Funky Fresh Forest Friends

[T.J]

"GRRRAAAWR!!"

The primal roar echoed through the the endless forests of Endor's moon, bouncing from tree to tree for miles in every direction as it sent birds from their perches and smaller creatures skittering to their hiding places. It was accompanied by the sounds and vibrations of gnashing teeth and splintering wood, the ground shook and the trees danced to the thumping beat of battle that only the struggles of an alpha predator in single combat could make. To a trained ear it would be obvious who the culprit was, one of the largest terrestrial predators the forest moon of Endor had to offer. A Boar-wolf. Standing at over three meters tall at the shoulder and extremely aggressive, they were one of the fiercest beasts the moon had birthed in its evolutionary cycle, truly an apex predatory creature in every sense of the word. If not for it's opposition it would easily be one of the more dangerous thing the moon had to offer.

Unfortunately for the Boar-wolf, even it was woefully outclassed by the being that had chosen to engage it in combat. At the other end of the engagement stood Delmon Skyblade. Alor of clan Ordo. Veteran of the Battle of Coruscant, two Mandalorian civil wars, and countless other battles. Survivor of the Battle of Dxun, killer of the fearsome Zakkegg and every other manner of beast the Demon moon had spawned, and the killer of Sith and Jedi alike. He hadn't gained his rank and title by sitting idly by. It was safe to say the beast didn't stand a ghost of a chance. Already bleeding from several deep wounds along its neck and shoulders, panting heavily as its sanguine tinged saliva dripped from its gaping maw and mixed with the dead leaves and muck of the forest floor, the Boar-wolf was on the ropes. Making another desperate attack, it pounced off of one of the many massive trees surrounding the two combatants towards the lone Mandalorian warrior. His own armor was scarred and beaten from the creatures blows, covered in a mixture of blood and dirt that seemed to increase in density after each successful strike.

Ducking low and bringing his beskar saber up and at a sharp angle, Delmon struck hard and fast. Burying the blade deep into the abdomen of the massive beast as it passed over him, the weapon wrenched from his hands as it did so. Drawing its twin, he turned to face the beast as it crashed into the forest floor with a earth shaking thud. He had bested the apex predator, its life force seeping into the soft earth as he approached. Ripping his blade from his flesh he let out a contented sigh as he began cutting apart the cooling corpse, intent on retrieving the creatures massive pelt and other various pieces.

In truth he hadn't been sent out into the sea of green to find and kill a Boar-wolf. Rather he was on the look out for any wayward Jedi that might still be wandering out in the wilderness. The upper echelons of the Rebellion wanted any loose ends tied tight, they had newly founded bases that needed to be secure. Errant force users muddled the equation, he had been sent to rectify the problem. Originally he had visited the forest moon to train the Rebellion soldiers how to effectively fight force users, but his experience in hunting and tracking had changed that duty into something different. As such he was sent into the endless forest for an indeterminate amount of time to hunt for forcers that might not even exist in the first place.

Such seclusion had given the Mandalorian a chance not normally afforded to him. Delmon had heard that a particular woman had recently joined the ranks of the growing Rebellion, one who he had past ties with he simply couldn't ignore. Vica Veszk, the woman who had delivered the message that had been the salvation for his people. Simply meeting her had the potential to raise unwanted attention, something the newly appointed Commander didn't want. His mission gave him the perfect alibi, plus being in the middle of nowhere made for an excellent place to have a meeting without any unwanted intrusions. The coordinates had been given, all he needed to do was wait. The Boar-wolf was a happy accident, a gift from the green to pass the time.

​

@Bee

 

[Vica Veszk]

Being late, even fashionably so, was a personal failure. More than that, it just bothered her. Her time as a bounty hunter had come with plenty of hard-learned lessons, and chief among them was the simple fact that punctuality mattered. Hunters who dragged their feet went hungry. Vica didn't like going hungry, and so she always made an effort to show up to her appointments on time, even as her life descended into chaos. Having a set schedule wasn't exactly easy when one made their living as a double agent, but following her defection from the Empire, she at least had a lot more time on her hands to work with; even if her life was still as complicated and fraught with danger as ever.

With their meeting place determined through a third party, Vica had made every effort to get to Delmon at their agreed upon time - but it seemed as though the green had other plans. Getting lost in the woods was almost laughably embarrassing considering her status, but the forest moon wasn't a place she was familiar with and, given her somewhat stubborn nature, falling back on the navigational capabilities of her datapad felt like admitting defeat. Wandering in frustrated silence, lightsabers bouncing against her hips as she crawled over downed logs and tiptoed past the dens of various native fauna, the newly-minted Rebel eventually gave in to common sense and retrieved the datapad from her backpack. Perhaps more seasoned explorers were content to wander without supplies, but Vica wasn't really an avid fan of nature. She liked ships and air conditioning and peace and quiet - not unpredictable weather, tall trees, and the ever-present feeling that something, somewhere, was watching her.

