[Mandalorian] Clan Barracks

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Just Matt Now

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[OOC: This thread is open to any Mandalorian who is sided with the Cartel.]
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Nal Hutta


Attention

Calling all Mandalorian clans


The call rang out in a highly secured transmission to a select few. Only the leaders of the clans that had sided with the Cartel. The transmission would be relayed to the rest of the Mandalorians as they saw fit. With the Mandalorians freshly coming out of their hiding places from the recent genocide caused by the Empire, the Cartel has managed to reach them and offer it's help. The clans that accepted, were welcome into Hutt territory with open arms and promised that vengeance will soon be theirs. With the stage set, and that promise brought forth, the Mandalorians get their first few chances to hit back. Fighting on the Imperial fronts of Hapes, Corellia, and Bestine IV.

Yet communication is still key. And if the Mandalorians and the Cartel expect to work together, there must be ways for them to relay information. With a home promised to them, and transportation into Hutt territory, shuttles were sent out to the Mandalorian clans. At the time and expense of the Cartel, the Mandalorians were smuggled into Hutt space. Given the freedom to come and go as they pleased. Directed towards a place on Nal Hutta that they could call home, if they wished. A building built, guarded and secure, that would serve as a home and a connection between the Cartel and the clans.

Within the Cartel, it was referred to as the Clan Barracks. It stood out among it's nearest buildings, though certainly not the largest on the Glorious Jewel. It's upkeep, and management was run by the same man who contributed to the Clans' joining. Known as the Arbiter, or the Emissary, Lucifer Vapaelraizo. The Clan's knew him well, and were fond of him.

The Barracks served more than just a home and place of rest, however. It was where clan members could come and address their questions and concerns toward the Cartel Captains and Enforcers, who were at a standby whenever they did decide to speak with them.
 
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huntressofworlds

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Accalia was not what one thought of when they donned the word “Mandalorian”. In fact, the only thing that best embodied her as one of the fierce warriors was her armor, and her spirit. She had spent most of her entire life learning how to survive. That she was still living even to this day was a grand testament to that courage. The fierce new Alor of Clan Orar sat quietly in the rear compartment of the Sentinel. The swift vessel was meant for rapid deployment, something that she knew all too well in these troubled times. All the while the rest of the Orar Fleet was following a set of jumps that kept them on the move. It was true that her Clan had not been there to help their people when the Imperium had struck and rendered all life from the proud Mandalorian Planets of the Mandalore Sector.

It was perhaps something that the Alor sitting in one of the standard deployment seats in the rear compartment did not share with those under her leadership. Accalia was not born in the Mandalore Sector, as such she held no strong affinity for it’s planets. To the female they were just worlds, balls of dirt that meant something to those within her Clan, but were not worth dying over in the eyes of the Shistavanen.

When Ma’saan Orar’s message had come through warning of the impending fleet, they had acted, acted by scrambling and regrouping elsewhere. The Imperial Fleet was too strong, and while they may have held off the attacks for a few moments longer, they would have died. Accalia preferred to keep those around her alive, they would not have won in the Mandalore Sector, but they would endeavor to strike back into the very heart of the Sith Imperium.

In order for that to happen they would need help. Accalia had recalled Barrus Orar’s tales of Clan Fett. She had mulled over the idea of contacting them for days. It was only their lack of knowledge as to where the Fetts were that had prevented that. Until now. Approximately two days ago they had received a transmission, an invitation of sorts from the Hutts.

Accalia was not fond of the Cartel, or any criminal syndicate for that matter, however, that there was a chance for other Mandalorians to be gathered there was an opportunity not to be missed. She would brave what was to come, though she certainly had take the necessary precautions to ensure that if it was some illusion that the rest of the Clan would go on.

Drawing in a deep breath through her nose she tilted her head back upward, having fixated on the winged symbol painted in the center of the deck and focusing on the two Mandalorians across from her. These were true Mandalorians, and while she had formally adopted their ways, and been adopted by Barrus Orar as well, she saw them as more than just Mandalorians. These were her family now. She couldn’t help but feel a bit over protective of them. She had always looked out for her brothers and sisters over the last few weeks, of course Barrus was like a father to her in the months since he’d rescued her. He had taught her the core values of the Mandalorians, taught her how to live again. It was a gift that she would not forget from the old man. She only wished that she could have spoken with him one last time. While her heart still held out hope for his survival, the longer that time progressed the more she kept denying that Barrus was likely never going to return again. She didn’t have time to think about that for now, in fact it made her jaw tighten just touching on it as she was. She gave a low huff and finally clutched onto her harness as the shuttle craft broke in through the atmosphere of Nal Hutta. It was a planet she’d heard whispers of, one she knew of through her former masters, but it was a place new to her all together.

So far they had not been shot out of the sky so such was as good a sign as any she supposed. As soon as the craft stopped shaking as it broke through she brought her hands to the harness release and pressed it with the soft pad of her thumb, releasing the buckle and pushing herself back up to her towering height. Only Kenshin was taller, but with him seated she certainly loomed over both he and Evagria. Her blue glowing eyes stayed on them, one natural, the other slightly brighter with it’s man-made augmentation.

