Private Weary Bones, Unweary Steel

[Lander Stalwart]

Space, Aboard Grafted into Stone
Tags: Aether of the Iron Order

Lander's Blaster Pistol, Lander's Prosthetic Arm, Feeling Lucky, Refuge
​

After being escorted off of Ghorman by Aether following their brief encounter with Ronhar Tane of Mahporeem, Lander found himself sat in the hangar of the Grafted into Stone, where the corvette that had caused them all that trouble sat. Crown of Arrows is what the Outcasts had decided to call it, a very Corellian naming convention. Jasper wore his inspirations on his... arms. He didn't seem to own any clothes with sleeves. Given how poorly the entire affair could have gone, Lander was just happy to have the civilians somewhere far more secure. Already he was thinking about ways to outfit the Crown to ensure that it had the security capabilities required to conduct another civilian rescue operation.

In the meantime, Lander approached the recently landed vessel of the Shard Jedi and offered a cordial dip of his head.

"Thank you for arriving so hastily," the former Senator thanked. "We were fortunate to not come to blows, but I appreciate it nonetheless."

A soft exhale followed, and the veteran reached up to rub at his temple with his organic hand. His eye bags were quite pronounced. The entire operation had all but ensured he slept very little.

"Apologies," he murmered. "I'm usually more presentable..." Lander paused for a moment, taking in the Shard's constructed mechanical shell. "Do shards require sleep? Sorry if that's... intrusive. I suppose I've just never thought much on the matter until this moment."

That sounded nice, not needing sleep at all. It would make his life a whole lot easier.

 

[Aether of the Iron Order]

AX-01 Vanguard Mark I | [Aether's Build]
Weapons : Training lightsaber x 6 | Hot 'n' Heavy Compensator War Maul

Tags: Lander Stalwart​

The towering droid form stepped off the dock with a deep, resounding thrum beneath each footfall; every step seemed to press its claim into the structure beneath him, heavy enough to make the space feel smaller for his presence alone. Intimidating in the sheer presence of a body built to endure and advance. Yet it stood in striking contrast to the white and gold of his frame, and to the soft intricacies of the cloak draped about him, lending him a regal sort of regalia… the machine of war looked august, deliberate, and severe.


Azure glowing photo-receptors turns down on to the small man that greeted him.

"No apology is required; There is nothing for you to apologize for. Weariness is no failing; it is often the price paid by those who continue to serve when others no longer can. As for your question… no, not in the manner organics do. I do not sleep. I may enter periods of stillness, of reduced activity, but true sleep is beyond me. There are moments when I think that a mercy… and others when I am less certain."

He turned his attention to the surrounding area, taking everything in as his gaze swept across the dock and beyond.

"Rest at ease… if anything here seeks to threaten you or your people, it will find me in its path."