Ask Hang up your Spurs

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Takadona​

Gett'se Vizsla was tired. The scans from orbit had indicated a small clearing in the forests of Takadona that he figured would be a good place to set up camp for the night. The old Mandalorian brought the older gunship down to land, thruster's washing bark off a tree, repulsers sending forest floor debris flying. The Y-wing shuddered as it settled in on its landing gear. He cut the engine and sat for a moment, images of bloodshed flashing from recent memory, watching once more as his youngest fell to the blade of another Mandalorian.

The cockpit hissed and Gett'se stirred, climbing out, still clad in his beskar'gam. Swinging down the ladder rungs on the side of the ship, his knees ached. He was almost happy to feel the crunching of twigs under his boot as he turned to survey his landing zone. A small, natural clearing that had been stripped of brush by his landing. A perfect place to dig in for the night.

The Mandalorian found an ideal patch of ground, near the roots of an old tree. His gloved hand brushed the tree's bark for a moment, its skin like his own, the mottled and worn bark nearly matching the scuffed, dented, and scarred, carbon scorched armor he wore. A short shovel in hand, he began to dig just outside the root system of the tree. He could have just slept in his Y-wing, where he spent most of his nights in the small personnel bay that had been fashioned into a home, but he wanted to feel the air of the night sky on his face.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

THEME​

The monitoring station on Andui had spotted the Y-wing descending planetside and informed the ranger office. It was a courtesy call, because the rodian was new in the sector and seemed to often visit a ranch in the same general area as the unknown ship had sped off to. The Sector Rangers didn't usually care enough to follow through, but this one, Jon Callo was both a local and someone they were -perhaps by association- a bit scared of, too.

Jon did follow through and tried to follow the Y-wing on his speeder bike. It was a difficult thing to do, following the general direction, trying to spot it through the branches of a forest of trees and maneuvering through it as well. Eventually, just as the sun was setting and the air got considerably colder, the rodian spotted the ship parked in a valley that he was about to descend to.

It was better to be a little more careful from here on out, so he killed the engine and approached on foot with his hand close to his holstered blaster.

Someone in heavy armor, clearly a Mandalorian by the looks of him, had just finished digging a hole. With measured caution, the ranger stepped out into the clearing; "No need to dig your own grave, stranger." Not yet, anyway.

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se had just finished digging the foundations of his Vheh'yaim, and was surveying the work standing next to a pile of branches he had gathered earlier. There was still plenty of work to do and the sun was already setting, making him wonder if it was age or grief that had slowed him down. As a youth he had built many of the shelters, much quicker. Perhaps he was getting slow.

A twig cracked as a stranger stepped into the clearing and Gett'se almost reached for his blaster as the man spoke. Instead he stayed stone still, suppressing the quick draw instict that had kept him alive for all those years bounty hunting.

"Not a grave, just a Vheh'yaim." He said as he turned his head to look at the man. A Rodian if Gett'se's eyes didn't deceive him, it was hard to tell in the dark. "Grass hut. Shelter." He added, realizing that the man probably didn't speak Mando'a. His eyes fell to the blaster on the Rodian's hip, the way that the man's hand hovered near it. Not threatening, but not trusting. He had held his own hand that way many times before.

"I've dug enough graves." He said after a tense moment, turning back to his work. If the Rodian had been planning on shooting him, he would have done it already. Grabbing an armful of branches, he stepped into the shallow pit and started setting them up in a criss-crossing ring, building the framework for the roof.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

STILL THE THEME​

The man's armor reflected no natural light and he was making a grass shelter next to a perfectly functioning Y-wing. Everything about this man screamed that he wanted to be left alone, yet that just made Jon more curious. The comment about having dug enough graves his home for the Sector Ranger and Jon realized he stopped hovering over his peacemaker. "You know," he stepped closer now, his Sector Ranger badge would become visible for the armored man to see and recognize, "twenty more seconds of flight and you'd have been at my mom's ranch."

The Belching Frog Ranch wasn't much to look at, sure, but it offered a warm meal and Jon's old room offered some privacy and shelter that was much better than whatever a grass hut was. "Name's Jon Callo," subconsciously his hand went back to hovering over his blaster. If people recognized the name Callo then it usually meant they had some kind of involvement in the galactic underworld, which for a ranger was useful information to have. "I'm one of the Tashtor Sector's rangers," his free hand tapped the Sector Rangers badge on his chest. "Why don't you come to her ranch in the morning," his free hand now pointed into the direction of the Belching Frog Ranch. The suggestion was an obvious one; the Sector Ranger wanted to see the armored man in daylight and have a chat about what he had come doing in this sector and on this planet. "We can introduce ourselves a little better then." Ofcourse, rodians didn't suffer from a lack of light and could even see the infrared spectrum, but that didn't give him much of an excuse to test the stranger's motivations now did it?

