A sharp clank woke Kitah'ra from a deep sleep. As her eyes shot open, she bolted up to see a small creature attempting to drag her helmet away. This was nearly every morning, it seemed. If she couldn't find a better place to sleep, she would end up killing everyone in this disgusting city. Pulling her cane from the backpack next to her makeshift bed, she swung, sharply striking the tiny squeaker, causing it to fly through the door of the tiny hut.

"Stupid mongrels...", she grumbled, flipping her helmet up and onto her head. She flipped the switch, powering up the speaker system and rangefinder, and rose from her bed. Her body was sore, more than she had ever been. The city was in a state of panic, and she couldn't quite put her finger on why. However, the citizens were definitely on edge, and violent. Stealing was difficult. Simply scavenging for broken things was difficult. Groaning, and attempting to scrape some dried blood from her chest plate, Kit threw her backpack onto her back and stepped out of her hut into the busy street.

The people of the city still gave her wide birth. They weren't afraid of her, but they were still weary. Around here, you couldn't tell which Mandalorians were actually from Mandalore, and which were bounty hunters, disgracefully wearing the armor to cover their identity. As she reached the entrance of the Jedi temple, she smiled from beneath her helmet, walking up the small steps, and taking a seat beside an extremely old man.

"Good morning Yomi.", she spoke through her speaker system, causing the old man to raise his head slowly.

"Kitah'ra...what have I told you about that silly mask.", he spoke softly to her, his cane clanking roughly against her cheek. Kit smiled once more and flipped the switch, before pulling the helmet from her head, and sitting it on the floor, "You're more than the sum of your parts. You remember what that means?"

"Yes, sir. But my armor is a part of who I am."

"No. Your armor is a reminder of who you were forced to become. When one gets a second chance at living, and doesn't take that chance to re-evaluate their values, they become lost. The force is all around you. It protects you, much more than this hunk of metal you depend on.", Yomi explained, once again tapping on her armor. This time it was her chest.

"Maybe one day I can see things that way, Yomi...but I'm not ready."

"You'll never be ready until you admit that you have more to you, than a bunch of metal, and blasters. Not everything can be answered by the end of a Westar, you know. The force. It's a powerful tool. It's a powerful teacher. Why do you fight what is all around you, especially here, in this sacred place?", Yomi continued, repeating himself.

"I'm not fighting anything. The Force is your religion...and I respect that, but..."

"No religion. Never a religion. The force is more than that. To some, a religion. To me...it is everything. I am the force. You are the force. The ground is the force. The wind. Everything...", Yomi waved his arms around, and then placed a single finger on Kit's chest, his face twisting into a sweet smile, "The force is in here."

"I'm not force sensitive, or whatever. I just came to have lunch with you, Yomi.", Kit groaned, attempting to quiet him, without offending.

"I am one with the force..."

"And the force is with me.", Kit finished, a smile cracking her own sullen face. Yomi grinned widely, as if he felt he had gotten through to her in some way. He stood with some effort, patting her softly on the cheek, and disappeared into the temple to gather food. Kit simply sighed, leaning against the wall. Did she believe in all of this? Was the temple even worth saving, or protecting? Was there a chance for her to pull Yomi from this place? Probably not. Saying the Force wasn't a religion was like saying the Empire had the people's interest at heart. She scoffed, as she watched the bustle of the people in the street.

---

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In the vast emptiness of space, a ship flew in silence. Inside, a young man was checking on his cargo. "Just one more relic and I'll be set for a whole month." He reach over for an ancient holocron, inspecting it silently. It seemed to call to him, as if instructing him to open it. Of course, he scoffed, and tossed it into a pile of other archaic pieces of rubbish. He never quite understood what made people want to buy this stuff. It wasn't exactly his place to say, though - as long as he was getting paid, his personal beliefs didn't matter.

Turning from the cargo, he made his way up to the bridge, and stared off at the planet in front of him. "One more. Now...let's find ourselves a safe place to land." Sitting down, he took a hold of the controls, and the ship began to slowly descend into the planet's atmosphere. As he did so, he watched outside the bridge window to inspect the planet's surface. Jungle. It was nothing but jungle. As the ship landed on a safe spot, he stretched his arms out, and closed his eyes. This was the only way he could really tell where these relics were. He felt like his spirit reached out from his body and then....he opened his eyes.

"There." Standing up quickly, he made his way down to a small arsenal room, slipping on his holster, and took a few pieces of equipment with him in a small satchel. With a press of a button, the ramp slowly lowered until it touched the jungle floor. Slipping his blaster pistol into his holster, Gaelden walked down, and inspected the area around him. "Crazy to think that the old force users stayed on planets like this....then again, I wouldn't doubt it. No wonder they're all weirdos." With a shake of his head, he trekked on, the ramp of his ship slowly raising itself back up. "I really hope there aren't any Acklays or Manka Cats..." His tone of voice and choice of words, obviously, indicated some bad experience in the past with these creatures.

