Ask Gargon'Solus

[Blank Solus]

Gargon, Edge of the Mandalore Sector​

The planet of Gargon was a shit hole, like most planets in the Mandalore sector. Something about the way they were always itching for a fight meant that Mandalorians weren't exactly the best at keeping their shit nice. Something Blank Solus could relate to, because she was itching for a fight. The planet had long ago been taken over by scum and gangsters, though the odd mandalorian here and there weren't an uncommon sight in the mountain town of Wartus. Blank wasn't there for the gangsters, or the other mandos, or even the warty ass town. She was there for one thing.

Spice.

The planet was a gold mine when it came to raw spice, processed by the gangsters into both medicinal and recreational varieties that were then proliferated across the galaxy on the black market. As far as Blank Solus was concerned, that spice should belong to Clan Solus and the Mandalorians. Ever eager to do anything other than sit on her ass, Blank had put together a little team to help her 'liberate' the spice from the great vaults of Gargon and for that reason was walking the streets of wartass in her beskar'gam. A hooded poncho covered most of her armor with really only the visor visible. It also did a good job covering the array of weapons she carried, minus the pair of WESTAR-35s on her hips.

"The vaults where the gangsters keep the spice are deep under the mountain." Blank whispered in her helmet to her compatriots over the comlink. "I don't know exactly where the access point is, but the local crime boss knows." The implication of her words were pretty clear. Get whichever crime boss ran the town to tell them where they needed to go, break in and get out. They had a fast freighter waiting on standby that could make a pickup run once they had the goods. "Anyone else is fair game." Blank finished with a grinning tone. Her trigger finger was getting itchy already and she couldn't wait for things to pop off.

@Sreeya @Mr. Teatime

 

[Dalair Solus]

Dalair looked out at the surrounding landscape from behind his helmet's visor. Once the warrior clans of Mandalore had been exiled here, among other places, by the pacifists who'd taken control of Mandalore. Now it was just another hive of scum and squalor in the Mandalore system.

A poncho covered his more traditional-looking armor as well, equipped with vambraces and everything in anticipation of a fight. His belt carried his battle hammer, his beskad, and his pistol among the many tools. Dalair's visor glanced at the Vizla with them, then turned to the other Solus as they spoke.

"They will have exiles in their service," he stated with certainty. No sane person would set up shop in the Mandalore system without hiring whatever Mandalorian mercenaries they could get their hands on. "Few in number." Such guards on retainer would discourage other criminals. It would not deter Mando'ade, but encourage them.

Dalair hadn't formally met either of these two that he remembered. What better way for Mandalorians to become acquainted than combat for the good of their people? He could think of little beyond drinks and a brawl. Which wasn't off the table for afterward. He glanced at the Vizla again, then the sky above. Names had already been passed around by now.

"Today is a good day for someone else to die."

@Arcangel @Sreeya

 

[Blank Solus]

Blank listened to her fellow Solus' comment about the fact that the local gangs would almost certainly have other Mandalorians in their service. A handful maybe. Blank had fought and killed her fair share of fellow Mandalorians growing up on Concordia, bitter feuds over rivalries and resources. She didn't relish the fact that she would likely once again be fighting against kin. She didn't shy from it either.

"Like I said, anyone else is fair game." She repeated, her voice carrying a grim but certain tone. She wasn't smiling under her helmet when she spoke, not this time. She nodded at the ancient proverb the more traditional Solus quoted, agreeing wholeheartedly. Quietly she wondered to herself if he was one of the type who never took their helmet off, or if she would get a peak under that lid. Didn't really matter either way as she began to move, heading towards the saloon that she knew was the local watering hole of the gang that ran the town.

It was an old establishment, several stories, wood and stone. It even had a pair of old school batwing style doors, a jaunty tune drifting from the establishment and out into the open air. A few civilians caught sight of the pair of Mandalorians approaching the saloon and made themselves scarce, scurrying away to barricade themselves behind locked doors and shuttered windows. Even a town like this needed normal folk to keep it running.

