No Ammo? No Problem

[Lord Gaius]

"No ammo?
No problem."​

LOCATION: Arriving at Pau City
OBJECTIVE: Locate his Mandalore
MUSIC: The Golden Age

Time and space bent as a dark wedge shot out from the blue tunnel of hyperspace. The stars that were smeared like a thousand white streaks returned to their state of normalcy, or at least for Gaius Vel they did. The dark wedge slashed across the void, the burning cyan discs that signified his sublight drives, roared, leaving a streak of blue ion in his wake.

The viewport grew dim. The Bes'uliik was chugging its way down through the atmospheric layer. The intense heat caused sputtering flames, and the nose of his dark cutting-edge starfighter grew a white hot. He jostled in his seat, alerts trying to signal for his attention. He bounced and bobbed in the cockpit, harness keeping him in place, but he couldn't throw off his fear of atmospheric entries. They just didn't sit right with his stomach, but soon the rattling of loose parts and the tremble of his fighter had vanished, and where the viewport had grown dim from the fires, it relaxed, clouds coming into view upon an elegant blue silken sky. He dove through the cloud cover, as soft as pillows, and found rain to begin spitting on the transparisteel until he emerged on the underside, a kilometre above the arid rocky plains where sinkholes dotted the landscape.

The dark wedge took a slow burn and began to descend into one of large craters. He pulled hard on the yoke, readjusting its angle while fingers working to set the landing gears down. He had spoken to Azrael briefly, they agreed to terms that the Mandalore himself would train the lowly beskarsmith in wrestling and grappling. It was the duty of all Mandalorians to teach their young how to fight, and teaching their fellow vod was no different. Gaius had just never expected to receive an affirmative. He settled his bes'uliik down in a hanger on the highest of levels before there was nothing but stone. The spaceport was not what one would call bustling, but there were a few other vessels signifying merchants and rough scavengers. Small Utai scampered to refuel his bes'uliik but Gaius waved them off, throwing up the hatch and clambering out until his boots reached solid ground. As solid as the ground got when you were standing inside a sinkhole.


{ [member="Azrael"] }

 

[Azrael]

Before Mand'alor, before the Sith Wars, before even stepping foot on Mand'yaim - Azrael had known nothing of combat save for one key principle; don't bring attention to yourself. He wasn't a fighter on Ord Mantell, he was a scrapper, a salvager of the dead. He had led a tough young life, and while he had been in many altercations, none of them had been met with anyone resembling an effort to dominate the competition. He'd been treated rather brutally throughout his formative years, but had never had the training or the drive to strike back when he had seen the odds were never in his favor. That all changed however in something of an overnight epiphany as he had woken up with his bionic arm attached and recalled the horrific events leading up to such a loss. Like a switch in his mind had been triggered, and gone was the form of a non-combative punching bag for the lot of the scrap yard lifers, replaced by a young man who would not relent, ever again.

Of the first introductions into the life of the Mando'ade (after surviving a bar fight), was a down and dirty instructional detailing some basic combat moves. At the time, HK-36, the notable droid from Omega Protectorate had found cause to be on Mandalore, and was one of Azrael's first defacto teachers in the way of self defense. The forefront of the litany of teachers Azrael had thus far in his Mandalorian career. Taking from everyone willing to offer help and advice to the boy until he had been able to craft a warrior from his own body. By now Azrael was proficient in several forms of combat, but he didn't specialize in a single one, he was far more a jack of all trades, master of none mentality. Though as the saying went, that was often better than a master of one. Risen through the ranks in no small part by his wealth of training and experience in such a short time, but also for his willingness to devote to the cause of the Mandalorian family. Now Azrael had taken the step from the student to the teacher in many courses and avenues. He trained initiates and rallied recruits into war. The Mandalorians now looked to him for leadership and guidance, and it was a daunting task, but not an unwelcome one.

Normally he'd let the Field Marshals tackle the idea of training new vod, but during the days when he was starting out, the reigning Mand'alor had taken him aside for private instruction when he didn't have to. Azrael wouldn't turn away that tradition when he saw an opening to teach a valuable skill. What Gaius probably did not expect was the method in which he had lined up to instruct in the given field. As the dark wedge shaped fighter split the clouds and tore through the atmosphere to enter into the sinkhole of which the natives on this planet built their cities, Azrael started towards the landing platform, his besk'ar boots clipping across the metallic surface as the ship came into decent and the exhaust ports opened up to release the hiss of transparent steam and air. Awaiting the departure of the Mandalorian, Azrael unclipped the buy'ce from his armor and slid it neatly to the rear of his beskar'gam to latch onto the hook made for storing the helmet.

"Oloram ner'vod. You made good time." The half-blood offered with a nod towards Gaius and gestured to follow him towards the edge of the platform while the droids went to work refueling and prepping his craft for when he'd depart later on. "Our destination is down near the foot hills just beyond that dam they built." His bionic arm rose and gestured with one metallic finger towards the thirteen story drop and the ridge where they'd find the entrance to a more indigenous and primal zone of the planet.

[member="Lord Gaius"]

 

[Lord Gaius]

Gaius Vel was a titan, that much could be said. He was of a solid build and stood at six foot three, while he was definitely tall, he was no giant among men. He was above average, and growing up it was suggested he play sports where his height would be advantageous. Though he was not as lanky as those type of sports players and went into beskarsmithing, where his 'smithing' hands went to good use. His beskar'gam was solid, with nexu fur coating his shoulders and neck and a terentatek hide as a gorget with its tusks serving as his horns. It was thick plating, but it too had multiple openings that could be capitalised upon by the enemy. Half his beskar'gam was coated in a sunrise orange with the other being a stark-white-turned-grey from the deserts of Aargonar. He did not possess the skill others had, he simply did what he could with his appearance. He made himself look bigger, harder to take down, it was all to do with psychological warfare. If you saw a massive brute charging you with a set of horns from a terentatek and using fur of a nexu for mere decoration, you second-guessed whether or not you should be fighting that man.

When Gaius saw the Mandalore approaching, he was half-way between bowing and half-way standing resolute. He wasn't sure how to act, but Azrael was a mighty sight to behold. His beskar'gam was fairly smooth, and he noticed the jutting bionic arm coming out of his left shoulder socket. Gaius spoke in turn, "Olarom." Short, he didn't know what else to say. Azrael motioned him to follow and Gaius fell in line, keeping up pace to stand beside him as they strode for the edge. He removed his own buy'ce and held it under his arm like a ball. "Non-traditional design. It's good quality," Gaius said, pointing towards the centre of Azrael's chest in indication of his beskar'gam. It was small talk, and not much else. Gaius' eyes followed the raised metallic finger, down towards the foothills he spoke of. "Ibac is a munit trattok'or, jate kebise I ganar sen'tra." Gaius reached down between his feet, taking up a pebble and tossed a pebble down the sinkhole. There was silence for several seconds until he heard the faint echo. He looked to Azrael, "How will we be getting down there?"


{ [member="Azrael"] }