THE UNDEFEATED
"My name is Meta." He said, putting autopilot on. He detached his cloak from his armour and thrown it over his chair. The ship was small and confined, built for a small group of people. His armoury was directly left of the cockpit. There were several shelves of weapons and grenades and there were six lightsabers in a glass casing. One of them had a splatter of blood on it. There were four maulers and two gaffi sticks. A collection of blaster rifle and a single RPG and a couple thermal detonators and of course two damaged suits of armour. Meta detached the front piece of his armour, and then the back. Setting it down beside the rest of his armour pieces. Underneath were some sort of torn robes. They only covered the shoulders, and the majority of his back. Then taking off his gauntlets he left them beside the rest of his armour. His base chest felt cold, he ran his fingers across the scars on his chest. Then derobed, and looked around for a shirt.
@[member="Felicia Tannul"]
@[member="Felicia Tannul"]