Talzin was in complete darkness. He was in the bowels of Courscant, the dead throne of the Rodian empire. Rusted machines slowly decayed and crumbled, reaching the last stage of their dead lives. Dust was everywhere, and even with his mask on, he had to suppress the urge to cough as small dust particles sneaked into his helmet. The source of light that came from the side of his helm bounced as he slowly edged deeper into abyss. He was in a crypt, of sorts, A building that had not been entered since it fell. It was hard getting into, a large piece of metalwork covered the entire front of it, (Probably a ship that crashed into the planet,) Talzin thought. He had to edge around the building, a process that took hours, and then shoot out one of the many windows that were, surprisingly still intact. The reason, however, he picked this specific building was this: It led into the ground. Or, the artificial ground, which meant deeper into the bowels of the city. Whatever he was looking for, it was probably down there. And so, here was Talzin, making his way down what could be called the last spire of Courscant. The way was steep, and there were no stairs, just a winding descending hallway littered with machines and rusting old armour. The place was a graveyard. As he made his way, he could see how the course of battle went. The machines ravaged what he was guessing were the Rodian forces, until they tried to hole themselves at the top of the spire, where Talzin had began. The machine army blew a huge hole into the materials they had used to blockade the door, which Talzin realized, was thankful for. He wouldn't be where he was now if they hadn't, for he simply stepped into and over the breach, and made his way down the winding hall.
Tetinark, for the most part, was impressed with Terken's home. It was clean, well-put together, and safe. The last part was important. Terken had explained to him his father's reasoning. My dad said that too many settlers were trying to keep to the open plains, which was a bad idea. They were afraid of the swamp- But some of the swamps here are shallow- which means no predators. Tetinark, upon arriving at the home, noticed that small animals had also realized this swamp was a safe haven. It also looked cleaner too, the water here fresh and clear, the plants green and luminous, not dark and foreboding. Once they were inside, Terken had sat Tetinark down on a comfortable cushion that accepted Tetinark's large frame. It was covered in swirling designs, and neat patchwork that Tetinark realized were characters.
Terken had gone to wash himself and get a change of clothes, so Tetinark was left alone- For now. Which was good. He had to think of his next plan of action. Yoza had failed, again, at capturing him. His ship crashed, meaning he must of underestimated the planet's atmospheric shield. His ship, which had already been damaged, couldn't have made it through. Even so, Tetinark was glad that his small but well-enforced pod had been able to slip through the planet's clouds with little incident. But it was a meager victory, such was Yoza's death. The Master would know that Yoza had failed, immediately, and would probably send more of his disciples after him. Tetinark was among his original seven, and with Yoza gone... Would he send the rest of them? all at once? or would he continue to send them one by one? The situation became increasingly dire. One thing was clear, however, he needed to get off-world, as soon as possible. Space travel was long and dangerous, and there was a chance that his pursuers would die in pursuit, But, like Yoza's death, it would be a meager victory.
Tetinark rose from his position and stretched his long body. He realized for the first time since he left his enclave that he was hungry. Tetinark knew there was food here, but he would wait until Terken was ready- His hunger did not excuse rude actions such as taking food that was not yet given. So he returned to his seat, the cushion, and again inspected the characters. He had seen this language, somewhere, but he couldn't place it's origin. But he knew it was familiar. Tetinark assumed that it wouldn't be rude to ask Terken once he returned. And then, of course, He could plan a way to get Terken to help him obtain a ship.
"I'm back, and swamp-free" Terken announced. He entered the main living room-The only room, really, aside from the washing chambers that were up a flight of stairs. Terken was wearing plain pants, no foot coverings, and a brown shirt, which, Tetinark realized, were covered with the same strange characters that were on the pillow. But his shirt also had a small insignia, at the dip of the V of his collar, which revealed somewhat his small but slightly muscled chest.
Now that Tetinark looked about, the home was covered with these insignia. They insignia itself was strange. It was two white figures, a boar-like creature running into the maw of a some beast, of which only it's head was drawn. On the outside, it was circled by a thick, black curving line. Terken noticed his eye.
"It's the flag of the Urno clan. Of the wandering Mandolorian tribe."
FATHER'S HEIRLOOM, PART 2 TBC