Just Sign This Please...

[Orn'om]

...That's what he was thinking as he walked through the doors of the Sundari palace, closely flanked by two Mandalorian guards. He wasn't as small as he normally was compared to them. For his trip to the palace he had donned his beskar'gam. It was starting to fit tighter and tighter, ease makes decay and all that. Zeke sighed and rapped his finger against the datapad he was holding in his right hand. Looking around he noticed a few doors with Mando'a script above them. He had been here only a short time ago seeking the Builder's Guild. Now here was here for the big cheese, or someone with his authority at least.

[member="Aryn Spar"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Zeke Farthen"]

Aryn had never really been much of a conversationalist, in fact it wouldn't be wrong to say that he tended to say less than mother others around him. It wasn't out of any sort of hatred or dislike of speaking in general, but most of the time he simply didn't have anything worthwhile to say.

It was a quality that many admired him for, though few openly approached him to say so.

The massive Togorian shifted slightly in his seat, a large wooden thing that had been carved specifically for him. The desk in front of him had been similarly created, mostly so that he could better do his job as Shukalar. In truth he still didn't feel as though he were actually qualified for the position, but it was not his place to question the Mand'alor or where he was placed. Shifting slightly he moved in the chair, finding a more comfortable spot to place himself in.

Slowly Aryn clicked his claw.

Where was his next meeting.

 

[Orn'om]

Zeke entered Aryn's office. Shukalar. That was his title now. He had been one of Death Watch's most accomplished warriors, unafraid and willing to die to see Monroe punished for her deeds.

Zeke by contrast had spent the civil war huddled, hiding away in one of the many bunkers of Mandalore waiting for the war to end. He was a coward in all but name. Despite this he was somehow in good graces with the old Death Watch. Enough to at least be able to keep his position in MandalMotors.

The cathar was huge, much larger than Zeke and also much more intimidating. He walked to the desk and placed the datapad and stack of flimsi files on his desk.

"Shukalar," he nodded to him, "These are the documents Dorn Skirata has asked you to sign. They will launch MandalMotors to new heights and provide new tools for the Mandalore's raids."
[member="Aryn Spar"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Zeke Farthen"]

"Ah." The response was a simple one, though from someone as big as the Togorian is sounded like a rumble of bees rather than a simple statement of fact.

For a moment the Shukular looked over the man in front of him. There were very few Mandalorians now, fewer than there had been in times past. The Civil War and everything else had been harsh on their people, and although their recovery had been slow he did wonder if such a thing would eventually curb their growth.

He supposed assisting companies that was run by Mandalorians could only be a good thing.

The giant cat grunted. "Very well."

Aryn could read well enough, and sign his name...or rather place his hand in some ink and then stamp the paper. It was a silly thing really, but often times they just didn't make pens big enough.