Scouring the Moon

[Alkor Centaris]

A rattled XJ7 alighted on the moon's surface with all the gentility of a ton of bricks. Though the spaceport was heavily traveled and transmitted codes on an open frequency throughout the system, Alkor somehow doubted that his inability to prattle on in Mando'a would win him much favor with the locals. Though Basic seemed just as prominent with the Warrior Clans in most company, the reason that brought the Jen'jidai to Concordia would definitely not illicit a warm welcome.

It was precious ore that existed only in these systems and which could only be shaped by its smiths using a carefully guarded secret. Beskar it was called in their language, or Mandalorian Iron. Virtually indestructible and highly resistant to even the most deadly of blades, it was perfect for crafting armor and weaponry if you could manage to find someone capable of crafting it for you. Alkor knew no such smith, but he would worry over that aspect of the procedure once he managed to wrangle some of the rare metal to begin with.

The canopy of his snubfighter popped open and creaked upward with a hydraulic hiss. Alkor watched over the topographic readouts that his astromech laboriously took and offered up as his sensors sought any nearby lifeforms. It would not do to have to fight off anyone if he could help it. Deep and rhythmic beeps registered as a nearby, previously stripped mining site was identified by the HoloNet. Though it would yield none of its spoils to him, the possibility of a nearby cache was probable.

Alkor synchronized his datapad with the information so that he would receive consistent updates as the computer found more, though he knew all of the information would be relatively archaic and updated by people who had managed to get onto the moon and leave with their lives. Mandalorians were not exactly forthcoming with that kind of data.

Which meant that this particular site was more than likely several decades old, and he was in prime position to be caught before he ever found any Beskar. It was a risk he would have to deal with.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"I need a drink."

The assertion came as a drawl, dry and filled with distaste. So far from a system where he could go for a proper ale without drawing attention to himself, Alkor glowered without the stench of alcohol on his breath. A cool breeze washed over him and his cloak tossed beneath its touch. His footsteps echoed in the quiet, and he took stock of the trees and mild jungle environment that he passed. He was fortunate enough to land in a clearing with a decent distance from the nearest livable settlement.

"I'd even take Tihaar at this point," he muttered under his breath, "backwater piss, but swill is swill." His gaze traveled along the canopy and assessed the length of day he had left. Local time was somewhere between midday and evening, but he would have to finish the extraction before nightfall. He did not want to be in the system longer than was necessary.

"Looks like that strip mine is up ahead," he commented as his datapad whined and spewed a wealth of information in a short amount of time. "And the nearest facility is... in that direction." He glanced to the southeast, then nodded.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

When he came to the mine, Alkor instantly noted that the odor of smelting and hard work was absent. The place had been gutted as suspected, empty for many years. If there was anything he could use left, it was not evident. He placed a hand on the dirt and stared at it as it sifted through his fingers. A familiar sensation flitted through his memory as he let his thoughts stretched out and his feelings licked at the moon itself.

The datapad chirped again as he snapped back to reality. "This area hasn't been heavily traversed in almost a decade," he murmured. "I see. I won't find anything out here, I suppose."

He glanced down at the screen as it offered up a rudimentary map of his immediate location, though he instantly recognized that there were significant differences from what he saw and what was directly in front of him. "There was a refinery within ten clicks of here, according to this map," he mused, "but from what I can tell, it's long since gone. There are no signs of it being destroyed or deconstructed, so its been completely re-assimilated by the moon itself."

Alkor let out a grunt.

"Fine," he groaned. "I'll have to risk a more populated area."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The major strip mine on Concordia was the Scar, a valley with mine shafts big enough to fly an X-wing through down to the mantle. Smoke rose from the scar often, mined consistently by Clan Vereen and ArmaTech in order to fuel the clan's war machine. Being mercenaries, the Mandalorians often required the mineral for repairs, new suits of beskar'gam for new recruits, and the fearsome Merkava Main Battle tank crafted with beskar plating.

Around this mine there were always settlements frequented by the clansmen and their, albeit rare, visitors. The fortress home of the clan sat buried in the halls of a mountain, its ruler said to be one of the finer beskarsmiths, and a trained, if only of moderately skilled, alchemist. The clan patrolled the area off and on, mostly relying on its orbital forces to monitor incoming ships. Granted, a single X-wing would hardly draw attention unless it was bearing down on the fortress or causing a ruckus in the area.

Even near the Scar there were smaller mines that had fallen into disrepair with the larger mining operation drawing attention from them, though the whole of the mountain range fell under Clan Vereen's ownership. Rumros claimed the mountains were home to a small number of Beskar Epar wyrms, and that bounties had been placed by the Alit'buir on the beasts, in the hopes of protecting the beskar veins deep in the mountains from their ravenous hunger.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

His head snapped round as a low rumble shook the earth beneath him, and he heard a sound akin to a low growl. "What the kriff is that?" he asked as his gaze shifted in every direction that made sense. "That definitely wasn't an earthquake." Alkor glanced down at the monitor again and pursed his lips. "I'm not as alone out here as I thought I was."

