Unearthing Destiny

[Aeron Mathis]

Unearthing

Destiny

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The Mercenary stared out over the dune sea of Tatooine. The breeze gently embraced Aeron as he stepped to the bow of the luxury yacht he’d been commissioned to guard. His eyes systematically scanned the horizon for any sign of danger and to his chagrin, there was none to be found.

This was his third guard job. His two missions prior to this one were incredibly boring and unsettlingly familiar to his life back on Loovira. Now, of course, he was armed in weapons he’d bought for himself and he’d chosen to take this job to fund a little errand all his own on the planet once it wrapped. All he had to do was bide his time and play nice with his employers.

“Mathis!” Barked a gruff Duro, Aeron about-faced and stood at attention as the other man approached. Gendrick's face had been marred by shrapnel when he was young and his attitude was as appealing as the torn and scarred flesh that spider-webbed across his face. They'd worked together on another job and Aeron's opinion of the man hadn't improved since their last meeting.

"Sir," Aeron answered.

Gendrick crossed his arms over his chest, "And just what in the seven hells do you think you're doing?"

Aeron cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at his superior officer. They were mercenaries, not a militia. The Duro had been pushing it the past three days and while Aeron was a patient man, but he wasn't keen to Gendrick's overly authoritative attitude. He forced himself to bite back a smart alec retort and said, "Patrolling the starboard side from bow to aft, sir. As you requested."

"I'm watching you, Mathis. I don't trust you." Gendrick's tone was gravelly and uninspired. Aeron returned his "superior" officer's statement with an awkward tight-lipped smile. Prompting the Duro to scowl and walk away. This type of behavior had become consistent over the mission's stint and Aeron was very ready to be rid of the annoying self-important Duro. Luckily for Aeron, there was a treat at the end of this mission. He had a meeting with a Deucalian specialist in a seedy cantina in Mos Eisley. He hoped his lead wasn't a bust...

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Spoiler: Theme

"BRENNANDI RASSGAT SVARTUR!"

Uhtred yelled out as he slammed his head onto his table, but honestly, he could barely hear his own voice over the commotion and music. The Deucalian had been in his fair share of diverse places across the galaxy. He'd been to barren worlds, jungle worlds, and of course, worlds frozen inside and out. And yes, he'd been to arid worlds before, too. But stars above save him—this Tatooine was a cesspit-if he'd ever seen one. The same. Kriffing. Music. Playing over, and over, and over again. It was enough to numb his mind into insanity. Oh, and the smell. Like a cross between something dead and-dying. How this planet, or at least the Mos Eisley Cantina, had managed it was borderline miraculous. And that wasn't even getting to the most unbearable aspect of it all; the heat.

Oh Sáldœm save him, the karking heat-on this Force-forsaken planet. It was almost unreal to Uhtred. Whether he had his helmet on or not, it never made a difference. It was like the heat of the desert air powered through his armor's conditioning system, just more hot air blowing on him, so he had just opted to keep the thing off. How anyone-could stand living on this dustball was beyond Uhtred's comprehension... but then, more than a few have said the same of Deucalians before, and their preference from frozen worlds. So Uhtred supposed that it was a 'to each their own' matter. But still... if he never came back to Tatooine again, it'd be far, far too soon.

"Sorry for the wait sir, here's your order" one of the servers said, raising his eyebrow at the empty mugs already on the table. "Uh... sir, perhaps you've had en-"

"Leave the damned tray, rassgat", Uhtred said, barely turning his head to face the server with a glare, although he never lifted his head off the table.

Uhtred knew the server wouldn't have recognized Deucalic, but the server still sneered, recognizing an insult when he heard it.

"Pee bagn, kungbioo", the server said, leaving the tray abruptly as he walked off. Uhtred's understanding of Huttese had progressed tremendously since he first left home years ago; he knew exactly what the server had said, but didn't even have the energy to violently complain about it. It was just too damned hot, but his contact still hadn't arrived. Uhtred was supposed to meet someone here, but time moved so karking slow in this place, he couldn't help but wonder just how much longer it'd be until the man would arrive...

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

The yacht safely pulled into the station in Mos Eisley and Aeron was elated to be rid of his current company. The rest of the mission had been as enthralling as watching paint dry, and he was chomping at the bit to get to his next engagement. As he was stepping off the yacht the voice of his client's secretary caught him off guard.

"Mr. Mathis, please hold," she said, and instinctively he froze. Obedience was hard to shake off when it was ingrained into one's very being. He sighed impatiently and turned to face her standing at attention as she stepped down the ramp.

