Ask Wolves Among Sheep

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale found events like these strange, and she was happy she didn’t have to participate. She had the option of going undercover, but she still wasn’t comfortable being out of armor. Especially around outsiders. ISB had received intelligence that a diplomat here was the favorite for the next planetary governor of Ord Radama. The Empire wanted to curry favor with the man and offered the most elite protection available.

There were intelligence reports that Sith activity had been detected and the desire to assassinate the diplomat. This man's competitor was working with Sith. The Empire couldn’t spare a lot of soldiers, so they sent Shale. The Mando thought she was signing up for an exhilarating mission only to find it was glorified bodyguard duty. She accompanied the governor wherever he went. Thankfully, she could slip into the persona of the stoic and rigid warrior that didn’t say a word and stared intently. It couldn’t be further from who she was under the armor, but it spared her the obligations of laughing at his terrible jokes or putting up with cringey flirting.

The event in question was a grand charity ball. There were high society people from all corners of the planet coming out for this. For all she knew, one of them could be a Sith. However, her presence in full armor was to intimdate and deter anyone from trying anything stupid. Even Sith had cause to fear Mandos. Especially one that finally had her jetpack fixed.

For now, Shale had her arms crossed, leaning against a wall near the snacks. She eyed all the guests, bored beyond belief. The music was dull and she felt entirely out of place. Stifling a yawn, she checked her chrono. Only a few more hours till the event was done.

Her comlink buzzed. She answered it discreetly through her helmet, informed that another Imperial was assigned and en route for the mission. She knew about this beforehand, though it didn’t list any names. Apparently the soldier had past dealings with Sith and qualified for this op. Shale thought nothing of it, wondering if the Imperial would arrive in armor or disguise. She didn’t care either way as long as the night progressed without incident.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max was doing good.

You did not just get over losing your arm. It could destroy a man and given everything else he had lost in recent times, it really should have finished him. The pain and trauma of several weeks rehab had made him wish it had once or twice.

But he was through that now and the curious sensation of his new limb was not an altogether bad vibe. The bonded durasteel arm beneath his sleeve was sleek, strong and powerful. The join around his shoulder itched a little, crazily so in the night, but he was getting used to it. Used to the itch, and used to having part of him even stronger than before. He could get a taste for being more than a man.

Max sidled into the main ballroom, picking up a drink and keeping to the periphery. He had been cleared for active duty again for a little while now, but this was his first proper assignment back in the ring. Working protection was not what he was used to, but nothing was these days.

The Corporal was dressed in a sharp tux, the clean lines looking well on his broad frame. Rehab had been hard work, but it showed, even through the stab vest beneath his shirt. His reflection in the mirrored bar look almost like the officer he remembered. Only his dark gloves were a touch out of place, concealing the metal fingers of his left hand with the appearance of eccentric fashion instead.

He was supposed to be the less obvious one tonight, working in concert with a partner he was yet to meet. Anyone paying close attention might realise he was working security, but they would assume for the venue rather than the diplomat.

Stepping around a pillar, he surveyed the ballroom floor for his counterpart and nearly crushed his crystalline flute in surprise. Vizsla was leaning against the wall by the snack table, looking like an armoured statue from completely the wrong exhibit. Everything in here was fine and delicate, but the Mando stood out like a lone mountain on a plain. Of the hundreds, thousands they could have teamed him up with.

Max took a sip of his drink, discretely keying the hidden comlink in his lapel. "I'd ask if you're a nachos or an olives kind of girl" he said quietly, looking right at her across the room "but then I don't think you'll get either through the helmet". He took another drink and tipped the glass in her direction "looks like it's you and me again. You checked the place for zombies?"

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

For a moment Shale honestly wondered if she could get away with napping while standing without anyone noticing. Her job was to appear intimidating and she could accomplish that without staying fully alert. However, with her luck, that would be when some Sith pulled some of their voodoo magic. She yawned beneath the helmet, allowing her gaze to wander. Amidst a sea of older men and women, she spotted the silhouette of an attractive man. His back was turned to her, and she had to admire his nice ass. And then he turned around and it was a miracle she didn’t stumble.

Dram?!

Thanking the stars again for sporting a helmet, she remained silent when he addressed her. He was entirely discreet when he spoke and how he activated his comms, suggesting he had gone undercover many times before. Her mind began to wander on exactly how he was well versed in ‘handling’ Sith, but she wouldn’t give voice to snark.

