Mirdala Ad'Goran Posted January 20, 2017 Share Posted January 20, 2017 Name: Discoveries Summary: The story of how Mirdala came to be adopted by Jorbe and Cyare Ad'Goran. Rating: PG-13 (mentioned violence, implicated abuse) Additional Tags: RP Backstory Critiques: Constructive criticism is welcome. ---------------------------------------- Outbound from Cestian Sector - a little over 23 years prior to Current RP timeline "Last crate" Jorbe Ad’Goran remarked to his friend and their mission’s commander, Erich Delavvo, the former’s face still grim from the memory of the cold-blooded senseless murder of the Bothan civilian they'd found sheltering in the bunker they'd raided. The two of them lifted the already indexed crate from the top and sat it on the pile on the opposite side of the cargo bay. To his surprise, he didn't need to descramble the lock on this one and received another when the lid jerked back down out of his hands. "What the haran?" He started, raising the lid, more forcefully this time as Erich came over to investigate his comrade's confusion. Wide jade eyes belonging to a small raven-haired girl stared up at them from where she was seated amongst the crate's contents. Both men stared in shock for a few moments before Jorbe recovered enough to reach in after the small girl. No sooner had he picked her up then she suddenly sprang to life screaming, crying and shrieking in both panic, pain, and confusion that her little mind knew no other way to process. She'd lost her caregiver and found herself in a strange and scary new place. The child couldn't feel her Bothan nanny any longer, either, and not knowing where the Bothan was scared her more. Her small cheeks had turned a rosy red color and her wailing increased in volume as the man that held her was unknowingly hurting her after her recent visit to the Baktoid labs. Jorbe just stared at the child from behind his buy'ce and looked from her to Erich at a loss of what to do. "Where did you come from ad'ika?" he asked. Erich clasped him on the back, "Vod, I didn't think that I'd have to be the one to have to explain this to you but...you see when a man and a woman..." "Oh shut it you dikut!" Jorbe retorted as he tried to hold the screaming child another way, only to have her start shrieking in pain even louder. "How do you shut her off?" "Try putting her down because she apparently doesn't like the way you're holding her." His friend and father of three replied bluntly. Just then, several of the other squad members flooded the cargo hold in full battle gear, weapons drawn and ready for a fight, Jerecht leading the charge. "Great, more witnesses and wasted space," he sneered, eying the screaming toddler. Jorbe sat her down, but her crying didn't stop. At least, she wasn't shrieking in pain any longer, but was instead looking wide-eyed from one helmeted face to another. "Buckets off boys," Erich ordered. "Maybe that will calm her down to know we're not droids. I'm reasonably sure she was what was setting off the motion alarms in the hold." The others quickly complied, Jerecht, one of the non-Mandos, being the last as he begrudgingly removed his battle helmet after several seconds of Erich's commanding gaze. The child still didn't stop crying. "What do we do with her?" One of the others asked. "What is that smell?" Another chimed in, now that their buckets weren't filtering the air any longer the child's rather ripe nature and soiled clothing becoming apparent. "We could try to get her back to Cestus through another route, she's obviously someone's kid, probably from a pretty well off family, judging from the way she's dressed." Tolf Ad'tornie, the Cestian strike team’s tech officer, offered. "I bet that Bothan woman Jerecht neutralized was her nanny or something." "Ransom?" Avren Gailaar, another of the team’s Mando’ade, a former Journeyman Protector, joked. "I say," Jerecht interjected, elbowing his way past Jorbe to level his blaster at the little girl who surprisingly didn't flinch away from the weapon. "We eliminate another witness and dump all the useless junk." It was one comment too far for Jorbe as he spun the other mercenary around by his shoulder and decked him resulting in an all-out brawl between the two men. Erich reached for the kid, only to have her nimbly dart just out of reach between the crates just ahead of his hand and quickly out of sight. "Fierfek," he swore, turning his attention to the grappling match on the deck. "Enough! Break it up! Stop slapping at each other like a bunch of drunk spacers!" Setting action to words, he reached out and grabbed the first battle-vest he could, pulling hard. The others pitched in, grabbing the nearest combatant and trying to drag the two large men apart. After several seconds of struggled combat they finally managed to get enough space between the two that Erich was able to bodily put himself between them. "Jerecht, find somewhere else to be now. Jorbe, you stay here and cool down. The rest of you fan out and find that kid! He called the cockpit. "Give me every report you can about noise or movement. We have to narrow down where she might be and then we can use the damage control boards to keep her from wandering off again." He strode over to the damage control station in the small cargo hold and began punching queries into the keypad. Sarge...that ghostly wailing is back… Belaile's stuttery voice breathed from his comlink a few moments later. The ex-swoop ganger-turned-loadmaster sounded like he was in the early stages of withdrawal. A string of bad accidents and injuries treated by an equally bad selection of street medics and dis-barred hospital techs early on in his life had left the man with a near permanent ache, and an equally terminal addiction to battlefield-strength painkillers of whatever sort he could get his hands on. Lately the man had become convinced that the shuttle was possessed by the ghosts of former crew, and had reported odd noises and events over the last week or so. The wailing seemed to be new, though, having first started while they were boosting out of Cestus's atmosphere in a hurry. Erich thought fast. "Bel, where is the ghost right now?" Judging from the odd smell and the scrubbies going crazy… he paused, apparently trying to get his bearings. Maintenance junction three-oh-six Alpha...I think. "Acknowledged. I'll send a team to check it out, let me know if the ghost moves." Erich punched several commands into the computer to lock down that particular junction, hopefully containing the little "spectre" that had fled to the ship's interior, when Jorbe came in, his face strained. "Have you found her yet?" Erich nodded, "Bel might have stumbled upon her and based on some of the rantings from the cleaning droids, I'd say that we can at least resolve the issues of this particular 'ghost' of his." He clasped the other Mando'ad on the shoulder. "Let's go find your ik'aad." Jorbe's eyebrows knotted together in confusion, but he said nothing and simply followed his friend. Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger." “A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!Register a new account
Already have an account? Sign in here.Sign In Now