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se continued his work as the Rodian approached, keeping an eye on the interloper. The man's hand seemed to relax, and as he approached, Gett'se spotted the shine of a badge on his chest. Lawman. It also seemed that if his words were true that Gett'se was the interloper. He must be getting lazy in his old age, he hadn't spotted the ranch on his flight over.

There was a slight pause in Gett'se's work as the Rodian introduced himself, the Mandalorian freezing halfway to placing a stick with his right hand from the bundle under his left arm. He was in a bad position to draw, and he noted the way the Rodian's hand resumed its hover. The moment passed, and Gett'se resumed placing branches.

"Name's Gett'se..." He started, his eye wandering past Jon to the Y-wing where the clan sigil had been scraped away. "Just Gett'se." He finished after a moment of contemplation. Sector Ranger huh. Made sense, way out here in the rim there wasn't much law, and what there was was spread real thin. At Jon's offer to stop by his mother's ranch in the morning, Gett'se paused, staring at him for a moment. He had come out here to be alone, but it wasn't a bad idea to make nice with the local lawman. And... He had questions.

"I might just do that." He said with a nod before resuming his work, finishing out the frame and climbing out of the pit through a small ramp that opened up the front, walking over to a piled of boughs which he began to pile up over the frame, interweaving them to form a roof. He glanced at Jon again as he worked.

"That all? I'm about to start peeling bark. Don't want you getting all jumpy with that pistol when I pull out my beskad." He said referencing the sword hilt that was sticking out over his right shoulder.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

STILL THE THEME​

Some things didn't quite add up. Jon wasn't an idiot and knew that the Mandalorians, and his armor definitely betrayed this Gett'se to be one, had done a crusade, conquered and then lost a lot of territory in the known galaxy. Still, if Jon's own father had found some manner of peace and quiet on Takodana then he knew that others with similarly violent pasts could find peace here as well. The rodian decided not to pry any further right now.

"That's all, Gett'se-" he made a move to turn around, "Come to the ranch in the morning, alright?"

and with that the ranger walked off into the night to return to his speeder. He'd toss and turn a bit inside the prefab cabin of the Belching Frog Ranch tonight and mull it over. The ranch didn't have a connection to the HoloNet and he'd have to go all the way back to Andui if he wanted to research the Mandalorians and cross-reference the name Gett'se. Instead he could only rely on the questions he'd ask the man tomorrow, if he didn't take his Y-wing and run at first light, that is.

_________________​

The night sky had been open and while it had cooled down considerable, it hadn't rained. Jon had been awake early to feed the small herd of Bantha and was now enjoying his first cup of freshly made caf from the porch of the main prefab cabin. He was hoping the Mandalorian would show..

..it would say a lot about his character.

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se watched the Rodian leave, keeping an eye on the Sector Rangers back for a long moment until he disappeared into the treeline. After a few moments, the distant sound of a speeder bike kicking to life reverberated through the forest.

Callo. Gett'se pondered the name. He wondered if there was any relation to the legendary gunslinger Preef Callo. Shaking his head, Gett'se returned to his work in the dark.

He tried to settle down once the work was complete, but the nagging thoughts kept him awake. The thought of the meeting that he would be having the next day with the Sector Ranger... Well there were only a couple ways that could go. Half of them ended with someone dying. Try as he might he couldn't sleep so instead he got up and set out.

Hiking in the dark forest would have been spooky to someone less experienced, but the Mandalorian had spent plenty of nights in his life walking through dark woods. His thermal imaging kept him from running into a tree or anything of that sort and he subsisted off a canteen of water and some dry rations in his belt pouch. He eventually reached the border of the clearing where the Rodian's ranch lay, observing from a distance through a pair of macrobinocs for a moment before settling back to wait for morning.

-----​

Gett'se awoke with a start as a bird pecked at the top of his helmet. Startled, the bird flew off and Gett'se groaned, sitting up from the cradle of roots where he had slept, his back against a solid tree. He didn't remember falling asleep and as he glanced around he could tell that the sun was just starting to rise. A peek through his macrobinocs revealed the Rodian enjoying a cup of caf on the front porch of the ranch house.