“At least you enjoying yourself,” She replied quietly. He looked worlds different and she almost didn’t recognize him first. Shale’s visor tilted away to regard the crowd, catching high pitched giggling and older men and women talking about nothing. Mindless, drone-like, “Lots of zombies..” She observed.

Shale finally stepped away from her corner, deciding to do a patrol around the ballroom. She spoke with Dram while still far across from him, “You wear suit better than armor,” She snickered into the comlink, her visor tilting towards him just behind the head of an elderly woman. If Dram looked that way, the woman caught his gaze and waved excitedly.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

He thought he saw her stiffen when she realised it was him, but it was almost impossible to tell. The armour made her incredibly difficult to read.

"Well these ones probably bite too" he replied, concealing a chuckle at her poor view of the ball guests. He did not entirely disagree, but he had moved in not dissimilar circles before his Imperial days. The ancient Houses of Adumar held more than a few balls and he still remembered how to waltz. He could fit in here if needed.

Vizsla seemed to agree. "You haven't seen me in proper armour" he whispered back "but I'll take it. You rock the second skin pretty well yourself". He left out that she got a lot of practice. He had a quiet respect for the Mandos discipline and commitment.

The elderly woman with a theatrical up do was suddenly waving at him flirtatiously, thinking his gaze was directed at her. He smiled warmly but deliberately downed his drink so he could head back towards the table.

A seasoned looking man was making his way down the steps as Max headed up them. Max realised he had seen the face before in the briefing log; the diplomat, Roger Stennar. He was about to quietly introduce himself when Stennar almost lost his footing and Max instinctively reached out to catch him.

"Fucking hell" Stennar growled, mumbling something about cheap carpets. Max smelled strong spirits on his breath. "I'm all good here" the diplomat slurred, pushing the Corporal away "though ask your manager if he can get me a glass of his best".

Stennar went bumbling off before Max could reply. "Heads up" he commed to Vizsla "our man's here but he's drunk as a skunk". Looking after the guy was always going to be a bore, but now Max suspected it was going to be a real ballache.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

“Don’t think I ever will,” Shale quipped back, grinning beneath her helmet. Beskar’gam was the only armor she found up to her standards. Nothing Imperial-made would ever compare, and very few aruetii ever donned Mandalorian armor they had earned. She coughed to stifle that small giggle that almost escaped as she became privy to the exchange between the enthusiastic older woman and Dram. That was perhaps the first time she had seen an actual smile on him and it was a brief shift away from the grind of work.

And then it was right back to it when Roger Stenner theatrically made an appearance. Even from here, she could tell the man was drunk beyond belief, half stumbling into Dram. Shale was less concerned about him and more focused on potential attackers, “Heads up,” She repeated back to Dram as she continued to walk the perimeter, “You babysit. Maybe he want dance,” Shale chuckled a bit at the image.

Shale couldn’t spot anything unusual, her gaze scanning the guests to see if anyone seemed a bit too keen on Stenner.

Meanwhile, the man was absolutely obnoxious. He managed to spill a drink on someone’s dress and was slurring through apologies. He threw an arm around Dram’s shoulder, “My boy, you look far too serious for this party. Come, let’s do some shots,” He guffawed as he began to drag Dram away to do just that.

No one seemed to follow them from where Shale could see, so she kept to herself. Several guests were startled by the sight of her, but no one dared to approach.

The party continued as normal with Stenner pressuring Dram to practically drown in liquor. The dull music went on and the dancing was at least mildly appealing to watch. Laughter and chatter filled the room and it was at least a notable improvement from her usual work.

And then all the power abruptly went out, throwing everyone into pitch darkness…

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max should have guessed Vizsla would have even less time for their drunk charge than him. She did not even break from her monotonous patrol of the room, leaving him to deal with Stennar up close. "If he wants a dance I'll tell him you do a good robot" he said into his comm.

The Corporal had wrongly assumed that all diplomats were, well, diplomatic. If Roger Stennar had it in him to be tactful and measured, he was keeping it quite well hidden. The buffoon was bumping into people at every turn, drinking far too much on top of too much already, making loud pronouncements and outlandish gestures. If any hostiles were looking for him, he was pretty hard to miss.