“What lies before us is uncertainty. The Imperium did not ask us what we wanted, or give us anything in which to continue on from save for death and despair. I have spent my life spitting in the face of death and despair. “ Accalia stated, letting her tongue give a quick flick against her nose to keep it wet.

“What is certain is that we and the rest of our Clan will not go quietly into the night. Each one of us are now connected through something that none can break. Through our indomitable will to survive. The Sith Imperium believes they have beaten us, that they have put us down and can celebrate in victory. If it is my last breath I will see that victory turn into ash in their mouths, I will see them burn as they have burned our brethren.” Accalia vowed to the vod seated across from her.

“As we venture into Nal Hutta, reach out to your fellow vod, offer them your support, but most importantly offer them encouragement. It is my deepest desire to locate other Alors and forge what pacts need be made to benefit us all.”
She continued.

Giving just one almost uncommon fanged smile as she bowed her head slightly in a grin. “And if this is some deception, then make sure we take as many of the Aru'e that dare cross us out as you can.” Though she certainly hoped this was not some elaborate deception.

Soon enough though their shuttle would touch down on the landing platform they were directed to. Accalia holstered her weapons in her belt, and slid the well sharpened blades into their sheathes on her backside. Standing upward she reached for the custom helmet she'd made, it wasn't space tight, with the slits in the top of it for her ears to stick through, but it would provide protection from immediate attack, sliding it on over her head she twisted it back and forth slightly till her ears had perked through those slits and hit the release lever for the rampway only after ensuring that her counterparts had readied themselves equally. Only after such did she start walking down that rampway, her blue orbs focused heavily on the platform and the expanse leading towards the main building ahead.
 
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Commissar Brett

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Evagria, The Faithful

Evagria was the first one behind the new Alor. She had never been a Mandalorian in the slightest, not even while with Clan Orar. She only joined the Clan purely because they needed all the help they could get, and Evagria was a natural caregiver. After the sudden but tragic death of Barrus Orar, the Clan had been in disarray for a short time following, trying to figure who the next leader should be. Someone nominated Evagria as a candidate, but naturally, she turned it down. Now, she found that her cargo shorts were brushing helplessly against the goosebumps on her legs from the sudden rush of air. She followed the new Alor, Accalia, dutifully. Even though she required an armed escort, Evagria rarely saw the need to use any weapons, mainly because she was a pacifist. However, the matriarch had requested her presence, so here she was. She turned to Accalia.
"Milady, shouldn't there be a welcoming party of sorts?" She asked in her soft Imperial commoner's accent.
 

Grim

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Kenshin had listened and followed behind his no 'Alor and the force healer, he as he felt from his Alor was not a huge fan of criminal organizations but war did make for some strange bedfellows he figured. He wasn't sure about the pacifist healer and wished that she was a warrior but he knew she could take care of herself. He was most relieved to know that she hadn't been trying to probe his mind. Only a handful could actually read it or influence it and most them would probably have a hard time at it. With that he was at least glad to have some help in any form. It was never easy to provide security for something like this and having at least another force user to let him know if something was giong to go wrong he would take it.

"When it comes to the Hutts Eva'ika not having someone meet you is usually a good sign."
 

huntressofworlds

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Accalia’s ear twitched through her helmet as she listened to Evagria’s question. Fortunately her helmet concealed the slight smirk that rose up on those canine features before a tilt of her head toward Kenshin as he replied about the lack of a welcoming party to greet them being a good thing.

Glowing blue orbs focused back on the female to her left as her helmet canted just a bit and she answered, “I’m no lady Evagria.” Accalia pointed out, “Lets assume they only roll out the red carpets for those who need the vanity of a grand entrance.”

Tightening her tail in nearer Accalia began to walk onward from the rampway of her shuttle towards the doors on the other end of the bridge from the platform. Accalia was wary though, making sure to scan around them and head onward. Each pawstep carried them closer towards the doors and further away from the refuge of their ship. If an attack was going to come, she assumed it would happen in the next few moments, about midways between the two.

One could be certain those two ears were perked high, sensitive hearing listening for anything amiss as her eyes set focus on the doors ahead, just a few more paces and they’d be inside. She didn’t like being out in the open like this, even with two other formidable fighters with her she didn’t like the odds of having to stave off a fight there.

“Have either of you met any of the other Alors?” Accalia asked, casting a glimpse between her two escorting warriors in an attempt to get her mind off of the looming danger.
 
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T.J

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Within the halls of the clan barracks Delmon had already made a place for himself. He did not consider it a home away from home however, or even a place he preferred to go should things become troubling back home. It was much more accommodating than sleeping in his ship though, a norm for the Mandalorian on most other planets he found himself visiting. Not that he intended to visit the slime ball of a moon very often that is. His contract with the Cartel stipulated that he or members of his clan were to periodically enter Hutt space in order to trade intel and other sensitive information, he was merely fulfilling his side of the bargain. The fact that several other surviving Alors were scheduled to meet on that particular day was a happy accident on his part. Though there were some clans he had no wish to speak to again, he still held out hope that some of the others had made it out of the fire the Sith had cast relatively unscathed.

