Chase The Dragon

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Corrin was on his own personal little quest. He'd brought himself great dishonor at the end of his childhood. At twelve years old, he had the bright idea of challenging the ruling Mandalore for the title. Needless to say, Corrin lost; badly. Now, the Tal'verda were not known for giving up easily, and the son of the clan's former chieftain did not think of himself as a quitter. If there was anything he should be doing, it was regaining his honor. Mandalore needed strong leadership after all, and who better to walk down that path but him?

Of course, that road was a long one, and starting it was proving difficult. Mandalore did not get its hands dirty much these days. The chieftains were happy to sit on their laurels and watch the galaxy shift from the sidelines. Sure, the Mando'ade did expand from time to time, and yes, they did fall into the occasional battle here and there, but the glory days of the Mando'ade were long behind them.

No one feared the Mandalorians anymore. No one sang of their glories. When you said you were one of the aliit, aruetiise could not give less of a damn. Being Mando'ade did not mean much anymore. Corrin was looking to fix that.

So he'd taken to Tatooine of all worlds. The reason? He wanted to hunt one of the last few Krayt Dragons. Returning with one of their horns, and if he was especially lucky, a pearl would surely help to show off his prowess. Now, one could not make this undertaking alone, lest they had a death wish. The Krayt Dragons were as long as the Republic's carrier ships, and blasters did little but annoy them. One needed the right weapons, and the right people to take them down.

Corrin only had one, [member="Dionysia Wirhan"]. Who better to take down one of the galaxy's greatest monster than a fellow Mandalorian?

His Belbulab had landed near a small break in the desert; a series of caverns often used by the Jawas for various purposes. Today, they would serve as a base of operations. He sat on the front of the vessel, sipping a Balmoraan Bluesky as he enjoyed the mid-day heat. He was clad in a sleeveless beskar chest piece, and durasteel greaves, boots, and leather gloves. He did not have a full set of armor just yet, and he did not want to rely too much on technology to challenge this great beast. The glory could only be his if he dealt with it like a man, or in Dionysia's case, a woman.

 

[Dionysia Wirhan]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

Dionysia stepped out of the ship and squinted up into the midday sun. The heat beat down on her exposed arms and face, so she could feel sweat begin to prickle along her pale skin. She would be burned before this was over, joy of joys. Her usual set of armor was greatly reduced out of deference to the quest she and [member="Corrin Tal'verda"] were on, but at least only the aforementioned areas were exposed. Her durasteel chest piece shielded her from shoulder to hip and her leather leggings guarded with durasteel greaves took care of the rest. Beskar wasn't entirely necessary for this; the lack thereof simply meant that she would need to take care while she helped him wrangle the crotchety beast for good and glory of their people.

His goal was a noble one; Sia had grown up on stories of the old Mando'ade, and her people were not the warriors they once were. Not lately, anyway, as the Mand'alor seemed to be sitting on his hands, allowing his people to do as they pleased but doing nothing to help them band together into the unstoppable force they could be. Corrin was willing to take up the role with gusto and, since Sia had little interest in filling the oft-changed position herself, she was willing to pitch her lot in with him and aid in getting new blood for their Mand'alor. Besides, Tal'verda was a well-enough known name in her village to show it would be an honorable take over, however they went about it.

Her boots sank into the desert sand, and she internally sighed in acknowledgement; there was going to be sand to dump out of her boots later. She adjusted her durasteel-plated leather gloves as she approached the front of the ship and squinted up at him. "Are you done relaxing, ad'ika? We have a dragon to kill."

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

How much older was she than him? Two years, give or take? Not enough for her to call him a child, but she did it anyway. She probably knew it got under his skin by now. He'd never taken kindly to the title, even in his younger days. For a man who became the aliit buir of his clan at the tender age of thirteen, such things were a bit of an annoyance. Of course he didn't voice it. Doing that would only give her gratification to continue using the title.

Anymore of it and he might find himself going insane.

"I was waiting for you to fix your hair," he deadpanned, "I'm ready so long as you are. There aren't many Krayts left running around on Tatooine. The planet's lady overlord saw to that."

