Private One Dragr, Two Dragr, Red Dragr, Blue Dragr

[Siv Dragr]

R E U N I O N
Nar Shaddaa
902 ABY
​

Tag: Sahan Dragr | Obran

The Kyr'yc Saca, the Last Shot, hummed smoothly as it dropped out of hyperspace into the orbit of Nar Shaddaa. Its reactor and components were running a lot more smoothly after Siv had taken some time after Rodia to tune the ship up, per Sahan's suggestion. The Saca was the third ship he'd owned, replacing his aged Outlander-class Starfighter. Its polished Mandalorian design reminded him of his first ship, the Blood Eclipse, which had been destroyed during the retaking of Mandalore. A lot of things seemed to be reminding him of his earlier life these days.

The criminal-infested moon of Nal Hutta loomed large in the viewport of the dropship. The first time he'd come to Nar Shaddaa had been in his teens, after the razing of Mandalore. Alone, clanless, with only a ship and his armor to his name, he'd come to hurt space to work and make a living the only way he knew how. That had been a different time, before the Enclave, when he'd lived by the credit and next bounty paycheck. Though he'd been here since it still brought back memories every time he made a visit to the moon. How things had changed since that first time he'd glimpsed Nar Shaddaa.

As he piloted the dropship into the atmosphere, he pinged Sahan on his comms. He'd been in some part of the ship doing who knows what during the hyperspace jump, affording Siv some much-needed alone time given what was up ahead for them. But now, it was time to bring his son back to the fore. "I don't know if we'll find your uncle on this moon," Siv said gruffly as he guided the Saca towards a grimy docking bay in the upper levels of the city. "But, an old contact of mind gave me a tip about some 'Mando bard' down in the undercity. If there's anyone that matches that description," he finished with what could almost be deciphered as a grim smile, "it would be Obran."

 

[Obran]

Sitting bar-adjacent, a grizzled and bearded Obran strummed absently at a stringed instrument that had seen better days. No requests were made, and the atmosphere of the club was such as one would expect for a den of mid-level thugs and enforcers. The presence of one in armor such as his, even as dinged and dingy as it was, was enough to keep the place mostly free of violence. Stopping, Obran tweaked a few knobs on the hallikset, strummed the seven strings experimentally, and launched into a tune.

A pile of empty tankards sat to his left on a stool, and next to them lay his helmet and spear, as he perched on top of the bench like table with his feet on the bench part of things, a low gravely voice growling out in a surprisingly sweet and melodious tune. Though he had been a while with not singing, the knack had come back quick enough, and a few even looked up from their drinks or meetings to shout things besides customary drunken heckling.

Siv Dragr | Sahan Dragr

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

SHIP:

• "Ure'adtr" Howler Basilisk War Droid​

ARMOR:

• Besk'gathr Mk II​

WEAPONS:

• M.I. Augmented Beskad​
• M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol​
• "O'dteyase" Modified Vora-Class Verpine Hand Cannon​
• M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle​

ITEMS:

• AXC (10)​
• Mirshir Ka'esr Binders​

AMMO:

• Gas Canisters (12)​
• Slugs (100) |​
• Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs (1 Mag)​
• RB-02 "Salt" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-04 "Droid's Bane" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-03 "Force Breaker" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• Tracyn'wuta Pyro Slugs (5 Mags)​
• Hurdisi Photonic Blackout Rounds (5 Mags)​

---

"Aye." Sahan put away the parts of a new type of smoke bomb he was working on. He went up front to where his father was. "Mando bard? Could've been a little more poetic about it. Alliterative Mando Musician or Beskar Bard, something." He looked out through the viewport at Nar Shaddaa. "Quite a crummy, little hellhole, isn't it? Why would Uncle Obran be here? There are much nicer places to play on Kestri."

---

TAGS: Siv Dragr Obran​

 

[Siv Dragr]

R E U N I O N
​

Tag: Sahan Dragr | Obran

"Quite a crummy, little hellhole, isn't it? Why would Uncle Obran be here? There are much nicer places to play on Kestri."

"Your uncle has spent the last thirty-odd years in an entirely different dimension," Siv replied to Sahan gruffly as they exited the ship, walking out of the docking bay into the dark of Nar Shaddaa's undercity. He found himself annoyed with the lack of empathy that his son was exhibiting. "We all had to grow up without Mandalore, without Kestri. Sometimes the underworld holds a comforting. . . familiarity." He wasn't describing it the best way, but it was something that was hard to describe. Despite virtually lacking any comforting or appealing features, something about walking in the bowels of Nar Shaddaa made Siv feel more at home.

