Private R&R Mando Style

[Jhira Mereel]

St. Elmo’s Fire on Spotify
Growin' up, you don't see the writing on the wall
Passin' by, movin' straight ahead, you knew it all
But maybe sometime if you feel the pain
You'll find you're all alone, everything has changed


Have Fun

Political region: Wild Space, just outside of CIS space, at the tail end of the Corellian Run.
LOCATION: Lamaro System, planet of Lamaredd, and the Reef.
Event:: The Reef Run
Objective: Meet Aselia Verd. Race through Asteroid fields with Jet Pack. Drink.
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack | Beskar’gam | Weapon load out
Tags: [ Aselia Verd ]


Here at the end of the Corellian Run, a motley group of aces and mechanics have gathered. The planet of Lamaredd was a good to pick up credits, if you were a bit short, and an even better place to hear rumors and gather information. But that wasn’t the main draw, here.

No, the purpose for this gathering glittered in the skies above them, a near-white glory that streaked the skies even during the day. But here? Now? The moonless sky glowed with an asteroid belt as formidable and glorious as any in the galaxy, casting ghostly shadows of starlight that danced and shimmered around them.

Jhira Mereel lounged with careless grace, watching the assorted racers and onlookers ooh and aww at the odd, motley collection of vehicles brought out to meet this challenge. Most were home brewed, created by the racer or a good friend. No major corporations, no interstellar powers. Just people; individuals here to test their skill and courage. There weren’t many rules; single occupant vehicles only, no hyper drives, don’t shoot each other. Crashing into your opponents was fair, though, as long as you rescued them later.

Oh, and don’t steal someone else’s colors. A grin flashed behind her T-Visor, as a Rodian and a human faced off over a truly horrid blend orange and pink. When the yelling escalated to shoving, Jhira recovered from her lean and moved on. No need for her to ruin someone else’s fun. A few swoop bikes modded for space were here, a couple of deployment vehicles from small-time, single-world navies looking to find a way to get half-trained farmers into battle faster.

A pain ripped through her, as she stoped to examine a clever modification of discontinued escape pods. A small, wiry man in a local, planetary-navy boiler suit. Life could be so very harsh, on the edges of the Wild Space. But the new Hapu Hybrid Antimatter Power Unit offered such a wide-ranging, low cost source of power that it threatened to change the way of life all along the Outer Rim. “Not bad,” she said approvingly. “Long lasting power, lots of air. What did you do for maneuverability?”

The Chief Petty Officer flicked opened the back part of the pod, and nodded doubtfully at his innovation. “Took the directional thruster and auxiliary miniature oxygen tank from an AT-MP Mining Vehicle, only wired the oxy tank to re-fuel from the antimatter unit.”

“That’ll give you what, 10 minutes of intense maneuverability?” Enough to actually pilot around debris, rather than slamming helplessly into them, when evacuating a ship or station. Jhira leaned in a bit closer, her HUD analyzing the flow-patterns and possible maneuvers.​

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[Aselia Verd]

Equipment: Lightsaber | Aselia's Beskargam | Full Equipment List
Tag: Jhira Mereel

Spoiler: Mood Music

Aselia was half out of her beskar as she crawled partway into the engine of her fang starfighter, the fighter outside was pristine, clearly well cared for. Inside however the engine needed a little bit of tender loving care in as much as a Mandalorian was capable of. Lucky for her fighter she was more than just a Mandalorian.

A laugh echoed from the fighter as she found the problem one of the repulsors had worked its way loose from the fighter's assembly, well hidden under the engine it was easy to miss. Satisfied she started putting the fighter back together and finally crawled out of the engine compartment.

Aselia didn't fit the normal description of a Mandalorian, she was a beautiful young woman with long strawberry blonde hair, though at the moment she was covered in engine grease and dirt, and she began wiping herself down to clean up nearby a couple of rodians were watching her with keen interest. She simply rolled her eyes at them. "Race hasn't started boys, put your eyes back in their sockets or I'll shoot them out myself."

She finished wiping up with the towel and threw the greasy rag at one of them before she started strapping on her beskar, ten seconds that is how long they had. By the time she pulled on the chest armor, they realized more or less who they were dealing with especially when they saw the ram's crest on her armor and they both started running away. "That's what I thought" she finished placing her gauntlets back on and by the time she reached for her buy'ce they were long gone.

Reaching up she tied up her hair since it had worked its way loose and pulled on the buy'ce over the brightly colored hair. Fully clad in beskar once again, she reattached her srusu'yur to her armor's backplate the long crimson cloth accentuating the black and silver armor. To most, it would like your average beskar but to the keen eye, it was far more. Breshig's finest work in her opinion admittedly she was biased though.

 

[Jhira Mereel]

Play the game, you know you can't quit until it's won
Soldier on, only you can do what must be done
You know in some way you're a lot like me
You're just a prisoner and you're tryin' to break free



Have Fun

Political region: Wild Space, just outside of CIS space, at the tail end of the Corellian Run.
LOCATION: Lamaro System, planet of Lamaredd, and the Reef.
Event:: The Reef Run
Objective: Meet Aselia Verd. Race through Asteroid fields with Jet Pack. Drink.
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack | Beskar’gam | Weapon load out
Tags: [ Aselia Verd ]

A pair of Rodians took off at a run, jostling the crowd and drawing a mild threat assessment from Jhira’s Tac-Comp. Leaning away from the innovative pod she’d been inspecting, Jhira saw a red-haired Mandalorian just buttoning up her helmet. Mandalorians were rare, way out here. But she seemed both fine, and purposeful in her movements. Turning away, Jhira was about to get back to inspecting the custom ships here, when her Breshig Sragivagr Control Suite detected a Kartayl System, and requested to sync up.

