Ask Time In A Bottle

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

The comlink faded to black, tired of staring at a blank screen, fingers typing keys only to not hit send. He thought about reaching out to old friends, his partners, his comrades, but the old man had resigned to drift like the dust, fading away on the frontier.

Give me enough of these and my whole night will fade to black. He should have felt proud about cutting back on his whiskey lately, sipping his first glass that night in a Corellian cantina, but he only felt weak.

Jilrean Black, the bourbon was called. The bottle on the shelf had a black gold label, amber nectar behind it, tasted like burnt apricot with a sweet caramel finish.
The patron savored the sip on his stool, desiring to become little else in the cantina as he blended in with the crowd. It’s no Ranger they see…just a man in a black coat.

The bar was busy, bustling with many patrons more, many of them new arrivals from the ships entering the spaceport.
Zad was one of them, having been in the city for a few days, but somehow felt like he had only just walked off the boat that very morning.

What becomes of time but to bite the dust? Those words were a tad too flowery for his tongue, some Jedi had once recited them, but suddenly they bit his brain as he gazed at the viewscreen, saw a Zabrak news anchor, but saw a different woman. Aemi…

There were mornings when Zad Ruzed never saw her face, days when he never thought of her, but there were evenings when she crept so close, nights when it was all the old man could do to see. I’m sorry, Aemi… I’m sorry.

He took another sip, this one longer than the last, and stared at the bottom of the glass. The bar’s music was apt, guitar strings strumming the threads of eardrums, bouncing memories between a dusty Ranger’s ears. They couldn’t hear as well as they used to.

A knuckle drummed on the counter, the bartender making the glass whole again, as Zad’s comlink vibrated and showed a woman’s name, but it was a different woman.

She would be here shortly, another lost soul like this one, maybe. She was also a soldier like him, in her own way, with her own battles, her own enemies.
Ranger… Mandalorian… Shield or helm, we’re just protecting what matters most. Tonight they shared the same enemies and the same battles.

Lips sip from glass as a hand slips behind a long leather coat, fighting the memory of those fingers being as slender as a woman’s, grasping a black gold badge.
It meant something once, but the handle at his hip meant something more. Even if we have to kill to protect. With blaster, with knife...with dagger.


@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

The last time she’d seen him was on Coruscant. There, she’d told him that she was only a transmission away if he needed her… and Zaia kept her promises.

They had agreed to meet at a bar, and fortunately that was a setting she was used to by now despite the fact that she almost never drank. It was filled with all kinds of beings, beings who each had their own stories and memories, their own struggles, their own successes… and alcohol did have a tendency to loosen some of those up enough for them to fall out for others to hear. For a warrior trained to kill, she had a surprising inclination and patience to listen to them ramble on about their families, their work, their lives.

But Zad’s story was unique. She didn’t know everything, but she knew enough to care, and to care deeply. What had started out as a mere bank robbery had spiraled into reliving a nightmare for the Ranger, and she knew that their meeting today would have something to do with it. Zad was her friend, almost like a father, and she would be there for whatever he needed.

“Mornin’, partner.” She sat down on the empty stool beside him, a smile on her face as she looked over at the Ranger. “You called, I came. I hear you’re interested in cleaning up some Daggers?”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

Someone changed the jukebox and Zad was in favor of it. Had Zaia not have strolled up right then and there then he might just have knocked back his second glass and tapped for a third.

“Partner,” Zad called back without tearing his gaze from the bottles on the wall and the view screen above. “That's right.” He raised his glass but did not gulp. A partner, a comrade, a friend to keep you balanced, keep you in check...keep you sane.

Guitar strings continued to strum as the lone ranger watched a commercial, drifting from a desert to an oasis, though there was no water waiting for him, just the blood of the guilty.

Offering to first buy a fellow patron a drink, Zad finally looked Zaia in the eye. Don’t ever grow old, kid.
“Let's just say I followed a trail from Coruscant to Corellia. Turns out an agent of our Six Daggers came here to broker a deal with a local player. I don’t know what but I do know where.”

Zad lifted his glass to wet his whistle and then his comlink to show Zaia a photo. “Club Snow, AKA Cin’ciri. Underground establishment with one key rule: You gotta be Mandalorian to get in and you gotta have armor to be Mandalorian.”