Siv reminded himself that he'd lived through some of the most traumatic events in recent Mandalorian history, while the only tragedy in Sahan's life had been when he was too young to remember. His son was part of a generation of Mandalorians growing up with only tales of loss and eyes set firmly toward legends of glory. They were wholly different from the Siv's generation, partly for the better, partly for the worse.

They made their way through the streets largely in silence. Nar Shaddaa was a maze, and Siv was wandering more or less aimlessly. Passerbys gave the two Mandalorians suspicious looks -- though it had been a while since Karjr had held any sort of presence on the Hutt moon, Mandalorian bounty hunters were still respected and feared among the underworld -- but didn't bother them.

Suddenly, Siv picked up on a familiar tune drifting from one of the taverns. An old spacer's shanty, one that he'd heard many times on long hyperspace voyages. Though Siv wasn't much for music, he couldn't deny that the music had filled him with a sense of nostalgia and adventure, though he would be hard-pressed to admit it. He entered through the small doorframe, and sure enough, there was a familiar set of white beskar'gam with its wearer's back to him, strumming a hallikset. Obran.

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

ARMOR:

• Besk'gathr Mk II​

WEAPONS:

• M.I. Augmented Beskad​
• M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol​
• "O'dteyase" Modified Vora-Class Verpine Hand Cannon​
• M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle​

ITEMS:

• AXC (10)​
• Mirshir Ka'esr Binders​

AMMO:

• Gas Canisters (12)​
• Slugs (100) |​
• Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs (1 Mag)​
• RB-02 "Salt" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-04 "Droid's Bane" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-03 "Force Breaker" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• Tracyn'wuta Pyro Slugs (5 Mags)​
• Hurdisi Photonic Blackout Rounds (5 Mags)​

---

"I get that he's been out of touch. I'm sure it's quite weird coming back after all this time, especially if time flowed differently for him there. But I'd still think he would want to be around his people. I know I would. But, then again, I don't know his personality." Sahan shrugged. "I've never met him, considering he disappeared before I was born. That's one hell of a tune, though. That him?" A Mando'ad was playing and singing an old star shanty. The song was sad but beautiful. As he and his buir approached, Sahan began to sing along. There was a moment of silence after the song was finished. Sahan looked at Siv. "I think I understand a little better now...." He then gave the bard a salute, fist over his iron heart. "Su cuy'gar, Ba'vodu. I am Sahan."

---

TAGS: Siv Dragr Obran​

 

[Obran]

A harsh, discordant twang followed by a low Mando'a cursing string of words as said string snapped mid-playing. The instrument was set down, and the haggard eyes of the bard met the two who had come to seek him out. For them, it had been decades. For him, though he aged not a day in appearance, it had been centuries inside the Nether, constantly at war, seeing horrors beyond comprehension and atrocity beyond even his description. But he looked, if not haunted as any man his age might, mostly hale and well, except the dark circles around the eyes and a sense of fatigue bordering exhaustion in his body posture.

The younger of the two received a nod. Not a rude gesture, if you knew Obran. But something almost disinterested. At the moment, his gaze had fixed to Siv, and bore vague traces of guilt. There was no need for Siv to speak, or for Obran to ask questions as to his presence. The two knew each other well enough.

"Had to step out the 'verse a spell. Get my head on straight. Still trying to find my footing. But if you're here, time is up I suppose... Who's the pup?"

Siv Dragr | Sahan Dragr

 

[Siv Dragr]

R E U N I O N
​

Tag: Sahan Dragr | Obran

Standing here, seeing his brother again. . . it was like they were back in that Tor Valum tavern. Thirty years and Obran had hardly aged a day, a stark comparison to the grey that governed most of Siv's hair. Looking at him now was almost as if seeing a ghost. But it was the real living, breathing body of his long-lost adoptive brother.

"Had to step out the 'verse a spell. Get my head on straight. Still trying to find my footing. But if you're here, time is up I suppose... Who's the pup?"

