Public P.I.X. | Ecosystems of the Future Scientific Exposition

[Kasmion Duum]

Kasmion gave Ijaat Mereel 's armor a once-over. "Oh, are you Mandalorian?" he said in a slow deadpan that lightened to a hint of a grin.

"Yes, I've heard a little about the tragedies on your world," he added soberly. "Kesh is in a similar condition. Ecological devastation, old bombardment scars, very few have returned. The atmosphere is still somewhat caustic and the ecosystem is, frankly, a total loss despite rewilding efforts. Perhaps there are opportunities for us to learn from each other's work, share certain resources. In terms of rewilding, we've had some fruitful engagements with Ithorian herd ships over the years — have you worked with the Ithorians?"

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

A rare and genuine smile split the crags of Ijaat's face and he found his stance relaxing a fraction. Something about the man told him that they had an understanding of sorts, without having spoken much at all. As he listened, he shook his head finally to the question.

"Ithorians? I've worked against them on a few jobs, and for on fewer. They don't seem to relish the ways of my people much. But I've nutured an admiration for their honesty and purity of purpose over the years. I would welcome any shared connections. And should you not mind a planet full of apex predators, hopefully soon I can welcome you to my clan-lands to show you how Mandalore was, and can be. I can certainly put you in touch with Danger Arceneau about extending the same help to your world as she has to mine..."

Reaching down he grabbed a flask again and took a sip, and after a considering glance offered it to Kasmion Duum without much ceremony. And that alone cemented the fact Ijaat quite like the way this man was.

 

[Kasmion Duum]

Kasmion took the flask, sniffed once, sipped, handed it back, accepting it for the token of a shared understanding that it clearly was. He'd heard that Mandalorians had their own traditional liquors and assumed this was the same. He wasn't much of a liquor man; his drink was boga noga, the obscenely strong Huttese ale. But you couldn't make any kind of life in the underworld if you turned your nose up at others' gestures and preferences.

"Thank you," he said. "Yes, I suppose the Ithorian way and the Mandalorian way have some fundamental differences of priority — but yes, purity of purpose is a good way to put it. They are reliable and competent, and I suspect we both know how rare that is. I'll certainly take you up on the invitation." A ghost of a smile. "I have no quarrel with apex predators."

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

"In the end, we just view the shared goal of life differently. Ithorians and Mandalorians both believe many of the same things. Just the how that is different. But, then again, that how is a mighty big river to ford for most."

Putting the flask back to his belt, he subconsciously went to check a weapon that was no longer there and caught himself, though the gesture could be picked up on easy enough. It wasn't as if he was disarmed really. Even without a blade, with the Force and his natural strength, he was still formidable. Regardless, he fell back into conversation after scanning the room briefly. This face was one he had worn before, and every chance existed someone from Deathwatch, a Sith loyalist, or even the Garons or Munin might recognize him and take issue with him living. It wasn't without reason to pay attention.

Reaching to where his cloak was, he clicked a lock on the clasp, a mythosaur bone and electrum carving of the symbol of Clan Mereel coming off. A cunning bit of tech, anyone inserting it into a NavComputer would get a simple set of coordinates, latitude and longitude and no more. Someone as cunning as the man before him obviously was would know where to fit the coordinates to planet wise.

"I do hope our paths cross again, Kasmion. If you ever need a favor, show that to any of my men. It, and they, will guide you to the Mereel lands."

Turning with a slight, and unintended, flair of his crimson cloak, he strode off into the crowd, somehow managing to vanish despite sticking out like a sore thumb.

Kasmion Duum