Such a reason was why he had chosen to stay longer than he had originally planned. Though he knew other Mandalorians were meant to show, he had no idea who exactly would. If it was to be one of the particular clans he had gained a dislike for, it was a very likely scenario that words would quickly turned to violence. It was no secret the Alor of clan Ordo placed much of the blame on the clans that had been consumed by their own pride during the Summit. The resulting carnage and attempted genocide rested squarely on their shoulders in Delmon's mind. Should they ever meet again he knew it would end at the point of his blades, at least for the time being.

Delmon chose to wait for the others in the main hall of the barracks. Meant to mimic one of the many bars and taverns that once dotted Manda'yaim, it was furnished with long tables made of some type of expensive wood. The walls were decorated as closely as the Hutt's could muster to the real thing, though any Mandalorian worth his salt would be able to spot the subtle differences. The hall was empty save for him, even still he would be found off to the side leaning against one of the many support columns facing the main door. Though he had chosen to ally with the Hutt's, they had yet to earn the measure of trust he was comfortable with. His helmet remained firmly placed on his head at all times, and his full armor gave him a small token of peace. He had come alone, and as he waited with his arms folded across his chest his mind wandered to his people and the fate he fought desperately to save them from.
 

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"I was found by Barrus, milad- Madame Alor." Evagria caught herself. "Sorry, it's a formality where I come from." She pointed out. "I still don't know why you picked me. I'm no more than a pilot and a medic, yet I'm here as your escort..." She thought aloud as they reached the door to the large barracks.
 

Grim

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"Its because, our lovely little medic, if something happens chances are its going to get ugly and people can end up hurt." To prove his point he lightly touched his lightsabers that were hidden underneath his armored kama. He wasn't sure what he was going to get into but he wasn't going to be unprepared. "besides it gives them someone else to shoot at." he jokingly added.
 

Butler

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"Welcome!" he abruptly and blatantly shouted, startling, from out of the shadows behind them.

A bleached grin, spread across the face of a ghostly figure stepping out into the light, found these newcomers quite amusing in their hesitance; but also aggravating. White suit, entirely pressed into white pants and white dress shoes, wore a man named Lucifer; arms outstretched in admiring adoration. Yet despite his courteous greeting, spontaneous in its reveal from under altered Concealment, he was really quite baffled at how reckless these men were being; calling attention to their position outside a facility meant to remain under cover and jeopardizing the Cartel's generosity. But, of course, the Mandalorians could not read Lucifer's thoughts beneath the happy smile he gave them now. Not even the famed and dreaded Sith could seize his insight.

"If you please?" he waved his open hands in towards the doors.

They were safe here. Lucifer's posturing demonstrated his own confidence and impenetrability against any weapon or number they had mustered, his galvanizing grin all the weapon he needed to subdue a rancor. Their identities were so telegraphed, it was unnecessary to question them. Though the issue would be brought up most certainly. The question wasn't whether or not this facility could be found, as covered and concealed, far removed, as it was. Rather, what mattered was those who inhabited within.

"Here we are," he presented the control pad. "If you'll enter your command key, I'll validate it and we'll be on our way inside," he motioned for the group's leader to step forward and decide upon a code, just as other clan leaders had before.

Security wasn't necessarily their best defense here, though a part of it. It was this facility's unassuming location, its undisclosed seclusion, and self guarded, self maintained, inhabitants that made this place the haven that it was.

Lucifer looked away, lost to an indifferent nonchalance in the over-polluted atmosphere. His carelessness to who they were and what they might threaten him with might astound some. Though, as they'd come to understand, Lucifer was not here to implore them with coercive extravagance.

"Well...?"

The keypad was a ruse, a ruse Lucifer would hardly live down. But a most amusing ruse nonetheless. He just wanted to watch them decide upon some word that held some great, venerable meaning; only for the keypad to not work. Well also to prove how secure the facility was for them, how someone might spend an entire day hacking a security console that led to nothing. The entire door was a facade, a red herring, a stone wall that opened to nothing, solid stone against another building. The real entrance was hidden just around the corner, where none would venture to look in the crease of a dark sewer drain that opened into an underground entrance. Once they figured out that the keypad wasn't working, and Lucifer had had his little laugh, he'd wave his hand over to the real path they were to take; judging their reactions and taking in what might be cause to fret, to suspect. For he too wished for secrecy, believing in the power of a single assassin; something he desired to see fail under his watch.

"Ahahaha. Please excuse the demonstration. After you..."

They would enter on their own. Lucifer would watch, willing his sight out into their circumference; their surroundings. No one would know where these Mandalorians met, whether this was a place for meeting, or whether the Cartel even knew when they came and went. This was to be a sanctuary entirely for the Mandalorians.
 