He feebly lifted his coat, indicating that leather armor was not acceptable. “So, I’m thinking you go in alone and I monitor your movements from outside, be your eyes and ears while you dig around.” That was one option and it sounded solid in his head.
“Or you procure me some of that beskar’gem and I get to experience what sipping whiskey through a straw feels like.”


@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

“Ha. Sounds like every Mandalorian club I’ve ever known,” Zaia commented, giving the bartender a nod of thanks as he slid her her signature glass of water. “On a more serious note, I don’t think I have a spare set of armor just lying around. My clan is pretty protective over the beskar we have.” She paused, trying to think of a way this could work.

“But… we could get you one, if you want. I could go in and you stay out, like you said, take someone out that has armor your size, and there’s your beskar! I’ve always wanted to see you in our ‘gam.” She gave him a grin, even though she had her own doubts about it. Mandalorians weren’t known for being pushovers, and even against another Mandalorian, it would be a tough fight for both sides. But when did something difficult ever stop her?

“Or… if you want a break from the action, we could go with the first plan. It’s your call, old man. Either way, you’ll be safe. Mostly.” She punched him lightly on the upper arm.

“Those Daggers’ll feel the burn soon. One way or another.”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

It made sense that these people didn’t keep a change of armor for every meal but then the Mandalorian read the Ranger’s mind. Truth be told he did not feel like sitting still on this one.

“Yeah, and I’m the one who’s gonna light the match.” That sparked a cigarette, smoke blowing up and away. “Well, I guess we’re taking the scenic route, kid.”
Moments later and the tab was paid, a glass left half-empty as Zad got up and turned toward the exit. “Do, done, did.”

One montage later and a man would be sleeping some extra hours in a hotel room, an empty chest where his beskar’gam used to be.

Two figures headed for a heavy door at the end of a long corridor beneath a big building.
One of them was a Mandalorian of gray blue ‘gam whose signet was a vornskr skull.
The other, a Mandalorian of black and purple, whose signet looked like a hippo.

“It’s a little tighter than I thought,” the Ranger expressed, tugging at his crotch as the pair of clubbers approached the pair of bouncers.
Those two looked like mean Mandos, resting hands on blasters as they decided who did and did not enter Cin’ciri.

“Ganar nuhur, vod.” A bouncer stared like a statue and Zad was sure one visor was burning into the other.
Hope he’s not demanding invitations. Fortunately the Ranger had spent some time brushing up on his Mando’a.

“Uh, warra’se, vod.” Zad responded behind his helmet, a little tight on the head. “Kri'gee gihaal, uj'alayi.”

The two bouncers exchanged a look, looked back at Purple Black and Gray Blue, tilted their heads.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

Result: 5
Reason: Zad's Mando'a

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

“I think it suits you.” Zaia gave Zad a friendly nudge with her elbow as the pair made their way up to the bouncers. “The artistic design is a bit… you know, but the beskar makes you look fresh.” When they approached, the bouncers didn’t seem suspicious of the pair at all, which was a relief.

“Vor’e!” she responded with a grin underneath her helmet, but then Zad piped in something about… fish meal and cake? The two guards exchanged a look, and Zaia immediately moved in and put her arm around his shoulders, pretending like she was holding Zad up.

“He’s had a little too much to drink. Sorry, vods,” she quickly added in Basic so Zad could play along. The guards shrugged, nodded at each other, and opened the door.

"Sur'ulur kaysh," one said as the pair walked in. She could hear the amusement in his voice— at least he’d bought it. Zaia gave him a thumbs up and hastily ushered Zad in before the door slid shut behind them. When they were in a relatively isolated spot, Zaia would turn to her partner.

“I can handle the talking. You try and see if there’s anyone acting suspicious or fits the profile,” she said in a low voice. If someone found out that Zad wasn’t who he appeared to be, she didn’t want to risk angering a whole room full of Mandalorians.

Just then, someone with black and purple armor like Zad’s approached the pair. And it wasn’t only the colors that matched, it was the signet too, and Zaia realized that whoever this was, was part of the same clan. Oh no.

