Narir Solus
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Messages
- 214
- Reaction score
- 64
Narir had been on the planet for several days, and this was the first time it had stopped raining. It was a status he was sure wouldn't last, but the brief reprieve had given him the chance to peel his helmet away and take a deep breath of air without being immediately drenched.
From head to toe, he was caked in the mud of this planet, and he had no delusions that that would change as long as he was on the planet. Because of this, he was rather excited to get this job done and never have to return to Jabiim again.
He also didn't like that his regular armor had been changed out for some other heavy armor. He checked over his weapons, silently thankful that the Mandalorians built weapons that were sturdy and would fire even if they'd been under a decomposing body for days... yes, that had happened, and yes, the gun still fired. So, while he tired to keep his weapons clean, the Mandalorian wasn't too worried about whether or not it would go "bang" when he squeezed the trigger.
And the squeezing of the trigger might be sooner rather than later. He and Raz had been here for three days specifically because they were waiting for a prime opportunity: one like this one. Of the mercenaries that worked for the Empire, 90% of their 20 man company had filed out for a patrol for the day, which left the two remaining men to guard the camp. It was just the perfect time for a pair of devious Mandalorians to make their move.
"We'll want to be quiet..." he grumbled in a disgruntled tone. He had no doubt she would be oh-so-excited about him admitting defeat from the get-go on this one. "I'm thinking beskad only," he said. Rain would wash away the blood, and a sword would be far more quiet than a blaster. Even from here, Narir could see gaps in the armor to be exploited with a close slash or stab.
From head to toe, he was caked in the mud of this planet, and he had no delusions that that would change as long as he was on the planet. Because of this, he was rather excited to get this job done and never have to return to Jabiim again.
He also didn't like that his regular armor had been changed out for some other heavy armor. He checked over his weapons, silently thankful that the Mandalorians built weapons that were sturdy and would fire even if they'd been under a decomposing body for days... yes, that had happened, and yes, the gun still fired. So, while he tired to keep his weapons clean, the Mandalorian wasn't too worried about whether or not it would go "bang" when he squeezed the trigger.
And the squeezing of the trigger might be sooner rather than later. He and Raz had been here for three days specifically because they were waiting for a prime opportunity: one like this one. Of the mercenaries that worked for the Empire, 90% of their 20 man company had filed out for a patrol for the day, which left the two remaining men to guard the camp. It was just the perfect time for a pair of devious Mandalorians to make their move.
"We'll want to be quiet..." he grumbled in a disgruntled tone. He had no doubt she would be oh-so-excited about him admitting defeat from the get-go on this one. "I'm thinking beskad only," he said. Rain would wash away the blood, and a sword would be far more quiet than a blaster. Even from here, Narir could see gaps in the armor to be exploited with a close slash or stab.
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