Livgardist

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Verus Fett was, as seemed the case so often these days, dressed entirely in his beskar'gam, his face hidden by its buy'ce. It was odd; normally he was a laidback man who preferred to get drunk with his comrades, and whose sarcasms knew no bound. Bu when he put on his beskar'gam, it was almost as if he was overtaken by the spirit of his ancestors. His personality changed, perhaps to accomodate the expressionless helmet. Perhaps it was a Mandalorian thing. But when he put his buy'ce on, Verus Fett was all professional.

His comrades, about a dozen of the Fett's clan members, had accompanied him through the hidden sewer pipe into the Mandalorian Barracks, to inspect what would serve as their embassy of sorts with the Hutt Cartel, as well as a home for part of the clan. So far, the security measures had been satisfactory. Though for the Fetts to feel at home there, there were other things that needed be done as well. As they walked through the barracks, Verus looked around silently. The planet itself, Nal'Hutta, wasn't a sunstroked world with green plains, but to the Fetts, it was as good a home as any. The wilderness allowed for hunting and target practice, even combat training, and the ground was fertile enough that they could grow some crops there as well.

The stench was something they'd have to get used to. But the Fetts would make do, as always.

Verus stopped as he caught sight of several other people. One of them was Lucifer Vapaelrazio, the Hutt Cartel member who had originally with Verus forged the bond that now tied them together. The other three were Mandalorians, Verus estimated. His men, taking the ungiven hint, scattered to begin preparation for their stay, and Verus walked up to the group, offering a polite, albeit very slight, bow as he spoke:

"We meet again, Lucifer Vapaelrazio."
 

huntressofworlds

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She chuckled just a little bit, “ Accalia.. Just. Accalia.” The new Alor replied, minorly humored at Evagria’s need to give her a title of sorts. While she knew it was an honor to be called such, Accalia wasn’t quite yet ready for the title to bear such weight. At least not while she still had hopes for Barrus’s return one day. Perhaps soon she would get use to it, for now it only made her feel as though she were walking over her buir’s grave.

Evagria’s thought aloud was first answered by Kenshin, then the real answer given by the tall canine standing between them as she paused in her path and took a glimpse towards her. “I chose you because I trust you.” Accalia replied. “And if..” she took a glimpse towards Kenshin before looking back to the young human female, “ something does happen. I’d rather it be you that was nearby than one of the Hutts or worse.”

Speaking of the Hutts. The abrupt and loud shout that came from behind sent Accalia on edge almost immediately. While none could see it, it even caused the lupine’s fur to bristle a bit as she reached to the hilt of the blade sheathed on her backside, almost drawing it as that bleached white ghostly figure stepped forward.

She inhaled a breath through her nose, strange that she had not picked him up till now. Perhaps a deception of some kind, she wasn’t quite yet certain as those blue eyes within her helmet focused on the man that approached them. Lucifer’s poise and demeanor certainly might leant itself towards safety, but Accalia wasn’t fooled, she didn’t trust the man any further than she could throw him. Though had she tried she certainly would’ve sent him off the platform and plummeting to his death.

“Who’re you?” she questioned, focused and already on edge.

Everything about the man reminded her of the men back when she was younger, the Syndicat men that had been the shining face of greeting to various criminal and drug lords. It was actually causing her stomach to twist into a bit of a knot, especially when he presented a control pad to her. Lucifer might be entirely disappointed to find that Accalia took no time in decisively punching at the same digit displayed on the pad. Of course when the pad didn’t respond to the big muscular canine’s attempts to carelessly enter the same digit she took no great care in hiding her displeasure, as she issued a growl through the speakers in her helmet.

However, despite the lack of a sense of humor, she was there for a purpose, killing the first Hutt envoy that had greeted her probably wouldn’t go over so well. She huffed a bit, exhaling out the full breath she’d held onto in frustration before she headed towards the hidden entrance they’d been directed to.

The Hutts had certainly gone to considerable troubles to hide them there, give them a place out of anyone’s view. Part of her even wanted to think they’d of not allowed her vessel to even land had it even the remotest hint of a Mandalorian symbol on it. Fortunately the Sentinel was no different in appearance than the hundreds of thousands that had been built over the last millennia.

Accalia would pause though, giving one last wary glimpse from that t-visored helmet back towards the pale white human and lingering that gaze before she headed onward through the entrance she’d been directed to.

She wouldn’t make it far as Verus approached them. She paused in mid stride and focused on the man that took his bow and spoke. That strong commanding voice was a tone she’d gotten use to hearing over the years. It was perhaps the sigil that she spotted on a few places, the wheat and blood. She inhaled a breath, unfiltered and taking in the scent of the man as she finally gave a bow of her head in greeting. Even her ears drooped back slightly, perhaps for the first time letting their guard down some. The atmosphere within the confines of that entrance hall was different, her eyes scanned beyond Verus before she set her eyes back on him and turned to the side, giving a nod to her own Clan members, one that signaled she was okay with things for now.

