Public Nal hutta | swamped with work

[Cremek candorus]

Boy what a cycle. First taking the fight to a jedi on some backwater planets cantina, now being directed to this damned swamp planet that felt like a damned sauna with its rains, could cremek ever catch a break? He awkwardly made his way through the marsh, this damned relic better had been worth it, his fellow "scholars" of the dark side of the force had laid the duty of seeking such items and sequestering them away from the jedi shadows and their ilk, who took pleasure in erasing history, as if it would never repeat itself again, "hah, fat chance.." to him. The waxy hot rains pelted cremeks breastplate, washing away the mud as he made his way through the marsh and into a clearing, "here..".

And there it was, crashed, half buried, but still sticking up defiantly. An icon of a fallen age, an age of sidious, grand empire, cruise liner. Standing like an oasis in this swampy hellscape of a planet. Cremek entered through the old engine with almost religious reverence for the history of this liner, a damned miracle the swamp had not consumed this piece of history, he ran his hand along the cruiser, this was from an age where his kind watched over the galaxy as its TRUE guardians, where everything was orderly.. right.. the dark jedi would truly enter the derelict ship, but today, he was not a sorcerer, but a historian, a retriever of history, so it may never be forgotten, nor forgiven.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

Boy what a cycle. First taking the fight to a jedi on some backwater planets cantina, now being directed to this damned swamp planet that felt like a damned sauna with its rains, could cremek ever catch a break? He awkwardly made his way through the marsh, this damned relic better had been worth it, his fellow "scholars" of the dark side of the force had laid the duty of seeking such items and sequestering them away from the jedi shadows and their ilk, who took pleasure in erasing history, as if it would never repeat itself again, "hah, fat chance.." to him. The waxy hot rains pelted cremeks breastplate, washing away the mud as he made his way through the marsh and into a clearing, "here..".

And there it was, crashed, half buried, but still sticking up defiantly. An icon of a fallen age, an age of sidious, grand empire, cruise liner. Standing like an oasis in this swampy hellscape of a planet. Cremek entered through the old engine with almost religious reverence for the history of this liner, a damned miracle the swamp had not consumed this piece of history, he ran his hand along the cruiser, this was from an age where his kind watched over the galaxy as its TRUE guardians, where everything was orderly.. right.. the dark jedi would truly enter the derelict ship, but today, he was not a sorcerer, but a historian, a retriever of history, so it may never be forgotten, nor forgiven.

Come all this way and the wrench, kark it to feth, wouldn't bite. Nal Hutta had its beauties, to be sure. Swamps could be lovely. Just not when they were mucking up your favorite old tools.

Jorus rubbed gunk off the stubborn bolt with the corner of his shirt. Fifteen more bolts like this — if the hyperdrive motivator was a mark 2.5a under the gunk in question — and he'd be free and clear. These motivators had legs, even after nine hundred years or thereabouts. The component might fit half a dozen of the unfinished projects in Jorus' back yard.

He fit the wrench back to the dubiously clean bolt — and froze mid-yank. A squeal of old metal cut itself off, reverberating through the guts of the swampy shipwreck.

There was a man in here, a man in armor. Jorus hadn't seen him coming.

The old salvager wet his lips nervously and froze there with the wrench on the bolt.

"Uh...evening," he said to Cremek candorus

 

[Cremek candorus]

Cremek gazed at the old man ( Jorus Q. Merrill ) for a moment, the mandalorian turning to look at him, of course annoying flies were picking at this corpse for its meat, who wouldn't? was the dark wanderer not guilty of the same thing himself? and old men were hardly a fitting foe to claim to kill, slaughtering the old and meek were big no-nos in mandalorian society, thus cremek had no intention to butcher the fossil unless he wasn't given a choice.

with a small nod of his head, his voice hidden behind a modulator in his helmet, he spoke.

