“Thats a big hole.” Titius peered over the lip of the ravine, taking in the sheer carnage that was formerly the surface. He was actually quite impressed, rapt in doing the calculations on the explosive power required to move that much material. “Definitely worth the trip to see…”
Tisto raised an eyebrow at sight, somewhat unnerved. It was difficult to comprehend this level of danger. “I don’t suppose this is going to continue to be a sporting event at this point?”
He did his best to try and hide his sadness at that idea.
Tisto looked to his companions with a bit of a shrug. “Shall we go down?”
“Probably should before Mortis notices us,” Diyrian answered as she finished tying back the loose fabrics of her Ratworm jersey – better to not snag on any rocks climbing down. She stepped up and peered over the ledge herself, and just shook her head, curls bouncing. The sight of the jagged and drifting chunks of stone, sharps cliffs and sketchy ledges strewn with dilapidated ruins left her wishing she had brought some actual useful gear.
Too damn bad that L4-C1A refused to let her pilot The Lady’s Flower into the ravine. And the three of them were not gonna fit on her speeder. So, rock climbing it was, in brand new athletic shoes and designer sweatpants.
The faux-Zelosian pivoted, lowered herself over the edge, and found the first of her secure points. Athletic and nimble, she made fair progress by keeping focus on the immediate cliff face and her targeted destination, a point where the blast-created basalt slope gentles into a wide shelf with a couple structures still standing there. Clambering on her way with a foot slip or two, Diy called up above as she neared the end of the descent, “If Jedha City doesn’t claim us, I’m willin’ to pitch in and pay for Limmie ticket.”
“Bloodsports are still a sport, last I heard…So is running!” Titius drew back from the cliff before launching forward and over in a rough dive. Cable spooled out from his grapple line, its head finding purchase along the lip.
Shooting by Diyrian, he offered a jaunty salute to his teamate. Or rather tried to as his helmet smacked against a jutted rock producing a hollow muted pthunk.
Tisto looked at the other two as they made their way down smartly. Diy was elegant as always, and climbing certainty seemed like it was working for her. Titius being clever with gadgets was always nice to see. Still, the boxer was a bit more straight forward. His uniform clung tightly to his frame as he leapt, feeling a familiar heat flood him as he fell.
Diyrian paused as the two men rocketed past her swiftly. Fancy tin can tech and space magic should be disqualifications, cheaters. She cracked a grin and hopped down the last couple meters onto the ledge below, twisting with the grace of someone who has done plenty of parkour – typically in an urban environment but hey the moves translate easily. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she joined Tisto and Titius.
“Ya good, Osse?” Diy jutted her chin to Titius, commenting on the smack he received on descent.
Titius groaned as he squirmed his way upright. “Ill live, but I might need to reassess the padding I put in this helmet for next time.” Finally finding his footing, the mercenary rose to reveal his helmet very firmly askew. “Say, you two look funny, are we on an angle?
Tisto rolled to a stop, brushing himself off. “Oh we are absolutely at an angle. But is suspect that won’t impact my face.”
The Kiffar stood up, shaking some small rocks out of his hair. He was a bit scraped up from the fall, but the jump was over all not too bad. “I think the shorts might have been a bad idea, but I can’t complain that much when I look this good.”
“Pft, some sacrifices have to be made,” Diy chuffed and shook her head. She turned her attention back to Titius and tilted her head slightly while examining his. “Your helmet needs a fix, it’s crooked.”
Looking beyond, the faux-Zelosian nodded towards the couple ruined structures ahead. Stone walls stood ragged with chunks missing out of them and soot staining the surfaces. Any metal was warped, twisted and melted while organic material like wood had long been burnt to ash. “Well, time to get digging then, eh? Shall we wager? Whoever finds the most get a bit of creds?”
“I will throw some credits at that. How much we thinking?” Tisto mused as he looked at the structure they were supposed to visit.
“Is this going to be a small bet or a good one,” He paused for a second. “Or are we going to try for like a regular persons bet. We do have three different summit members here. We might have a bit beyond a regular persons bet in our minds as a small one.”
Titius righted his helmet with a click. “And you think I can just pull from Plagueis coffers to cover a gamble?”, he asked, completely incredulous at the gall of Tisto’s request. Waving his hand in dismissal, the mercenary moved away.
“Do they get paid in Plag?” Diy laughed and shook her head. She turned back to Tisto with a grin and a wink. “Let’s make it a good one, one kay?”
The woman led the way after Titius, not incline to let the helmet head find all the good stuff.
“I figured those in Plag would make some serious money. You got the connections and everything,” Tisto returned the grin, starting a jog towards their destination. “A good bet it is.”
“I get paid in the privilege of living by Lord Selika,” Titius called back. “All my needs are covered but I don’t draw pay.”
Titius slowed somewhat as he voiced the last point. Why dont I get paid anyways? A sense of unease and nausea overcame the Quaestor as if some ethereal force was squeezing him in a taloned grasp.
The feeling subsided as quick as it came on, allowing a return to normal. “Best to not ask questions you are not qualified to ask, Tisto. Now lets move on. I have some strutural examination to conduct. Wonder what materials were used if they survived…this.” He gestured at the walls of the crater.