He wasn't entirely sure why, but for whatever reason, the child had a natural knack for any sort of tech, and he was very thankful for that. If anything, being blessed with his first Foundling being so naturally proficient was just a sign to him that this was indeed his destiny. Ruby had, almost entirely from raw observation alone once field stripped, figured out how and why his DC series weapons worked.
It was incredible just how naturally proficient with the technical side of advanced weaponry she was, though progress was understandably slow with teaching her Mando'a. He'd only spent a few hours teaching her before moving on to just letting her examine his weapons while he drove, at least after clearing the snow off the windshield.
It was around midday when he rolled into a decently sized town, surrounded by walls maybe four or five meters in height with an open gate at either side leading down the road. The central road, a simple dirt path, was clear of any clutter, but that didn't necessarily mean that he would just pass through without batting an eyelash. He could continue to teach Ruby a few more things while here, and he was certain that they'd bump into trouble here... in fact, he was counting on it this time around.
The truck came to a halt in the town square, the only doors opening however being the ramp in the rear. The two figures that emerged from the confines of the massive truck drew curious looks from the evidently confused but otherwise uncaring townsfolk, who went back to business as usual sighing just a few seconds of ogling the newcomers.
"When approaching a new place, always view it with an air of suspicion until you can get a good feel for it and the people there. If possible, do recon on the place, whatever or wherever it might be, from a distance before actually approaching or entering." He guided her as they walked down the steps into the large, open circle that various services offered themselves around. "Look for vantage points, possible ambush locations and spots, anything that could be used to give someone an edge in combat."
He continued on with his vocal lessons, pointing out the things he was talking about and further elaborating as needed as they went through the town. Overall, it seemed fairly peaceful in the town, but he knew too well that it wouldn't last. Whoever was hunting the girl was certainly not far behind at any given moment, and it only stood to reason that he wouldn't lose them any time soon.
Nonetheless, for once, he was counting on them catching up. It would allow him to show Ruby a few new things, drive home a few new lessons. His goal now was to turn Ruby into a true Mandalorian, and what he currently had to work with in her was just an innocent little girl... needless to say, he had his work cut out for him.
His first area of priority was, after doing a few laps around the town, the saloon. It was always a good place to gain some info, and he had quite a few questions he wanted to ask aside from trying to get Ruby more used to seedy locations like such...
His expression was stoic as he tailed the truck into the town, keeping a respectful distance as he sized up his quarry from about a mile away. Whoever was paying him this time, apparently for some futuristic soldier's head and the little girl he protected alive, wasn't holding back in the slightest with the payout. Twenty five thousand lien. It was a lot for one head and some little brat brought in, though the contact staying anonymous was... unusual.
Not the first time it had happened, but he couldn't help but feel as if there was more to the story when about twenty gunmen arrived claiming they were sent by the contact to assist. He'd been a professional in the business for a long time, and knew to just keep his nose out of the finer details... but for once, something in him just screamed that something wasn't right.
Well, as he watched the soldier exit the saloon, he couldn't help but slightly gape as he got a good look at that face plate. A T shaped visor... indented cheeks... a rangefinder, too... not to mention, wrist mounted weaponry like his, which he identified as a disruptor, were unknown to Remnant, on top of the fact that he was armed to the teeth with blasters.
He weighed his options, knowing he could probably just dome that soldier from long range... but there wasn't any honor in that. He surprised himself with such a hesitation, as honor had honestly taken a backseat in his priority list many years ago. However, seeing the things that reminded him so much of home...
"Hey, you gonna take the shot or what?" One of the grunts beside him inquired, drawing a low grumble from the older veteran of the trade.
"No, not from here. We're changing our approach." He declared, getting a collecting grunt of confusion from all the lackeys. "You idiots don't need to know why. I'm the leader of this op, and your say is, quite frankly, irrelevant. Let's go." After picking himself up, he hopped forward and slid on his heels down the hill he and the scrubs were hiding on, breaking into a light jog towards the town to match his momentum...
The shootout started as soon as he walked out of the establishment, and he pulled Ruby down low to avoid either of them getting shredded by a volume of gunfire. Dragging her back behind a thick pillar, he pulled his DC-17M and popped just enough around to be able to return fire while keeping most of himself covered. He gunned down two grunts that got a little too close, dropped another on the rooftop before shooting a barrel labeled with an explosive hazard sign, blowing it up and dooming another four scrubs in the ensuing detonation.
However, he was forced to abandon his nice piece of cover as a grenade landed just by. Grasping his Foundling by the hood, he lunged away from the grenade, throwing her further and behind a stack of steel crates. Rolling through the snow, he loosed a volley of bolts across the square blindly, suppressing his assailants for a moment as he scrambled into cover beside Ruby.