"You ready to dance Dalair?" Blank asked as she walked up to the batwing doors, the tone carrying with it the grin she bore under her helmet. This was what she lived for, what she would one day die for. The thrill of a coming fight, the uncertainty of which breath would be her last. The competition of warriors to see who would live and who would die. She hadn't lost yet. Today was a good day for someone else to die.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Dalair Solus]

He nodded in grim agreement. There was no great joy in spilling Mandalorian blood, even most exiles, but they will have chosen their path and the two Solus had chosen theirs. If they met with lethal impact, well... This was the Way.

Passing the fleeing civilians without interest, Dalair double-checked his weapons and tools. Blank was the frontline here. not that Dalair couldn't fight, but he was primarily a combat engineer rather than a commando. Then again, in the close quarters of a saloon with enemies in reach of his hammer- Dance, did they say?

"I don't dance," the armorer plainly stated just before walking through the swing-open doors. The sight of two Mandalorians- one in Solus colors and the other in old-school attire- drew near-immediate attention. Several turned away entirely in the hopes of not being noticed. The local gang members were obvious precisely because they stared at the newcomers, sizing them up. Most of the two Solus' weapons were hidden, but Mandalorians were known for three things and one of them was weaponry.

And the average Mandalorian was seen as either a mercenary or bounty hunter. Dalair strode across the rickety floor, boots causing the wood to creak with every step, before being intercepted by a rough-looking Nikto.

"Y'new 'round here?" the Nikto asked aggressively, chest puffed like a bird desperate for a mate and with drunken slur and swagger.

@Arcangel

 

[Blank Solus]

Blank glanced at Dalair as he said he didn't dance. The expression hadn't been literal. Blank didn't dance either. "Shame." The Solus clan warrior said as they entered the saloon, scanning the room with her eyes behind her visor. There were plenty of patrons just drinking who quickly shied back to their drinks. The gangsters made themselves obvious scattered about the room, locking their eyes on the pair of Mandalorians as they started walking towards the bar.

A swaggering Nikto stood in their way, asking stupid questions. Of course they were new around here.

"Do you think he dances?... Follow me left." Blank tilted their head and asked Dalair in Mando'a, ensuring that the Nikto wouldn't know her words. The angry drunk's face scowled as she spoke in the unfamiliar tongue. Blank sighed before switching to basic.

"Yeah uh. We heard that this was the dance hall?" She said, causing the Nikto's constipated looking face to shockingly shrivel up even more.

"Uhwuu...?" The Nikto started to slur in confusion. The sound that came out of his mouth transformed into more of a "Uhwuhhkkguuuuaaah!?" As Blank's foot slammed into his chest and sent him stumbling backwards towards the laps of another pair of gangsters sitting at a table. Blank didn't slow down though, having kicked off the party, and her pair of WESTAR blasters were out of their holsters in a flash, the right putting a bolt in the fallen man's chest as he landed while the left hand gun swung towards the left side of the room with Blanks head snapping over to quickly aim down the barrel.

Pew pew. Yellow bolts spat from the guns and put the leftmost pair of gangsters onto the ground before she lurched in that direction, rushing forwards a few paces as her right hand fired towards the pair of deadfriendcatchers while she sent a table tumbling over to form some cover with a kick before ducking behind it as blaster bolts flew back in return, the various drunken gangsters around the room finally came upon the sense of what was going on.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Dalair Solus]

Dalair followed and moved into action as Blank started the fight, shooting forward to scoop up one of the gangsters in a wrestling tackle and slamming them into the bar counter with a pronounced crunch. While his species under the helmet was concealed, Firrerreon strength helped a much in a fight as with forging. An elbow slammed into the man's temple before Dalair flipped him over and grabbed him by the back of his jacket, spinning around and drawing his pistol.

The hesitation from a Mandalorian using their buddy as a meat shield resulted in two center mass shots on other gangsters while Dalair charged toward Blank's overturned table. He briefly holstered the pistol to grab something else from his belt, slapped his second hand on his still-living cover, and bodily hefted them as a projectile toward where several gangsters were taking cover.

"Holy fuck is he ok-? WATCH OU-!?" BOOM! The frag charge Dalair had slapped onto the body shredded him and his buddies, sending table shrapnel and shards of bone out amongst the rest of their group. Suffice to say the gang members were shellshocked by this new development.

@Arcangel