"Thank you for stopping, I'm sorry to bother you, but my employer has taken a bit of a liking to you." She smiled politely, but it didn't make him feel any less anxious. In Aeron's experience when someone was interested in you it meant they wanted something...

Deciding he needed to shut this conversation down quickly he said, "It was a pleasure to serve. If your mast-er, boss would like to inquire about further employment, I'm happy to oblige, but currently, I'm late for another meeting. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The secretary wasn't fazed and pressed on as if he'd not said anything. "Of course, that's actually why I'm here. He has another job for you specifically, the pay is substantial, but the mission is, how do I say this, very dangerous." Aeron cocked his head interested.

"Is that so, I'm listening,' he responded.

Her demeanor relaxed and her smile broadened. "I'm glad to hear that. We'll be in touch," she bowed her head and turned on her heels heading back up the ramp.

Aeron watched her go and wondered what exactly he'd just gotten himself into, but he quickly pushed that from his mind and refocused on the matter at hand: He had a specialist to meet. He looked at his personav and made his way into the notorious city. Mos Eisley was a known den of nefarious characters, but in its infamy, it carried a charm that The Mercenary appreciated. Rounding a corner he spotted his target.

Aeron stepped into the Mos Eisley cantina scanning the patrons as he did so. One being stood out. A man about his age with long brown hair. The man oozed an air of warrior and seemed to be impatiently awaiting someone. Mathis decided to take a chance and approached the individual.

"Sorry to bother you, I'm looking for a Deucalian expert, would you happen to be Uhtred Wardruna?" Aeron asked.

Hopefully, he hadn't just made a fool of himself...

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uhtred's head was hanging downwards with his hands folded over his brow. There was literally no way to feel comfortable or cooled on this planet, and the Deucalian had resigned himself to just simmering like meat on the barb. In fact, things had gotten so miserable for him that when he finally heard a voice that spoke his name, he almost didn't even register the words.

Glancing up, Uhtred caught sight of an armored figure that fit the description of his contact. Uhtred had initially intended to speak then, but the air in his lungs felt stale, exhausted, and so he sighed deeply, as if just coming up for air from the sea.

"I am he", Uhtred said, standing up as he extended his forearm in greeting. Personally, he'd never have considered himself an 'expert', but simply a local. But then, who better to know a people than one of-those people. "And so you must be Mathis, Aeron. I honestly wondered what could have drawn anyone to choose this dungheap of a planet of all places to meet, but given the time I've now spent here, I'm not certain I even want to know."

Providing that Aeron had taken his greeting, Uhtred sat back down and attempted to tune out the incessant, repetitive music blaring from the cantina's band.

"I understand you're on the lookout for a particular planet, correct?", Uhtred said glibly. In truth, he was just happy to have a distraction from Tatooine now. And besides, this was an endeavor worth being excited about.

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron grasped Uhtred's forearm in the same embraces he'd received a hundred times before, from his brothers on the sands. A small smile colored his expression.

"Aeron Mathis I am," he agreed. Aeron noted that the man before him looked less like a scholar and more like a mercenary, but if he had the info he claimed it wouldn't matter. Aeron could feel how close he was to finally getting on the right track. Mathis smiled and gestured at his gear, "Guard duty and the pursuit of knowledge."

The Mercenary took a seat across from his contract and took a quick survey of their surrounding patrons, several of which had taken interest in their conversation. He brought his attention back to the matter at hand, and answered Uhtred's question, "I'm looking for Deucalia. How much to get me started?"

Aeron wasn't trying to be rude, his entire purpose was to figure out who he was. This was the first step to obtaining that goal. He just hoped this guy was authentic...

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

He was direct. Uhtred liked that. Negotiations were a necessary reality, but Uhtred was never adept at diplomacy, nor did he feel that the endless double-speak and words that veiled in hidden meaning actually contributed to anything except a mental exercise for self-proclaimed 'enlightened intellectuals'.

"Getting started is the easy part, brother", Uhtred said, leaning back in his chair as he reached into a pouch on his belt. "It's the way there that can damn you."

Uhtred placed a datapad on the center of the table, and set it up to function as a small holoprojector. After punching in some information, the holoprojector activated and displayed a region of the Outer Rim. However, in one part of the map, there was a dark, empty blotch. It would appear to be some kind of glitch or error of some sort, but Uhtred then set the datapad to hone in on the dark area.

"You see, I'd been looking for Deucalia too. It was actually rediscovered several centuries ago, but certain... events, led to its abandonment. I led an expedition back on Hoth a while back, and it's taken time to decrypt the information, but I have it", Uhtred said, pulling out a small cartridge and plugging it into the datapad.