Rising, Gett'se started his walk towards the house, breaking the tree line in the morning light. He still wore his armor in all its battered glory. He had left his rifle at camp, not seeing a need for it. He was still outfitted with his various war gear, he rarely went without.

Blaster pistol holstered on his right hip in a grip forward twist draw. A lightsaber dangled on his left hip and Matukai gauntlets on his hands, trophies from Lothal. His beskad was sheathed over his right shoulder and a vibroknife was sheathed at his left breast. An intimidating sight for anyone to see approaching their home.

Gett'se came to a stop in front of the house as he appraised the building and the Rodian sitting on the porch through the slit of his visor.

"Ranger Callo." Gett'se said with a nod, awaiting the man's reaction to his presence.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

STILL THE THEME​

The rodian was halfway through his cup when he spotted the Mandalorian step through the treeline to approach the ranch. By the time he had walked over the cup was empty and Jon pulled out a cigarette with his left hand. His dad had once thought him a neat trick with a peacemaker, so he pulled it out swiftly and flexed his skill to the armored man in order to pull the trigger in such a way that the energized chamber got hot enough to light the cigarette, but not hot enough to unleash a bolt of heavy plasma through the barrel.

Only once he put the cigarette between his lips and holstered the blaster with a flick of his wrist did he turn towards the Mandalorian. "Gett'se, good of you to come, early too." Jon hadn't expected him this early, but it was more convenient. He had a few hours to kill before he needed to refill the water reserves in the other cabin and herd the bantha towards the other field for grazing.

"Can I offer you something?" he felt like it was a redundant question. Mandalorians didn't usually eat or drink in someone else's presence when they followed The Way, and it did seem in their interaction the night before that Gett'se was one of those so-called religious fanatics. "We got stew, caf and if you want it-" he motioned towards the second prefab cabin, "-enough fresh water still to shower in privacy." Perhaps the man would appreciate the change to take off the armor and clean it as well as himself.

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se was alarmed as he stood there and the Rodian pulled his blaster. Not facing him of course, not intended to gun him down, instead simply charging the barrel to light his cigarette. It wouldn't have mattered if Gett'se went for his own, he realized as he watched the Rodian handle his pistol.

"I already ate." Gett'se shrugged off the offer of food or caf, though he couldn't lie to himself. A cup of caf sounded good. He glanced at the second cabin the Rodian gestured to, the offer of a shower and privacy. He had given himself a dry shower that night, before he had attempted finding the elusive sleep in his grass hut.

"Maybe... Maybe later." Gett'se said after a moment as his visor and gaze lingered on the cabin for a moment before returning them to settle on Jon. That was, if he was still alive later. He didn't think the lawman intended to put him down, but he was a warrior. A crusader. He couldn't blame the man if he did.

"Let's drop the niceties." Gett'se finally said gruffly after a moment's consideration. He didn't like the whole 'hi, how are you, nice weather' that the people of the galaxy usually engaged in. He was a Mandalorian and he preferred to get right to it. "You wanted me to come here, Ranger, I assume you have questions." He said, cutting straight to the chase.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

STILL THE THEME​

The Mandalorian refused both nourishment and refreshment. Neither were especially good signs if he planned to become a local, but even worse if that meant he was here for a different reason. Sometimes these remote planets were targets of robbers, armed and armored, much like Jon's father was, and it was the rodian's job to protect the locals from these kind of outlaws..

"I do," he shrugged and stepped off the porch to have his eyes on the same height as the other man's visor. "Mandalorians aren't a common sight around these parts." In fact, Mandalorians weren't a common sight anywhere in the galaxy right now. Although, his father would probably know more than the average man. Warriors in peacetime often become robbers and oppressors, after all. "So, Gett'se-" what happened next was something Jon wasn't proud of: He'd sound exactly like his father. "-what are your intentions on Takadona?" It often happened when he was sure there'd be trouble. When he'd have to draw his own peacemaker and shoot a man when he hoped it could've been avoided.

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

There was a sort of tension that filled the air between the two as Jon stepped off the porch and onto Gett'se's level. He looked Gett'se in the visor as he spoke, something the warrior respected. He had been in this position many times over the years, the standoff where it was likely one of them wasn't going to be walking away.

It wasn't exactly what he had had in mind when he had walked down from the treeline.

The way he saw it, there were two places this could go. He could be obstinate and cocky. They could shoot it out and maybe he would live. Maybe he would get a warrior's death, die there in the dirt on some nowhere planet with nobody to sing praises to his name. But he would join his children and his comrades in the Manda, like he always imagined he would.

He was old now, tired. It would be as good a death as any now that the war was ended.