Max by contrast was trying to slink into the background, but fate was not on his side. Stennar saw him and reached to throw an arm around him, dragging him towards the bar. He had no idea the Adumarian was part of his protection, but he was nonetheless very overfamiliar. Vizsla's dancing quip crossed Max's mind, but he was pretty sure he would not have to deal with flirting here. Stennar was the kind to be into pretty girls or young boys, not big soldier types.

He did have to deal with liquor though, which was an issue. "To Marion Foe's legs!" Max replied, returning the man's toast without any idea who Marion was. He made a show of taking the shot, but barely let it past his lips. He was managing to exploit Stennar's lack of attention to detail most of the time, but occasionally had little choice but to take a sip. He could handle his drink, but on a job like this he could ill afford to be even slightly off his game.

He was taking his time pouring the next drink and listening to Stennar regale him about a colleague when the lights went out. He dropped the bottle immediately, grabbing the diplomat and trying to hurry him along the bar. They needed a fire exit or at the very least their backs against the wall. "Northwest corner, thirty seconds" he breathed to Vizsla, even as Stennar protested loudly at being ushered along. "Unhand me you bandit, is this a set up!".

Then something whooshed past his ear in the darkness, just missing him and a shoulder barged into his own. He threw his arm out instinctively, metal cracking against bone as someone was knocked violently to the floor. He had nearly made the corner and the door he thought he remembered when the lights came back on unexpectedly.

Max froze, trying to act natural despite having moved several paces across the room. A woman in a flowing red dress was lying face down on the patterned carpet, but there was no sign of any obvious attacker. Someone screamed.

He searched furiously for Vizsla. What the fuck was going on here?

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale didn’t respond to Dram because she suddenly felt something constrict her throat. He would hear her gasping for breath and likely work out what was happening. It was an unnatural thing twisted around her neck, nothing physical. She had her blaster in her hand and was leveling it. Within seconds, she was bodily thrown out of the room, the doors closing and the lights coming on in the ballroom.

She coughed and sputtered, eyes watering from the unnatural grip on her throat, “Sith,” She whispered hoarsely into her comlink. She looked up to see a figure dressed as a ballroom guest. It was a woman in a black dress, traces of yellow in her eyes. She smirked at Shale.

“Now Din has Mandos doing his dirty work for him?”

Before she could use the Force, Shale fired a round with her blaster, sending the woman darting to the side to avoid it. Shale didn’t let off, having swapped to jetboots instead of her jetpack for this mission. She activated it in a short burst, instantly closing the distance to slam the woman against a wall.

Meanwhile, the doors closed behind Dram as well. He still had a hold of Stennar who was still protesting and complaining. Standing across from Dram was a man in a suit. He looked from Dram to the diplomat, drawing out a saberhilt and igniting a brilliant, red blade.

“Good work in isolating him” He said to Dram telepathically, "We knew you were still on our side. I can scuff you up so you keep your cover."

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max decided to slip through the door after all, Stennar in tow, but found himself face to face with a far worse scene.

The suited man had a dangerous look about him, even before he ignited the crimson blade. "Mylin's beard, he's a Sith!" the diplomat shouted, scrabbling to escape Max's hold. The Adumarian's eyes had already closed at Vizsla's warning and the realisation they were both in the crosshairs.

The telepathic greeting sent a chill down the Corporal's spine. Still on our side? The work of months was almost undone in a moment in Max's mind. This guy was with the Sith and he thought Max still was too. His old life, in reach again?

But no. His old life had been exposed for the self-deception that it was. Max saw more clearly these days and he was no longer putty in the hands of the Sith.

"He knows some stuff" Max said, calmly, walking slowly towards the Sith and dragging Stennar with him. The man was like a feral animal, shouting and screaming for someone to help. "Please, no, listen here, I can help you, pay you, make you richer than a king! Honestly please, anything!".

"He talks easily, you might want to squeeze him for secrets before you put him down". Max drew within two steps of the Sith and shoved Stennar down between them. The man went to his knees but immediately began leaping up in hysterics.

The suited Sith was momentarily distracted, reaching for the diplomat before he could scurry away. Max seized the opening, kicking out hard at the wrist of the man's saber hand, knocking his weapon from his grip. He went straight in with his new left fist, a durasteel punch to the jaw sending the Sith staggering back. With the saber out the game, he might just have a chance.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale was flagged as the only known threat, so she was especially targeted. Even though she slammed the woman, the Sith unleashed a blast with the Force, sending the Mandalorian flying back. It was then that yet another Sith arrived, this one igniting a saber. He slammed it down at Shale, and she crossed her arms in an X while on her back to catch the blade at the intersection of her beskar plates. She rolled out from underneath, sweeping his leg to make him drop. She shot him with her blaster, getting him in the shoulder as he moved.