"evening elder."

his signature katana shaped saber was hidden under his cloak, which also hid his arms, cascading gently to his feet, ready to slice his apart in atra-manua if there need be.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

Cremek gazed at the old man ( Jorus Q. Merrill ) for a moment, the mandalorian turning to look at him, of course annoying flies were picking at this corpse for its meat, who wouldn't? was the dark wanderer not guilty of the same thing himself? and old men were hardly a fitting foe to claim to kill, slaughtering the old and meek were big no-nos in mandalorian society, thus cremek had no intention to butcher the fossil unless he wasn't given a choice.

with a small nod of his head, his voice hidden behind a modulator in his helmet, he spoke.

"evening elder."

his signature katana shaped saber was hidden under his cloak, which also hid his arms, cascading gently to his feet, ready to slice his apart in atra-manua if there need be.

Elder. Truth be told, Jorus never got used to the word, or words like it. He still felt like the same man he'd always been, just a little more fond of arthritis liniments and a little more careful with cheese.

Since violence didn't appear imminent, he eased the wrench off the bolt and slowly stuck it back in his tool belt. A wrench could be a good weapon, and that wasn't a signal he wanted to send. Once the wrench was stowed, he kept his hands open and relaxed and in plain sight. As a general rule, you never gave a Mandalorian the idea that you were a threat unless you meant to see it through, right to the hilt.

"Su'cuy gar," he said with a terrible accent. The greeting was just about all the mando'a he remembered, just something he'd picked up on the road. "I'm salvaging, but I'm not claiming the whole ship, just bits and pieces. Plenty of room for the both of us. What brings you here?"

 

[Cremek candorus]

Elder. Truth be told, Jorus never got used to the word, or words like it. He still felt like the same man he'd always been, just a little more fond of arthritis liniments and a little more careful with cheese.

Since violence didn't appear imminent, he eased the wrench off the bolt and slowly stuck it back in his tool belt. A wrench could be a good weapon, and that wasn't a signal he wanted to send. Once the wrench was stowed, he kept his hands open and relaxed and in plain sight. As a general rule, you never gave a Mandalorian the idea that you were a threat unless you meant to see it through, right to the hilt.

"Su'cuy gar," he said with a terrible accent. The greeting was just about all the mando'a he remembered, just something he'd picked up on the road. "I'm salvaging, but I'm not claiming the whole ship, just bits and pieces. Plenty of room for the both of us. What brings you here?"

"Su'cuy gar" he responded, his dialect far smoother, as befits a native speaker, perhaps it was worth speaking to this fossil after all... it's not like the old man knew his true nature or intentions.

he pondered a moment, deciding if it was worth telling the old man.. before coming to a decision.
"i'm just a collector, looking for the bridge, just wish for data, you can have the rest of the ship for all I care."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Su'cuy gar" he responded, his dialect far smoother, as befits a native speaker, perhaps it was worth speaking to this fossil after all... it's not like the old man knew his true nature or intentions.

he pondered a moment, deciding if it was worth telling the old man.. before coming to a decision.
"i'm just a collector, looking for the bridge, just wish for data, you can have the rest of the ship for all I care."

Now, truth be told, in Jorus' long (long) past Jedi days, he'd never been much of a Jedi. No lifting rocks, no mind tricks, limited senses for anything that wasn't hyperspace-related. But up close and personal, even he was capable of getting a bad feeling about this.

Also, that was absolutely a lightsaber of some kind built into one of the Mando's gauntlets.

Experience and instinct strongly suggested that Jorus leave. But they didn't suggest a route. Most of the best ways off this wrecked ship were through the engine block where the Mando had come in.

Jorus pointed up, in the general direction of the bridge. "Feel free," he said, voice a little more wavery than he'd prefer. "Easy to reach the bridge; I was up there before. Didn't take anything, though," he added hastily, and not entirely honestly.

 

[Cremek candorus]

Now, truth be told, in Jorus' long (long) past Jedi days, he'd never been much of a Jedi. No lifting rocks, no mind tricks, limited senses for anything that wasn't hyperspace-related. But up close and personal, even he was capable of getting a bad feeling about this.

Also, that was absolutely a lightsaber of some kind built into one of the Mando's gauntlets.

Experience and instinct strongly suggested that Jorus leave. But they didn't suggest a route. Most of the best ways off this wrecked ship were through the engine block where the Mando had come in.