Then again, maybe she really was paranoid.

Twenty minutes had elapsed by the time she met the Commander at their prearranged destination, a somewhat weary look on her face as the man came into view. Truth be told, she didn't remember much about Delmon's appearance. They had spoken once, via holo, and that was it. Still, an ally was an ally. And unlike the treacherous Hutt she had attempted to make peace with, she was almost certain that Delmon didn't have much to gain by betraying her. Mandalorians, from her limited dealings with them, at least had some sense of honor. Which was more than she could say for the Hutts, Nor'baal especially. No, if Delmon was going to try and kill her, he'd probably do it himself.

That he'd acquired a massive pelt - and the corpse of a boar-wolf - in the time it took her to reach him was something of a surprise. Though she'd heard the sounds of a struggle, it simply sounded like creatures being creatures. That Skyblade had apparently killed the thing himself was impressive, and she laughed as she moved closer to his position. "Sorry for the wait." Tucking the datapad under her arm, she gestured to the fallen creature's remains. "Looks like you're keeping busy."

 

[T.J]

As the predetermined meeting time came and went, Delmon continued his work on the massive carcass completely oblivious to it's passing. The beast's corpse was large and the meat would begin to spoil if he did not clean and process it quickly, a job better suited for two. Never the less he completed his work with a calmed leisure unseen in the Mandalorian for some time, the rigors of the galaxy had weighed heavily on Delmon since his ancestral home was taken from him. He hadn't been afforded the time to just simply... be. Getting away from it all by returning to his roots in Dxun's harsh jungles was a luxury he could no longer afford, especially considering they no longer existed outside the realm of memory. Delmon had always been a firm believer in enjoying the little things in life, his unexpected hunt brought a measure of peace to the Mandalorian.

Stretching the massive hide between the branches of a nearby tree and the beasts own bones which he had dug into the ground like bleach white poles, the pelt made shade structure of sorts as it began to dry in the sun. This is where he sat, legs crossed and helmet beside him as he sifted through various fangs and claws from the Boar-wolf. Some would make fine blades that would fetch a tidy sum, while others were more suited for jewelry and other useless items. He heard Vica's approach even before she came into the clearing, she had done little to mask her presence to him. Not in the force naturally, Delmon was not force sensitive after all. In truth he had no need for such a crutch, he could read the environment like a book. Nature could tell a person a lot, cues from the native flora and fauna around him, even the wind held information. As she had approached the mood in the forest changed, birds stopped chirping, rodents and small insects cleared the area, on the wind wafted the faint smell of perfume.

Calmly setting the teeth and nails of the beast aside in their respective piles, Delmon stood and brushed some of the dirt and dried blood from his armor. " You know what they say, A wandering mind is Arasuum's plaything. " He doubted she would get the reference, Mandalorian's hadn't worshiped Arasuum and Kad Ha'rangir for quite some time. The only reason he knew of them himself was due in part to his clan's extended seclusion from the galaxy at large, and as such they had clung to some of the more archaic practices of the Mandalorian people. Leaving his helmet behind Delmon stepped out from underneath the pelt. Meeting face to face was a huge sign of trust on Delmon's part, he rarely took it off when not around other Mandalorians. The only other being who had been given the same honor was none other than Darth Vereor himself during the last Summit meeting before the Mandalorian genocide.

" I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to meet you all the way out here rather than in a bar on some backwater planet... And no, it wasn't to get you alone all to myself. " A small bit of humor to try and lighten the mood never hurt, though Delmon had always terrible at it. " A simple thank you. Along with a couple questions I hope you might answer. You might not know it but you saved my people with your message, the death tole would have been staggeringly higher had you not delivered it. " Placing a hand across his chest in a much more gentle version of the typical Mandalorian greeting, Delmon bowed his head slightly as he continued. " I am in your debt, one that I do not know if I can repay. "

 

[Vica Veszk]

Not knowing what to expect, the dead creature's appearance was doubly surprising. Vica wasn't squeamish, but the thing was big and it only cemented what she already knew: that the outside, the 'green', the uncivilized parts of the galaxy were dangerous, and that she didn't like being out in the open. Her primary habitat was air conditioned; while she had taken plenty of jobs that necessitated some level of outdoorsmanship, it'd be a warm day on Hoth before she ever willingly spent more than a few hours out in the open, enduring the natural order of whatever planet she was stuck on at the time. Raising an eyebrow at the mention of a name she wasn't quite familiar with - Vica wasn't exactly on the up and up with most of Mandalorian culture in general, much less whatever obscure religion they used to follow - she managed a small, somewhat awkward laugh.