Kale sat at a table on Kratos station, a thousand year old station in a numbered star system in the outer rim. It lay at the end of a series of rarely used hyperspace routes, the system only having any importance because of the mining guild's ancient space station which oversaw mining activity in the system. A few somewhat rare minerals and enough Tibanna gas from the nearby gas giant meant that they could turn a bit of a profit without having to ship fuel in from elsewhere. This isolation made it a good hiding spot for those that didn't want to be found.

Kale had already finished his last job, maintenance on an R4 droid, and was having a few drinks with his friends, a Rodian named Teemo and a Duros name Vix.

"Come on, double or nothing, you can't do the knife trick when you're this drunk." said Teemo.

"Wanna bet?" Kale asked before downing the last of his ale and pulled out his vibroknife. He closed his eyes and willed his head to stop swimming, with just a touch of the Force to help him out. He knew there was a Jedi technique for sobering up and/or fighting poisons, but he didn't know it.

He placed his hand on the Plasteel table, made sure the knife was turned off before taking a deep breath and exhaling to calm his mind. "There is no emotion, only peace." he thought as he opened his eyes just in time to begin the first stab beside his hand. A blur of two dozen stabs later and he stopped stabbing, finally taking another breath.

"Poodoo," Teemo said, "I was hoping you'd cut off at least one finger."

"Well, that's because you're a psychotic sack of bantha poodoo." responded Kale, his voice flat. Vix burst out laughing at the insult and Teemo just gave him a mean look. "So, the money you owe me?" Kale held out his hand, careful to hold his thumb over the slight cut at the base of his index finger.

"How about double or nothing, one hand of Sabaac?"

"Come on, you already owe me 100 credits." Kale responded. "Do you really want to owe me two?"

Teemo shook his head and handed over credits of assorted denominations. Kale walked over to the bar and through down a 10 credit chip, putting the other 90 in his pocket. "Round of drinks for me and my friends." he said, and the bar tender knodded. Kale turned to look around and noticed an Echani woman entering the bar. Kale went over to her and bowed slightly. "Kale Durron." he said, locking eyes with her as he bowed. "May I buy you a drink?"

"I don't think so." she said, "I'm here for business, not pleasure. So unless you can point me in the direction of a cargo pilot, please get out of my way."

"Well, Miss..." He waited a few seconds for her name, but when she didn't offer it he continued. "It just so happens that I am a Captain and am currently available for hire." He motioned towards an open booth and they sat down.

"Is it fast?" she asked. "The cargo is somewhat time sensitive."

"It'll make point 4 past lightspeed." he said.

"Good. And how much would you charge?"

"Well, that really depends. What kind of service you looking for and how far away? Further and fewer customs inspections costs more."

"Dantooine." she said, "and I would like to avoid Customs inspections, if at all possible."

"Well, that's going to be a bit difficult," Kale said, scratching his chin. "Ten thousand, all in advanced."

The white haired woman smiled. "I was thinking more like two thousand now, another ten when I make my delivery. I can't risk you taking my cargo after all."

Kale nodded. Twelve thousand? She must be pretty desperate. "Deal," he said, "Docking bay Nine."

The woman stood up and stepped away from the table. "One more thing before I can consider this deal closed. I need to make sure you can defend my cargo." With that she pulled a stun baton from under her jacket and swung it at Kale's head.

The people in the bar knew not to get involved so it was up to Kale to fight his own battle. Kale ducked and rolled under the table, jumping out afterwords to attack her legs and knock her down, causing her to drop the stun baton. They both got up only for her to kick at him. He managed to catch her foot with both hands, only to have her grab a metal pitcher off of a nearby table and throw it at his head. The shock made him release her leg and she brought the leg down, shifting her momentum for a left hook. Kale sensed it coming just in time and pulled a chair up to block it. The now-dented chair flew from his hands, but he had an opening so he swung at her face. She responded by sidestepping and chopping with her hand at the base of his neck. His body went limp as he fell over one of the tables and she walked over to pick up her now-inactive baton, tucking it back into her jacket. "I'll be at your ship with the cargo and credits in one hour." she said softly, leaning next to his ear. "I would like to leave as soon as possible. And try to sober up some." She sat a bottle of Rapid-sober pills beside his head and walked out.

A minute later he got a numb pin-like feeling over his whole body as feeling returned and he got up, swallowing one of the pills with a cup of Caf Vix offered him. "That's once way to check your employee's credentials." the blue man said.