“I assume this one is…” Accalia fought for the right word, having never really been one for the finesse of higher social speeches, “…Legitimate?” she questioned to Verus, in regards to Lucifer, though she still wasn’t entirely certain exactly who he was, but there was only one way to find out as she introduced herself.

“I am Accalia Orar, Barrus always spoke very highly of Clan Fett. It pleases me to see some of you here.” Her helmeted gaze turned towards the pale white human once more, adding. “I received a coded message telling me about this place. Yours?” she questioned, regarding the message that she’d received. The way the Fett before her greeted the man, she was certainly getting the feeling he was more than the resident jokester.
 

Livgardist

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Verus turned to the Orar woman, and offered her the same polite, very slight bow as he spoke:
"Lucifer Vapaelrazio has never given me any reason to doubt his intentions. I believe you can trust in him as you would in me. And it pleases me to see Clan Orar one more time before the manda take me. But what of Alor Barrus? You say he has spoken highly of us. But I notice with some concern that you speak of him in past tense, and that he is not among you. What has become of my old friend, sister?"
 

Stormthroe

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For two days, the crew of the Marshall had been jumping at shadows. Ever since picking up a load of supplies back on Trandosha, there had been a looming shadow on board, and several of the crew claimed to have spotted a massive beast reminiscent of the old stories of half-humans and hunters of the night, but nothing had been confirmed yet.

None of them knew for sure what had happened, but there was a rumor going around that one of the major Imperial mining operations had had its entire crew of supervisors butchered by some unknown enemy, gruesomely ripped to shreds. Word had it that some animal had attacked them, but it seemed odd since none of the slaves save a single lupine-like female were dead. The only clues that anyone had really had before the Marshall had left was the broken chains on one of the levels that looked to have been snapped, though this was entirely speculative. The durasteel links had been broken indeed, but surely nothing short of a rancor could chew through something so hard. Right?

As the Mandalorian Barracks came into sight, the captain of the Marshall announced they would be unloading soon. The crew hurried about their business, warily moving crates to the rear of the ship's hold, preparing to unload. As the ship touched down and the loading ramp opened, the crew began to push the boxes filled with the valuable Trandoshan ores onto the dock, preferring to get paid quickly rather than know what the Hutts wished with the metals. They worked quickly, and only one of them barley noticed the darting mass of sinew and fur that sprang from atop one of the taller stacks, landing a level lower with hardly a sound. As the crew member gawked, the large creature seemingly noticed and turned, glaring up at him with intense, golden eyes hidden beneath its grey-furred brow, and its limbs were wrapped in ragged cloth stained with what could only be blood. It snarled, baring inch long fangs, and the crew member quickly shuddered and hurried inside at the sight. Had he stayed, he'd have seen the creature smile a toothy grin, then move down the nearby corridor leading further into the complex.
---------------------------
Cana was almost shaking from the nervousness he'd felt when the crewman had finally spotted him. For both days, he'd been subsisting on scraps of food he'd stolen from where they'd left it sitting around. It'd been tough to stay hidden in such enclosed quarters, with no obvious hiding places besides the cargo hold, but he'd managed to remain undetected for the duration of the trip. He quickly moved through the streets, moving away from the docks as quickly as possible in case the crew knew about his escape from the mines on Trandosha and reported him. Though this seemed like a logical choice, really, Cana was only reacting on base instinct. Avoid the area where your hunter, or your prey, had last spotted you.

He paused after he felt he was safe, his broad chest heaving. He'd barely noticed the locals eyeing him, and the signs of a few pointing onlookers and gossip-mongers indicated he was not a regular sight. He ignored them and turned away, sniffing the air slightly and darting his eyes about his surroundings. He had no idea what to do, or where to go. The scent of Nal Hutta was evident, even over the general cleanliness of the building. Cana's acute ears picked up the sounds of speeders, conversations in numerous alien languages, and of numerous other happenings within the citadel. It was overwhelming to him, and he swayed, slightly nauseous by all of the stimuli. It was far more than he'd ever experienced as a slave.

As Cana regained his composure, he stood to his full height looking over the heads of those around him. He sniffed again, filtering out the stench of the swamp-world, and found a much more suiting scent. Suddenly, Cana realized just how hungry he was, and moved towards the smell of meat. He kept his eyes sharp, scanning the people he passed with bestial scrutiny. Most hurried past, clearly intimidated by his stature and predatory appearance. Others simply eyed him up, letting him pass. Cana was glad no one stopped him, but he figured he'd remain as large as he could to avoid any trouble.

Cana followed the scent for some time, weaving through corridors. Twice he'd run into the metal-men, similar to the ones in the mining facility that helped move stone. However, there were many other forms of them here, including several perplexing versions. They seemed to be metal-men, but Cana could feel something...alive about them. Their movements were smooth and controlled, not sharp and angled like the other droids he'd seen. He shrugged, rolling out his shoulders. "No matter," he thought, "Food is more important." As Cana rounded the next corner, the scent of the meat seemed to grow stronger, and directed him through a nearby doorway.