That was when she felt a surge of blinding pain shoot through her back. The other Sith had unleashed lightning, the terrible agony going right through armor and searing her back. Shale cried out in pain, her entire body convulsing. She could only roll away, activating her jetboots to abruptly apply distance and throw off the trajectory. Her back was still smoking when she weakly leveled her blaster to shoot at the woman. As the man darted towards her, she released a burst of flames. He cried out in pain, but it only made him angrier, the Force weaving powerfully through him. Shale knew in close quarters like this, she was outmatched.

Meanwhile, the Sith Dram was facing was caught entirely off guard. There was a sick crunch as the punch collided with the jaw, the man bleeding at once. He was completely shocked, and this would likely allow Dram to get the upper hand on him (no pun intended). Dazed, the suited man attempted to call the Force to send Dram flying into the wall.

The Sith’s weapon rolled out of his grip. Which was a good and bad thing because now Stennar thought he would be a hero. The diplomat dove for the weapon, igniting it victoriously.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max felt an almost sickening satisfaction when the punch connected. It had been too long since he had felt the thrill of riding high in combat. He could take this man, he knew it.

He lashed out with another kick, grazing the Sith's ribs. But the guy was not down yet, throwing a hand out at Max with an air of desperation. The air seemed to round on the Corporal and he was hit by an invisble force sending him backwards on his heels.

But again, Stennar came unwittingly to the rescue. He ran towards the Sith from the other side, waiving the sizzling red blade wilding and screaming "down with you, you devil!". The wind died as their attacker turned to try and deal with the diplomat, but the man's drunken courage had him closing with the Sith and catching his body with the blade. The man screamed and went down, but not before knocking Stennar flying with a final blast of power.

Max raced to reach the Sith's body, relieved to find he was indeed down for the count, his chest opened in a deep wound by the tip of the blade. He looted the man for what little he could find; a short vibroblade and a small datapad, currently locked.

He hurried over to Stennar, but the man was halfway up, igniting the blade again and pointing it at Max. "Not so fast, captor!" he yelled, far too victoriously "seemed like you were with that fellow to me". He gestured at the dead Sith with a look of disgust.

"I'm your protection detail" Max said, restraining his exasperation. "I pretended to be with the Sith to get close to him. I helped take him down in case you didn't notice". He took the risk of offering the diplomat a hand up. "Corporal Max Dram, IDF. We need to find my comrade, you'll never make governor if we don't get to her quickly".

Stennar seemed to consider for a long moment, though whether due to high-powered thought or intoxication Max could not say. Finally, the slightly mad look in his eye receded and he turned off the lightsaber.

"Governor you say?"

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Meanwhile, Shale was having a rough time. With two Sith, she knew she couldn’t keep close quarters fighting. However, at the end of the day, she was a Mando and had some tricks up her sleeve. The man attempted to slash at her with his saber, his other arm severely burned from her flamethrower. Shale didn’t give him the chance to find purchase with his attack, activating her boots and flying out a window. The glass shattered and she charged through it and out into the black sky.

Shale pivoted mid-air, flinging two thermal detonators right back through the window and where the two Sith were. They hadn’t even noticed when she skillfully brought them to her grasp and primed them. The Mandalorian remained outside, watching the brief looks of surprise moments before there was an explosion. A flash of orange and red, and she knew both her enemies were torn to bits.

The explosion was big enough to blow the door off and back into the ballroom. By now, most of the guests had run off in a panic, leaving the room mostly empty. The food and drinks were intact and the band huddled in a corner, refusing to leave without payment. A severed hand that belonged to the Sith woman found its way to the middle of the floor in a gruesome display.

There was another crash through a window as Shale made her entrance back into the building and into the ballroom. The cellist, already spooked, fainted on the spot. Shale rolled on the ground and came to a low crouch. She was visibly injured, her armor in between the plates melted on her back. Her body hurt tremendously, but the threat was neutralized.

She slowly got up to stand, scanning for any signs of Dram or Stennar. She half feared their asset was killed in the chaos.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max escorted Stennar back into the ballroom just in time to hear the concussive blast on the far side of the building and feel the rumble echo through the room. The beads on the chandeliers above shuddered and the guests that remained screamed and gasped, running in circles unsure which way to go.

