled at her for making such a mistake, what if it had been poisonous? Fortunately, it appeared not to be and was fairly lukewarm due to the constant sunlight blessing it. Sol reached out for her grappling hook inside her bag, before beginning to walk through the lagoon... The water reaching up until her breast as she neared the middle. Oh, if only she had been born taller-

After that, she cast the hook again and again, until at last it caught upon one of the tomb's layers. With impressive, yet futile, effort she began her ascent, climbing its faces step by step, rising first to one layer and then the next, until she stood atop the marbled tomb. There she spotted a narrow gap. About a few inches, subtle, but when prodded, it seemed it might yield an entrance. "Please let this work, please-" Soliane murmured to herself in encouragement, before grabbing her tools and beginning to pick at the stone.

​

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

RAXIS PRIME

Aether moved to the edge of the pyramid, one gloved hand rising to press flat against the marble wall before him. The surface was smooth, almost unnatural in its polish, and for a moment it seemed as though it might defy every attempt to breach it. The helm tilted slightly as its sensors came to life, threads of crimson light tracing over the stone in silent calculation. Data streamed across his visor, measuring density, heat, and variance until the answer revealed itself. “Clear for a meter,” he said at last, his voice steady through the vocoder, “then it shifts into metal.” His gauntlet slipped free from the marble as he stepped back, boots finding purchase upon the damp earth. Aether’s head inclined ever so slightly, and without further command two of his warriors advanced.

The charge was set with precision. A block of compact thermite pressed flush against the wall, its edges sealed as though the stone itself was eager to embrace its coming destruction. The Mandalorians moved with silent efficiency, no wasted gestures nor unnecessary words, only the quiet discipline of soldiers who had long since been tempered by fire. As the final latch was armed the squad pulled back, their boots stirring ripples upon the surface of the lagoon as distance was made. A faint series of beeps began to echo, each one sharper than the last, before the device unleashed its fury. The blast was deafening. Marble cracked and split, the entire lagoon trembling as though struck by thunder itself. Birds burst from the treetops in a frenzied swarm, their cries scattered across the skies, while fragments of stone clattered into the shallow waters. When the haze settled a wound had been torn into the face of the pyramid, jagged yet wide enough to admit a path inward.

Holster unclipped, Aether drew his blaster with a quiet rasp of metal against leather. The pistol rested easily within his grasp, its barrel tracking toward the new breach as the Sole Ruler began his approach. Yet before he could move further, one of his warriors raised a clenched fist, visor tipped skyward. “Movement above.” the soldier reported, words tight and certain. Aether’s helm tilted, visor reflecting the fractured light of the broken marble as he followed the indication. The edges of his mouth quirked faintly behind the mask, unseen but not without a certain edge of humor. “Of course there is,” he murmured, the words carrying like gravel over stone. His gaze snapped back to the squad. “Keep eyes on them. Tombs always draw vultures, but if we are quick, they won't hinder us.”

With that the Mand’alor pressed forward, steps steady as he crossed the rubble and entered the breach. The air inside rushed to meet him, stale and heavy, as though it had not been stirred in centuries. Dust rose in faint plumes beneath his boots, carrying with it the scent of stone and age. The beam of his helm’s lamp cut through the gloom, revealing the downward curve of a staircase carved into the heart of the pyramid. Each step spiraled deeper, twisting into the unknown, its end swallowed by shadow. Aether regarded the descent with the same certainty that had carried him through countless trials, the muzzle of his pistol sweeping across the darkness as he began the march downward. How far the path would plunge, only the Collector’s vanity could say.​

Soliane Desari

 

[Soliane Desari]

INTO THE DEEP​

Location – Raxus Prime
Objectives – Find a way to open the Collector's vault
Tags – Aether Verd
Paraphernalia – Outfit


The pick struck over and over, each blow drawing forth more space in the ceiling. Then came the deafening blast and the temple itself seemed to shake in protest. Soliane barely had time to hold on before the crevice spread wide, the stone groaning as it gave way. The fall felt endless, but was broken by a momentary, yet harsh landing on wood, before that gave away as well. Afterwards she swiftly struck the stone below with a force that rattled her bones. Its pain blooming sharp and immediate across her thin frame. Moreover, a marble shard had pierced itself into her side, and when she tried to sit up, it answered harshly with an ache that blurred her vision. "Just my kriffing luck," she murmured lucidly.

