Half PintMandalore was a joke. Harkin Jendri couldn't help but shake his head in disgust as he looked out at the cityscape through the transparasteel of the Mereel's Revenge. The YV-929 set down heavily on the landing pad, its metal tonnage settling with a creak as the Mandalorian stood from the pilot's seat and shouldered the heavy blaster rifle at his side.
The people here called themselves Mandalorians, but they knew nothing of their own culture. They were politicians and traders. It spat in the face of everything he had fought for all those years ago, all that his vode had died for. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he started toward the boarding ramp, punching the button to extend it outward.
The New Mandalorians may have been Mando'ad in name only, but at least in their abandoning the ways of the Mando'ade, they tried to retain something resembling honor, as pale and pitiful as it was compared to his people's. The quarry he was here for also called themselves Mando'ad. That was an even greater insult than it was from Satine's people.
Kyr'tsad. That was who Harkin was here for. The honorless vermin that he would see die by his hand. His, and that of the....'partner' he was to work with. The Mandalorian Guard had told him to expect a second investigator, that they would meet him here on Mandalore. Probably one of their policemen. Spirited, brave, but not a match for the Death Watch cowards they would surely meet.
"Best have chosen someone worthy. Or I'll be working alone again soon." He grumbled to himself as he stepped out onto the landing pad, the sun gleeming off his beskar'gam.
The people here called themselves Mandalorians, but they knew nothing of their own culture. They were politicians and traders. It spat in the face of everything he had fought for all those years ago, all that his vode had died for. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he started toward the boarding ramp, punching the button to extend it outward.
The New Mandalorians may have been Mando'ad in name only, but at least in their abandoning the ways of the Mando'ade, they tried to retain something resembling honor, as pale and pitiful as it was compared to his people's. The quarry he was here for also called themselves Mando'ad. That was an even greater insult than it was from Satine's people.
Kyr'tsad. That was who Harkin was here for. The honorless vermin that he would see die by his hand. His, and that of the....'partner' he was to work with. The Mandalorian Guard had told him to expect a second investigator, that they would meet him here on Mandalore. Probably one of their policemen. Spirited, brave, but not a match for the Death Watch cowards they would surely meet.
"Best have chosen someone worthy. Or I'll be working alone again soon." He grumbled to himself as he stepped out onto the landing pad, the sun gleeming off his beskar'gam.