The Adumarian started when one of the floor length windows shattered inwards, grabbing Stennar by the scruff of his neck again. But this time there was no need to run.

It was Vizsla who shot through the window, rolling to a halt on the ballroom floor. To most, she probably looked as intimidating as any other day, but Max could see she was pretty beat up. Some of her poise was gone and her precious armour was damaged and scarred. She had faced at least as bad as them, worse by the looks of it.

"My counterpart" he said quietly to Stenner, hoping the diplomat might be coming down from his high. Sadly, he was far too optimistic.

"A Mand-a-lorian!?" the man exclaimed, as if Max had suggested he was partnered with a sabretooth tiger. Stennar nonethless strode over to Vizsla before she could finish getting her bearings. "You're involved in this as well are you, hmmm? I must say you and this big fellow here are really quite...." he finally seemed to notice Max's narrowed eyes. "unconventional" he finished. "I'm glad to be alive, don't get me wrong" he continued, looking around the destroyed ballroom "but this has all been a terrible mess".

"One you can get the credit for cleaning up, Governor" Max said stiffly "a disgraceful Sith attack on civil society and democracy". There seemed an obvious opportunity to seize the narrative here, even to him. Perhaps politics was not that hard after all.

"Quite..." Stennar agreed, a look of excitement in his eyes "and of course I led the charge. Killed a Sith myself in single combat you know" he raised his eyebrows at Vizsla as if expecting her impassive helmeted face to be astounded.

"With the help of the Empire" Max reminded him, swatting the saber hilt from Stennar's hand "and I heard you tell that Sith you could make him richer than a king. Ensign Vizsla and I are not quite so pricey, but we look forward to our compensation".

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale stared at Stennar as he opened his mouth and stupidity poured out. He and becoming a governor was well above her paygrade, and she was glad it wasn’t her problem. Dram mercifully did all the talking. He had some debris and scruffs on him, suggesting he squared off against Sith as well. Stennar squeaked when the saber was batted out of his hand, and he had the look of a disciplined toddler before a tantrum.

She walked over to the drinks table, finding a bottle of promising whisky. Popping off the top, she lifted a flap from her helmet and took a swig directly from it.

Stennar stared and blinked, marveling at the display, “That’s expensive, top shelf whisky. You’re considering that part of compensation, right?” He asked, but he otherwise appeared to be in good spirits. He clapped his hands and got himself his own drink, waving for the musicians to start playing again. He had paid a lot to host the event and he would get his money’s worth. Even if there was a severed hand in the middle of the floor…

Workers were rushing in to clean up the place and the Imperials were asked to stick around and ensure there were no follow on attacks. Shale’s back hurt quite a bit, but she was used to sporting injuries from the field. Her armor caught most of the damage and she knew she would wince when she looked at it.

“Killed Sith in single combat, eh?” Shale mused as she addressed Dram, taking another swig of the whiskey to kill the pain and also celebrate a successful mission, “Hope wasn’t too hard," She offered him the bottle of whiskey if he wanted.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max was actually encouraged when Vizsla answered Stenner by walking to the drinks table and downing some whisky. Clearly she had not been entirely beaten down by the night's events.

Stennar actually got the entertainment back on track in short order, settling the other guests and giving Max and his counterpart the time to relax and breathe. They had fought a desperate battle for Stennar's life that most of the room had not even seen.

He drifted around to stand next to the Mando, keen to find out what she had faced on her front.

"Our man got lucky" he replied "we had one Sith, I disarmed him and chuffnuts here picked up his saber and started waving it around. Caught both me and the Sith off guard to be fair, though only he got cut open thankfully". He kept one eye on the gregarious Stennar, already moving around the room again like an excitable blimp.

"What happened to you? Are you alright?" He sensed she would not like the concern but it was genuine. She looked like she had been through it.

Max accepted the whisky and took a swig, unbuttoning his jacket but otherwise staying serene for now. Glancing at his sleeves, he realised there was barely a mark on them to reflect all he had been through.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale coughed to suppress laughing at the image of Stennar brandishing a lightsaber. This day just got more and more bizarre. She tilted her head to look at him, “You worry about me, Dram?” She asked, amusement in her tone. Shale didn’t miss him unbuttoning his jacket, clearly getting more comfortable.