Disdain laced his words. Corrin had no love for businesswomen, and Tatooine was ruled by one of the wealthiest women in the galaxy. Danger something. He couldn't recall the last name, not that it mattered much. He'd heard enough stories from his father to develop an opinion. The Techno Union had devolved from a democratic super power into a capitalist worshiping whorehouse because of folks with an eye for credits over people.

His gaze fell upon Sia. He did not know her particularly well, though he suspected that was wont to change in the coming months. She was the first of many, and her help here would prove crucial to the movement. It would be hard for people to tell a man no when he wore pauldrons made of Krayt Dragon horns, and even more so when the very picture of a Mandalorian woman stood by his side. Not too big, not too small, with blondish-red hair and a pretty face. A warrior woman. She would be amazing for PR.

Not that Corrin much cared about that right now.

"I do know the location of one though. A truly massive beast. He's a bull, and he's lonely. They're especially aggressive this time of the year -- mating season. We'll have our work cut out for us." He smiled. "The speeder bikes are already unloaded. I've got two beskar tipped spears, six proximity mines, and a Deece. Yourself?"

[member="Dionysia Wirhan"]

 

[Dionysia Wirhan]

Her lip briefly curled in a half-grin at his returning sally. Corrin was a bit rigid; the last thing they needed was a Mand'alor who took his rightful place and forgot that he was once one of them. They needed a leader, not another self-absorbed di'kut with self-confidence issues. Sia hadn't had time enough yet to tell if Corrin's inflexibility about himself would mean trouble down the line, so she felt it was good for him to get needled every now and again. Based on the change in his attitude any time she used an endearment, she thought he might not agree. Well, he would get used to her eventually-- or would try to kill her. That would be an interesting competition.

His commentary sank her back into a more professional mindset. The galaxy had no respect for anything they could make a profit on. No matter who wound up Mand'alor, they couldn't fix every planet in that regard, but Sia would be damned if she wouldn't do something to help correct the natural order.

"It's a shame that we can't even have a traditional hunt without the impact of aruetii overshadowing it." In many ways, they were destroying traditional Mando'ade culture with every avarice-fuelled decision they made.

At Corrin's inquiry, Sia withdrew one of the two durasteel beskade hanging from her belt. "Two beskar-edged beskade, a kal, Deece, beskar-tipped spear, and a flashbang." If we need more than one flashbang, we won't be doing it right. She re-sheathed the blade and turned toward the speeders, talking over her shoulder. "If he's already riled from the mating season, it will make for a more interesting hunt. I'll follow your lead." This was, after all, his quest. She would aid him, keep him from getting killed when the bull rampaged, but he would be the one to deliver the killing blow; that she could not-- would not-- take from him. As she mounted one of the speeders, she reached up to tie back her hair, smirking at him as she did so.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

He really needed to learn the nuances of using a beskad in combat. Sure, he knew how to use the weapon like a traditional machete, but there were other uses in the middle of battle. The modern beskad were often designed to help put down force sensitives in close quarters combat. Corrin was not sure he would be able to use such a weapon to its full potential -- not yet anyway. Instead, he stuck to the lightsaber his clan had claimed from the Jedi Temple during operation Knightfall. It was an ancient, and culturally significant weapon. It was proof that the Tal'verda had their hand in the slaughter, somewhat, though they were not there simply to kill Jedi.

He'd heard the stories of his father and uncle's struggle that day. The weapon they recovered belonged to an old friend -- one who had been killed by a wayward clone soldier. Corrin kept it both as a trophy, and a defensive weapon. Unlike the beskad, he knew how to put it to good use.

"Those are some fancy toys," he quipped, "I plan to have one of the forge men craft me a beskad from this dragon's teeth. Care to teach me how to use it?" There was both challenge, and an actual question in his words. He needed to know how to handle an opponent with a traditional Mandalorian weapon; the spears were nice, but a beskad was a far better choice.

He slung one leg over his speeder bike, and set his helmet on his head. It was standard Mandalorian make: T-shaped visor, black paint rimmed lined with the Tal'verda blue, and an advanced HUD that linked to Sia's. It would save him from a concussion if the dragon knocked him around too hard, at the very least.