A streak appeared in the starmap, which led from the datapad's current location on Tatooine into the pitch-black region of space.

"They called it Sáldœm Path. A hyperspace route that was blazed to Deucalia five centuries ago... and it leads directly into the Void Sea", Uhtred said, explaining what the dark region of the starmap was, assuming Aeron hadn't recognized it on his own already.

"No one sane treks deep into the Void Sea. And only the worst of pirates and scum trespass around its outer regions. Even with a map telling us how to get there, there's no telling what, or who we might run into along the way", Uhtred said, knowing full well that the Fangs of Haal Gra'avagr have set up an outpost somewhere along the outskirts of the Void Sea. "For more reasons than one, this might not be a trip someone can walk away from alive. So, I mean to ask you plainly; do you still want to find Deucalia?"

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Uhtred began revealing details Aeron had only read in dusty tomes like they were common knowledge. For the first time in over a year he'd finally found something he never thought he'd experience: Hope. Aeron's broody expression lightened as he listened to the man's story.

Sáldœm Path. A smile broke out across his face. Every fiber of his body wanted to leap up from the table and make for his ship. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Morgan and under the table flashed their signel.

All good.

Uhtred's tone became serious as he began to lay out the trials before them, but all Aeron could do was smile.

"Warnings won't deter me. I will find Deucalia, I have to," he replied to the man before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one patron look away quickly and then whisper to another. Something was off. Hand still under the table, but unsure if Morgan were still watching he signaled: Alert.

To Uhtred he said, "My friend, I think we should give out attention to the present. Apparently, we have gained a fair amount of attention."

The Rodian he'd caught earlier had shifted his chair and Aeron could see the glint of durasteel, this was about to get ugly.

@Korvo @Pontus

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uhtred grinned in approval of Aeron's affirmation to take action for his aspiration. [*]

"Now that is what I like to hear", Uhtred said, embracing a laugh that had build up inside of him. There was still ale on the table, and Uhtred took a last, big swig, just for the pleasure of it. He was thirsty, too, but this was Tatooine. He would always be thirsty here; it's a karking desert.


Uhtred didn't notice any signaling of Aeron's, but he was brought to attention as Aeron's observation of the other patrons around him drew alarm. "We'd probably have been better off speaking in Deucalic. Too late now. Any idea what is drawing their attention?", he remarked, sighing as he gently and discretely placed his hand near to the blaster on his side.

"Don't suppose you know of a good distraction that can be made, do you?", Uhtred asked, keeping his eyes on the others around them. He noticed the struggling Rodian as well; it was entirely possible that it was the most base motivation of all; greed. There was plenty going on, and all of it bad. Brawling is one thing, but a crowded cantina was no one's best battleground.

@Zay @Pontus

 

[M. Arcas]

'... A bloody desert.' - the fair-haired man cursed in his thoughts. Sand was absolutely everywhere, and though probably cleaner, the air was by no means easier to breathe than Nar Shaddaa's. He'd come here literally with some dude he'd met at a bar who, despite not being much of a talker, had somehow managed to convince him that a path of adventure and coin was there for the taking.

So far he'd put up with some yacht guard duty, and now a desert's blistering heat. It was true that this dark-haired man had saved his hide once, but Arcas was beginning to think this was a bust. Still, a debt was a debt, and it needed to be seen through to the end.

At least the meetup happened in a cantina. Aeron had managed to meet with this famed Due-something guy, and the two had gotten to talking. The other guy didn't look like much of an expert, though. He looked well built, and had the face of someone who might just pick a fight or start yelling for booze. Not to mention, he seemed to find the heat less bearable than even Morgan himself did. Now the Corellian-born wondered if he shouldn't have gone to meet this dewey-decimal guy instead. He did seem like his kind of people, after all.

Still, not everything on Aeron's side was sunshines and rainbows either, it looked like. He'd spotted some green bloke squirming in his seat, practically staring holes into the chatting duo. And, sure enough, he hadn't been the only one who noticed. Aeron had sounded what had felt like the alert so - finally - it was show-time.

And a show, was what he did best. Calmly picking up his drink off of the counter, Morgan took a couple of nice, long, confident strides, then swaggered a little to one side, then the other, left foot-over-right and bam. "Soh-rree, mayte... I-i-i di-un't see-u ther. I jus- ... It just-..." - Morgan said, having practically railroaded the Rodian in question and covered him in about half-a-mug's worth of ale. An honest man's 'accident', of course. The fact that the alien, who was much smaller than him, was caught unaware and practically swept off his feet, well... the big man had clearly had too much to drink. I mean. It happens to the best of us. Right?

