The Mandalorian secret weapon Rancor brigade is very much indeed a glorious idea, had maybe the main aspect of the brigade probably not been, say…Rancors at all, with the species originating on Dathomir, where from also Nightsisters hail, domesticating the beasts.
Every girls' night out ought include a visit to the puppy park.
The Nightsisters chose a clearing to land away from the incessant boom of the Mandalorian mortars which are totally destroying the city! Observing their surroundings, they took notice that Hix Tribbul had taken to trailing after them. Their rare flight capability is not one promising prolonged endurance. There is nothing they could do but plant down.
“Well this is...unfamiliar territory.”
"A bump in the road," the Nightsisters whispered among themselves.
“It's not one fighting for the Emperor.”
As the coven set foot upon solid ground again they immediately revealed themselves as women of lovely faces, gliding motion, and tender voices, much like the persona of their Matriarch, not as the discorporated spirits of her ancestral Matriarchs at all which they happen to be, choosing Pom their living host to carry on their knowledge and Will.
“I see. I see. He is not. Neither is it often that anyone is found brave enough to approach us.”
“T’is very true, an age old common occurrence for us."
"For eons.”
"This is actually creepy."
The coven stood around their living Mistress to shield her from harm, each concentrated on generating and compounding their strengths to form a unified Force Barrier.
“What do we do?” They asked while peering over one another to take a gander at the approaching Mandalorian.
“We ask him what he is thinking, I suppose.”
"It can't be good!"
"That's not a very well thought out strategy."
"Alright. You've got?"
"So far that's the best and only, but poorly planned strategy."
"Note: attend military strategy lectures."
"Noted."
"Now THAT is a plan!"
Pom smiles lately at her coven sisters in appreciation before stepping between them to face the one brave enough to initiate first contact.
Pom nodded, acknowledging his presence, uncertain his motive as she is unable to view his eyes through his visor, yet she is not fearful of him. She trusts in her abilities to overcome obstacles as they are presented. ‘At least this is not Myrkr!’ she thought, where she just might trip up under the natural counter-spell capabilities of the Ysalamiri. She wondered if this tin man carries any such article as they provide on his person, but she figures if she is unprotected where she stands, her own coven shall certainly speak up without delay.