Or... he could do what he had come to Takadona to do. To put it all behind him. To live the rest of his life in the unfamiliarity of peace. To dare to dream of something other than an honorable death.

His hand hovered near his blaster for a moment as he thought about it. One thing was for certain, his suspicions were confirmed the moment that Jon spoke. Really spoke, when lives were on the line. This was the son of Preef Callo standing before him. It would be an honorable way to go out, under the gun of the legend's son...

 

[Jon Callo]

THEME CHANGE​

Outlaw, after all. Gett'se had answered his question by moving his hand towards his blaster pistol and so Jon mirrored him. They were both inching closer to their respective pistols now, the tension building as the eyes of a gunslinger were directed at the armored man in front of him.

Years ago, not far from where they stood, Jon had mock-dueled with Preef and won. For a second the ranger realized the similar tension. He had played it back then, his father had, too, but this time it was for real. The wind rushed through the trees and over the fields of grass. The small herd of Bantha could be heard complaining in the distance. Other than that it was awfully quiet. No bustle of a city-world, no traffic in the sky and no one around to stop these two men from stubbornly trying to cheat death by laughing in its face.

"So you do work for the cartel," the rodian said as he waited for the Mandalorian to move to draw first. His voice was very much that of the legendary outlaw, the likes of which he had sworn to hunt down when he so impulsively joined the Sector Rangers at sixteen. He figured one day cartel assassins would come for Preef Callo's family.

@Arcangel

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se hadn't even noticed the slow drift of the hand towards his blaster, the instinctual movement as he edged closer and closer to death. The wind whistled through the trees, grass swaying to it's gentle tune. Their eyes remained locked and for a moment Gett'se could see his life flashing before his eyes. Not really of course, but he could imagine it.

Preef's voice echoed again in the clearing, harkening back to that day long ago when Gett'se had been in a similar situation with Jon's father. A time when the name wasn't known across the galaxy, when the old Rodian was just cementing his legend. He had backed down then, ended up taking a job from the man...

Would Jon be standing here today if he hadn't? Or would Gett'se be long dead, tossed in the gutter on Eriadu, stripped of his beskar'gam and his life long before the crusade, long before he had fathered or adopted any children. The tension remained for a moment as Gett'se considered Jon's words. Would he go out being thought of as some cartel gunman? The thought disgusted him.

"No." He answered quietly. His finger itched for the familiar feel of the trigger, blaster bucking in the palm of his hand. He had lived by the gun for near on four decades now, carrying one from such a young age. It was all he knew...

Could he know something more?

Slowly, his hand moved away from the blaster on his hip. His stance softened slightly as he wondered if there was more to life than this. More to life than living on the edge of it, teetering over the void. If Jon had been a dishonorable man, in that moment, he would have already won.

"I came to Takadona," Gett'se started to speak again as he raised both his hands up, away from the blaster. "To find peace." He finished, his hands settling on the base of his helmet. A gentle hiss filled his ears as the seal on the helmet broke. For what was perhaps one of the few times in his life, Gett'se felt fear. Uncertainty.

He raised the helmet up off of his head, darkness obscuring his vision for a moment. The helmet fell to the ground by his side. The light warmed his head in the presence of another and the wind caressed his face. He looked up at Jon, meeting the other man's eyes with his own, without the visor. For the first time, since he was a child.

@Eccles

 

[Jon Callo]

THEME CHANGE​

Silence had followed his question for a moment until the Mandalorian answered quietly and slowly removed his hand away from the blaster on his hip. Jon watched in disbelief as he saw Gett'se's hands go towards his helmet. His helmet. All he knew of Mandalorians that followed the Way was that they never showed their face to anyone. Trying to remove one's helmet was a death sentence. Remove it yourself in the presence of others and you were Mandalorian no longer.

The hiss shocked the rodian and for some reason he felt afraid. He was about to witness an event of unexplainable importance to the sentient being in front of him. There wouldn't be a way back.

Gett'se was human. Jon guessed him to be in his fifties. No young warrior looking to lead his clan in conquest, but an old man who had seen it all already. The rodian's countenance softened and his right hand went up to his cigarette instead of down to his blaster.

The man's eyes said enough. Jon knew those eyes and knew what it meant to accompany the words that were spoken. Unlike Jon's father, Gett'se appeared to be sincere. "You'll find it here," he said in his own familiar voice, before turning around and stepping onto the porch again. "Come, sit. Let's exchange stories," they both had them, "Or just sit. We have an hour to kill and then you can help me move the herd to the other field."

@Arcangel