Hunt on Ossus

 [22:29]  The Mandalorian bounty hunter finally made it to the hotel where Nicci had been staying, drunk every so often apparently. Soron looked around, and upon noting that she was the only presence, opted to do something he very, very rarely did. He weakened his helmet's seal, unlatched it, and removed the technological marvel. He held it in his hands, revealing a pale white face -- likely born on Mandalore -- covered by short but uncared for facial hair, a fair bruise across the cheek, and slight skin across his chin.

[22:30]  "Su'cuy, vod'ika." He said.

[22:35] Nicci Ordo did not have her own helmet on because she had been drinking water like a fish.  She was so dry mouthed from consuming half the bar the night before, that she felt she would never be satisfied again.  However, she was eventually, and had been busy draining water when he walked in.  She had already seen him with his helmet off once, but it was when she had knocked it off.  "Su'cuy," she said simply.  He had not been seen in a while, and she found this mildly irritating.

[22:43]  The Mandalorian's scratched lips quirked into a faint smile in response to her greeting. His maroon eyes met her green orbs, "Tug'yc, ni ceta." he began with a somewhat earnest apology, "Other than offering you the chance to hunt a Jedi sorcerer with me instead, given that the Sith seem to be holed up in their Citadel in the Upper City, I'd like to offer you a gift to make up for my... lone operation." he said, walking over to the couch to drop his helmet onto it. He reached behind him, into his Z-6 jetpack, and grabbed a bottle out of hard liquor, "Vintage Corellian whiskey. Four thousand credits -- rare but delicious, they say." his unfiltered voice said, "I don't drink often, but... something makes me think you're the right person to drink with. I propose we down a few glasses now, and then a few on our hyperspace journey to the Jedi's homeworld."

[22:50] Nicci Ordo's eyebrow raised a little at his somewhat groveling apology, unsure what to really say to it.  When he pulled out the whiskey she almost groaned.  She had just spent all the night before drinking and only had just now gotten her body back to normal.  Her drink of choice was typically ne'tra gal.  She had never even had Corellian whiskey before.  She considered turning it down, but inwardly figured kriff it and walked over to him.  "I drink often.  But, being as how you do not, you sure your body is prepared for that just before you go hunt something?" she smirked a little.

[22:57]  "Oh please, I'll sweat it out. I'm a Mandalorian, handling hard liquor is in my blood." Soron replied with a mild smirk as he opened the bottle up, bringing it closer to his nose to take in the scent briefly, "Besides, I'm very familiar with this sort of alcohol. It's my favorite. Vweilu nuts give this a woody, spicy flavor that's similar to the scent of Caamsi." he spoke, clearly versed in what he was consuming. He brought it up to his lips, but just before the bottle touched them he hesitated, and offered it to her, "Here. Go for it first, vod'ika."

[23:08] Nicci Ordo's eyebrow raised a little more at being addressed as vod'ika so familiarly a second time.  She had been under the impression this one hated Ordos for the most part. She still looked at him somewhat suspiciously as she raised the bottle to her lips and drank from it. It was quite smoother than she expected.  She took another, slightly longer drink and passed it back.  "So...what is the occasion exactly?  Nothing to spend your money on?"

[23:18] Soron accepted the bottle back, allowing a brief chuckle to escape his lips, "Hah. Nayc, on the contrary, I hit a big enough payout to warrant celebratory expenses. I managed the capture of Mandalorian self-exile Gryff McCallen. The Fel Empire presiding over Mos Eisley paid out the bounty for bringing in the criminal warlord, and I accompanied one of their squads to Yavin IV, where the prisoner was transferred to the YSF and the local Jedi order for further questioning by GFFR forces." he explained, "I'll be splitting the five hundred thousand credits amongst the branch of Journeyman Protectors that operate on Mandalore, us few who are first and foremost royal guards to Mand'alor when we have one. But that's only four of us elite warriors, so I get plenty to spend my reward on. A little fun with a fellow warrior is certainly a worthwhile expense." he said, before raising the bottle her way and finally taking a swig. His gulps were big, but concentrated. He allowed the smooth alcohol to wash down his throat, and licked over his lips before passing the bottle.

[23:23] Nicci Ordo just found herself smirking at him. "Well I guess that makes up for leaving me here for two days while you ran off to go make more money clearly," she winked at him a little, accepting the offered bottle again, and took a much longer drink than before.  She had held back out of politeness.  A 4000c bottle of alcohol was nothing to just chug when sharing with someone.  But when she heard how much he had made, she figured why not.  "Well honored that it should be me then.  I would think your Alor would be someone you would rather spend your time with." she speculated.