... It was a little strange, how easy this came to him. But he'd always been able to do it. By now, he must've pulled this whole 'I've done it again, haven't I? I'm so drunk' song and dance dozens of times... you'd think it'd have lost its fun. And you'd be wrong. He loved every second of it, every time he did it. Not as much as he did being actually drunk, but hey. Sometimes, you just have to take what you can get.

"You'rright? I-i fink I've jus-'aah f-hew too many ma'ee, dj-naah-mee?" - he now slapped the Rodian's clothes haphazardly, 'trying' to pat the stains out, before giving up just as quickly as his face lit up in a 'eureka' moment - "Cah-mon. I'll buy-u anova-won. I mea- it's the leasht I-cn do."

He was rowdy, he was loud, and he was clumsy. The die had been cast. Now, to wait and see what came of it.
@Zay @Korvo

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron smiled as Morgan went into action. To Uhtred he said, "I think I know of one," he nodded to the seemingly drunken bloke bobbling around and practically accosting the Rodian who'd been spying on their conversation.

Aeron's expression became stoney as he asked, "I'm a mercenary, I wouldn't say I've got a lot of friends out there, but my jobs mostly consist of guard work so I don't really see a reason why someone would be following me, but a member of a displaced culture with information on a long forgotten planet... Now, there's someone to chase."

The Gladiator watched the man across the table from him with no expression. This could be a coincidence, but Aeron doubted it. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me before we continue?"

The bar was starting to get tense. Morgan was doing a marvelous job of distracting the Rodain who kept attempting to brush him off in clipped rodese. Aeron spotted two others who'd abandoned their inconspicuous positions and were starting toward the Rodain. Things were about to get crazy and Aeron wasn't going to allow his partner to be overrun. Throwing caution to the wind he spat out in broken Deucalic, "ᛈᚱᛟᚡᛖ ᚤᛟᚢᚱ ᛒᛚᛟᛟᛞ!"

Directly from there he stood and rounded on a weequay that moved to intercept Morgan. His fist slammed into being's ribs and was followed by a practiced one-two combo that sent the being stumbling backward into another group of patrons. The collision lead to an immediate explosion of flying bottles and fits.

Over the commotion, Aeron barked, "Morgan, we move!" Glancing in Uhtred's direction Aeron smiled and jerked his head toward the exit. The gesture was a challenge as if to say, keep up if you can. Before he made for the door. A few seconds later he was out of the chaos and into the Alley just outside the bar. He would wait for both men, but if Morgan got out first they wouldn't wait long for Uhtred.

@Korvo @Pontus

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uhtred rose his eyebrow as a fair-haired drunkard stumbled onto the premises, somewhat bombastically, at that. It was a convenience, to be sure, and Uhtred couldn't help but narrow his eyes in interest, shifting his gaze back and forth between the drunk and Aeron.

"How cynical of you", Uhtred said, in response to Aeron's analysis. "And more importantly, perhaps it is truth. After all, thing is only valuable when others deem-it to be of value."

It was about that time that the drunkard started smacking the wary Rodian's clothing, for one reason of another that Uhtred hadn't known. However, it was entertaining enough that the Deucalian Battle Master couldn't help but chuckle at. It was also sad, in a way; hours on the cesspit of Tatooine, and this-was really the best entertainment he's seen all day.

But when Aeron shouted in Deucalic, Uhtred snapped right out of it.

A gruff, almost weary-looking Mirialan was among the two that had started over to the Rodian's position. Almost immediately, the Mirialan had visually reacted to Aeron's attack on the Weequay, but before he could respond, Uhtred struck harshly into the being's throat with the side of his fist, having approached the Mirialan as if to pass him by.

"Fate is not so kind to you today, is it?", Uhtred asked sarcastically to the gagging and choking Mirialan, following up his initial strike with a kov'nyn, what his father called the 'Keldabe Kiss'. Uhtred didn't have his helmet on at the time, but it would still have sufficed. Besides... there was something uniquely exhilarating about striking bone against bone that the protection of a helmet just didn't deliver.

Must be the Deucalian in him.

Grabbing his helmet, Uhtred fastened it and switched his gaze back to Aeron, who was beckoning him out the exit. Maybe it wasn't much of one, but they already had their plan. And thank Hrothgar's light, that was good enough for him. Uhtred raced for the exit, weaving through the bar-brawl that had been instigated, as much as he might have otherwise relished in the fun.

"ᛋᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚴᚾᛟᚹ ᛏᚺᚨᛏ ᛟᚾᛖ, ᛞᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ?", Uhtred said energetically, noticing that Aeron had called whom Uhtred had presumed was the conspicuous drunkard from earlier, Morgan. "ᚤᛟᚢ ᛋᛖᛖᚴ ᛞᛖᚢᚲᚨᛚᛁᚨ, ᛁ ᚺᚨᛞ ᚨᛋᛋᚢᛗᛖᛞ ᚤᛟᚢᚱ ᛒᛚᛟᛟᛞ ᚹᚨᛋ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚨᛗᛖ ᚨᛋ ᛗᛁᚾᛖ. ᛁᛋ ᚺᛖ ᚨᛚᛋᛟ ᛟᚾᛖ ᛟᚠ ᚢᛋ?", Uhtred asked, regarding the one called 'Morgan'.

@Zay @Pontus

 

[M. Arcas]

In the blink of an eye, the two individuals he had come here with or to find, had punched some random in the ribs and headbutted another, leaving the Corellian-born that maybe, just maybe the journey here wasn't a bust after all. Still, despite being the tallest member of the trio, Morgan was also the least confident in his close quarters capabilities. So, when he'd heard Aeron shout his name and book it to the exit, he was a little taken aback, not unlike everyone else.

The Rodian in particular, suspecting nothing, now frantically looked around in search of this 'Morgan' fellow that he hadn't expected. "I think your friends are looking for you." - the Rodian heard the tall, fair-haired fellow say, in a distinct Corellian accent, devoid of its previously drunken tinge. When the alien raised his head to inspect the individual he'd before then been trying to ignore, he was faced with the Mercenary pointing to the duo he had been spying on while smiling from ear to ear. He then immediately understood and attempted to back away. Sadly, he wasn't swift enough, and was promptly greeted by a knee to the groin.

A hint of guilt rushed through Arcas's soul as he saw the poor green bastard winging and slowly collapsing onto the ground: and who could blame him. He had, after all, railroaded him, drenched him in ale, and then hit him in the twins for good measure... Still, the sneaky little devil had none to blame but himself for having gotten beaten at his own game. But all that these thoughts were put on hold just as swiftly as they'd emerged. Right now, fleeing was of the utmost import, considering what might happen if he'd stayed after the his two compatriots had left had left.

If looks could kill, this would be another story, but thankfully, angry stares seemed to be the extent of it. While a fight was certain to break out, Morgan was out of the door long before drunken anger reached enough of a level for fists to start flying. In a flash, he had caught up to the two dark-haired individuals speaking in gobbledygook.

"We've passed up a bar brawl for this, which means you've got something?" - he inquired curiously, before his brow furrowed and his gaze shifted from dark-haired Deucalian to dark-haired Deucalian, until he came to a realisation: "Bit of a shot in the dark here, but I'm just going to assume that me not understanding a word of this conversation means you two are getting along."

One eyebrow was now raised higher than the other, his eyes squinted ever so slightly and his head tilted to one side, as Arcas conspicuously tried to read the two's posture and figure out if his supposition had been correct or if he'd tactlessly put his foot in it, having just blurted his thoughts out loud without any real consideration. If he had, it'd be too late to do anything about it, but hey. Learning's good, right? ... right?
@Korvo @Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron let a bark of laughter escape his lips as Morgan approached a little confused, but hopeful. Aeron nodded confirming the rogue's assumption and then to Uhtred said, "I'm sorry friend, but my knowledge is of our tongue is broken at best," Aeron gestured toward Morgan and nodded his head to Uhtred's question, "This is Morgan, he's reluctantly along for this little adventure."

Aeron shot the big guy a grin as the sound of bottles breaking caught his attention. The excitement inside had clearly ruptured and a full-on bar brawl had broken out. He looked back to his two companions and smiled, "We may have missed out on the fun," he said jerking a thumb toward the rowdy bar, "--but we're one step closer to finding Deucalia. I have more than enough drink on my ship to celebrate, shall we?"

There was a lot to unpack from this meeting. Aeron couldn't put his finger on it, but he had a feeling that this meeting was meant to be. On their way back to his ship he received a job listing on his datapad. It was from the woman who'd stopped him as he'd exited the Luxury yacht. The subject line read, Escort Mission.

Aeron smiled, "Uhtred, you said the path to Deucalia was dangerous, no? Well, I have a job that might make the passage easier. You interested in a job?"

He could sense Morgan bristling and before he could protest Aeron added, "Yes, Mogan, the pay is substantial."

End​

@Korvo @Pontus