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The farmer, the businessman decided with some degree of nervousness, looked far more like some barbaric knight than a farmer. Which, considering the man's reputation and normal occupation, made sense, actually. Brutal, terrifying sense.

The farmer was a berserker. If precision was what you wanted, you hired an assassin; if control was what you wanted, you hired the amount of soldiers to seize and hold something; if slaughter was your desire, you called this particular fellow. Xadro had a policy that if something was still crawling after an assault that he would fully refund the entire endeavor. Xadro was a very rich Mandalorian by now.

Or had been, the businessman amended as he fixed his tie and walked across the dusty, faintly radioactive earth of the crater where the farm had been, because that was why the businessman was here. Xadro had exhausted all his funds. His multi-billion credit fortune in minerals and materials and artifacts had all been traded away, and even now, the berserker come farmer was trying desperately to get loans- thus the businessman.

Why?

The businessman didn't particularly know or care why. He knew enough- prior to the 'Lyssia' woman's arrival, his sources said, Xadro had 'lived' on his family's ancestral farm but done nothing with it for decades, and in fact routinely got drunk and destroyed things there. After the mysterious woman's arrival and her prompt adoption by said Xadro, the farm was heavily invested in, and by the third year of operation was so blatantly and blithely successful that the man had contracted business deals to take it interstellar. Zeltron cloth cartels, medicinal pharmacies on Corulag, Correllian leather-makers. The works.

Xadro had attempted outrageous and outlandish schemes that proved surprisingly effective. There were rumors, of course, that this Lyssia was a Jedi; more than that, Xadro had hired an entire Clan of Wookiees as workers with insurances and dwellings. One wouldn't think arboreal aborigines would make good farmers in hot dust and dirt, but one would apparently be gravely mistaken. Other things began popping up- herds, aqueducts, extensive methods for treating fields without pesticides or poison.

He also stopped drinking entirely.

And while it cost Xadro as sizable chunk of his assets and good name the first time on his risky endeavor, it had proceeded well for almost three years, and the farm had almost earned its keep.

This had not pleased the large corporations of the galaxy at large one bit. The elderly Mandalorian, off returning from a negotiation with a textile genius named Malla, had been captured and marooned on the far side of the distant desert world Tatooine, away from the three settlements of Anchorhead, Mos Eisley, and Mos Espa. Presumably to die in the sands while the Trade Federation bombed the pretty little agricultural attempt into a crater five meters deep and a good seven times or more than that wide. This endeavor partially succeeded on the part of the pervasive tradesmen.

Xadro's new-found family survived.

His Wookiee assistants, crops, herds, and innovations did not.

Somehow, the berserker survived the desert heat and hostile Tusken Raiders- better known as the Sand People- for weeks until he and his blazing metal armor reached civilization. The equally savage, while considerably less durable or geared, natives ought to have killed him. Here he was, instead, trying again- first cleaning the radiation poisoning, then buying new soil and watering methods, then trying to gain seeds, tools, workers...

Terraforming didn't come cheap. Neither did time, for which Xadro paid many, many, many pretty pennies to speed the process up- he wanted the farm livable and workable for his grandchildren before they had children of their own. And as Lyssia and Drala had new children to take care of now, making sure contaminants were dealt with and resources attained, and quickly, became Xadro's single largest goal in life.

Not that many people wanted to deal with him, either. A bloodstained fellow who already attracted ire and got bombed once wasn't a smart investment. Nor was his seeming desperation.

The crimson suited investor finally got close, having watched his feet carefully traversing the pit while distracted by his thoughts, and looked up at Xadro. And up. The big berserker bugger had no shoes and no helmet on, having left his distinctly orange armor in the building. He was still a good six feet and ten inches tall, and a good two or three broad- he would be larger and even more imposing in his bulky full-body armor plating.