[23:34]  "Ner alor was on a contract for the Republic military. He's relayed coordinates and naval tactics to me -- I'll be extending the work opportunity to the Protectors and other Mandalorian mercenaries willing to assist. We'll be taking part in a starship-boarding strike of the Hapes fleet, I believe." Soron recalled job specifics, his eyes wandering as if searching for the information in the distance. He eventually shook his head, "But I won't bore you with work, vod'ika, I know you prefer to... 'fight for your own people.' Oya." he offered his cheers and raised the bottle her way, taking another solid swig, this time even grander. Oof, they had just about finished up about a quarter if not a third of the bottle, these crazy Mandalorians! And the bottle was actually 8000c, but Soron didn't like to flex too much, "But I... I'm still sorry for somewhat abandoning you. Like I said, I'll make it up to you by being with you every minute of this Jedi hunt." he said, offering that rare half-hearted smile of his, "Speaking of which, you have your ship on-world? I ordered the Kom'rk-class pilot to head back to Mandalorian space."

[23:35]  The Mandalorian did, of course, hold out the bottle again, to see if she'd take more of the delicious liquid.

[23:38] Nicci Ordo did indeed take more of it, taking another drink before she answered.  Her cheeks were blushed red from the alcohol, feeling the effects quite prominently now. "Well of course my ship is here.  It isn't like I would send it on auto pilot to go flying in a joy ride while I sat here." she replied.  "You don't expect me to actually pilot it now though do you?" she laughed, and hiccuped sharply, before passing the bottle back.  She was pleased he respected her views enough to mention them without condescension.  She made note to return the favor in the future.

[23:44] Soron took the bottle back, his eyes running over it, studying how much they'd drank. He smirked and decided that, because he usually practiced continence with alcoholic beverages, that he'd take the extra, last sip. It wasn't as big as his other two, but it certainly made him wrinkle his forehead and nose momentarily. He spoke whilst heading back to the couch and replacing the cap, his own cheeks and chin blushed, though trajectory seemingly stable. He was tipsy, joyful, "I did, but I suppose it's best to be sober. I can recall the pilot before he gets too far?" he proposed, turning her way with inquisitive eyes and a quirk of the side of his mouth, in a trusting manner. He was searching for her opinion -- he didn't care for many a Mandalorian's opinion.

[23:51] Nicci Ordo nodded, "That would be the responsible thing.  Either of us could enter in wrong coordinates and send us straight into a star or something else unpleasant.  I want to go out with a bang but not over something silly." she found herself smiling at him.  She never smiled.  Like, ever.  Like literally never ever.  It wasn't just rare, it was never!  She frowned as he replaced the cap.  She wanted more of that.  But was probably best she remained on-the-verge of drunk instead of fully so.  Her face was just warm and that was all, though she was considerably loosened up from her usual harsh-self.  "So where are we going?"

[00:02]  "Well, as great as a beach on Zeltros sounds right now, I'd say after the potential Jedi on my list." Soron said without a slur, though with an odd sense of happiness. His eyes still fixated upon the other, he let his smile grow, rolling his shoulders backwards twice in an almost-giddy fashion, "My tracking's leading me to Ossus. I'll get the pilot to return. We'll set up a tent on-world to work out of. Let's... drink on the way, we're celebrating after all." he said, before stuffing the whiskey into a jetpack compartment. He tapped buttons upon his forearm gauntlet, likely to reach the pilot to signal for a return.

[00:06] Nicci Ordo scowled.  Beaches sounded rather horrible to her.  Sand.  Ew.  "I know we are going after the Jedi, my question was what planet!" she rolled her eyes.  But he mentioned Ossus which answered her anyway.  She wholeheartedly concurred with drinking on the way there.  "Might as well, neither of us are driving.  Never been to Ossus before." she mused. She actually really liked travelling to different worlds.

[00:09] Soron exhaled a quiet snort, before turning to grab up his helmet. He strengthened and latched his seal, placing the helmet over his head again, "Then let's get going. We'll enjoy the bottle on the way, hopefully we'll still have what it takes to set up a temporary camp for us on Ossus. I reckon we can handle our alcohol." his filtered voice came through, before he started on his way towards the door.

[00:12] Nicci Ordo nodded, walking to the bed and grabbing her own helmet, and her repeater.  she put the helmet on her head and it sealed similarly, and swung the repeater on her shoulder.  She walked over to the droid and slapped it, which "woke" it up of sorts, and it moved to follow her.  "Lead on then.  No idea what your ship looks like."

*HYPERSPACE TRAVEL TO OSSUS*

[00:23]  The duo of Mandalorians were picked up by the Kom'rk-class fighter piloted by a Journeyman Protector, likely one from the Concord Dawn or Concordia branch given the vessel. The dropship's underbelly opened and lowered the two's seats, permitting them a jetpack-assisted exit. By then they'd have drank the entirety of the bottle, so they'd certainly be at least tipsy. Jetpacking in formation would have been laughably impossible, and the two's landing in the woods, especially with all the camp/tent gear they'd have to carry, might have been a tad wobbly.