“Two Sith,” She said finally, taking the whisky back after he took a swig to throw back her own, “One…did lightning on my back,” Shale said, her mood improving significantly with the whisky, “But they blow up same like anyone,” She shrugged, lifting the bottle to cheers to that.

Shale leaned against the drink table, staring at the musicians that played a lively tune. Her mind wandered to her days of performing at the local bars and digs on Mandalore. She recalled being surrounded by the clans, hearing the lively excitement, and a sea of T-visors staring back at her. All united under one banner. It lasted for a moment, and she was so thankful for having witnessed it in her lifetime however fleeting it was.

“Your arm..” Shale said as she looked at him again, spotting the prosthetic fingers, “Still angry with me for that?” She couldn’t help but ask. They had parted on rather poor terms the last time they worked together, but she would have done it all over again. There was no trusting how quickly the infection spread.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

"I worry about anyone I'm in a fight with" he said, covering himself. Vizsla was a tough cookie. He was not quite ready to admit his worry about her being hurt; she was normally quick to strike if he left himself open.

Two Sith certainly seemed the raw end of the deal, even though it had been him that had to contend with Stennar's antics. "You blew up two Sith? Well now I'm definitely not worried at all". It was yet further proof of what the Warmaster had told him; the Sith went down as easy as anyone else if you knew how. He had nearly bested his own in a fist fight, but the Mando had faced down two and overcome lightning, something Max had only seen in training vids.

The Corporal actually smiled at her question, recalling how pissed he had been when he had woken up back on Murkhana. "I was quite angry wasn't I" he replied. He would probably have throttled her in truth, if had been possible with one hand.

"But no" he said, looking down into that T-visor. "You did what you had to, besides the new me might even be an improvement". He discreetly pulled his left sleeve up and showed her the bonded durasteel of his forearm. The brand spanking new cybernetic looked polished in the ballroom light.

Max watched the guests for a long moment, activity picking up as friends and family gradually put the chaos of the evening behind them, finding the confidence to dance around the debris. Despite the whisky in his veins, it felt a little like he and Vizsla were stood on the outside looking in.

"Vizsla's your clan name right?" he mused, turning to her. "What's your name?". He realised he had never asked her on Murkhana, but they barely fit together then. Tonight felt more like a partnership of equals.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale had to roll her eyes at his copout answer about worrying. It was always curious when she found similarities in personalities between her own people and aruetii. Everyone wore armor even with the armor off. She remained silent after that, thinking back to the fight. Shale did worry about Sith, and she feared them like anyone else. She recalled when Darth Raze showed up on their planet and told them to make a decision. She could still recall the unnatural chill around his presence, an eerie ambiance created just by his existence. She seriously doubted she could hold her own against that.

“Damn, looks impressive,” She remarked, looking at the cybernetic. He may have been a corporal, but the Empire certainly hooked him up with a fancy arm. It was one of the few ways things were different for soldiers now. In the past, only Sith had access to high quality cybernetics.

For a long moment, it was clear she was distracted by the crowd that began to enjoy themselves again. Her entire life had been the outside looking into scenes like these. She watched the men leading the women to dance or courting them. There was a pang as she remembered Nox, perhaps the only man that didn’t simply treat her like another soldier. She often wondered what it would be like to be in one of those gowns and be led around on the floor and treated like a proper lady. Her only point of reference was the hours of sappy holomovies she indulged in.

“Hm?” Shale was pulled out of her thoughts, betraying that she had zoned out briefly in watching the dancing and partying. The wound on her back was still pulsing, and she knew she would have to take care of it soon. Dram’s question surprised her, and she turned to regard him quietly for a moment, “Shale,” She said finally.

She threw back more of the whisky before finally turning around to let him see her back, “How bad?” She asked, wincing a bit. He would see the armor was twisted and warped, some of the fabric clinging to skin where it had almost melted against her. The wounds were mostly superficial since she jetbooted away, but there was no denying the badly damaged armor and the top layer of skin was fused with armor at some points.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

She seemed genuinely impressed by the arm, which Max found mattered more to him than expected. Unlike anyone else, Vizsla knew its origin and its cost and she had been intimately involved in both. He had supplemented what the military medics could provide with most of his saved up pay and he thought the outcome was well worth it. She could have made a dozen jibes on seeing it, but instead she agreed. Maybe she was a kinder spirit that he gave her credit.