Propping himself up in a crouch, he took a double-take of their surroundings, noting that besides the very clearly locked hydraulic door to his right, they'd effectively been backed into a corner. Growling slightly, he turned about and popped off a few more shots, dropping one more gunman before a hail of gunfire forced him back into cover...
"All guns, hold your fire!" A coarse, gruff voice called. Much to his surprise, the gunfire actually halted, allowing him a breather to reassess the situation. Chances were, they were trying to close the distance or get better angles on him, which sat fine with him. Closer targets were easier to hit, after all. "Hold your positions, you idiots!"
"What?" He thought in confusion, chancing a glance over the crates to see just who was calling the shots here...
"Gar a Mando, verd?" A figure with greying hair and steely eyes inquired. His eyes practically burst from his visor upon hearing the language, and he nearly fell out of his cover in shock. This man, whoever they were, spoke Mando'a! They knew what Mandalorians were! He had to know more, and shot back his response in the same language.
"Ni cuy' Mando. Cuyir gar, too?"
"Elek, solus be Fett's True Mando'ade." The figure replied, resting a hand on the firearm on his hip. The name Fett certainly sold it, this man must be a Mandalorian... and if that were the case...
"Fett, sa o'r Jango Fett?"
"Jaster Mereel's ad. Jango cuyir te true Mand'alor." He replied simply, bringing a satisfied smirk to Midnight's face. With a dark chuckle, he stowed his 17M in favor of dual wielding his normal DC-17s. "Ni Kelir not kyr'amur a fellow Mando. Pehea about gar bal Ni tengaanar these twats meg bic means at troan t'ad be mhi o'r a fair akaanir?"
Rising out of his cover, he leveled both blasters on the man who pointed his gun at him in turn. His eyes locked with his visor, and with but a wink, Midnight snapped to the gunmen still on the rooftops while the mysterious Mando before him snapped his arm back, blowing the brains out of the scrub behind him's head, before grasping the gunman now to his left by the wrist, yanking him down while pivoting on the ball of his foot, throwing the man down while smashing his heel into the back of the third shooter's head before he could react.
Plasma bolts ripples through the air as bullets blasted brains out, throats open, and hearts apart. Before anyone knew what was happening, the last twelve lackeys laid dead upon the floor, the two mighty warriors who felled them all standing shoulder to shoulder, triumphant over the last man as they shot him in the head together, finishing that fight in finality...
"Well... this wasn't the turn I was expecting this job to take, but it is what it is..." the man turned to look him in the visor, grinning from ear to ear and offering a hand, one Midnight gladly accepted. "Was a damn good pleasure to fight alongside another honest to god Mandalorian after so long."
"Likewise... I didn't expect to find another Mando here. Are there many more?" Midnight asked eagerly, drawing a dark chuckle from the man.
"Sorry brother, but aside from us, there's only one other Mandalorian I know of here and they're... well... strange... but forget about that... too long, it's been too long since I've seen another child of Mandalore! I don't even care if you're Deathwatch right now, the thrill of fighting alongside a fellow Mando is just too good!"
"What's your name, old timer? If you're from Jango's time..."
"Marcus. Marcus Black." The man introduced himself, giving Midnight's hand a firm shake.
"Midnight. A pleasure."
"Likewise... now, how about you, I and the child have us a walk, huh?" He suggested, bringing Midnight closer, transitioning to a whisper. "Too many ears here, y'know? We'll share stories on the way back to my cabin, alright?"
Midnight just nodded in simplicity, before looking back to Ruby, and jerking his head back to tell her to come out. She showed clear hesitance in doing so, but followed the command nonetheless. With the three together, they piled back into the truck, and without any further need for incentive for leave, they bolted out of the town, following Marcus's directions the whole while...
"So, you're a clone of Jango, but educated in our culture, and she is your first Foundling?" Marcus inquired, tapping his fingers on the edge of the round table they shared in his small little house. Midnight had taken to explaining everything on the way there, and the man listened carefully to every detail, though only after having shared his own story as to how he arrived on Remnant. Apparently, during that final battle on Galidraan, a Jedi used the force to fling his jetpack missile right back at him, and instead of the ensuing explosion killing him, it sent him here...
"That's right, and I was hoping to, with the Beskar and my first Foundling, establish the Mandalorians here..." he answered, holding the man's green Mandalorian Battle Helmet and inspecting it. All things considered, it was in pretty decent condition for having been blown up. "But if you've been here for so many years, why haven't you tried to step up as Mand'alor?"
"Didn't feel right. In my eyes, Jango was always Jaster's true successor. By assuming the mantle of Mand'alor, I'd be taking what was rightfully his." He answered plainly, looking to the side as a young boy with silvery hair who only looked to be Ruby's elder by a few years peeped around the corner. "That there is my son, Mercury."
"Is he a Foundling?"