Sol's breath was shallow amidst the presence of dust within the temple. Not to mention, the only light coming forth from faint rays of light out of the ceiling. The remainder of the cavernous chamber was consumed by eternal darkness, and its eerie silence shattered only by her own pants. She forced herself to concentrate, her hand crawling into the bag on her shoulder. One bacta patch left... With a grunt she tore the marble shard out, its warm crimson pouring over her fingertips as she pressed the patch against the open wound. It would not heal the fractures, nor soothe the bruises already darkening beneath her skin, but it would keep her alive. Long enough to find the artefacts and make it out of this labyrinth...

Once her breath had settled itself in a composed rhythm, the Chandrilan sought to rise to her feet. Agony shooting through her veins akin to an electricity conduit, her legs trembled, nigh on giving away. Without conscious control, she staggered until her acheing shoulder found the ample support of the nearest wall, marble unforgiving beneath her palm. "Kriff…" The curse slipped out breathlessly, echoing too loud in the silence. For a moment she sagged there, ribs aflame, the bacta patch damp and stinging against her side. But still she moved. One step after another, she pushed herself forward through the endless corridor, adrenaline the only thing to keep her going. Yet the more she moved, the more dust and blood smeared itself upon the walls.

In time, heavy footsteps louded from around the corner. Three? Four? The treasure hunter attempted to hold her breath, but ragged pants still slipped through her fingers as the bacta poured into the laceration. "Don't shoot, I'm just an explorer..." She blurted out without second thought and stepped out of the shadows, holding a single hand up to the bright lights coming from the figure's helmets. The other on the patched up wound on her side. "I take it that blast was yours?" Her lip quivered as Soliane spoke, yet she tried to smile, not present any hostility. "Impressive work... But the Collector's ghost won't be happy about people tearing apart his final work." The Chandrilan laughed weakly, before letting out a sharp groan at the stabbing pain.

​

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

RAXIS PRIME

The Mandalorians moved like water through the breach, their formation tight, precise, and deliberate. Every step was measured, every sweep of a barrel purposeful, as though the tomb were no different from an urban battlefield. Darkness pressed in from all sides, heavy and unbroken, but their helmet lamps carved it apart with stark beams of light. The silence of the pyramid yielded to the soft rhythm of their boots, the click of safeties, the low hum of scanners working at full capacity.

Then came the signal. A quiet confirmation passed through the squad’s comms: movement ahead. Weapons shifted instantly, their muzzles drawn together like iron to a magnet, all tracking the stagger of a lone figure. Dust and blood marked her frame, a grim picture illuminated by the glow of their lamps. Aether’s visor narrowed upon her, the faintest twitch of judgment flickering unseen across his features. She was wounded, far too badly to be any true danger, though desperation had a way of giving knives to the unarmed.

The Sole Ruler raised a clenched fist. Instantly, barrels dipped away from her chest, though one warrior kept his aim steady, the line of fire never faltering. Aether advanced, his lamp burning a bright, unforgiving path across the gloom until it landed squarely upon the woman’s battered form. “The blast was ours,” he said, his voice low but unyielding, the vocoder carrying each syllable like gravel on stone. “If a ghost takes offense, it is but repayment for the offense it once dealt Mandalore.”

He stepped closer, boots crunching on shards of marble, his pistol still resting steady at his side. “We are here for one thing only,” he continued, tone steady as iron. “Something of cultural importance to our people. Nothing more. Nothing less. Whatever else lies in this tomb means little to us.”

