Kara sat down heavily in the shade of the Goldmine. The salvaged Z-95 Headhunter was her pride and joy, and it was finally finished. But she wasn't thinking about that right now. Right now she was thinking about Vokko and everything that had just happened.
The young woman reached for her braided-rope belt. From it hung a knife and two blaster pistols. One of the blaster pistols was dull and outdated, but the other was shiny, compact, and efficient. Like the knife. The knife that Kila had given her. And Kara had to admit it was a very good knife - vastly superior to the unbalanced spike of sharpened durasteel that she used to use, until she lost it in the caves Vokko made his home in. Where Kila's body happened to be at the moment.
Kila. Kara hadn't known the Mandalorian woman for more than a few days, but she'd immediately taken a liking to her. And it didn't seem quite right to just leave her body lying there, but a fully-armored Mandalorian was too heavy for Kara to carry. So she'd used one of her medpacks to clean up the blaster wounds. The shoulder one was first - just below the end of the collar bone. Vokko's henchalien had been using actual lead rounds, so there was a lot of blood. Kara'd cleaned that up too.
Then the stomach wound. That had been a little easier, because Vokko himself had shot Kila there, with a laser bolt. So all she had to do was disinfect, apply bacta, and bandage. Simple.
But it wasn't just the fact that she'd watched a woman shot and killed. It wasn't the first time - it used to happen all the time. It was what Kila had told her as she died. That there was - could be - a place among the Mandalorians for her, if she wanted it. And Kara wanted it. Her ship was ready. But she didn't know if she was. She wasn't the best shot in the galaxy, but she was decent, and she knew how to use a knife. The problem remained though, that all the weapon skills in the universe wouldn't help her if she got shot. So she needed some armor. But how to get some?
There was Kila's, of course. But Kara already had the helmet - it was sitting right next to her - and she didn't want to take the rest of it. It would seem wrong, for some reason - and besides that, a full suit of beskar would be too heavy for her. That left durasteel as the other available option.
She had the tools and the material, that was true. But she didn't know how to wear it, and that was a problem. A full suit of durasteel, while not as heavy as beskar, would still be very heavy. But her vital organs needed to be protected. So, she'd make a chestplate and a backplate. It would leave her sides vulnerable, but she'd worry about that later. For now, she needed to figure out how to make a chestplate and a backplate.
Using her finger, she drew a rough design in the sand underneath the Goldmine. The design consisted of a few things. First, durasteel armor plates - six for the chestplate and two pieces for the backplate. The armor plates would be attached to a vest-like overshirt of some kind, by means of clasps or rivets. Underneath that would be a lightly padded undershirt. The armored vest would go on over the head, and be secured at the sides by means of cord - wire-rope, if she could make it work, regular rope if she couldn't. She made another decision also. Three sheaths - two for her blaster pistols, and one for the knife. One blaster on each thigh, and a knife on her arm.
Letting out a breath, Kara stood up and opened the cargo area of her ship. She was going to need a lot of metal. And a blowtorch.
The young woman reached for her braided-rope belt. From it hung a knife and two blaster pistols. One of the blaster pistols was dull and outdated, but the other was shiny, compact, and efficient. Like the knife. The knife that Kila had given her. And Kara had to admit it was a very good knife - vastly superior to the unbalanced spike of sharpened durasteel that she used to use, until she lost it in the caves Vokko made his home in. Where Kila's body happened to be at the moment.
Kila. Kara hadn't known the Mandalorian woman for more than a few days, but she'd immediately taken a liking to her. And it didn't seem quite right to just leave her body lying there, but a fully-armored Mandalorian was too heavy for Kara to carry. So she'd used one of her medpacks to clean up the blaster wounds. The shoulder one was first - just below the end of the collar bone. Vokko's henchalien had been using actual lead rounds, so there was a lot of blood. Kara'd cleaned that up too.
Then the stomach wound. That had been a little easier, because Vokko himself had shot Kila there, with a laser bolt. So all she had to do was disinfect, apply bacta, and bandage. Simple.
But it wasn't just the fact that she'd watched a woman shot and killed. It wasn't the first time - it used to happen all the time. It was what Kila had told her as she died. That there was - could be - a place among the Mandalorians for her, if she wanted it. And Kara wanted it. Her ship was ready. But she didn't know if she was. She wasn't the best shot in the galaxy, but she was decent, and she knew how to use a knife. The problem remained though, that all the weapon skills in the universe wouldn't help her if she got shot. So she needed some armor. But how to get some?
There was Kila's, of course. But Kara already had the helmet - it was sitting right next to her - and she didn't want to take the rest of it. It would seem wrong, for some reason - and besides that, a full suit of beskar would be too heavy for her. That left durasteel as the other available option.
She had the tools and the material, that was true. But she didn't know how to wear it, and that was a problem. A full suit of durasteel, while not as heavy as beskar, would still be very heavy. But her vital organs needed to be protected. So, she'd make a chestplate and a backplate. It would leave her sides vulnerable, but she'd worry about that later. For now, she needed to figure out how to make a chestplate and a backplate.
Using her finger, she drew a rough design in the sand underneath the Goldmine. The design consisted of a few things. First, durasteel armor plates - six for the chestplate and two pieces for the backplate. The armor plates would be attached to a vest-like overshirt of some kind, by means of clasps or rivets. Underneath that would be a lightly padded undershirt. The armored vest would go on over the head, and be secured at the sides by means of cord - wire-rope, if she could make it work, regular rope if she couldn't. She made another decision also. Three sheaths - two for her blaster pistols, and one for the knife. One blaster on each thigh, and a knife on her arm.
Letting out a breath, Kara stood up and opened the cargo area of her ship. She was going to need a lot of metal. And a blowtorch.