"I'll take your word for it." It was about as genuine a reaction as she'd given anyone in weeks. Normally quite guarded, she just didn't have the energy to put up the same affable facade that made interacting with so many of her fellow Rebels easier. Sure, I was a Sith, but now I'm on your side - look how agreeable I am! It was an exhausting game, but a necessary evil. No one seemed keen to trust her save for Mjolla, but even their leader's word wasn't good enough to erase suspicions and absolve her of the group's collective doubts. Then again, it wasn't as though she'd presented an especially trustworthy figure to start with, given her past. They'd get over it in time, but Vica wasn't sure she had the patience to wait that long.

Unaware of the significance of their relatively unguarded meeting, Vica none the less met the man's gaze, her lopsided smile growing wider at his attempted humor. "I'm rarely alone these days, anyway." While she wasn't aware of her handler's presence on Endor, it wouldn't surprise her if Saul came wandering out into the woods to find her. He was quiet and effective and ever-present, and luckily for her, his company wasn't entirely miserable for all the time they spent together. At the mention of his thanks, Vica let out a slow sigh from her nose, lips pressed tightly together. Her posture seemed to relax, shoulders slumping downward as if in disappointment, the memories of their first meeting suddenly quite clear in her mind. More than that, she remembered the aftermath. Then again, Dxun hadn't been her home - it wasn't as though her uneasiness could compare to his suffering. She was cold-hearted, but not completely daft.

Taking a moment, she simply shook her head. "There's no debt, Delmon." Indeed, it felt strange to even consider that he might owe her something. She had been a Sith - she was responsible for the losses his Clan suffered, in her own way. Normally a fairly well-spoken woman, Vica found herself struggling for words. The man lost his people - his family - because of the Empire, and he was thanking her, of all people? It just felt.. wrong. After a moment of silence, she turned away and regarded the boar-wolf - what was left of it, anyway - moving to crouch down beside the thing with a curious look on her face. She had a good idea what he was looking for, but it never hurt to ask. "So, what is it that you need?"

 

[T.J]

A look of confusion flashed briefly across Delmon's face as his gaze came up from his short bow. No debt? The thought seemed foreign to him. He had spent some time in the aftermath of the genocide and Jon Viggo's disappearance looking for Vica, combing the holonet and what little contacts he had at his disposal. Originally the search had been in the effort to thank her, but to gain information about the aforementioned traitor so that Delmon could in turn extract information from the man about his affiliations and misdeeds. Naturally he had come up empty, not hearing anything about the woman's whereabouts until she suddenly appeared within the Rebellion. To find that she was among the ranks of the Sith all along answered his questions as to why he could not find her perfectly. Naturally, there was some animosity, but the woman who had helped to save his people was still there, regardless of the path she chose afterward.

Suddenly realizing he had been awkwardly silent for longer than he would have liked, he brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat before speaking. " Very well. But now this... Should you find yourself in need, whether it be in battle or simply a place to retreat to. Aliit Ordo will answer your call. " Pacing over to the Boar-wolf, he stood beside her as she examined his kill. Arms behind his back his posture remained for the most part rigid, the action drilled into him by a lifetime of military doctrine. His gaze bore into the carcass, staring off into oblivion as he spoke. " Jon Viggo... Or whatever he calls himself these days, the man's seemingly fallen off the edge of the galaxy. You must have known him personally in some capacity, he would not have trusted such an important message to just anyone. " Tilting his head so that he could meet her eyes, his gaze remained constant and his jaw tight. " How did he know? How could he have known when no one else did? He knew of the attack before it had even begun... " Breaking his gaze he turned to the carcass, pulling a knife from his belt before cutting another hunk of meat from the bone before placing it in a pile of similarly cutlets of flesh. The questions he first proposed were more rhetorical in nature, the events that had unfolded had told him all he needed about Jon's true allegiance. " I had heard rumors, from a time before I lead Aliit Ordo. That he and Apollo were Sith puppets, their strings pulled to lead the Mandalorian people to ruin. I disregarded such rumors, believed them to be fallacies drummed up by opposing clans during the second civil war to weaken our resolve. Those doubts became a reality that day, when Dxun burned I knew in my heart that the rumors had been true all along... "