He ducked in, nearly needing to turn sideways to fit into the mess-hall. Cana glanced around, spying food, but he quickly realized it was surrounded by metal-men, the special ones, except these ones had fleshy heads. While this confused him greatly, Cana felt his stomach growl, and licked his lips to cover the sounds of hunger. He needed that food.

Just as he was about to try and make his way to the line leading to the food ahead, and force his way to the meal, he caught a scent upon the air. He paused, sniffing carefully. No. Impossible! Another Shistavanen was here, somewhere, and a female at that. Cana growled inquisitively, ignoring the hunger building in his stomach as his gut angrily argued against him turning away from the chow lines. He forced his way back through the doorway, following the scent . Where, where, where....there!

As Cana rounded the corner, he spied his prey...sort of. There was a wolf-like figure, but it was entirely clad in armor. He licked his nose, dampening it as he unabashedly analyzed the armored-female and those around her. They had come in from the outside, and Cana barely realized he'd descended a few floors following the scent. Several others stood around her, obviously greeting one another, and yet despite the different metal pelts each wore, they spoke as friends, or at least acquaintances. It perplexed Cana as he watched them, his eyes glancing at each one, specifically between the exchange between the female Shistavanen and another metal-man. Cana perked his ears at the man's voice, a stern sound that demanded respect, but seemed somewhat kind, though it was distorted slightly by the metal over his face. He bowed slightly to the others. Cana growled slightly, interested in the exchange, but decided it was best to stay out of it for now, though he could not help but continue to watch them, especially the pale human, the metal-man with the commanding voice, and the armored female.
 

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Kenshin was glad his face was hidden by his helmet because he was sure his dislike would have been evident. His own distrust was evident in the force if only for a second before he clamped down on it and calmed his emotions in the force. The was too clean he reminded Kenshin of a shady used speeder salesman. The man was quick to show off the security in a way that made Kenshin think that at some level the man liked watching people fail, being a member of the hutts he imagined it was more true then he figured.

While the smell of the sewer was bad, his armor was able to scrub out most of the smell but he was glad to be inside the building where the scent was gone, he could only imagine how Evagria was feeling about the smell. Inside he was surprised at how quickly they had found the man they were looking for; the force he surmised was just like that at times.

The Fett man was what Kenshin figured he would be like, to the point and seemed to be on top of things if not just a bit mistrusting. Not that Kenshin blamed him, it would be a bit add to find out that after all that has happened that a new leader who he had not met before was now leading the smaller clan. He didn't like hearing that acusation that seemed to be in his tone but he knew it was for his Alor to take care of not his. So with that he just kept an eye on things using his helmets 360 view.

They had only been standing there a short time but he felt through he force something almost animal like was watching them so he casually put himself between his Alor and the position that he felt the focus was coming from and continued to pay attention to the surroundings to see if the the sentient that he was sensing would come out.
 

Commissar Brett

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The moment they entered the sewer, Evagria was immediately repulsed. She pulled the bandanna that was tied around her neck over her nose and mouth, but it did little to keep the vile smell out of her nostrils. Then they met the Fett man. Evagria was always weary of new people for a short time, but that ended when she felt the same, animalistic presence that the warrior sensed. She began scanning their surroundings, her eyes arcing across the halls.
 

Butler

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Lucifer followed them in, thoroughly adoring their musty mistrust of him. But even more rewarding were the words that came from Verus next, forcing a flood of red rushing to the surface that flexed the spread of a smile.

"Oh, Verus, what beautiful words! So glad to see you've come."

Lucifer paused with delight, so privy to details within this heathen court he'd helped to assemble.

"Why whatever do you mean... Accalia?" Lucifer devoured the tasting of her name, so sure she'd never have given it to him so lightly if not for Verus. She was here by his design. Surely she had to know that it was not his first attempt to contact Clan Orar. "But surely that can wait. Your words worry us. Please do tell. What has become of dear Barrus?"

Lucifer played with a subtle sarcasm in the tender teetering of his head, though truly curious he was. He was, after all, the man responsible for this safe haven. Despite how he treasured their distaste of him, he also heeded his true goal of helping them that they might rupture a rift in the Sith ranks. He was not who they should fear, not here.

Though despite Accalia's answer, despite the looks he enjoyed in each of her followers, there was something else out there. Something he noticed, something he noticed in one of the Orars who also noticed it. Curious, Lucifer thought with a thin grin, examining the Mandalorian who showed more; a touch of the Force on this one. But Lucifer stepped back before the beast entered, making room for these fellows to deal with its ravenous reveal. Perhaps it was a telegraph to the other Force user. But Lucifer seemed less surprised then wary. Was their hidden refuge already undone?

It was enormous, monstrous. It was hideously gorgeous. It was just the kind of beast he hoped to see within these warriors' ranks.

"My, my," he addressed Cana with great interest. "Aren't you a big one!"

