Drop- Off

 

[17:46] Vente'rro'rloth clambered up the boarding ramp and into the belly of the dropship, his fiery red hues scouring the interior of the vessel with an appraising look. Like much of the Mandalorian equipment, the vehicle appeared to be practical, more than it was comfortable, though comfort was a luxury he could no longer afford himself. His heavy footfalls could be heard clanking up the aisle to betray his presence before Error stopped short, standing about within the dropship to await the arrival of the Alor'ad. "Su'cuy!" He called out into the cabin beyond, hoping to get her attention.

[17:55] Nicci Ordo was just finishing putting the last of the panels on the ship, having finally finished the repairs and got him ready to go.  Yes, her ship was a him.  "Su'cuy." she replied, stepping into the doorway.  "Are you prepared to survive or die?" she grinned.  "I hope you slept well because you probably will not be sleeping your first night out."

[18:02] Vente'rro'rloth gave a curt dip of his head in response to her question, "I'm ready to survive," he reaffirmed, not speaking of the very evident risk of his own demise during the verd'goten. Unlike yesterday, Error appeared a deal less fresh; his eyes showed the dark rims of sleep deprivation, and his routinely pale complexion had taken on a slightly fainter pallor. In all likelihood, his slumber had been minimal at best, intersected by more last minute preparations and attempts at doing more research on the forests of Onderon. "I've already made a mental note of each action plan, prioritizing reconnaissance first. In all likelihood you're right; I doubt I'll rest easy after scouring for a place to establish a safe shelter."

[18:07] Nicci Ordo liked that answer.  Noting his pallor she was not overly concerned.  He would become more alert very soon.  The dangers of a jungle could be the most eye opening experience one ever had. About a thousand times better than any energy drink.  "Hope you studied up on which fruit was poisonous and which wasn't" she chuckled, moving to the cockpit of the ship.  "Grab a seat back there, we are taking off in a few minutes."

[18:15] Vente'rro'rloth had indeed done as much research as he were able, but alas, the more he delved into the subject of Onderon and its treacherous jungles, the more dangers he unearthed, and with them, a plethora of simple do's and don'ts that would be the only difference between life and death. Fighting down his nerves, the Chiss gave another stiff nod of resignation, "As best I could. I'm going to attempt to limit my diet to only what I'm certain of being safe. Keeping hydrated will be more important besides." As instructed, he strode inside of the cockpit, clambering through the cramped interior only to heft himself up and into the co-pilot's seat; not that he'd be doing any piloting of his own. Buckling himself into the chair, Error cast a sideways glance towards Nicci before speaking up once more, "The large purple fruits that fall from the trees.. Remind me again... Are those poisonous, or safe to eat?"

[18:23] Nicci Ordo looked behind her at him for a few seconds before she burst out laughing.  She started the engine, bringing up the landing gear and sealing the hatches as she began her pre-flight check in preparation for take off.  She did not answer his question, as that was part of the verd'goten.  She pulled back on the throttle and the ship lifted into the sky, through the turbulent atmosphere of Onderon's moon.

[18:28] Vente'rro'rloth felt his features twist beneath a subtle grimace in the face of her laughter whilst his mind raced to apply logic to the fruits, "They fall from the trees," he reasoned aloud, "Therefore, the tree -wants- them to be eaten to pass on its seeds..." He couldn't possibly be poisonous if the tree itself had evolved to encourage the consumption of its fruits by roaming animals. At least, he felt certain of that much for now. For the most part, Error remained quiet as the dropship flew off, his gaze drawn towards the windows as a thick, dense canopy of jungle leaves whipped by beneath the hurtling vessel.

[18:35] Nicci Ordo's ship flew over what seemed to be thousands of miles of jungle once she breached Onderon's atmosphere.  The ride to Onderon was literally just a few miles away at this point.  Dxun's orbit was bringing it closer and closer to the atmosphere of its host planet.  Once every few years the atmospheres actually touched, allowing for the migration of the Drexl, which in many ways could be far more fearsome than rancors just because of their sheer intelligence.  Almost sentient, some called them.  Nicci extended the landing gear and landed in the warm sand on the beach, really because there WAS no other place suitable for a ship to land in this wilderness.  "Yeah whatever you gotta tell yourself kid," she replied, as the engines shit down and she stood up.  She opened the back doors and took in the bright sun glaring off the white sand, before turning to him.  "Alright, strip."