Letting a short laugh slip past his lips he cut another hunk of flesh before continuing. " A destroyer and a savior... Like the gods of old. Ironic really. " Wiping his knife clean up his upper arm just below his shoulder plate, he sheathed the weapon before turning to face her once again. " I want to know everything Vica. Who he is, who he worked for, who lead the attack on my home, and where I can find the monster so I can bury my knife in his gut. "

 

[Vica Veszk]

Truth was, Vica didn't deserve his kindness. She didn't deserve his so-called debt, or gratitude, or any of the words that might come close to expressing any measure of recognition. Being a spy was harder than the holo-movies made it appear: one had to realize that their work would always be thankless, and almost always exist in a grey area that was neither good nor bad, or at the very least, always screwing someone over. And for all her self-confidence, there was a large part of her psyche that simply didn't believe she was worthy of the praise. What could a victim owe a killer? It just didn't feel right.

Unperturbed by the silence, she lifted her head and offered a nod of acknowledgment, forcing down that small voice in the back of her mind that wanted to ask just how many of Clan Ordo actually survived the attack. There was no way to phrase it without being rude - without implying his offer was kind of meaningless if they had all been wiped out - and so she simply bit her tongue, eyes moving to the man as he stood at attention. Wandering around doing her best impression of someone with a stick up her ass had gotten old; it was nice to be able to relax, no longer stuck in form-fitting uniforms or under strict orders to uphold decorum at all times. It was the mention of Jon Viggo that caused her chest to tighten, anxiety welling up in the pit of her stomach, and though her first instinct was to disguise her discomfort, it felt disingenuous. Crouched down beside the animal, she offered Delmon a look that was equal parts dread and hesitation, as if she knew exactly what he wanted to know, but didn't want to tell it to him.

Because, quite frankly, she didn't. Vica was no fool: there was no other reason he would ask to meet with her if not to learn more about the attack on his Clan, and given how close she and Jon - well, Royston - had been, it was difficult to dig up those memories and remain impartial toward their story. Perhaps, had she been a better Sith, she could've claimed that Darth Tarak had made her life worth living. But she never quite bought in enough to believe he was doing her any favors, and following his disappearance it was hard to be anything but bitter toward the man who had so thoroughly changed her life. His references to gods sailed over her head - she wasn't especially well-versed in Mandalorian culture, nor did she have any real interest in it, but she smiled just the same, unable to completely hide the somewhat pained look from her expression.

"I suspected as much." It would be the second time she sold out her former mentor. But it wasn't as though he cared enough to stick around - why should she care about keeping his secrets any longer? Rising to her full height, she eventually found a seat on a fallen log a few meters from the felled boar-wolf. It was old and partially rotted, but it was dry and off the ground, so it would have to do. Sighing, the blonde shook her head. "The truth is that I don't know where he is." Choosing her words carefully, she crossed her legs and bounced her knee some, heart racing as she recalled the image of Roy to the forefront of her mind. "I'm not protecting him. I simply .. don't .. know." And that was precisely the problem.

"The man you know as Jon Viggo," raising a hand to push it through her hair, the woman shook her head. It was all so messed up - but he had a right to know. "Was .. Is a Sith Lord by the name of Darth Tarak. Away from your people, he went by the name Royston Spektor. We were close, but even I'm not convinced that was ever his real name." The story about his upbringing in Coruscant had seemed plausible at the time. But now? It was hard not to question everything. "He was my boss. He was the one who sent me to find you." Delmon knew that, of course. Something about their meeting - about the words invert reaper protocol - were burned into her mind, unable to be forgotten. "And.. He was the one who told the the Empire about Dxun. The order came from the Empress herself, but Spektor refused. He passed on the duty to Darth Somnus, who had no problems obeying the Empress' command."

Pausing to take a breath, she continued on. "To the best of my knowledge, Jon Viggo was planted in Clan Ordo to serve as an informant to the Imperium. There's some intelligence that suggests he played a part in the death of.. I believe the title is Mandalore." It was impossible to know the culture and political minutia of every race in the galaxy. But still, Vica felt a twinge of disappointment in herself for not remembering the finer points of what he wanted to know. "And yes, Apollo was a member of the Ubiqtorate. He was a spy as well."