Jorus pointed up, in the general direction of the bridge. "Feel free," he said, voice a little more wavery than he'd prefer. "Easy to reach the bridge; I was up there before. Didn't take anything, though," he added hastily, and not entirely honestly.

the mandalorian only tilted his head, the man was uneasy, he could feel it, why?...

interesting...

"as long as you didnt take the data within the bridge, then you can have whatever you wish, if you did take it, I see no reason we cannot bargain and trade for it."

he casually motioned his hand in goodwill.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

the mandalorian only tilted his head, the man was uneasy, he could feel it, why?...

interesting...

"as long as you didnt take the data within the bridge, then you can have whatever you wish, if you did take it, I see no reason we cannot bargain and trade for it."

he casually motioned his hand in goodwill.

There had, in fact, been a datapad. Jorus had snagged it because he liked those old datapads and wanted to see if he could get it operational. It was in his toolbelt right now, nestled against his right hip beside a small hold-out blaster.

Too much about this could go sideways.

"Well, I did find a datapad up there," he said, contradicting himself. "I've got it right here. It's yours if you want it, I just liked the case."

So he'd lied a little a minute ago, so what? Better reveal that than keep lying. His brain felt foggy. He just wanted to get back to unbolting the hyperdrive motivator, but if he made it out of the next few minutes with his skin intact, no way was he hanging around to undo sixteen-ish more bolts.

 

[Cremek candorus]

There had, in fact, been a datapad. Jorus had snagged it because he liked those old datapads and wanted to see if he could get it operational. It was in his toolbelt right now, nestled against his right hip beside a small hold-out blaster.

Too much about this could go sideways.

"Well, I did find a datapad up there," he said, contradicting himself. "I've got it right here. It's yours if you want it, I just liked the case."

So he'd lied a little a minute ago, so what? Better reveal that than keep lying. His brain felt foggy. He just wanted to get back to unbolting the hyperdrive motivator, but if he made it out of the next few minutes with his skin intact, no way was he hanging around to undo sixteen-ish more bolts.

it took all cremek had to not just kill him right then and there.. lies.. they filled him with an unchained fury that few could match, even sith, but he manages to choke down the bile for now, he would look at the datapad, this was indeed what he was looking for! good!

he pockets the datapad, before grabbing something, he tossed him some credits, it wasn't much, enough to probably buy the old man a drink when he returned to civilization.

"for your troubles."

he turned on his heel.

"I have nothing further, I will leave you to your scavenging old man."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

it took all cremek had to not just kill him right then and there.. lies.. they filled him with an unchained fury that few could match, even sith, but he manages to choke down the bile for now, he would look at the datapad, this was indeed what he was looking for! good!

he pockets the datapad, before grabbing something, he tossed him some credits, it wasn't much, enough to probably buy the old man a drink when he returned to civilization.

"for your troubles."

he turned on his heel.

"I have nothing further, I will leave you to your scavenging old man."

The wave of relief that swept through Jorus was a shameful thing. Pocketing the credits felt even worse, because it came complete with a spark of craven gratitude that flashed back to a poor childhood on Corellia, the better part of a century ago. "Thankya, sir," said Jorus, and was embarrassed all over again to find that, in some small way, he meant it. Was this how Darksiders' lackeys felt all the time?

As the Mando left this particular corner of the wreck, Jorus wiped his forehead with a rag. He patted the hyperdrive motivator. "Another time, bub," he said to the equipment. Best to make some distance from here and come back tomorrow. Well, maybe the day after.

Those coins jangled and rustled accusingly in the pocket of his threadbare pants, right under the faded Corellian Bloodstripe, all the way to the exit.

He slipped off the edge of the engine nozzle. His boots splatted into the muck.

His ship these days was an unusually and informally procured Black Dragon Imperial dropship. He'd stowed it in a patch of trees not far off, draped with the local slime moss. Two minutes on foot and he'd be out of here.

Or, maybe, have some more interesting options. Maybe a shot at dignity, that most overrated of commodities.

 

[Cremek candorus]

With that, cremek made his way back to his transport, prize in hand, he hated being on this planet, he got what he wanted, and performed the age old art of
"gtfo"
lifting off and flying to his next destination, wherever that is.

---

thread end?