Ijaat muttered as he shrugged into his duster and flared the collar a little bit, then tossed his poncho over his frame and settled his favorite hat onto his head. The DE-10's rode low in the gun-belt, his shotgun and blade in their accustomed places as well. This little errand wasn't worth putting on full beskar'gam really, but it did necessitate showing up and figuring out what the kark was going on. And if it came down to it, well... He was pretty much always ready to fight since Selvaris, and his abilities were less obvious than beskar plating. The bandoleer holding the various grenades tight to his chest chafed a bit, and he spent a moment adjusting it, and noting the bronzium caps on his boots could use a buff and polish to get off some of the scrapes and scruffs. But that could come later, this errand wasn't such that it needed them now. No, just chasing some kids out of property and that was about it. He was supposed to go fishing today too, of all days for some punks to show up at a cave system just identified as having beskar within House Mereel territory.
Easing outside of the meeting locale, he nodded to the squad of House Mereel bodyguards, all outfitted in that ingenious new mandalorian steel that was spreading like wildfire. When they had begun to prove and distinguish themselves, maybe he'd tell someone to put them in beskar... But for the moment, the new metal more than sufficed, and the armor they were in was modulated to fit their individual styles and abilities. Ten strong, a unit just like the old Supercommando Codex advised, when he wasn't too busy lounging, he would pop out of nowhere to the training facility on his island and watch them train, or help train them himself. Promising men and women, each and every one of them. Not perhaps ones who would go down in fame and glory, but solid and dependable soldiers, the lot of them.
Approaching the campfire, he merely stepped inside the circle of the light from it, ignoring the beast he assumed was a Herglic. He had seen Mark III Dread Guard. Helped create and train them, briefly, on Mustafar and other places. The bulk and hulk was nothing more than an amusing reminder that people were constantly turning without to compensate for what they lacked within. Reaching up, he flicked his hat forward and tossed the butt of a cigarra into the fire and lit another, inhaling sharply as the flickering light shone across the t-visors of the squad following him. They were locked into transmitting back to some near the compound by Keldabe, which was supposed to be relaying to the Alor'e Council, because he was trying to play by the rules now-a-days. And besides, his authority to do this rested on their authority. He'd rather not tango with the roided out whale unless he had to. No sense in pushing and maybe breaking a sweat, after-all.
"Mind tellin me what a herglic and an Initiate is doing on my land, prepping for what looks like a raid to steal beskar I legally own? Downright disrespectful when a man my age is supposed to be retired, and instead has to come teach some young pup the ropes. Beskar ain't so common we can afford to just let it go freely like the old days. And I damned sure ain't armoring Willy the Whale here in the iron of my blood and people. Particularly when no one asked me first, kinda irritates a person, and old age has just made me even more irritable."
Drawing in another sharp inhale on the cigarra, he reached back a bit and clicked back both hammers on the sonic shotgun at his back and smiled as it began to charge with a high-pitched whine, right next to a lovely little concealed knife. A nasty business, that knife, and it would punch through even his enlarged friends armor. And he was sure of his speed against the beast, even Jedi struggled with that thanks to his foray out in the wild. So he smiled as his face was wreathed in blue grey smoke, and he slid the cigarra to the right-sided corner of his mouth, chewing it in place as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck a bit, speaking once more.
"So we'll make this real quick and easy. I am the greeting party. I am Ijaat Mereel, Aliit'buir of House Mereel, empowered by the Alor'e Council as one of it's members, typically en absentia. This ends here and now. Your friend there goes and gets in whatever he came here in and leaves. Or he gets into a pinebox and leaves. Doesn't bother me, I don't know him and so I don't care. You though miss... You however can take whatever you want. I have mining droids, trained smiths... You are welcome to their services, free of charge. But your friend, and any others not of our people, leave without a single ounce of this cave's contents. And they do so now. If not, then i'll have to inform the guards here of your decision, who will inform the Alor'e Council. And that will lead to very large bounties out for both of your capture if you should escape, and the capture of or death of anyone aiding you. It will also likely lead to a very much larger contingent of assorted mando'ade showing up here. And likely both of you rotting in a cell, or dead. Either way, at the end of all this, either you can come out with some beskar'gam, and your friend goes to his next contract, or you both wind up a non-issue, and at the end of both those roads, I go back to my beach and my daiquiris. Choice is yours. Speak and make it quick."
[member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Matreya"] | [member="Cynthia Garon"]
