[Blaster Act One - Chapter One] The Mandalorian Covert

There is a heavy stench in the air, the thick smell of fuel and a fire, and immediately you know you’re home when you see a rough engraving in the wall that reads ‘Yaim’. Home. With a big metal sheet in the way, you knock on it twice and soon are greeted with the sight of a pair of slug-throwers. Scatterguns with suppressed barrels on their ends, a custom job thanks to the spare metals your blacksmith had and the gunsmith, and rigger’s time and effort.

The weapons are quickly withdrawn and with a grating screech of metal, you slide in through the gap and find yourself greeted by a woman in green Durasteel, her helmet on the other hand is painted green with enough wear and tear to reveal the ugly brown beneath. “Oh? Welcome back, Maji.” Shao says with a smile, she backs down and keeps her gun ready with her finger off the trigger. “Head on inside, oh and Khi was looking around for you earlier.” Her comrade in a rusted blue, Wessu offers no remark aside from a casual two-fingered salute and resuming his sentry duties.

The corridor quickly grows tight, a bottleneck entrance in case the two sentries were to fall. At it’s tightest, you unslung your blaster and slid it through tucked under an arm face down, before following through with the rest of your body. Finally given some decent breathing room, you trek into the large pentagonal hub, the ceiling is practically a grate connected to a water filtering system, on every second Primeday it would rain - letting the foundlings have some fun and jump about under supervision. As well as provide a source of water for the smiths and the Tribe.

Welcome home.