Yet, before the creature could think to intimidate this man who surrounded himself in a growing sea of steel, he addressed the first issue of their questionable security.

"You know," he lifted a finger before stretching out a hand to the door behind them, "I think I feel a draft."

His hand waved an unworldly inflexion of Force application and the door controls flickered a display of colors before the containment controls closed both the sewer entrance as well as the hidden door within. After all, at least one of these Clan leaders already knew he was once a Jedi. Better to flaunt it than improperly portray pretenses.

"Anyone else who comes will either know how to get in, or shouldn't be here. Wouldn't want any of you to worry about any surprises, now would we?"
 

huntressofworlds

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Accalia’s ears drooped back slightly as both Verus and Lucifer asked about Barrus. She was quiet for a moment as she sought to find the words to speak, words of a truth she didn’t yet wish to admit nor accept. In fact Lucifer very well could sense the well of emotions in the armored canine Alor. A slight tilt of her head had her gaze lowered more towards Verus’s chest plate than his head.

“Barrus..” she began, inhaling a deeper breath, perhaps the first time she’d noticed a chance in the scents in the wind as she pivoted her head to focus on Lucifer once more.

“Last we knew he’d gone to Bandomeer. He has not returned to us from Mandalore since....”
the tone was there, a hint towards a trip prior to the genocide of so many. She trailed her story off, the rest really didn’t need be spoken, nor did she feel like speaking it. Fortunately the arrival of the male Shistavanen was something entirely uncommon for Accalia.

With her people being so isolationist and nomadic, she had never actually run into another of her kind since she’d been little. Her parents had been the last two she’d ever seen in her entire life thus far. Yet his scent was unmistakably one of her own kind, her ears perked back forward as she honed her focus in on the male that seemed equally out of place in the group, though she blended in more with her armored exterior.

She had taken notice of her two clan member’s attention being drawn towards this young male that had his focus on them. Lucifer’s comment on how big he was made her ear twitch just slightly and only briefly did her attention divert from Cana towards Lucifer once more as he mentioned the draft and through the Force sealed them all within. His attempt to levy a sense of calm and security obviously meant that Cana had taken him a bit by surprise.

Accalia placed a big furry paw on Lucifer’s shoulder as she canted her head slightly, “I’ll deal with him.” She assured the pale white human.

Her attention focused on both Kenshin and Evagria as she stepped back forward, inserting herself between the two of them once more. Her sensitive ears picked up the faint growl on Cana’s throat. Perhaps a bit out of curiosity, but he was equally very likely feeling a bit intimidated as well, and he certainly was out of place among all those armored pelts.

“Hold back.”

Accalia’s paws moved up to take hold of her helmet, slowly twisting it back and forth as she pulled her ears back through the slits built atop and slowly tugged her head from the mechanical bucket. Her blue eyes set on him again, one natural, the other an implant, the mechanical implants along the side of her face more than apparent as well as that fashioned steel rear fang. Her black leathery nose inhaled a bit more of the scent in his direction as she brought her helmet down and slipped the ring within onto a hook on her belt.

Starting her path towards the big towering male, he was even taller than she or Kenshin, certainly than almost all of the others in the room with them. Big one was an understatement indeed. Accalia’s tail seemed relaxed enough, though cautious as it swayed behind her gate towards the big Shistavanen. Her glowing blue eyes shifted their focus though mid ways towards the canine towards the armored male leaned up against one of the support pillars of an adjacent hall. The long wooden tables within seemed fitting as some form of social gathering area, perhaps a food area of some sort, likely Cana’s original course she could have assumed by the low rumble of protest that those fine hairs in her ears picked up from his belly. Of course she let those blue eyes give Delmon a once over, studying him with a nod of her head in his direction which had her greeting bestowed upon him before she passed by that main entryway into it.

Accalia had to confess she, much like Cana was a curious creature of sorts. Where had he come from? He looked like he’d seen better days, especially if the wrappings around various points on him made any indication of that. She knew that look though, a look and a fate she’d once shared herself years prior though she imagined he was less likely inclined to share the take anymore than she was herself.

There were few things she remembered from her life as a Shistavanen, she’d not interacted with her kind since she was a young pup, as such she’d never used her own kind’s language in that time, she didn’t know the words for the things she wanted to say to Cana in it, she was damned curious about him though, so many questions she’d had over the years since being a pup, she supposed the low growl and rumble that came from her in it’s varying tones came to be a rudimentary version of a “Greetings” in her own native tongue.

Slowing her pace the nearer she drew near to Cana, assuming he didn’t bolt she paused a few paces from him, cautious as her kind was meant to be. She didn’t know anything about him, nor he about she. As territorial as their kind could be, she had to make sure she wasn’t about to get that big male to bristle at her approach, last thing she wanted was to end up with a set of fang marks in her hide right off the bat.
 