"Ashamed to say it, but no. The years here had made me... lose sight on what it meant to be Mandalorian. It was the sight of your visor that reminded me of who I am, as much as I hate to say it." Marcus admit, before looking back to Midnight. "He's at least been partially trained in combat, and knows a little Mando'a. Not a lot, but you can at least hold a brief conversation with him."
"I see..." Midnight looked to the boy, then back to Marcus. Ruby had been dismissed, allowed to play with Marcus's son or do whatever as long as it was within the house. "Where's the boy's mother?"
"Pearl is asleep right now... but that isn't important. You stepping up as Mand'alor is what's important."
"What about that?"
"You're almost pure Jango in combat, I saw it back there. I could reach for the title of Mand'alor, now that Jango is dead... but, no. I'm not much of a leader, not in the sense that Mand'alor should be. I can lead a squad into combat, but I can't rally others together. From what you've described, as an ARC Trooper, you happen to excel at just that." He explained, taking his helmet back and running a finger over the visor. "It's been a long time since I donned this armor... but any descendant of Fett has my loyalty. What's the game plan, Boss?"
Midnight was taken back by the man's sudden commitment, but nodded in realization that the man was a True Mandalorian. People like himself and Marcus weren't particularly complicated folks, and sharing this much in common was all they needed. Standing up, he pulled a map out of the satchel he'd thrown on, unrolling it out on the table and tracing the planned route.
"We're headed to Vacuo to lie low. Whoever these... kidnappers are, Ruby won't be safe until we're there. On the open range, it'll be easier to hide. We don't have the numbers or the intel to take the fight to whoever is after her." He explained, getting an affirmative nod from the older man. "Once we have a good base of operations, we can start to... expand, so to speak."
"And Beskar? When are we going after the rest of it?" He inquired, drawing a look of genuine confusion from the clone.
"Rest of it? There's more?"
"Aye." He said, before walking over and punching a hidden panel on the wall. Immediately, it opened up to reveal a sort of hidden room that not only held the rest of the man's ancestral armor, but also entire chests filled to the brim with Beskar ingots. "The Beskar is our birthright as Mandalorians, but the other important players in this planet's game do not recognize that claim, if part on account of them not knowing who we are."
"And all this Beskar? You've been collecting it?"
"Yes, aside from my work as an assassin, reclaiming all the Beskar has been my life's mission ever since I got here and found out it too was here. It's uh... it's been awhile. I've got a good stockpile, but Ozpin, Atlas and the Schnees each have more individually." He explained, before stepping in and resting a hand on his old breastplate. "Reclaiming it all has felt like a pipe dream for so long... but if we're building up the Mando'ade here too, then we'll eventually have the manpower needed to take it back."
"Right..." he mused, before standing up and looking out the window. "Well, I'll contact you once we've established our foothold there, so-"
"Who ever said I was staying here?" Marcus chuckled as he interrupted Midnight, examining his old weapons as he did so. "Don't worry, I've got my own ride for me and mine. Give us a few hours, we're coming with, Gar aalar ni?"
"Well, that's unexpected, but not unwelcome. You sure about this? It's painting a target across your back, too."
"Son, if I was afraid of people gunning for me, I wouldn't be cut out to be an assassin, never mind a Mandalorian." Marcus answered simply, before looking back to see his son had returned and was watching the two of them again. "Mercury, wake your mother up and get to packing. We're leaving."
His son did so without question, immediately moving to execute as commanded. With a simple nod to Midnight, he himself got to work. After all, moving this much Beskar in a timely fashion would be no small feat...
After another three hours of waiting in overwatch with Ruby, he saw Marcus, in full armor and kit, jetpack, blasters and all, march out with his family in tow, giving him a final thumbs up. They had spent a good deal of time packing up a truck that looked almost identical to his own, though Marcus had also taken the time to clean off his armor from the old, peeling paint. Now he stood clad in chrome-like Beskar armor covering him from head to toe, looking truly imposing as he marched forth towards his own truck.
With but a nod, he dropped back down from the hatch into his truck's interior, closing it behind himself, and worked his way back into the driver's seat beside Ruby. He had set his helmet's comms to the same frequency as his fellow Mando's, so with but a push of a button, they could communicate.
"Alright, this is Marcus testing comms. Mark one, mark two, mark three, copy?" He heard over his helmet's built-in headset, pressing his own button to respond.
"Midnight here, I copy. You all packed up and ready to bug out?"
"Locked and loaded, were ready to go. You taking point?"
"Affirmative, fall in behind me, we've got a long drive ahead of us." He confirmed the assumption, before pulling ahead and leading down the road. He saw in his rear view mirror that the man had indeed pulled in behind him, and was following as ordered. So, with a satisfied smirk and confidence with his newfound ally, he pushed onwards into the evening...
A/N: this'll be the last chapter written until I get my pc. Should only be about a week or so.