The Mando was certainly more taken up by the activity of the crowd than before. It was almost as if she had not heard his question, her helmet cocked to one side slightly as she watched the drinkers and dancers, same as him. He had to wonder what was going through her mind. When he had first walked in tonight she had looked bored and despondent, but she was definitely finding something of interest in what was going on in front of them.

When she finally turned away, eventually giving up her name without a fight, he found himself turning it over on his tongue. "Shale". It already felt more personal, more her than Vizsla and stirred a desire in him to know more about the woman behind the soldier.

She turned for him to examine her back and he breathed in sharply. The lightning must have been hot; it had melted and twisted the back panelling of her armor and fused some of the fabric to her skin. He reached to touch the area instinctively to quantify the damage and though he tried to be gentle she would gasp at the pain.

"Nothing Maximum Escalation Dramatic back here" he said reassuringly, reprising her own quip from their last mission. "Few burns and a bit of scarring. It's mainly the fabric that's fused at points, one or two corners of the plate. Not deep, but it will hurt like a bitch to separate". The armor itself would need working back into shape in areas, but he doubted that would phase her. She was an armorer after all.

A quick word with a waiter had a small ice pack brought over in moments. "This should feel better in the short term" he promised, setting the cold press against the injury, hoping to dull the pain. Not for the first time he smiled at the scenario. It was not often you saw the small of a woman's back before you saw her face.

@Sreeya

 

[Shale Vizsla]

Shale gasped involuntarily at his touch, her grip around the whisky bottle tightening. She had taken injuries before, but Sith lightning was a first for her. She felt pain shoot through her body, though she had to appreciate how gentle he was in navigating the injuries. Through the mess of metal and burns, he would be able to make out a tattoo on her lower back. While he may not recognize it, it was the insignia of a rival clan that she had to have tattooed since losing a drunk bet.

When he used the nickname she had given him, Shale actually chuckled beneath the helmet. Her face grew a bit hot, embarrassed at the memory. They had both been on edge, and she was ready to punch the daylights out of him. She looked over her shoulder as he called one of the servers over, the cool ice causing her to hiss. However, the relief was almost instant, and she closed her eyes.

“Your name too long,” She finally turned to face him again after the injuries were at least partially patched up. There was little to do now and she wasn’t in any critical state. A different unit was already en route to establish more of an Imperial presence on the planet which would relieve them of duty here.

“They might give old rank back,” She said as she looked at him, “If they see you fight Sith,” It must have been odd for him to do so. She wondered if he felt as if he was betraying both sides every day, “You grow up Imperial?” Shale asked, surprised she was even curious. She was still on the fence about going all in on Imperial or not. Sometimes she liked the idea of continuing life as a bounty hunter, always moving from place to place.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

Max was arrogant enough to think he was a funny guy when he wanted to be and Shale's chuckle made him snigger too. He had thought she sounded amused earlier and now he was sure she must have been. This girl had a sense of humour if you knew the buttons to press.

He slid his jacket off to handle the ice pack and a few bacta strips from the bar first aid kit. Readjusting the pack, he noticed something that was not fabric, skin or armor. She had a tattoo by the looks of it. Max was about the call it out but he did not know what it meant. If it was in honour of a dead relative or something he did not want to upset her.

"The full thing does not come out very often" he said, in reference to his name "but I did not want you putting me down just for missing out a middle name". He set the ice pack down on the table, pleased that she seemed to be feeling some pain relief.

Her point about his rank had not occurred to him before, with everything going off. "You're right. I'm hoping to persuade the powers that be that I'm in this for real now" he said "taking down a Sith might just do it, even if you dealt with two out of three and mine was cut down by a drunk rookie". As if on cue, Roger Stennar went bumbling past at the head of a small conga line.

Max poured them each another whisky, rolling his eyes at their charge. He had better get elected and thank them every day.

"I did not" he replied, the cumulative whisky making his delivery just a tad dramatic. "I'm from Adumar, we had a pretty intense history and culture to be getting on with before the Empire showed up. But I and a lot of others were glad when they did. Adumarians know how to fight and how to rule. But we were cooped up back home. The Empire is big scale, taking the best to every world out there". He took another swig. "That's why I signed on". It seemed an age ago now, but he could just about remember the ramshackle recruiting stand.

He half sat on the edge of the table, looking at Shale as he framed his own question. "Were you like, born a Mando? Do they do baby beskar'gam sets?".

@Sreeya