“Su cuy'gar! Welcome back, vod. It’s been a long time.” It was a woman speaking judging from the voice, and she held out a hand for Zad to shake. Fortunately, her greeting was in Basic, but before Zad had a chance to respond, the hippo Mando went on, tilting her head at Zaia. “Who’s this?”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

“Drunk off the blood of my enemies!” Zad raised a fist as Zaia carried his drunken self toward the doorway. “Bu’at cetare, daworir! Qapla'!” Began to sing. “Beskar oya oya beskar!”

Whether he overdid it, it was Mandalorian armor he was in and a Mandalorian lived in it. Does, more like. Will have to give it back. Too tight. Smells like shaving cream.

Thoughts raced through the Ranger’s mind as he came to terms with the fact that he was suddenly in a room pulsating with music, lights and bucketheads.
While the armor didn’t make the man a Mandalorian, to these Mandalorians he was one of them.

Still, Zad was sure to keep silent and be still and let the real Mando do the talking.
One good thing about his helmet was that he could look at anyone without them knowing it.
He didn’t need to look far. Oh no.

The Ranger was already fumbling with what to say. He was no roleplayer by any means, usually just kicked teeth in, and tended to scratch his head when being deceitful.

“Helmet okay?” Asked the hippo.

“Huh?” Zad lowered his arm. “Oh. Yep. Banged it. On…my enemy...s'helmet.”

The hippo woman shrugged as if she had already done that today. “So who’s this?”

One thing the other hippo was good at was listening to a woman’s voice.
That’s the tone you take when talking to your superior.
Suddenly Ranger Zad Ruzed remembered Ranger Corran Velt.

“This is Rango Katana.” Zad fistbumped Zaia's pauldron. "A new recruit for the clan!”

There it was again, that awkward pause of a black visor staring blankly before the hippo slapped a hand on Zaia’s shoulder.
“Glad to hear it, sister! Our ranks need to grow! Now let’s go get shot!”
Zad had some reservations about that idea before his clanmate pointed to the bar. Oh.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

Result: 15
Reason: Talking to a hippo

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Zad fistbumped her pauldron, and Zaia grinned from underneath her helmet before she realized that her face was underneath a helmet so the hippo couldn’t see. That led to a few seconds of awkwardness before she pulled herself together.

“Hi, yes. I’m Rango. Mhm.” But the hippo wasn’t even listening, which was probably a good thing, instead slapping a hand on her shoulder and suggesting that they go to the bar instead. Oh kark no. Zaia looked at Zad, as if asking him for help.

“Uhh… sure, we’ll be with you in a sec.” The hippo saluted back, and found an empty seat with two more beside her. Already, she had a drink in her hand, and Zaia turned back to Zad.

“Look, I never told you why I don’t drink, right?” She couldn’t believe she was saying this. “I can’t. One shot of the stuff and I’m done for the day.” Normally she just ordered water, but she couldn’t do that in front of all the others. How embarrassing would it be to have Zad drag her out after just one drink?

“‘Ey! You coming or not?” The hippo had twisted around to look back at the pair, and Zaia nodded hurriedly. She would have to think fast. Pulling Zad with her, she sat on the leftmost seat, letting her partner sit in between her and the hippo.

“Whaddya want?” the bartender asked Zad. When it was her turn, she declined with a shake of her head, and the hippo leaned forward curiously.

“Nothing, Rango? Loosen up a bit, sister.”

“Can’t. Creed says no taking off my helmet.” It was the first lie she could come up with, but it seemed to work.

“Aw, one of you? Should have gotten someone more fun. This next mission‘ll be a long one.” Hippo elbowed Zad, and Zaia let out a sigh of relief. She’d dodged a bullet— for now.

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

“I mean, you are kinda small." The Ranger didn't hold against the tough Mando chick the fact that she was a lightweight. Were Zaia Zad's daughter then he would not want her following the dirty footsteps of her father's bloody boots.

Fast forward to a bar, one man sandwiched between two women looked up from his stool and pointed to a silver red label on a rack, got a nod of approval from the bartender.

“You know your bourbon, bub.” He had a helmet on too, black and yellow, and when asked about his signet he said it was a wolverine.

The hippo’s elbow connected with the Ranger’s arm and he spilled some of his whiskey. Fortunately his gloves weren’t actually his.

“No problem, sister,” the wolverine turned to Zaia. “We cater to all kinds in Cin’ciri.” He slid over a jar of straws.

