Private Morning Air

[Bright1]

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GOOD MORNING FOR A RUN​

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Location: Dressel, Undefined Mountain Range.

Tatiana had missed this, the outdoors, and vigorous exercise that she was adapted to. It was better than those indoor gyms that so many were into using now a days, not the same as feeling the wind and exhaustion eating away at your body. So for that reason, she began her run up the mountain side, her rifle held on her shoulders, just as a little bit of extra fun. Her gear was left onboard her ship, knowing it was well protected, no one would be getting into her ship until she got back.

Pushing up the trial, sweat accumulated on her body, her breathing evenly paced, though even for as good as shape as she was in, the Mandalorian was reaching the end of her endurance for the time being. She had been jogging for the last two hours, something she tried to take a bit of pride in. She was only willing to accept this due to the shift in altitude making it more difficult to breath, but she still expected better from herself. Regardless, it was a tranquil experience, being so far away from things she hated, her responsibilities. It was pleasant.

She was nearing the end of her journey however, as from her observations, she was nearing the top of the cliff, and with it she could enjoy a moment of rest before moving back down the hillside. If nothing else, she had put some good time in for conditioning.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Dressel was one of a tiny handful of worlds that could still claim neutrality between the CIS and the Silvers. It was maintained as something of an independent border state as far as Cedric could tell, a stretch space between the two great powers to serve as a pressure valve when required. It was a world he would have well ignored, were it not for its unique position. There was a small Ashlan minority within the CIS, and the vast majority of them were keen on responding to the crusade's call. Smuggling them halfway across the galaxy had proven to be a difficult task, but Dressel was the perfect middleground for refugees to slip into Silver space unnoticed.

He'd come to this place to monitor the refugee camps and make sure the transports were moving smoothly. When he'd arrived, he found most of the transport operation under the control of a Houk with a tendency toward violence and exploitation. The alien and his cohorts had been dealt with quickly, most of them losing a limb or two as the Ashlans locked them away to stand trial.

Cedric would be leaving soon enough, but his shuttle still wasn't due for a day or so. Stranded and admittedly bored, the Jedi exile had taken toward the mountains that bordered the sea by his lonesome. He lingered at the peak of one of the taller rock formations, his legs folded beneath him and his hands resting on his knees as he communed with the empyrean.

A brow was lofted as a new presence, this one wholly undefined, made itself know. He slowly rose from his feet, his head tilting as he eyed the woman. For his part, Cedric was clad in the armor and vestments of his station, his expression hidden by the golden helmet that protected him should any more bounty hunters pay an unexpected visit.

"Well," his arms folded behind the small of his back. "I was not expecting any visitors. Hello there."

Bright1

 

[Bright1]

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STRANGER DANGER​

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Her jog came to a rather sudden halt as she found an unknown form up ahead, armored, and seemingly waiting in contemplation, it screamed set up to her. She fell into a short trot, stepping slowly towards the stranger, slowly unslung her rifle, but keeping it aimed towards the ground. The man, least she figured it to be a man, took no hostile action, though with his equipment it was hard to say what he was. He had robes on, but he didn't exactly seem like a jedi sort with all the armor on. Best to tread with caution, not given him any reason to fight her. "Wasn't expecting to see someone else on this trail either, hello there." She said, echoes of worry emanating from within her as she slowly stepped towards the man, her weapon still angled away from him.

She set the rifle down, figuring if the man wished to instigate battle with her, he would have done so by now; and if he did, she'd figure out how to best him, somehow. She would find a purchase on the ridge, wishing to look upon the world down below as well. Perhaps he had merely come here to get a good view of the planet, though that wasn't her reason for being here, she figured she'd take a moment to reflect before setting back down the trail. "I'm Tatiana, of Clan Ordo." She nodded, glancing to the stranger, her eyes looking him over once more for a sign of weaponry. "Not many would take the long way up here, just a fan of the scenery?" She inquired, her arms crossed, feeling a tad cold now as the sweat she had built up made her vulnerable to the cooler air here.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The rifle was eyed warily, though his expression was hidden by the iron visage of his mask. He supposed he did look a tad bit threatening clad in armor as he was. The exile drew in a deep breath, and exiled slowly as she approached, his presence in the empyrean reaching out to get the woman's measure. The energies of the beyond swirled about her as they did with the apprentices back in the temple, but where they were colored with serenity and purpose, this one was far less tempered.

"Truth be told I wasn't either," he agreed, offering her a light shrug. "This planet is a stopping point if you're moving from the Confederacy to Silver Space, or vice versa. I'm overseeing a movement of refugees back in the city, though such a place is not conductive to meditation." He explained. "Which is why I've come here. I thought I would not be disturbed," the exile huffed a quiet laugh, distorted by his helmet's vocalizer. "That being said, you're most welcome here, and you won't have any need of that." He nodded toward her rifle.

The Jedi reached up to draw back his cowl, though he did not dare to remove the mask. "I am Cedric Grayson, master of the Jedi arts, though as of late I serve more as a politician than I do anything else." His arms folded over his chest, head tilting slightly to the right as he stared at the woman. "You're very far from home Mando'ade."

Bright1

 

[Bright1]

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JEDI ALERT​

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Lovely, she had stumbled into a fething jedi out here. Tatiana's face showed she wasn't pleased by this revelation, though she did put the rifle away. It wouldn't do either of them any good right now. He was there to watch over refuge migration, a waste of the man's combat abilities; assuming he had any. "I see, well, I had the same idea. Needed some cardio, so jogged up here. Didn't expect to find anyone. Let alone a jedi." She responded, shrugging her shoulders and faking a smile; it was hard to pretend she wasn't bothered.​

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The man drew back his cowl, perhaps trying to seem less mysterious, though given he didn't remove the mask, she assumed he had some sort of facial scarring. Would explain the mask and vocalizer. "Right, well, I'm Tatiana and I just run around doing jobs for credits, and friends. Short on both at the moment." She affirmed, her smile more genuine now, as she was finding the groove of which to speak with this man. That smile dropped as he mentioned home. She had no home. Hadn't for some time. "Mandalore is on fire, has been for some time. No where to go home to. Home right now is the ship I fly around on, and the beds I wake up in. That's the life for many of my clan, of my people. We are scattered in all corners of the galaxy now, much like the jedi I suppose." She remarked, unsure how true her words were, but she believed them none the less.​

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Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

There were doubts in the back of his mind about this one. The bounties placed upon his head by both Darth Solipsis and the Sith Empire were quite large, and neither required him alive. Many hunters had tried their hand at taking him in, or taking him down if that had suited them better, and almost all of them had worn the markings of the Mandalorians.

It was strange that they would do so, Cedric thought, given their recent relations with the Sith, but then the Mandalorians had ever hosted an impregnable culture. Why they did what they did was often as esoteric as the prophecies of the seers, or at times so simple as to seem crude. Either way, though he sensed displeasure from this one, he did not pick up on nay hostility.

Not yet anyway.

"Seems people are short on them these days. We live in untrustworthy and exceedingly violent times, Tatiana." He mused as he folded his hands behind the small of his back, and turned to observe the seas beyond the mountain's ridge. "Yes, the last I recall Mandalore was whole, I was still a teenager. Your people have been in chaos since the death of Ra Viszla. More particularly, since they aligned themselves with the Sith." It wasn't meant so much as a jab as it was an observation: a means to see where this Ordo stood on things. "Mandalore was quite prosperous during its partnership with the Jedi Order, as I recall. Looking back, those were golden years for both our peoples."

Bright1