Uncharacteristically, Siv broke out into a smile. Time was up indeed, for one of them at least. "This is Sahan," Siv said, echoing his son's own introduction. "He's my son, your nephew." He put a gauntleted arm on Sahan's shoulder. "Adoptive," he clarified. He couldn't let Obran get the notion that Siv had managed to settle down that much.

"If anything, the fact that you have your head at all after thirty years in the nether is impressive," he continued. "But I think you'll find a better audience for your sagas in White Scar, brother. And Volo needs someone to spend time with, or he might become the crazy one," he said with a rueful chuckle."But we miss you, brother." I miss you, he wanted to say. "You're a part of Clan Dragr, and well, with four of us, any missing piece leaves a gaping hole." His grip on Sahan's shoulder tightened a little more. "I need the extra help around the post. And Sahan needs someone to guide him should something happen to me," he finished with a somber undertone.

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

SHIP:

• "Ure'adtr" Howler Basilisk War Droid​

ARMOR:

• Besk'gathr Mk II w/ Icarus Jetpack Flight Attachment​

WEAPONS:

• Tusurki'aa Ta'hye Beskad​
• M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol​
• "O'dteyase" Modified Vora-Class Verpine Hand Cannon​
• M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle​

ITEMS:

• AXC (10)​
• Mirshir Ka'esr Binders​
• ND-013 "White Noise" Class LRWD Radio​

AMMO:

• Gas Canisters (12)​
• Slugs (100) |​
• Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs (1 Mag)​
• RB-02 "Salt" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-04 "Droid's Bane" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-03 "Force Breaker" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• Tracyn'wuta Pyro Slugs (5 Mags)​
• Hurdisi Photonic Blackout Rounds (5 Mags)​

Rebel Rouser​

---

Pup? Sahan thought to himself. Obran didn't seem, outwardly, to be all that much older than Sahan. Maybe by a decade or so. Except for the eye... The man's eyes said he had lived beyond the years he should be chronologically. What had happened in that strange realm they called the Netherworld? It definitely wasn't a place any living person should be. So Sahan kept his mouth shut. He had a feeling Obran might even see Siv as young now, despite him being older.

While Siv spoke to the bard, Sahan went over and checked out some kind of stringed instrument another musician had. The man was part of some kind of band that was setting up now that Obran had stopped playing. "She's a beaut, isn't she? Maybe not a top-o-tha-line model, but sturdy just the same. You play at all?"

Sahan just shook his head. "No, I've never touched an instrument. Not the musical kind, at least." He tossed the man a coin. "You mind if I borrow it?"

The man stared open-mouthed at the gold coin. "Yeah, be my guest."

Sahan took the instrument, gingerly sliding his hand down it, a flood of memories coming through. It had had a few owners and was well used but properly maintained. A particular song flashed into Sahan's memory, and he copied the movements as he saw them. He didn't quite have the technique, having never actually practiced before, but he knew where to place his fingers for the correct notes. As he played, the sound got slightly better. "Ya sure ya never played 'fore?" the man asked. He got his bandmates' attention and they hopped on their instruments and started playing along with a lively tune.

---

TAGS: Siv Dragr Obran​

 

[Obran]

Theme

Watching Sahan Dragr , Obran managed a genuine and warm smile, one that lit his eyes. His nephew had a gift, that was for certain.

"I felt it was best, when I returned, that I stay away. There are times when I am not myself, when the weight of that place settles hard on even my shoulders. But if you wish it, I will return home. The lad needs to learn his chords if he's ever to properly find a wife wife his music anyhow, and you couldn't pluck death from a funeral."

Still grinning, Obran pulled Siv Dragr to him in a suddenly fierce bear hug, stepping back with only the faintest touch of a haunting at the corner of his eyes.

"Thank you for coming for me brother, even if I didn't want you to...I have missed even your ugly mug..."

 

[Siv Dragr]

R E U N I O N
​

Tag: Sahan Dragr | Obran

Siv suppressed a small smile watching his son immediately take up with the band. He chuckled at Obran's small joke. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor in the netherworld. But suddenly he was pulled into a fierce hug, tightly grasped in the arms of his adopted brother. Startled, Siv didn't exactly know what to do at first. He wasn't exactly the best with signs of physical affection. Slowly, and awkwardly, he returned the hug.

But it felt good.

Obran stepped back, and Siv collected himself a bit internally. "I'm not gonna leave you in another stinkpit," he said, trying to keep the raspiness out of his voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

END​