The asteroid field drifted as aimlessly and unremarkably as the gas giant it circled. They were two astronomical objects that meant little and less until they were observed, like a tree falling in a forest. Well, this was one kriffing tree.
What had fallen in that asteroid belt was one ship upon the other. In the aftermath, the asteroid that the Unwavering had been hugging broke apart, pieces of rock joining the bones of the other ship, her name not yet known.
That one had gone the way of the asteroid, though in her final breaths the ship had taken out the corvette’s engines and left her stranded in a cloud of debris.
It was too thick for Casany’s Winged Pike to fly through, not without risk to either vessel as she maybe set something off that would lead to more bones for someone else to pick through.
Instead, the Mandalorian parked her Y-Wing just outside the debris field and floated from the cockpit. Another Mandalorian appeared beside her, blue gray beskar cruising with red and gold.
Zaia Krodas knew of the situation about as much as her sister did. Casany Praxor had made ready to reclaim the Unwavering, a Crusader-class corvette of the True Mandalorians, but none were well received by their enemies.
The ship had been waiting in the asteroid belt when it sent Casany a distress signal. The crew were fighting off a boarding party of Mandalorians. So Casany had come, and she had not come alone.
Vod at one side, pistols at either side, rifle in hand, sword at back beside jetpack, the one some called Anvil would soon become a hammer once again.
Behind her visor, the Mandalorian’s world lights up in the dark between the stars as she negotiates her way through the graveyard.
Her HUD gives her three hundred sixty degrees of vision as vambraces push past rock and wreckage, helmet bumping against the head of a wayward corpse floating by in a black gold suit. Ratheon.
The warrior bites her tongue, scans the cruiser, scopes out a hatch to serve as the mouth of her anger. It would blaze against the di’kuts who had thrust themselves upon the Unwavering so as to take her, Mandalorian or not.
At last, the sisters of war arrive at the door. Cas hugged the hull, one hand on her rifle, the other giving Zaia a signal. “Breach and clear. On three.” One. Two—
@Sicadorito
What had fallen in that asteroid belt was one ship upon the other. In the aftermath, the asteroid that the Unwavering had been hugging broke apart, pieces of rock joining the bones of the other ship, her name not yet known.
That one had gone the way of the asteroid, though in her final breaths the ship had taken out the corvette’s engines and left her stranded in a cloud of debris.
It was too thick for Casany’s Winged Pike to fly through, not without risk to either vessel as she maybe set something off that would lead to more bones for someone else to pick through.
Instead, the Mandalorian parked her Y-Wing just outside the debris field and floated from the cockpit. Another Mandalorian appeared beside her, blue gray beskar cruising with red and gold.
Zaia Krodas knew of the situation about as much as her sister did. Casany Praxor had made ready to reclaim the Unwavering, a Crusader-class corvette of the True Mandalorians, but none were well received by their enemies.
The ship had been waiting in the asteroid belt when it sent Casany a distress signal. The crew were fighting off a boarding party of Mandalorians. So Casany had come, and she had not come alone.
Vod at one side, pistols at either side, rifle in hand, sword at back beside jetpack, the one some called Anvil would soon become a hammer once again.
Behind her visor, the Mandalorian’s world lights up in the dark between the stars as she negotiates her way through the graveyard.
Her HUD gives her three hundred sixty degrees of vision as vambraces push past rock and wreckage, helmet bumping against the head of a wayward corpse floating by in a black gold suit. Ratheon.
The warrior bites her tongue, scans the cruiser, scopes out a hatch to serve as the mouth of her anger. It would blaze against the di’kuts who had thrust themselves upon the Unwavering so as to take her, Mandalorian or not.
At last, the sisters of war arrive at the door. Cas hugged the hull, one hand on her rifle, the other giving Zaia a signal. “Breach and clear. On three.” One. Two—
@Sicadorito