“Get the gal a Racin Orar!” The hippo raised a glass and went for another elbow. This time, Zad set his glass down just in time, what he would call a preemptive dodge. Bet every di’kut I put in prison wishes they had made one of those.

Whatever a Racin Orar was, maybe the straw could afford the Mandalorian some slow sips? Hoping to help with that by distracting others from watching his partner, Zad turned to the hippo in the room.

“Good to see a room full of beskar again, vod!”
Glasses clinked. Some whiskey spilled on someone else’s armor.
“Gotta make sure, though…we don’t let any aruetti in and ruin a good time, right?”
Zad knew a few Mandalorian words at least.

“No, sir!” Hippo assured. Then she added: “Business is taken upstairs. If you ain’t got a bucket on your head then you ain’t got business downstairs! OYA!”

With that ‘oorah!’ the hippo swung her helmet into the other hippo’s helmet and, like a row of dominoes, his helmet crashed into the vornskr’s helmet and soon enough a whole row of stools erupted with the -pop!-pop!-pop!- of Mandalorian helmets bumping into each other like bowling pins.

Zad was sure to spill some more whiskey on himself during all of this, glad that whoever owned the tight pants, well, at least it wasn’t him and he was definitely giving the suit back.


@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Turns out, maybe the bullet had landed after all. The bartender whipped out a glass of straws, and Zaia was glad she had a helmet on because the look on her face was one of utter disbelief.

“Haar’chak!” she muttered under her breath as she reluctantly accepted the Racin Orar. You’ve got to be kidding me. Just from a look, she had a feeling that this thing was loaded. Thankfully, Zad had decided to initiate some conversation with the others, taking the attention off her.

She forced herself to take a small sip though, as she listened to Zad talk with the hippo. If an agent of the Daggers(who were anything but Mandalorian) had done business with anyone here, then it would have been upstairs from the sound of it. That would be a good place to start.

However, a stroke of good luck did strike her when Zad’s helmet suddenly struck hers in mid-sip. That caused the entire drink to spill over the counter, and she was more than relieved that she didn’t have to have the rest of it. She’d have to thank him for that later, or even the hippo next to him. Already her stomach was starting to burn.

“You know, I actually have an appointment coming up soon,” she said to excuse herself. Zad was welcome to stay and find out some more information should he need to, but she was going to have a look around “upstairs” to see if there were any clues left. However, it was more of an attempt to escape the bar, and she quickly made her exit before anyone could say anything more.

Okayy… now for those Daggers.

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC

Upstairs turned out to refer to one level just above the club’s main floor. The music shifted up here, rooms lining either side of a corridor that ended with two guards on either door.

Along the way, Zad spotted a private party on his left, a private dance on his right, made sure the helmet on his head was secure because suddenly it felt too tight.

“We come out of that room,” the Ranger told his partner as they approached. “Or we don’t.”
It was as simple as that. No conditions, no exceptions, no pretenses.

When all was said and done, when the joke of a purple black hippo wore off with the whiskey, Zad Ruzed was here to drive daggers into those that deserved to die. For taking the lives of those who don't. All he had to do was find the last few.

“Ke’mot!” A guard held up his hand, didn’t point his blaster just yet, but Zad got the gist of what he meant. “If you’re looking to sit down with the Iron Bull then you better have an invitation or a good reason.”

Hmm, Zad thought. Maybe Zaia could but Zad couldn't think of a good reason off the top of his head. Though, whoever owned his armor apparently also owned Clan Hippo. Maybe there’s an invite in my pocket?

“Hold your horses here just gimme a sec,” he sniffed, patting himself down. “Know it’s here somewhere s’just can’t remem— here it is."

The other guard accepted the invite, looked up, looked down, looked up. “It’s expired.”

Kark.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

Result: 8
Reason: Is that an invitation in my pocket?

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Zaia was grateful that Zad had decided to come with her, because she had no idea how she was going to do this alone. She held her breath as the Ranger handed the invitation over, or what looked like an invitation, and the second guard inspected it closely. Finally, he handed it back, said it was expired, and Zaia scowled.

“Expired? What do you mean, it’s expired?” Zaia made a show of grabbing the invitation from Zad, looking it over before handing it back to the very-surprised guard.

“Look here sir, it’s only expired by ten minutes.” She pointed to the invitation. Technically they were late by nearly twenty, which was still way better than she’d imagined, but rounding down couldn’t hurt. “I demand to see your manager!”