[18:44] Vente'rro'rloth ground his teeth together, brows pinched in a subtle furrow whilst he considered all that he'd studied of the dense forests beneath them. As his thoughts wandered off to comb over every detail he could recall, the Chiss found himself losing track of time. Alas, what little time he could relish in the comforts of the ship had soon dissipated without him realizing. By the time his consciousness returned to him, the ship was touching down atop the sands of a nearby beach, the dark, imposing depths of the forests beyond looming in the vista. With no turning back now, Error unbuckled the straps of his seat only to clamber out and give a subtle dip of his head to Nicci. Without any ceremony or much delay, fingers worked at the straps that buckled his polymer Composite armor, working each segment of the carapace free to set atop a nearby cargo net above the aisle of seats. Soon afterwards, boots were kicked aside, and his form-fitting fatigues rolled free of his person, leaving himself very much exposed, and a g [18:44] Vente'rro'rloth  deal more vulnerable beneath. Of weapons, he'd completely shirked himself completely, knowing that he was forbidden to wield anything that wasn't found within the depths of the jungle itself. Stepping forwards with a somewhat discomforted expression, Error loitered at the door of the dropship, staring off at the warm sands beyond, "Alright.." he began, breaking the awkward air of silence, "Anything else I should know before I'm kicked off this ship?"

[18:52] Nicci Ordo didn't even seem to notice he was naked, or comment, or even look at him other than to verify he had done as she had asked.  She picked up his gear and stowed it in one of the overhead compartments in the ship.  "You will get all that back if you live.  If not I will at least bury it with you." she said to him, taking a few steps out of the ship and looking around at the sea.  "One bit of advice I will offer you is to be wary of the waters.  There are a group of people here that migrated from Yavin 8 ages ago when the Vong attacked that world.  They are some odd...fish sorts of people.  Not common knowledge they are here.  They do not seem to be hostile but are protective of the waters.  Respectable, I guess, since it is their yaim.  I will pick you up at this spot in 7 days.  Same time.  Make note of the sun's position."

[19:05] Vente'rro'rloth disembarked but a step behind Nicci, descending the boarding ramp until his feet pressed into the warmth of the sand grains beyond. There was strange, primal comfort to be found in the warmth of the beaches, though the comforts of it would be scarcely enjoyed, should he ever hope to find the jungle-dwelling Rancors that were unaccustomed to roaming the sands that bordered their territory. Hearing her assurance that his possessions would be buried with him, Error's features notched in a subtle furrow, attempting an incredulous smirk, "A uh... Comforting thought, I suppose.." he muttered quietly, not finding much comfort in the thought of his death at all, in truth, regardless of the decency he'd be dressed in. The subject of the waters was met with a subtle frown, turning his sights upon the ocean beyond as though to study it closely, "Do they speak Galactic Basic?" he inquired simply, knowing he'd be forbidden to accept aid from them, regardless of the answer. "I'll try to give them a wide berth regardless [19:05] Vente'rro'rloth  but some basic communication could prove useful in assuring them of my intentions here." Finally, his attentions drifted to the skies beyond, regarding the position of the sun in relation to some key surroundings. Lowering his gaze, 'Error' noted the distant sight of a Hammerhead corvette wreckage, and to his left, an isle of many palms. He'd make mental note of the landmarks and utilize them carefully when judging the sun. "Very well. If I begin to lose track of the days, I'll start checking this location around this time each new day."

[19:11] Nicci Ordo chuckled, "It will be difficult to find your way back here.  The air is thick beneath the canopy.  Many have gone mad in the stifling humidity.  As for the water folks speaking basic, I got no idea.  Guess you will have to ask them if you see one." she replied, heading back into the ship and closing the hatch without another word.