Stormthroe

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Cana's sensitive ears detected that he had been discovered, the slithering voice of the pale-one registering his presence to the rest of the group he had been watching. He easily dwarfed them, but his instincts directed him that it would be dangerous to confront them, though each seemed aware of them. He was about to bolt whenever the female said something about dealing with him, carefully removed her helmet, and began to approach him.

His golden-irised eyes focused solely on her from beneath his brow, his nose twitching as she cautiously walked towards him. Instinctively, he rose to his full height, even a female could become an opponent given the situation he was in, what with him being on an entirely different planet for the first time. His eyes met hers, one being strange and unnaturally colored. He squinted slightly, licking his jowls as he debated how to react to her presence. Cana's arms twitched nervously, each taloned finger curling against his palm at the females approach. He flicked his tail once, like the thick crack of a whip as he felt his stomach growl. He was about to bolt, to run, afraid he'd been discovered, but the way she looked at him...he stayed his reaction, against the inner beast telling him to flee.

She stopped, just out of reach of his arms, her armor glinting slightly, and yet she continued to look at him in that strange way, as if she was contemplating his entire life. He admitted to himself it was strange. He only barely remembered his home, and had only interacted with one other Shistavanen previously. The thought broke him. Reika. Her memory was crippling, and before it showed on the surface, he pressed his talon into his palm to take his mind away as quickly as possible, the dark red-black blood beginning to run slowly down its length.

The female spoke, her Shistavanen...inarticulate. Nonetheless, it surprised Cana to hear her voice. It was sweeter than his own rough, wolfish tone, much closer to the metal-men's key than his own. Perhaps his years of slave labor had damaged his own voice, he couldn't remember the voices of any but he and Reika's. Suddenly, he had no idea how to react, his eyes darting from her to each of her companions, and another who she had acknowledged just before she stopped walking towards him. He licked his nose, and became increasingly aware of the pit in his stomach, and his ears flicked through several different directions. Finally, his senses refocused upon the female. He growled, ending in a small whine as he was unsure what to say, trying to find the words.

"Hell....hello..." he growled, the small series of stuttering growls and whimpers, intoning his nervousness. Despite all things to the contrary, his tail laid flat against his leg, a show of docility for their species, though not submission. He looked up, his golden eyes beckoning to her for help. "Where am I?"
 

Livgardist

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Verus nodded to the woman as she told him of what had happened to Barrus. He was about to reply, but things took an unexpected turn when Lucifer told them they had company. Verus watched the events that followed silently behind his T-shaped visor, a relaxed posture, or as relaxed as any Mandalorian in a beskar'gam could appear, waiting and watching the newly arrived Shistavanen. Slowly, he stepped up next to the woman, and spoke:

"You are amongst the Mando'ade." He said, offering one of those polite but tiny bows that was characteristic for the Fett Alor, in a society where bows were generally considered an act of subservience, but in a clan where they were considered common courtesy bestowed on all who were not openly hostile. "For the benefit of my vode, would you tell us - are you friend or foe?"
 
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Stormthroe

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Cana's fur bristled as the man approached the female as his territorial instincts rowled, at least, he assumed a man sat beneath the metal hide after observing some of the others. His presence was unwelcome, but he spoke calmly enough that Cana was not threatened and the polite bow somewhat calmed him. Cana looked down at him, his tail raising from his speech with the female to a more dominant position, as he tried to understand the man's words in his own broken basic.

"Mandaid," incorrectly pronounced Cana, his bestial voice and limited basic preventing proper enunciation of the Mando'a word as he lulled the words about his fanged mouth. He didn't even recognize some of the words in Verus' speech, deducing them to be some alien language like some of the slaves from the mines. Cana growled his frustration, but locked his eyes on the center of the t-visor where the man's face would be, "Vood..."

Cana was not intimidated, but rather impressed by the man. None but the female had been brave enough to approach him in this place, avoiding his path when possible and his gaze when not. The man must have been a warrior, thought Cana, and based on the respect that was shown to him by the passerby, a great one. Cana was awed by him, feeling his eyes analyzing him even though he could not see them. He decided that the man wanted to know his name, only recognizing a few of the words he had asked.

"Fren...freend. My nay-may..." struggled Cana, his wolfish voice destroying the phonetics of basic. He growled menacingly, causing a few of the passerby to jump or reach for weapons. He glanced at them, then at the female, spitting frustratedly in Shistavani, "My name is Cana Arkiss, please help me. I do not understand its language. He asks if I am an ally, yes? If I am an enemy? Tell him I am neither. I am packless, and mean no harm to him, or his pack. I...only recently arrived." Cana debated telling her how he had arrived, but decided it was best that others did not know the truth of his origins. He tightened the wrap around his right wrist at the memory, covering the scars of the shackles that once sat there, stretching his taloned fingers as the guttural, feral-sounding barks and growls of his native language spat into the air like a coarse stone into the calm of a reflection pool. He turned to the man after speaking, attempting a sincere smile, though it looked much more sinister and predatory than he intended, and surely seemed aggressive to most people. He hoped she could understand him well enough to get his point across.
 
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