The Jungle was stifling even through the filters of the armoured helmet, he could taste the moisture in the air. But at least the full body suit kept the bugs off, they buzzed around him like flies on a turd. Foliage was extremely thick forcing him to go a round about route to reach his intended target, his little escapade on Kafrane had found him not only his target but the person he was due to meet in a clearing a few meters ahead of him. He checked the blaster pistol on his hip, the sword on his back and the rifle in his hands, it had been a long while since had held one of these let alone used it. But this was the guise, here he was not a Sith Councillor, nor a King, not even Artorigas Wessex. No he was Trystan Drake, a Mandalorian of a fake house, this was the beginning of a scheme to use these warriors as his own army.
But for that he needed not only followers but prestige on the name. So he had used the slicer to find him some contacts within the Clans as well as a little gem in the deep dark jungle which could bring a little recognition to his name. Breaking through the edge of the clearing he spotted their destination, an old ruin once belonging to the Culture he now 'belonged' too, he only had to await his little friend on this adventure.
@Sicadorito