 

[T.J]

Delmon listened intently as Vica told him what she knew, his face growing increasingly somber as she validated his worst fears. What a part of him had known all along, Jon and Apollo had indeed been Sith agents, traitors to their own people. The lowest of the low in his eyes, the thought of betraying the ones he knew as kin seemed infinitely beyond him. His jaw tightened at the mention of Mandalore and the secrets that surrounded his death. Vencu had been a friend to Delmon, his death hitting him much like it would if it had been a member of his own family. To hear that a man he had once trusted enough to divulge the location of his clan's secret home was at least partially responsible for his demise made it sting all the more. He couldn't help but blame himself for what happened to his people. Perhaps if he had been more cautious, more stringent and less trusting his jungle moon might still exist. Corden's death might have been averted. The demise that had been the catalyst to the Mando'ades downfall could have been stopped before it had even begun. Without Mandalore's binding will the second civil war erupted with little delay, devastating the already weakened Mandalorian military complex and destroying what resources they had managed to retain after the core blitz and subsequent siege of Kuat. Leaving the Mandalorian people weaker than they had ever been, they were easy targets for the Sith genocide that swiftly followed.

" Royston Spektor... " His gaze fell to the ground, transfixed in a state of partial shock. " Then my suspicions ring true it seems. My father always used to tell me to listen to my gut instinct, perhaps if I had listened to him my home would still hang in the Onderonian sky and we would not be having this conversation... " He was sure she had no interest in the life lessons his father had taught him, but he simply could not shake the weight of guilt that hung over him. Delmon had been the one to vouch for Jon when others wanted nothing to do with him, in his eyes the blame rested squarely on his own shoulders. Doing his best to shake such thoughts, he moved onto the other information Vica had given him, lifting his head to look at Vica once more. A fire burned in his eyes, replacing the shock with a white hot anger. " Does this Darth... Somnus? Still live? I gave him a promise as he glassed my home world that I would return the favor ten fold. If you have any information on his whereabouts or simply his homeworld I would greatly appreciate it. Divulging information on your once allies must be difficult for you, I won't ask you to tell me what you don't want to. " In truth he wanted nothing more than to know everything about the man who had destroyed his home. Delmon meant every word when he said he would return the favor, striking at the monsters home planet seemed like a suitable starting point. He wouldn't push however, she had already told him a great deal. Besides, there were other ways to gain the information. Especially if and when he got his hands on Royston.

 

[Vica Veszk]

It was like telling someone a sandcrawler had run over their family pet - except a thousand times worse, and the sandcrawler was being driven by a former friend. Vica never shied away from being honest, even when it involved giving less than pleasant news, but it was impossible to ignore the way Delmon's expression shifted, the gravity of her words far from lost on the man. To trust someone and have that trust broken - betrayed, really - wasn't something Vica knew much about (though she'd certainly done it to other people enough times in her life) but his face said it all. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"If it makes you feel any better," her words didn't come with a laugh or a grin. "He fooled me, too." Royston had promised her the galaxy, as her teacher. He promised her the Empress' head on a plate. Instead, he disappeared into the shadows like a scared little child, leaving her to fend for herself and forcing her into a role she was never meant to play. Eventually, Vica raised her shoulders in a small shrug. She'd had plenty of time to cut her losses with Spektor, plenty of time to get over what felt like a fairly cruel abandonment. Time had a funny way of healing most wounds, but Delmon hadn't quite had that luxury - and he didn't have just one person to mourn for, either. Leaning back on her seat, hands keeping her steady as she watched the fire build in his eyes, it took a lot of effort not to laugh at his all-important question.

Instead, she offered up a small grin. It was strange that someone could be so ignorant to the Sith and their titles - but then again, she had no idea what his culture was like, what his people called themselves when no one was listening. "He does. He is the right hand of the Empress - the Dark Lord of the Sith." Not an easy target to get to, but the man was far from invulnerable, either.

 

[T.J]

" I would expect nothing less. " His whole life had been hardship and adversity, to expect anything different so late into the game would be foolish. Delmon couldn't deny that he target was a tall order however. To be the right hand of Empress meant the butcher of Dxun was truly powerful in the ways of the force. To fight him on even terms would never happen, honor duels were a relic of a time long since past. He would need to use all the guile and skill he possessed should he ever hope of standing a chance of defeating such a foe. Any other mindset would surely spell his death, leaving his revenge unsated and wanting. News of her own betrayal at the hands of Royston did not surprise him in the least, those cut from his type of cloth would do the same to any if it was advantageous to them. He hoped their mutual disdain for the man would somehow help solidify what information Vica might divulge.

" Would you do me a service then? " Dropping to a crouch he met her gaze at an even level to her sitting position. " You were high among their ranks yes? You must have some kind of information about the one I seek. For a hunt to begin first you must know your prey. Where they go to rest, their weaknesses and faults, what routes they favor. I will stop at nothing to see the blood of my people repaid in full... All I ask is that you give a place to start. " Delmon knew even with her aid the chances of finding his target were slim at best and the prospect of actually besting his foe even slimmer. Not trying was just as bad if not worse than failing, an outcome he would not abide.