The man's hair was shaved to about a centimeter thick and was cleanly shaven on his face. Lopsided burn scars took the place of eyebrows. His mildly irritated eyes from decades of drinking were a gray and grey silver tone, and his face had scars from times when he did not wear his helmet or had it smashed against his face via blunt trauma- he had a long one diagonally along his forehead and a few around the jaw. One on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks were a little hollow and he looked... tired, at the moment. With lines from clenching his teeth and roaring a lot etched in, like reverse laugh lines.

The man was sixty-seven to seventy years old if he was a day, the nameless businessman noted with some shame, but his posture was straighter than the thirty year old's and his body clearly in better shape under the simple plain farm clothing. The man's dark gray hair still had mild hints of tints of gold and copper in it in places- the once-blonde man's hair looked at least as metal as his armor, silver and platinum mixed with traces of more blazing brazen materials.

Xadro offered him a hand up out of the pit; a deep, refined voice that matched neither the berserker reputation or the current farm attempts billowed forth quietly. "So? Will the Banking Clan support my efforts, lawyer?"

The other man took the hand and observed the taller from the same ground elevation- not that it changed the looming at all. The man was like an igneous rock- cracks and scars and solid were written all over him. The lawyer caught himself nodding. "Yes- but only if you support their efforts against the Republic, friend."

Xadro's eyes narrowed. "Mandalorians have no particular love for the Republic, but the Trade Federation was the one who caused this to me in the first place, and my son-in-law is serving the Republic as a doctor. The amount I asked for isn't nearly enough to secure my loyalty for you."

"Call it a discount and a promise that in the new scheme of things, you won't be hindered by us again," the businessman offered, "besides, there are other Mandalorians who already fight for us. Many of them-"

"-are not my Clan," Xadro answered, "and if that's your answer, the answer is no."

The business man raised an eyebrow at the eyebrowless man. "You don't say no to the Confederacy, Manda-"

A knife flashed and thudded into the businessman's shoulder. "I just did. Get out before I miss again. Damn these old eyes..." Xadro warned.
Blub blub blubbb.

Malla, Lyssia, Drala, and partly Xadro belong to :iconmnemonides:

AKA an excuse to describe the old guy a bit, not so much a story in and of itself...

Edit: Now with 100% preview image totally irrelevant to and slightly contradictory of the story, being Xadro's helmet and all. Which he isn't wearing.

Comments, even or particularly comments disparaging or critiquing, are welcome, of course.
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:iconconnya:
Connya Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
he be fun :D
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Big, bloody, berseker, bugger, ba'buir, badass Xadro. ;p Well, as much as we can fit him into the roles, anyway. :)
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:iconconnya:
Connya Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
bloody? Does that mean he has a cut somewhere on his body? I know a few vamps who would LOVE licking him dry from top to bottom if there's bleeding cuts on him ;P
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Ffffft.
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:iconconnya:
Connya Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
so that's a yes????
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
You really want {them} to go shred the clothing off an old man and lick him? >3
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:iconconnya:
Connya Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
why not? I mean technically they are older than he is...they love cradle robbing. Shame. :P
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Hehhhh. I don't suppose his height and girth would have anything to do with their interest. Or the battlescars. :P
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(1 Reply)
:iconmnemonides:
Mnemonides Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist
Though you have "a assault" near the beginning. :P
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Tis 'an' now. :meow:
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:iconmnemonides:
Mnemonides Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist
Eeee <3 Xadro you are amazing. :D :la:
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:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
^-^ He tries so harrrrd. <3
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:iconmnemonides:
Mnemonides Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Hobbyist
And he succeeds!

Though Lyssia would say he is regardless. <3
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:iconrosemarri:
Rosemarri Featured By Owner May 20, 2011
HA HA HA YES! "Get out before I miss again..." Nice! I like him.
Reply
:icondarthvengeance0325:
DarthVengeance0325 Featured By Owner May 20, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
^___- I always like Xadro. He's partly :iconmnemonides: ', too. :D
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