Wildcard Steel (Ijaat Akun)

[Kiyron]

Sullust. A fiery forge of planet known for toxic atmospheres and a molten surface, a tempest of geography and rock. Not unlike Kiyron's mood lately. He frowned as he stared out the biosphere of the Alliance base. Toxic clouds brewed overhead, rushing across the sky and hiding the sun. He turned back from the view, studying his new limbs. Not so basic as the ones he had originally, thanks to GADF medical droids, but still pretty standard. One mechanical arm, a mechanical hand, and who-knew-what mechanical parts within his abdomen. He hadn't asked and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

They still hummed though, and it grated at him, always having that sound like some maddening clock always ticking away in his mind. At least the ringing had finally gone away. Good to know the damage to his ears wouldn't be that permanent. This enforced recovery period exasperated him as well. The galaxy was in trouble. There were Sith dangers to put down, people to save, and targets to be eliminated. Yet here he was on Sullust until his body had fully recovered, which could take any amount of time. At least they let him walk about and train.

He'd started looking through what was available, studying the trooper armor. It was decent, as was the more sophisticated Vanguard armor. Neither quite suited him though, and as he assumed he'd be working with irregular and special forces, he thought he'd finally get some outside armor of his own. Nothing the Republic had, save the Havoc Squad armor, had been of particular help, especially the vaunted RSFU officer's armor and so he had contacted [member="Ijaat Akun"] about one of his armor creations and the man had requested an in-person meeting.

It was just about time for it now as well. Kiyron adjusted his jacket that hid most of the bandages and scar tissue before heading to the designated meeting. His footsteps were soft through the hallways, hardly echoing at all, which was he wanted. He hated being loud, especially now. He probably had the after-effects of a concussion as well. That would heal soon enough.

He entered the meeting place, looking for the man, the myth, and the legend himself. He came to a sharp stop and stood at attention, purely out of habit. It was weird making the transition. The Republic military was very formalized and rigid, and while this new Alliance military was coming together well, it hadn't cemented as much as what he was used to.

"Maj-" He stopped himself, "Kiyron, here to see you about some armor." His mouth still wanted to say those last few syllables. Major Kiyron, Rogue Regiment or Havoc Squad, reporting for duty. Things he had said countless times through the many years. Now that was all gone and he was starting over from scratch again.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Ijaat had been waiting for the lad to walk in, actually. In his life, 15 minutes was on time, on time was late, and late was unacceptable. So he had loaded up a battered leather satchel with an assortment of tools. A soft tape measure, a masonry line, a sheaf of flimsi-paper, clipboard, several old timey graphite scribers, his trusty square and angle, and a few other odds and ends. The lad needed armor, and had approached him in such a way Ijaat wondered if this whole beskarsmith business wasn't a little out of control in the galaxy at large. People seemed to think he could make damn near anything from nothing, and so far, he grudgingly admitted he had, really. Some of the armor he made was quite absurd, when you put it in perspective. Especially his own personal suits.

So as the young man entered the room Ijaat had commandeered, he smiled. He thought of it as commandeered because he had walked in, half grown beard looking like a grizzled war vet, cigarra puffing at his lip, and just pointed his thumb behind him and jerked his head back at the door. The various functionaries had vanished as if someone had eaten a bad egg and suddenly relieved the pressure, so to speak. One had even came in with a cup of stimcaff and left it hesitantly on the round tabled he sat at the far-end of now as his hands moved across a page of flimsi in the notebook, the other raising the steaming mug to his lips to sip at the heavenly liquid softly. Good, strong Concordian black roast. You could almost taste the char on the beans. Apparently he was making an impression.

Looking up finally, he put the scriber down, brushing graphite dust from his hands, and stood, gesturing to the seat in front of him where a carafe of stimcaff, a decanter of whiskey, various sugars and such waited. Noting the mans posture, he waved nonchalantly, and resumed his own seat as he spoke, dressed in his typical tusken-cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, showing scars and tattoos, one of them on the left arm being a particularly intricate Atrisian piece.

"Sit, please sit. We're not in a parade and I'm not your CO lad, so it's fine. Good to meet you.. I hear you needed some armor and wanted something from me, but I checked up on you... I think we can do better for a former Havoc commando. I knew Kaiden, ran a few ops with him in the day. Anything for his boys. What did you have in mind, eh?"

[member="Kiyron"]

 

[Kiyron]

This was an unexpected room, to be sure. More of an office than a forge. Kiyron had been expecting some room with lots of tools and a hearth to beat metal with. Not an office? One with chairs, desks, and drinks. Whiskey and caf even. He paused to listen as Ijaat addressed him. Take a seat? That was... an odd thing to consider. It was something he could do now. Not really any reason to stand around at attention or parade rest. He blinked several times trying to process that information again. None of it had sunk in yet. He eased himself down into a seat, arm clutching his side by the bandages, while his other hand paused momentarily above the arm-rest. It was such a strange hand, one that Kiyron still didn't always recognize as his own. It was alien. He shook his head to clear it away and the associated feel of exploding virborsword. That was one he'd never forget.

That tidbit about Kaiden was interesting, to say the least. He hadn't realized Kaiden had done ops with Mandalorians before, but he supposed it probably shouldn't have surprised him. The man knew people everywhere across the galaxy. Why wouldn't a Mandalorian be one of them? He reached over and poured himself a cup of stimcaf, pausing to consider adding the whiskey, hand hovering the decanter. No, not quite yet. It was still early. He gave a nod of his head in greeting.

" Good to meet you too." Kiyron spoke after a moment, cradling the cup in his hand, and frowning down at the distorted sensation. That was not what a cup of caf was supposed to feel like. He couldn't define it... but it was off. Computerized, perhaps, would be the proper word for it. "Always wondered where he picked those up." Another pause, this one more tense as he tried to put the phrasing together. "And... thank you for this. It is... quite generous. Even as one of Kaiden's boys, it is a lot to thank you for." He cleared his throat and took a long sip of the caf. Dark and strong. Perfect.

But for the question of the day. What was he looking for? That was easy enough. Kiyron took a deep breath and closed his eyes, assembling a list and replaying that final duel in vivid detail. He remembered everything perfectly.

"I can't stand around doing my own thing anymore while the Sith threaten the rest of civilization," He said after a moment, staring back down at the new limbs, "And my skills are combat. Nothing I've used before could stand up to a Sith. Let alone one using Vong tech and a lightsaber." Another pause for another drink, calculating tactical strategies to base the armor around. "I need something that can keep me alive with offensive capabilities to defeat Sith and Vong opponents." Eventually Darth Vornskr and Darth Pyrrhus. That part remained unsaid, however, the commando's reticence kicking back in with such a personal objective. "Force enhanced speed was a significant problem-" Another vivid memory, one of Darth Pyrrhus rushing him at far beyond human levels, lightsaber aiming to dissect him. "Light enough to have flight capabilities and not much hindrance towards movement. Anti-Sith and anti-Vong capabilities in carrying weaponry."

What did he have already? The sniper rifle for one, the Omega bolter (standard issue here, apparently), and the two sonic pistols. That was already some significant firepower, and alternative firepower at that. What a pity the disruptor had been lost in the factory. That would have been good to keep a hold of. Very useful to have in a lot of situations. Of course, it was a risk as well, but one worth using.

"That was the plans with the request for the beskar'ika chassis."

Sorry, forgot to tag you [member="Ijaat Akun"]