Rocks slid down the mountainside as a loud shriek resounded. The Jen'jidai twisted and faced the monolithic beast several kilometers away became visible from within the rock face. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed. "Doesn't look friendly," he muttered. Suddenly, a steady stream of concentrated blaster fire rained on the creature from below, and Alkor blinked.

Gruff voices in Mando'a snapped what sounded like orders from the treeline ahead of him. He saw one armored combatant with a jetpack soar overhead and the T-Visor made eye contact with him for a moment, but seemed to disregard him. The fact remained that he had already been seen. Alkor watched the airborne Mandalorian scour the skies above the Beskar Epar, and the distinct sound of slugthrower fire screamed above the hellish scene.

"I should be expecting company soon," Alkor noted. "Maybe I should offer them help? They may be amicable to my presence here if I can appeal to them, somehow."

He resolved immediately to do so, regardless of possible ramifications.

Alkor Centaris burst into erratic motion, bowling headlong toward the group of Mandalorians and their prey. Part of him worried that they would turn their weapons on him, but he would have to deal with that if it happened. The crimson blade of his lightsaber crackled to life as he cleared the forested area, and he rushed past the steady wall of suppressing fire.

"Hrrrrraaaaaagh!"

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The beskar epar wyrm is a creature of legend, much like the Mythosaur to the people of Mandalore. Less a symbol of power and honor, more a symbol of extinction, the end of a way of life. The beast consumed beskar ore for sustenance, resulting in the loss of the mineral in ages past. Its very existence was a threat to their way of life due to the culture's reliance on beskar and the minerals significance to them. But, just as it represented the end, overcoming one was considered a mighty feat. Thus, in the modern era they were only hunted sparingly, normally when the beasts entered the area of an active mine.

The Mandalorian hunters, led by the Clan's Huntmaster, a large wookiee known for carrying a power hammer, led the warriors in seeking out the beast. Sonic emitters dropped into mine shafts designed to irritate and disorient the creature drove it to the surface, and now the group of hunters fired upon the armored beast with large caliber slugthrowers, careful in the attempt to stay out of reach of the enormous mandibles and feeder tentacles it lashed out at them with.

Some were not so lucky, snatched from the air as they dipped low, attempting to line up more accurate shots at the creature's weakspots and dragged into the crushing mandibles and piercing, chattering teeth of the monster.

The arrival of the Lightsaber wielding man was noticed by the Wookiee, using his own bowcaster and taking shots at the creatures head when he was able to. <Let the aruetii help if he can.> The wookiee growled out in his native tongue. Worst case scenario the outsider wasn't up to snuff and got eaten much like the screaming Mandalorian being devoured at the moment.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

That a lightsaber blade could glance off chitanous armor seemed almost surreal.

Alkor did not hesitate or break off his attack when the strike failed to prove lethal. He had faced armored foes before, albeit less monstrous in size. All of them ultimately met with a distinct and similar end, charred and flayed by the symbolic weapon of a Jedi. It was the business he dealt in, killing, and though nearly five years had passed since he held a proper position that required use of that skill he kept himself sharp.

Shyriwook was one language Alkor did have a moderate understanding of, thankfully. When the Wookie bleated that they should not turn their weapons on him, the Dark Jedi felt relief amidst the danger that remained present in the face of a monstrosity capable of tearing through beskar armor without missing a beat. He could hear the woeful music of Mando'ade caught in its vicious maw as they were torn apart and the digestion process began.

Yet his own relentless assault seemed only amplified by their torment.

The blade screamed through the air and wailed on the chitin with violent abandon as Alkor narrowed his focus on the creature's natural armor. He could feel the weakness, if not see it. Despite the ability to pierce the armor outright, the focused fire of several skilled warriors coupled with the skill of a Master swordsman proved to be the creature's equal.

But it continued to struggle.

Alkor barely managed to tumble out of the way of its serpentine body as it thrashed wildly, a desperate attempt to fling the harassing parties away. Of course, it could only sense the metal they wore. It would never know where any of them stood, or how far away. The Corellian Exile came to his feet and ignited his lightsaber once more next to the Mandalorian from before, who had made eye contact with him from the skyline. "The seared area near the rear," he pointed with his right hand. "Where I struck it. It's- I can't explain it-"

He spoke quickly, as another wild sweep forced him back into the air. Alkor winced as the creature barely made contact with his leg, scraping away flesh and fabric alike. Blood poured from the wound as the Jen'jidai managed to find stable footing once more.