“But ma’am, our manager is the Iron Bull—”

“Is there a problem?” a booming voice asked. The door opened, and a helmeted man with a giant purple hippo on his chest armor stepped out from behind. He was taller than both her and Zad by at least another head, and given his build she had a feeling that this guy was one of those beings who went to the gym every day for hours. Even on the weekends.

“We, uh, had an invitation to see you, Iron…” Don’t say hippo don’t say hippo don’t say hippo— “Hip— Bull.”

The man stared at her for a second, then waved them in. “You’re late. But I’ll make an exception. I rather like being called Hipbull.” Exchanging a glance with Zad, Zaia would shrug and follow him in.

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

Sorry, Aemi. Zad’s helmet really did smell like coagulated shaving cream as he rubbed the back of it with an awkward hand while Zaia addressed the invitation situation. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Heck, in five minutes I might just puke.

In less than a minute the one known as Iron Hippobull revealed himself, and suddenly Zad had doubts about being in command of his clan.
So…I was just the lieutenant? Corran Velt would have something to say about this lack of promotion, that was for sure.

The Ranger was tall for an old man, taller than many Humans, which meant that the clan commander, or whoever he was, was pretty darn tall for a buckethead.

Exchanging a shrug with Zaia, Zad would glance and follow her in. They ended up following each other into one of those awkward shoulder-bump-at-the-doorway positions, got stuck and had further difficulty trying to squeeze one another through and nito the room.

“I said, push not pull!” Zad called across the doorway. “Shift to the left! No! The other left!”

“Oh for kriffsake.”
The Iron Bullhip freed Zaia first, naturally, as Zad straightened his suit and sat on a violet velvet pillow.
Awkwardly, there were no chairs of any kind, and instead of whiskey only wine.

“So, did you bring it?”
Zad watched Zaia for an answer. Then he realized everyone was watching him for one.
“Huh? Oh. Ahem. Yes, I...brought it.”

"Well?" Iron Bullshin looked left, looked right, looked confused, sipped purple wine and nibbled on a black biscuit. “Where is it?”

Kark.


@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

“I thought you meant your left!” Zaia changed direction, but before they could see whether that worked or not, Iron Hipbull had already grabbed her arm and pulled her though like a child.

“Thanks,” she muttered, shooting the man an irritated look through her visor. Fortunately he wasn’t able to see it, because she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be in Zad’s position for his next question. Bring what? Uh oh. Might as well improvise something— it had worked to get in, at least.

“We have it… right here.” Zaia handed him the invitation. “See? We weren’t lying!” The giant hippo stared at her as if she had two heads, then let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know you have an invitation. Useless fools. Where is my money?” He looked at Zaia, then back at Zad. Seeing that neither had an answer, he clenched his fist and Zaia could feel the glare from behind his visor.

“Don’t tell me they ‘forgot’ to give it to you. Again! When will the Daggers learn that kriffing beskar isn’t free, damn it! Karkin’ Yautkans. Think they’re entitled to everything.” Iron Bull slammed a fist on a table, and Zaia couldn’t help glancing at Zad. What were the Daggers doing with beskar? And what did this have to do with Yautkans?

“New assignment, for both of you, to make up for the last. I want you to go to Endor and get my beskar, and get my money. Fail me again, and the Hipbull will have your heads.” Despite the name and addressing himself in third person, he sounded serious this time, and Zaia quickly nodded.

“Sir, yes si—”

“Get out of my sight.” With that, Zaia would hastily make her exit, making sure not to get stuck in the door again.

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

As Zaia helped Zad he could only sit with a bead of sweat sliding down his cheek, glad it was unnoticeable, hoping that expired invitation might have come with some kind of code imprinted on it.

Fortunately the Iron Giant seemed rather oblivious to stupid people.
Kiss the dirt do we need to take some roleplaying lessons!

Zad forgave himself at least. He was no undercover cop. He was the cop who covers criminals with cuffs or, failing the cuffs, blaster bolts. And sometimes I got no cuffs.

All these thoughts went the way of the hippo as the Hippo Commander spilled the beans and there’s your Daggers. Karkin’ right.

Zad had no idea what any of this had to do with Yautkans but he hoped he wouldn’t find out the hard way, also that the Yautkan wasn’t the one with the beskar.

