Corey's OOC
And where were the spiders
So, renting was always an option. Not one he really wanted to consider, but the concept was there. He wanted a ship of his own, and the Corellian models, while always his favorite, weren’t what he was looking for. Something with a little flash. And something his cousin didn’t own. Just to be different, and obnoxious. But there were some vessels that just had to be used, they could be submerged. That was what separated Mon Cal Shipyards from the CEC.
Still, none of this really mattered, but Marek was spending a lot of time with this rented shuttle. And he needed to pick something. Bumming rides wasn’t always the best. Still, he approached Master @[member="Ket Van Derveld"] about going to Tatooine. There was a dig gone wrong, and really, he could use someone who was a bit sneakier than he was. Besides, Marek could probably use the training with a lightsaber.
And by probably, he meant definitely.
Hopefully he’d be able to learn something. Until then, it was his new slughtrower and rifle that would keep him moving. ON the hip opposite of his slughtrower, he carried his kukri. Ready for just about anything now. He hoped. Looking at Master Van Derveld’s flat black blastboat, he was starting to realize he was belonging somewhere.
“So, you don’t really mind coming to this desert?” Marek had been here a few times before, it the landscape remained the same. Dry, and sandy.
Still, none of this really mattered, but Marek was spending a lot of time with this rented shuttle. And he needed to pick something. Bumming rides wasn’t always the best. Still, he approached Master @[member="Ket Van Derveld"] about going to Tatooine. There was a dig gone wrong, and really, he could use someone who was a bit sneakier than he was. Besides, Marek could probably use the training with a lightsaber.
And by probably, he meant definitely.
Hopefully he’d be able to learn something. Until then, it was his new slughtrower and rifle that would keep him moving. ON the hip opposite of his slughtrower, he carried his kukri. Ready for just about anything now. He hoped. Looking at Master Van Derveld’s flat black blastboat, he was starting to realize he was belonging somewhere.
“So, you don’t really mind coming to this desert?” Marek had been here a few times before, it the landscape remained the same. Dry, and sandy.