He would never be able to explain the phenomenon of a Shatterpoint to a Mandalorian, who had no basic perception of the Force. Instead, he would have to trust in their superb aim and hope that they would take his advice.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The Mandalorians reacted, bouncing in and out of range of the creatures lashing tentacles and snapping mandibles. The wookiee may not have understood Shatterpoint, and ability beyond the being's very small set of Force skills, the Huntmaster did understand the principles of fighting alongside Jetiise. Normally when they gave advice or instructions in combat, it was spot on and worth taking under advisement. The Huntmaster's growling instructions roared over the din of the beast and combat.

With quick, instinctual instinct, the majority of the Mandalorians skirted around to behind the beast using their jump packs to loop around the monolithic creature and fire at the rear. The marks where the beast was slashed with the Jettii's lightsaber was obvious, the dark burns against an otherwise smooth chitin armor plate easy to spot.

Torrents of slugthrower and bowcaster fire erupted, aiming for the weak spot on the Beskar Epar, this one a young adult, was about thirty meters long. The combined fire against the weakspot in the armor caused it to heat and crack, splinter and tear away chunks of the armor from the rear of the creature as the Jettii and a few others distracted it as best as they could. Beneath the beast the beskar vein was exposed, pieces of the ore in chunks from the creature's passing.

Flash-bangs were thrown at the beast as it reacted to the pain coming from behind it, disorienting and aggravating the creature, keeping its focus away from its injuries.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Pain.

His own pain blossomed from the wound that the creature gave him, but the beast's own was even more exquisite. Alkor could taste it all, a maelstrom of agony that writhed in the world all around them. Torment manifested even more loudly as powerful sound charges were loosed behind the creature, which sent its limited senses into disarray. A kinder man might have felt sorry for the Beskar Epar, but Alkor understood the cycle of life far better than any kind man allowed himself.

Jedi preached how there was no death, or that death was not the end but a transition. It was to become one with the force, and to go on to a peaceful existence beyond the galaxy. Alkor knew better than that. Death was a part of life. It was a point where what was understood came to an end, and the consciousness transcended even imagination. The experiences a man took in up to that point were in preparation for that point. But nothing could prepare someone to take that step. Almost every man in the galaxy feared it.

This massive wyrm feared it, too.

Alkor felt no such fear. As the wyrm shrieked its profane protest, Alkor slowly approached. The weak spot was blown into full view, bloodied with a green ichor that only an insectoid could contain. The plating had been blown away and left a mangled, warped and soft flesh layer exposed. Easy prey for a blade of pure plasma.

Alkor drove the blade emitter deep into the creature, which howled in pained protest, but its confusion drove it mad. Where were those who tried to kill it? They were everywhere. It was hopeless. Alkor let the superheated weapon rest in the body cavity for several seconds, magma-hot flesh sloughing away in belches.

Then, he began to drive the blade up, toward the anterior portion of the creature, which in turn began to thrash as its scream heightened and grew to a piercing, shattering wail. It's armor could resist glancing blows, but it's underbelly could not. It had more resilience than most foes, but it would die just the same.

A steady stream of fire blasted past Alkor all the while, but he never gave it more than a passing thought. If the Mandalorians wanted him dead, he would already be dead. Though, he failed to notice the exposed metal- focused as he was on the Beskar Epar.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The Mandalorians continued their assault on the creature until it was well and truly dead, with only a pair of the hunters leaving the task of slaying the monster to gather Beskar ore from the tunnel the wyrm had escaped from. The vein was exposed, pieces of the ore crumbled in the wake of the creature as it had escaped the disorienting sonic emitters used to drive it to the surface.

The bowcaster bucked in the wookiee's hands and belched plasma at the creature as it thrashed, slowly dying to the Jettii's lightsaber as he slashed its super heated plasma blade through its insides, melting its flesh and burning through the creature's organs. With the Jettii's assistance, the hunt had certainly been easier, and was less costly, only a pair of the Mandalorians having been slain by the wyrm in the mountains of Concordia.

As the creature roared through its death throws the Mandalorian warriors began slipping away, one by one, diving into the tunnel and gathering pieces of the ore, handfuls and placing into pouches they carried. It wasn't that such ore was scarce to the Mandalorians, it was that the vein's exposure was the creature's last act, and in defiance of the creature, the Mandalorians would profit of its work and from its death.

As the last roars echoed in the distance, the wookiee dropped from the skies near the Jetti, waiting to be acknowledged. An Aruetii on Clan Vereen land needed to be questioned, though the man's willingness to leap to the aid of the Mando'ade would be noted. They may not need his help, but it was given without question or promise of reward. It spoke of at least a code of honor, maybe not the same as the one the Clan held to, but a code nonetheless.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor withdrew his saber and stepped away, visibly fatigued. It was rare for him to take such liberties to help anyone, but at this point he would most likely be better off for having done so. The blade flickered away as the wookie from before alighted next to him, and he stowed the weapon on his hip as a sign that he meant no harm. He immediately raised his hands in the manner one might offer surrender, and tilted his head backward to look up at the Huntmaster that dwarfed him in size. (Not a difficult task, as Alkor was not an imposing figure in terms of height.)