So Jhira turned once more, studying the exquisite amor striding through the gathered misfits. No expense had been spared upon the custom made Breshig kit. Flawless, every component new add purpose made for the job. Shoulder mounts, weapons, and especially the Shevla Gteditr Rocket Pack drew careful, delighted contemplation. But what drew the longest inspection from Jhira were the gauntlet load-outs. Familiar, very familiar. Had the Ramikad’alor himself aided in this suit’s design? Drawn to investigate, Jhira pushed away from the wall, and maneuvered the intercept the Mando’ad.

A long crimson cloak flared behind the warrior, framing a ram’s head sigil.

House Verd, once again.

Slipping her own helmet off, dark, antique bronze eyes were lightened with a touch of humor. Most Mandalorians were tall enough that at 5’10, Jhira was considered petite. This warrior was inches shorter still. There was something utterly satisfying in the notion she’d run off two Rodians with no more than a glower and a dirty rag.

A walking contraction, Jhira’s Beskar’gam was most certainly custom-made and exquisitely well maintained. Yet it was obviously the work of a dozen different mechanics, companies and techs. Scattered bits and pieces scrounged from battles, derelicts and disreputable vendors were cleverly adapted and turned into something greater than the sum of its parts. Jaig eyes adorned her helmet, and a mythosaur skull covered her heart, the Iron Heart a shield in the fashion of the True Mandalorians. A keen observer might notice a small seal with Clan Mereel’s sigil overlaid with the image of a curled scroll upon one pauldron; Kot, Ijaat, Verburyc, Kyr’am,* (Strength, Honor, Loyal(ty), Death) are painstakingly engraved in the Mandalorian script upon the other. Luxuriously thick true-black hair was tightly bound, framing a classically beautiful face, remarkably untouched by sunlight or fist.

That, and the tilted smile. “Nice work on the Rodians, vod.” a beat passed. “I’m Jhira Mereel.”

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[Aselia Verd]

Equipment: Lightsaber | Aselia's Beskargam | Full Equipment List
Tag: Jhira Mereel

A voice speaking Mando'a drew her attention. The young woman turned to look at who had spoken to her, the heads-up display in her visor began cycling through House Verds data on all the Mandalorians. Within seconds she had a confirmed match on her display Mereel. She didn't know much about them but suffice it to say they had been flagged as friendly.

"Just street trash vod. All you need to do is remind them that we are warriors. Sometimes that is a stern warning, other times it's as subtle as a pointed stare." she grinned behind her helmet and extended a gauntleted hand to the woman. "Aselia. House Verd"

"It's good to see another of our numbers here. I am usually the only one coming to things like this. I tend to get bored sitting around too long. My buir tries to keep me busy for just that reason" she laughed. If Jhira knew her history and anything of the former Vicelord she would know Aselia was his adoptive daughter from Clan Viszla whom he had saved from the misguided force purges of the United Clans of Mandalore as a young child. That however was a sore topic to broach with the red-haired Mandalorian.

"Are you here to race or just spectate?" it was as much a query as it was a challenge, if she were to have a fellow Mandalorian as an opponent things were certainly getting more interesting.

 

[Jhira Mereel]

St. Elmo's Fire on Spotify

Have Fun

Political region: Wild Space, just outside of CIS space, at the tail end of the Corellian Run.
LOCATION: Lamaro System, planet of Lamaredd, and the Reef.
Event:: The Reef Run
Objective: Race through Asteroid fields with Jet Pack. Drink.
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack | Beskar'gam | Weapon load out
Tags: [ Aselia Verd ]

House Verd.

No Clan specified, so … Clan Verd, too.

Jhira's grip was firm, but not testing. Her on-board HUD was desperately trying to run down facts upon the red-head. Not much came through; something about the so disappointing Isley Verd, the Sithalorian who had stepped aside when asked, instead of murdering people. His reaction still bothered Jhira; either she misunderstood Sith or he had a deeper plot in mind. Almost, she asked his daughter; yet Jhira had a feeling most people immediately dismissed Aselia herself in favor of talking of her father, and Jhira wasn't willing to do that.

While the information upon Jhira was both sparse and contradictory, that was less due to any deep laid plan than simply having missed most of the greater Mandalorian politics that had so scarred Aselia herself. Aselia turned the conversation to the absent Sith Lord, and Jhira's fierce laughter won free. "He can run the whole CIS but not keep you out of trouble, hmm?"

The Reef glowed overhead like spilled diamonds, beckoning with alluring danger. Jhira let her gaze settle there for a bit, in answer to the challenge in Aselia's voice. "Race, of course race …" Anticipation and a touch of recklessness shimmered through the softly murmured words. "I have tech to test out."

Her smile flashed once more at Aselia before fitting her helmet back on. A graceful gesture at the assembled vehicles followed. "What are you racing?"​

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