“Wilco, capt—”

“Get out of my sight.”

No real love lost there, Zad stepped toward the doorway, stepped back, let the lady go in front of the man.
Down the hallway, the Ranger turned to the Mandalorian.

“I got a good feeling about this,” he bumped his own fists that time, gloves against the knuckles, ready to swing. “Then again…Hippos, Ewoks and Yautkans…oh my.”

In the cockpit, Zad’s comlink went off or, rather, his other comlink that was hiding in a Mandalorian’s pocket this whole time.
Zad had almost entirely forgotten that he had never taken the suit off.

A voice came in, sounded upset, got put on speaker.

“WHO THE KRIFF IS THIS?”

Whatever people said about Zad Ruzed, well, this wasn’t the Ranger’s first rodeo when it came to dealing with an aggravated citizen on the other end of a comlink.

Zad gave Zaia a look suggesting that there wasn’t much else to do on their way to Endor. He couldn’t exactly turn back to return the suit, not yet anyway.

“Uhhh…who is this?”

“I’M THE GUY WHO OWNS THE SUIT YOU’RE IN YA DI’KUT”

“...Suit as in dress suit or suit as in bathing suit?”

“OHOHO THAT’S REAL RICH, TELEPHONE TOUGH GUY OVER HERE, REAL RICH”

“How do you know I have your suit, sir?”

“BECAUSE I LEFT MY COMLINK IN. THE KRIFFING. POCKET.”

“Been having problems with pockets lately, can you describe which one?”

“MY VODFATHER GAVE ME THAT SUIT AFTER DYING IN IT YA JERK”

“Could you at least try to describe the color of the suit, ma’am?”

“KRIFF YOUR GRANDMOTHER”

“Please, this will better help me identify the technical issue.”

“I KILLED MY FIRST CHEVIN WHEN I WAS A FARKLING FOUNDLING”

“Maybe pinkish…maybe purplish?”

“AND NOW I’M NAKED”

“Wait, why are you naked?”

“BECAUSE, DRUKFACE, CLAN HIPPO’S CREED SAYS EITHER I WEAR THE BREASTPLATE OR I WEAR THE NIPPLES BENEATH IT”

“...”

“NOBODY LIKES NIPPLES ON A BREASTPLATE”

“…”

“IF I AIN’T A MANDALORIAN THEN I AIN’T A MAN”

“...”

“AND IF I AIN’T A MAN THEN I AIN’T…Hello?”

“...”

“I know you’re there, short shebs! I can hear you gigglin! The woman too! Couple of karking NERF-KRIFFERS”

“...”

“!!??

“What are your thoughts on hippos?”

“SDKFBSKJDBF”

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

“I think we did great!” Zaia commented with a grin. However unorthodox their methods, they’d gotten the information they’d needed. Soon they were on their way to Endor, and Zaia wondered what fighting a Yautkan in beskar would be like.

Then Zad got a call, and she almost felt bad when he told them about his vodfather.

“...Kriff. That’s rough, buddy.” But then he went on about hippos and being naked, and at that point she just couldn’t take him seriously anymore and burst out laughing along with Zad.

Soon enough, they’d arrived in the atmosphere of Endor, the coordinates matching the ones Iron Hipbull had given them. The strange thing was, when they landed, the only thing she could see was a giant cloud of smoke. Through it was a bunker, but the doors were tightly shut.

“I… think there might’ve been an accident,” Zaia said as she surveyed the base. Or what remained of it. It was eerily quiet too, so quiet that one would even be able to hear the soft flapping of a butterfly’s wings. If there were any.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” She tried her luck calling out to the woods, but no one responded. “Hello?” Only her voice echoed back, and she glanced at Zad. Something was very wrong here.

“Um… you’ve investigated stuff before, right? Any idea where to start?”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

The purple black Mandalorian bathing suit that belonged to Clan Hippo was too tight on the pits and definitely too tight on the crotch.
Instead, the Ranger covered his nipples with a black leather coat that stood out like a sore thumb in a forest on Endor.

Zad didn’t respond to Zaia straight away, flicking ash from a cigarette as he surveyed the crime scene, or whatever it was.