There was notably no fear or doubt in the eyes of the Dark Jedi as he waited to be addressed, knowing that the proper protocol in such situations dictated that he ought not be the one to initiate conversation. He caught the gleam of minerals from the corner of his eye and glanced in the direction for only a fleeting moment. So close, yet so far away. Ah, the dangers of playing nice with others.

Several fully burdened hunters strode past with their sacks filled healthily with beskar ore, so kindly ripped from the rock by their intended quarry. It would have been obvious from the way he watched them that he had his eyes on the ore, though he quickly ripped them back to attend the bowcaster wielding wookie that took the time to approach him. He bowed his head with a certain degree of deference that Jen'jidai rarely afforded anyone. It was their notorious habit, as warriors, to consider precious few people worthy of respect. Most of those people were those who they considered equals, and those they fought alongside in battle.

Since the Wookie was technically now a blooded battle brother, he could stand to show some measure of humility to the man. His arms never lowered, and once his head was bowed his eyes remained closed. There was only an eerie calm- if one could sense the force around him. Unlike a Sith, the darkness Alkor emanated was calm, cool, and controlled. A Jedi might have called such a sensation perverse, but Alkor had no need for such designations. It was little more than a tool.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The wookiee looked around at the Mandalorians and bellowed out orders to return to their encampment before turning his attention to the Dark Jedi who had aided them in their hunt. In his native tongue the huntmaster spoke to the Dark Jedi, the growls and bleats of Shyriiwook lost on many in the galaxy as unintelligible garbage resounded through the air. <Take what you can carry Aruetii.> And tossed a burlap sack to the Dark Jedi before leaving following the other Mandalorians off with the use of his jump pack.

The smoke and forges of the Mountain burned bright and hot as the Mandalorians returned with what ore they had gathered in defiance of the Beskar Epar wyrm. Its last act was not one of destruction and extinction like what it embodied in Mandalorian culture, but one of life, a gift given to those strong enough to hunt and slay it. For that reason they had shared in its last bounty with the Dark Jedi and for that reason alone. A hunter that does not refuse the aid of another cannot hoard the bounty of the hunt to themselves.

So many of the outsiders, believe the Mandalorians to be barbarians, and they are most certainly barbaric in a sense. But they are bound by their own codes, their own laws, and their own customs many do not understand for one reason or another, most of them ignorant for lack of caring about the culture of Mandalore.

Deep inside the fires of the forges burned hot and the ring of hammers filled the deepest dungeons as the Beskarsmiths of the mountain tooled away on the bounty that had been earned.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

::OOC, So sorry for the long wait man::

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor had not expected an act of such generosity from them, let alone one so significant. To a Mandalorian, Beskar was an integral part of their lifestyle. Parting with it to an outsider was done only at heavy cost, or with great respect. Had his actions merited such a bounty? He hardly wished to question it, of course- he took the offered sack and blinked once, then bowed deeply in thanks. "Err... vor'e," he managed to reply in mangled Mando'a, clearly less than fluent but an attempt to speak the language of his fleeting ally. It wasn't the most eloquent way to thank the wookie, but it would have to suffice. It was more meaningful than a paltry thank you in Basic.

He glanced down at the sack for several long moments as the Huntmaster went winging away, then headed toward the spot where the Beskar Epar fell. Beneath it's wriggling form- still in the throes of death- the small wealth of Mandalorian Iron waited. Many hunters continued to gather the ore and seemed to pay him no mind as he joined right in. Because of the blessing from the wookie, one even pointed to several chunks that looked particularly good and grunted that he should help himself to them. Alkor nodded and knelt down, digging at the loose ore with both hands. It weighed quite a bit, certainly more than he was used to, but it was a good experience. Alkor liked the idea of learning a weapon that did not feel like air.

The sack filled quickly enough, and Alkor realized that if he thought the chunks alone were weighty, then he was going to have a horrible time on the way back to his XJ7. "Ah, I flew in on an X-wing," he informed one of the hunters, "in case you catch that on your radar when I'm on my way out of the system."

"You didn't want to land at the spaceport, eh?" a feminine voice with mechanical overtones joked from beneath a helmet. "You're a funny one, Aruteii. But I'll let the others know, and you won't have to worry about being shot out of the sky."

Alkor only nodded his thanks as he trudged away, muttering obscenities as the hefty prize clanged loudly against his back.

[member="Draco Vereen"]

(OoC: Thanks buddy! It was good to write with you. Hopefully we can write again soon!)