"The beast keeps its lair not far from here. We'll have to be careful with the mines. There's no way we can take the monster down with it at its full strength."

The speeder's engine revved. He tossed her a smile, though it went and unseen, and sped off.

[member="Dionysia Wirhan"]

 

[Dionysia Wirhan]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

"I look forward to that weapon," she replied. A dragon's tooth beskad would be as much an bragging piece as a combat-capable weapon. Depending on the craftsman, she had no doubt it would be a piece of beauty as well; the design of a beskad was already built for beauty as well as utility, in her opinion. She was endlessly fond of her own beskad. Her father had taught her to use them before his passing, and their exclusive training time held some of her fondest memories of him. Sometimes she wondered if that was part of her preference for them, but it ultimately didn't matter: she enjoyed using them and used them to her advantage at every opportunity. Eventually, she would get both done in actual beskar. It never hurt to have a weapon that could fully combat a lightsaber. "I think I can spare the time to show you proper technique once it's crafted, but we should get the material before we plan out its uses."

She held her own helmet for a moment longer than he, considering her new ally, lost in thoughts of her own. She only slipped it on as he turned to glance back at her and took off, and then leaned forward and revved her own speeder to life, darting off after him.

True to his word, the trip wasn't long, only a mile or so from their landing zone. The signs of an adult Krayt's lair were readily visible to the zoom on her helmet once they got close enough: gouged marks from its claws, trampled ground, bones. Sia slowed her speeder to a stop beside Corrin's and dismounted, eyes fixed on the lair.

"Do you have a plan for the approach, or will we knock and wait for it to answer?" Glancing between her speeder and the lair, she picked up her spear, hefting its weight in her grip in preparation.

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Knocking seemed like a fine idea. Unfortunately, Krayt Dragons did not always take kindly to solicitors. It seemed their pseud-shoe sails would have to be exchanged form something more subtle. They would not have the time to planet the mines otherwise.

He dismounted the speeder halfheartedly. Corrin was scared: terrified even. Krayt Dragons were true monsters; large enough to take down and make a dinner of a Rancor, and mean enough to have people abandon entire settlements. Taking one down was a rare thing indeed, and all the two Mandalorians had was one another. He supposed that would be enough. Swallowing his fear, Corrin strolled closer to the mouth of the monster's layer. He hopped over the bones of massive animals, likely banthas, and made sure to walk close to the dunes. For all they knew, the dragon could be watching them, waiting for the time to strike.

Fortunately, his helmet was pressure locked. He could talk to Sia in full volume, and no one outside their private frequency would hear a word.

"Knocking might work," ​he mused, subverting his own private thoughts, "I'm afraid we'll be its dinner if we kick the door down. Boba is legendary for surviving the Sarlaac, but I don't think I want to be known for passing through a Krayt and surviving."

Not that there's any chance I would survive that.

"I'm placing the mines Sia. If it charges, distract it. Use your feminine wiles, or something."

The would be Mand'alor snickered at his own joke. It paid to have a bit of humor in situations such as this. It served to hide his fear. He needed to face that anxiety; overcome it.

After all, what threat did soldiers, Jedi, and Sith pose after you had taken down one of the galaxy's greatest horrors with little more than a rifle, a few spears, and a good partner?

Nothing.

With a thin-lipped smile, Corrin settled about thirty paces from the cavern mouth. He could smell the sickly sweet scent of rotting flesh just beyond the darkness. It seemed the Krayt had found itself a snack. That might buy them a bit of time.

Drawing in a deep breath, Corrin set to the job of placing one frag mine after the other in a straight line from the cavern mouth. They would not kill it, but he did expect to see some serious wounds. Enough to make their impossible task slightly more possible, anyway.

[member="Dionysia Wirhan"]

 

[Dionysia Wirhan]

The blonde offered Corrin a rude comment in Mando'a in exchange for his jibe at her feminine wiles, but the tone behind it was clearly facetious. In the past, she had entered battles filled with fear, but, as Corrin was doing, she had found ways to accommodate that fear without letting it rule her. One couldn't be a Mando, let alone a Mand'alor, without that skill.