Aether’s helm tilted, light catching her eyes as he regarded her without softness. “Explorer,” he said, addressing her as though it were the only name she carried. “This tomb will not forgive arrogance. There are dangers here greater than the charge that tore its walls open, and walking it alone, while bleeding, is a fool’s errand.” His gauntleted hand motioned faintly, neither fully toward her nor away. “You have a choice. Come with us, and put the skills that led you here to use. Or we’ll see you out before you get yourself killed.”

He said nothing more. The squad held formation, tense but silent, while the Mand’alor stood in the circle of light and waited for her reply. Patience lingered upon him like a cloak, but only thinly. It would not hold long.​

Soliane Desari

 

[Soliane Desari]

INTO THE DEEP​

Location – Raxus Prime
Objectives– Find a way to open the Collector's vault
Tags – Aether Verd
Paraphernalia– N/A


The sting festered in her side, spreading like spilled ink, till nigh on every limb seemed to twitch in discomfort. The once joyous smile upon her lips vanishing into an uncomfortable attempt at poise--One which had its effects as most of the blasters were lowered, yet remained at the ready. Soliane attempted to stay upright as the tall, imposing figure neared her, evidently the leader from the way he carried himself. 'Twas akin to one of the many historic conquerors, or mayhaps it was only the grandeur of his armour deceiving her. From what little she could see while blinded by light, he was armoured in a manner she had not yet seen among the Jedi nor Sith. Were it not for the agony which tainted her, and the unfortunate disadvantage she maintained, the Chandrilan would have longed to reach out and study the very nooks and crannies of the armour for its relevance to their culture.

"Mandalore?" A title or name she had once or twice stumbled upon in her studies. Often tied to a specific individual, a legend, 'Tarre Vizsla', the forger of a weapon that caught her eye instantly. The Darksaber... Though most of its knowledge was disputable, none could trot past the uniqueness of its blade. Oh, how oft Sol had dreamt of inspecting that design. For no matter how oft her mentor and her had uncovered ancient lightsabers, none may yet compare to the prestige this one possessed. Though when her delirious mind processed the rest of his distorted sentence, it appeared as though these individuals too originated from the planet. And the Collector had evidently angered them through his (mis)deeds. Mayhaps the vault contained treasures belonging to their kind, or he had stolen from theirs... Yet the gravity shimmering through the vocoder spoke volumes about whether she should press for more.

Though their calling to this planet undeniably stirred curiosity within her quickening heart. It was, however, swiftly overshadowed by the mention that whatever else lingered in this place, was not theirs to collect. Unable to bring herself to a chuckle, the smirk on her lips appeared in its stead, utterly delighted by her chance to acquire more than just scrap. "Now you are speaking my language, Sir." She said with a wince as she felt her wound gradually start to mend itself--mayhaps in an hour or two, it would grow bearable again to laugh, or breathe. Soliane shifted a bit on her footing, moving back and forth to discover what may bring her the least ache. Yet with the barrel of one warrior still on her, she dared not make it last long. So when her title left the tall man's lips, she looked up again at his visor.

The ultimatum was an unpleasant surprise, though for them to call for her help was already better than expected. Part of her anticipated to be shot when she turned the corner, the other expected her to end up in chains and perceived as one of the Collector's footmen. "When you put it like that, Sir, I am better off as your ally. I mean... who would even wish to die on this backwater planet?" With the tilt of her head, the shimmer of mischief appeared on her tongue. After a second, she continued. "You need not call me 'explorer'. My name is Soliane Desari, or... if that name is too long for the circumstance, such as running-- or worse... Sol will do." Truth be told, with the various tales surrounding Raxus Prime, and specifically the Collector's Vault, who knew what dangers may follow them as they delved deeper into the tomb? Mayhaps she should have packed more gear, or at least, a breathing mask.

"While I came here for the ancient Sith artefacts, and that of Chandrilan origin. I cannot help but wonder, what treasure brings you and your people here?" Soliane did her best not to appear hostile, it was by far not her intention to steal whatever they were after. For only a fool would attempt to deceive heavily armed warriors.

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