“These doors ain’t shut, pardner.”
He banged a fist on the metal.
“They’re broke.”
It was an appropriate device that confirmed it.
“Something’s collapsed behind them, whole bunker I reckon. Place is blown to Mandalore come…by a bomb or maybe a misplaced flame that set off one drukload of a chain reaction… Not sure if this was recent or some time ago.”

The Ranger blew smoke.
“Accident or not, these doors have Daggers scratched all over them, but we’d need another way in.”
They could find one later.

Zad turned away, looked into the distance, could not peer through the trees.
Smoke did drift past the bunker but it was not coming from it.
The bunker was between the duo’s landing site and wherever that smoke was coming from.

“Let’s go. Have to double back anyway.”
They left, followed the trail, but were stopped halfway.

“Are those…” Zad had his pistol out now as it pointed into the trees.
He walked up to a tree, squinted at the hides wrapped around the branches.
An old Ranger's eyes were not what they used to be.
There were no bones but the hides were red, but the hides were not of bears.
“...Ewoks…”

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

Just to be certain, Zaia gave the metal door a tap too, spotting the fried control panel next to it. It really is broken. Had Iron Hipbull sent others here before them? She looked around, didn’t find any Mandalorian bodies. That seemed unlikely. As deadly as the bucketheads were, surely there would have been at least one.

She followed Zad past the bunker and to the place of furry trees. She squinted, used her HUD to be sure.

“Ewoks, alright,” she confirmed, switching it off. “I wonder what happened.” But as they moved on, she could soon hear what they’d just seen— living, breathing versions of the hides on the tree.

“Do you hear that?” The Mandalorian took off her helmet. “They sound like they’re… celebrating.” But what? She was curious, and peered past the next ridge. Even without the technology, she could see a fire burning. That was where at least some of the smoke was coming from.

“Kay-den! Cher-riss!” They were chanting, parading around a strange object that had an uncanny similarity to a head of a Yautkan.

“That’s… odd.”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Zad wondered the same thing. What kinda creature skins a bunch of Ewoks and leaves ‘em for the sun?
Whatever monster was out there, the Ranger’s blaster would make sure that he kept his skin right where it was.

“I hear it.”
It sounded like singing and tapping at the same time. Taking a closer look, Zad discovered it to be a kind of strange chattering of the teeth.

The Ranger had shaken hands with Ewoks before, had a few furry friends, but he had never seen Ewoks quite like this before.

His gaze drifted from the great bonfire to the Yautkan’s head above it, then to a kettle surrounded by severed limbs.
“Ohhhh that’ can't be good.”

“Kay-den! Cher-riss!”

An Ewok with a skull atop its skull then began giving his tribesmen some kind of ritual fistbump. By this point, Zad had given up trying to make sense of anything.

“Look,” he took a breath. “I don’t know what the druk is going on here, my Ewokese is a little rusty so no idea what "kay den cheriss" means, maybe "eat the head", but I am not ending up in that ket—"

-PHWOOM!-

Something flew from one end of Zad’s world to the other just then, something fast, something blue. It was not your everyday blaster bolt.

In an instant, the Yautkan’s head had plummeted from whatever held it up to the fire below, where it disappeared.

Something howled, or was it roared, Zad wasn’t sure, just remembered what a Yautkan sounded like, and it sounded pretty much like that.

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

The grotesque ritual, or party or whatever it was, going on in front of them was promptly cut short when a blazing blue blaster bolt zipped by and knocked the head off and into the fire. Something roared, Zaia twisted around, saw a beskar-armored creature that could only be a Yautkan.

“Kark.”

However, while his eyes did briefly skim over her and Zad, he didn’t attack them. Instead, he went straight past, firing into the crowd of Ewoks and howled again. Needless to say, it was utter chaos from there. Ewoks went every this way and that, scattering like a carton of beads when dropped from a desk, screaming, yelling.

One such Ewok found himself right in front of Zad, and was promptly put down by a blaster bolt that came from somewhere up ahead. When she looked, it seemed as if the Yautkan had simply disappeared.

“I think we’ve found our skinner.” Even if the Yautkan wasn’t attacking them, Zaia couldn’t just stand here and watch as all the Ewoks were massacred. She took out her pistols, looked around for the Yautkan, but couldn’t see anything until—

“He’s over there!” A head of an Ewok flew out of a bush, and the Mandalorian fired in that very spot, hoping to strike a hit.

@Die Shize