Sia watched the cave entrance warily as Corrin went about placing the mines. There was not yet a stirring from the darkness beyond, but Sia wouldn't bet money on the dragon staying idle for long once he recognized intruders in his territory. It would be a matter of stealth to give themselves at least enough time to get the area set as they needed it before engaging the enormous beast in combat.

Around the time she was watching Corrin cautiously set the fourth mine, Sia heard a faint sound, a cross between a growl and a gurgle, and her body tensed. The corresponding hiss of scales on rock had her darting into the dragon's arena with spear in hand even as it burst from its cave, murderous eyes dead set on Corrin.

"Par Wirhan!" She screamed, launching the spear with a powerful throw at the dragon's head. It drove home in the monster's neck, but didn't have the force needed to do much more than penetrate the thick hide. The beast let out a short cry of rage and surprise at the unexpected pain and whipped its head around to charge at the greater immediate threat, jolting the spear loose as it did so. Sia ran backwards away from its thunderous pursuit, and then rolled aside as the dragon got too close. She felt the wake of its attempted snap at her and the pull as the tip of a tooth caught on and tore her leather leggings. As she came to her feet and drew her weapons, watching the dragon wheel back around with an uncanny agility for something of its size, she felt the fabric hanging loose, still attached but useless now, a patch of her calf exposed. It screamed a challenge as it came at her, rows of sharp teeth exposed for the open-mouthed bellow, but she held her ground, waiting for the opportune moment. Too early or too late could spell disaster for her and the mission. Just as the dragon got close enough that she was within reach, the female Mandalorian spun aside, again narrowly avoiding a fatal bite. Her beskad caught the afternoon light blindingly and flashed as she brought them up to slash at the dragon's shoulder as it passed her by, twisting one blade up to deflect the krayt's teeth as it snapped its head back for another attempt. She turned to face it as it sinuously twisted its body and struck out with a back foot, taking the brunt of it on her crossed beskad and finding the force was enough to knock her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, knocking aside a strike of its foot and dancing back out of range, just trying to keep distance between them.

At present, Sia could not do much more than keep it distracted and at bay until she had a partner to coordinate with. All her focus was on single-handedly preventing herself from dying.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

The Krayt was enormous. Corrin had heard tales of their massive size, but he'd always attributed the tales to fear. It seemed that was not the case. He began to fumble about as he desperately primed the charges on each of the mines, his fingers drifting clumsily across each the explosives' smooth surfaces. It should have only taken him a few seconds to accomplish, but the massive creature's roars alone were enough to bring about his anxiety. He trusted Sia to keep it a bay, but what if she couldn't? These creatures slaughtered entire settlements on their own. A single woman, Mando'ade or not, could not hope to keep such a beast away for long.

Luckily she wouldn't have to. The charges final mine's light turned a bright led to indicate it was ready for use. Corrin stuffed it half a foot below the sand, and turned toward the monstrous Krayt. They couldn't fight that thing on their feet; it would outrun them with ease. They needed the speeders, but first they needed to cripple the beast.

"Picked the wrong fight big guy."

A hand fell to his Deece, and the assault rifle made a quiet whirring noise as it came to life. Without giving it much thought, Corrin fired a sustained burst at the Krayt's hind leg. A single shot would do nothing. Two or three might sting. Twenty? That could cause a little bit of damage. The monster's scaled melted and the skin warped beneath. It was a small wound, one it could easily ignore, but it certainly hurt.

The Krayt tuned its enormous head, easily the size of a small landspeeder on its own, and let forth a roar that made Corrin's stomach flip on itself. Then it charged -- right in the path of the mines. Corrin stood his ground, ejecting the magazine and replacing it with another.

"Grab the speeders, and bring them around. We can't fight this thing on foot," he half-ordered-half-shouted at Sia. The Krayt was coming at him fast, and even with the mines in its path, there was little that could be done to stop it.

[member="Dionysia Wirhan"]