[00:31] Nicci Ordo jumped free of the craft, igniting her jetpack when she was about halfway down, landing rather ungracefully tripped up by a root until her back was against one of the trees.  She stamped out the fire quickly before it became a national hazard, and looked about to see if she was anywhere near Soron, since as he had said, jetpacking in formation would have been impossible.

[00:34] Soron was naturally quite masterful at jetpack maneuverability, but his somewhat intoxicated state messed with his mental speed. He lost balance, though held onto the bag, and opted for a rough landing, during which he was forced into a series of side-ways rolls before coming to a stop not too far ahead of Nicci. He'd throw the bag with the tent aside, and force himself onto a knee, grunting, "Nrrgghhh. /That/ was fun." he buzzed sarcastically, unable to lose his good mood. Alcohol does that, he figured.

[00:39] Nicci Ordo moved a branch full of leaves out of the way of her visor and spotted him.  She cracked a few of her joints and moved toward where he had landed, looking at the bag he tossed aside.  "Hopefully the tent is still intact.  Maybe we should have waited to finish that bottle after we got down here." she considered for a moment.  "Arent the jedi going to use their weird voodoo osik to sense us coming or whatever?" she asked.  She didn't trust force users as far as she could throw them.

[00:45] Soron laughed genuinely as he semi-crawled along the ground, dragging his sole knee along the muddy grass. "Hahahahah. I'm sure our oh-so-inconspicuous landing drew more attention than any space magic they have could." he buzzed humorously, before glancing at the bag, "The tent will be fine. We're on-world alive and totally, totally, /tota/--hahah--lly prepped. Here, help me set it up." he buzzed, deciding to shift over to it and begin opening it up. He tapped the side of his helmet briefly, too, to order the pilot to head back to Mandalorian space, for good now. Drunk boss, totally. This was rare.

[00:48] Nicci Ordo grunted through her helmet.  "Well then maybe we should have at least brought a second bottle so we can drink more after the tent is pitched," she contemplated, "Something less expensive though, that bottle was good but I don't know if it was THAT good," she said, waiting for him to open the bag up and toss her an end so she could secure it.  "Shouldn't the pilot hang around a bit closer, in case every Jedi here heard our landing and decides we aren't welcome?" she asked.  Though Mandalorian space was reasonably close to Ossus.  She thought anyway.

[00:52] Soron shook his head as the Gauntlet starfighter sped through the atmosphere, breaking out of orbit eventually and heading to a different system entirely, "Nayc, higher numbers increase the chances we'll get spotted. The Jedi aren't pro-actively anticipating visitors, so... we'll like... Nicci, just... just don't worry. We have what it takes, vod'ika, heheheh." he buzzed, pulling out the single tent out of the bag. He threw her one side, and began securing the other.

[00:54] Nicci Ordo took the end, and there seemed to be very little fabric there so she actually tried for several minutes to unfold the thing, as if she were expecting the tent to be a lot bigger than what was in her hand.  After several attempts at trying to peel away the fabric, she looked up at him slowly. "Uh...Soron..." she began...pausing.

[00:58] Soron 's muscle memory and heavily-affected hand-eye coordination by all means worked against each other, but he just about managed to set up one side of the tent, raising its height. He'd raised himself to his soldier boots, and so walked around to Nicci and got onto a knee beside her, "Olar, ni gaa'taylir." he buzzed, proceeding to do just that -- help her unfold the fabric, "Haa'taylir?"

[01:02] Nicci Ordo noticed the tent did not unfold anymore than what was in her hand, and just stood there silent a moment, a long, awkward moment.  "I...um....did...you brought another tent right?" she asked.  Surely he could not mean for them both to cram into this thing.  There was no way they would even fit with her armor and weapons on, which she naturally slept with always.  "Riiiight?"

[01:05] Soron 's visor focused on Nicci for a long moment. Then it glanced at the tent shortly, and then Nicci again. His blinks of confusion were hidden behind his helmet, but eventually he huffed past the vox, ".. Fuck." and fell to his side, exhaling a deep breath, "Fuuuck. Nayc." he groaned, "I only carry mine on the field. Fuck, I thought you'd have one somewhere amongst your skulls or somethin'... blrrgh." yeah, alcohol totally impeded their planning.

[01:09] Nicci Ordo just looked at him incredulously, "Among my skulls?  Really vod?  Where in the kriff would a whole tent fit among the skulls?" she asked.  "Though you did just give me an idea of what to use to pour rum in next time," she admitted.  "It is not really an issue.  I can sleep against the tree I crashed into.  If it is sturdy enough to hold me slamming into it then leaning against it to sleep should be no problem..." she trailed off.

[01:11]  "Nayc, nayc, nayc. I wouldn't discomfort you like that, vod'ika." Soron buzzed, shaking his head and forcing himself onto his knees, "Go ahead, try to get in. We might have to squeeze, but I reckon we can fit." the drunk him proposed a risk.

[01:19] Nicci Ordo just stood there for a moment.  She considered telling him that she had slept on much worse things than a tree, but she was so taken aback by him proposing they squeeze in there together, she was just silent for a minute.  Her face was as red as her hair under her helmet.  She decided to just not say anything, least her voice betray what she was thinking.  She at least took the repeater off and lay it against the tree, before climbing in to the tent.  She damn near filled it up with just herself already.  Her armor was not only massive, but her body was curvy enough to make it a really tight fit for literally anything else.

[01:24] Soron climbed in after her, his plating bumping against hers. He'd struggle in the limited space, before he essentially ended up pressing up against Nicci's back. He fiddled with her jetpack to try unlatch and de-magnetize it, before shoving it /just/ outside of the still-open tent, along with his own Z-6. It'd be then that he'd bump his armored forehead against the back of her head, cursing, "Blast it." before removing the helmet and placing it by the jetpack just beyond the open flap to the tent, "That seems... better. Not too tight?" his unfiltered voice asked.

[01:27] Nicci Ordo was not at all better, and her beskad hilts would definitely have been sticking into his back pretty hard.  She reached her hand behind her and unbuckled them, putting them near her head at the tent opening.  He would now be bumping his head against her armored head though, which probably wouldn't feel too good.  For some reason she was hesitant to remove her helmet now though. "Um....this is tight as kriff if I'm being honest," she grunted, laughing a little.

[01:31]  "Staaaaabi <Riiiiight>." Soron huffed, semi-awkwardly and at the same time tiredly. He'd shifted uncomfortably to give her at least some room to remove the blades, and once settled with their plates basically pressed up against each other, he'd rest his head against the ground of the tent, tiredly, "But low-key too tired to move." he mumbled honestly, cracking a short chuckle, "Hahah."

[01:38] Nicci Ordo pretty much slid down the slope right to the edge of the tent, and used that as an almost hammock-like pillow, still feeling massively awkward and was beginning to wonder how she let this man talk her into hunting people in the first place.  In fact she pretty much questioned everything ever right then, and was wide awake for the moment.  She just stood staring through her visor at the grey canvas, shifting about uneasily but trying not to disturb him as he was clearly tired.  "It will be...uh...fine..."

[01:43]  "So.. *yawwwn* ... so long as you're sure, vod'ika. Rest.. rest is important for any warrior, gives us the energy to fight." Soron mumbled a notion he was taught. Eventually, he leaned his head forwards tiredly, his fleshy and slightly bruised forehead pressing up against the back of her helmet.

[01:46] Nicci Ordo just nodded in response but didn't say anything else.  She just sat there, awkwardly, like someone that just had a kitten lay on them and had no idea what to do.  She didn't move, but lay there rather stiffly, her visor fogging up from the exhaust being pushed back in from venting against the canvas.  She probably, wasn't going to be resting much.

[01:50] Soron was having the absolute opposite experience. Given that he was by all means susceptible to alcohol as he drank it ever-so-rarely, the Mandalorian was giddy and light-headed, which led to general tiredness. In his tiredness, as he was slowly but surely, and by all means naturally, losing consciousness, he mumbled, "Udesiir, vod'ika. Nuhoyir.." he mumbled finally. Ha gloved hand, as opposed to being awkwardly placed, opted to shift to lay quietly upon the side of her thigh plate as he was likely slowly dozing off.

[01:56] Nicci Ordo did NOT relax.  In fact when his gloved hand rested on her thigh she got even more unrelaxed.  She hadn't been this close to another person unless it was in a fight, in,  decades!  Actual decades!  There was an unusual feeling of warm fuzzies, weird fluttering things in her stomach, and extreme social anxiety within her that just had no idea how to even remotely process this.  She wanted to slice the tent open in front of her and roll out of it, and run for the tree.  This woman who would face any enemy no matter how intimidating was paralyzed completely.  She simply didn't move, squeezed her eyes closed, and started whispering the resol'nare.

[02:05] Soron 's keen ears caught onto the whispers, and in his sleep he too recounted the rhyme that was ingrained into him at birth, silently mumbling it subconsciously, "Ba'jur... bal beskar'gam... ara'nov... aliit... Mando'ad.... bal Mand'alor.... An ven-...-cuyan mhi."