"Yeah. It's really effective." Kale started to walk off, bottle of pills in his pocket, and turned around. "Listen, I'm going to need to find a crew. You two are fugitives or I'd hire you." They nodded. "I'll call you if she needs anything forged or sliced, though." Kale waved goodbye and walked out of the bar, immediately getting on his commlink to call anyone who might be able to help him on short notice. The pay was good, but with less than an hour to go, he might have to settle for whoever called back.

3,957 years before the Battle of Yavin Harma a former Jedi and member of the Cyphan community. She was on a salvage run getting supplies for her little repair business. She came across a Darksider wielding a strange staff it was brown in color, one meter in length and four centimeters in diameter, it was crooked at one end, with a blue shining light at the other. She could sense how powerful the staff was, she couldn't be sure but she believed to be some kind of dooms day weapon. She was determined to destroy it at all costs. She fought the Darksider for hours with the help of a timely shot from Tee using the cannons on the Crimson Canary she was able to snatch the staff away from him. She wanted input from the Jedi Council before she did anything with this staff. Before she could get back to her ship the Darksider was able to catch up and take the staff back and unleashing a Force storm creating a hyperspace wormhole that transported her and her ship 3,953 years into the future on a different planet. When Harma regained consciousness the first thing she noticed was that this was not the same planet, the second thing she noticed was that the ship was heavily damaged. She rushed inside to find Tee severely damaged. She deactivated him so she could repair him with what she had at least long enough to get him somewhere more equipped to handle the damage. Quickly she learned that the little droid just looked worse than he actually was, not something she could say for her ship. She reactivated Tee. "You scared me buddy. Some mess that bastard got us in. Ship can't fly right now. Somehow that staff transported us to another planet. Stay with the ship I'll go find out where we are and see about getting parts to fix the ship.

---

Jhoren's rebel unit was on Akiva fighting against the small Empire presence. Jhoren was scouting when she came across a female Jedi in a very nonstandard Jedi robe fighting against Stormtroopers. She joined the battle. Once the battle was over Jhoren introduced herself. "Why did the Rebel Alliance send you here? We have it completely under control. We should have it liberated within the month." Harma introduced herself. "You're rebelling against the Republic? So in the few years I left the Order the Republic has allowed itself to fall that much?" Jhoren looked confused. "The Republic became the oppressive Empire with a Dark Lord of the Sith as it's primary enforcer. What rock have you been living under? We better hide the bodies and get back to my base before they go missing. You don't want them to send Vader after you."

Harma followed Jhoren back to her base. She studied Jhoren's outfit it was clearly not standard Jedi attire or even modified Jedi attire like hers. She was beginning to think something other than being transported to another planet happened.

At rebel's base Harma noticed tech way more advanced that she was used to. "This may sound strange but what year is it?" Harma had to stop and think a moment. One of the other rebels spoke up first. "25,039 GSC" Harma was flabbergasted, she was 3,953 years into the future. "That fucking asshole!"

The stench of Jedha City invaded Talen-Jei's nostrils like an uninvited guest, forcing him to unconsciously wrinkle his snout, as if willing the foul air to disappear. A sprawling mesa of cramped buildings, littered streets, open markets choked by fumes and the gaggles of pilgrims and travelers all pushing past each other, the Holy Land had seen better days.

Up above, a lone Imperial Star Destroyer hovered above the City, an eclipsing reminder of the Empire's ubiquitous reach and authority. The Temple of the Kyber sat dormant in decay, a mocking memorial to those who still follower the Way of the Force. Its Guardians forced onto the streets with the rest of the commoners, and its Kyber Crystals ransacked, the Temple was little more now than a pathetic reminder of a time before the Empire.

Talen-Jei had arrived on the desert moon mere hours before, a cramped occupant on a passenger freighter designed for occupants mostly smaller than he was. Cramped and sore, Talen-Jei found himself despising the City almost the moment he stepped off the freighter. Outside the Mesa there was nothing but jagged rock, desert spires, and dry sands. The Hunt was nonexistent here. But a man-made jungle had formed itself within the Holy City's markets. Charlatans and illicit traders preyed upon unwary pilgrims and unaccustomed travelers, looking over their shoulders in fear of spotting an Imperial Patrol. There was no honor amongst these predators, only profit. And Talen-Jei was disgusted by it.

Fighting against the current of spacers and wanderers into the heart of the market, hawkers calls and offers of fine sales fell deaf on Talen-Jei's ears. A few brave peddlers would go as far as to try and stop Talen-Jei by provocation with a tap on the shoulder or a quick tug of the arm, but a low growl and brief flashing of teeth were more than enough to send these few scurrying off like swamp rats.

A pang of hunger gnawing at him, Talen-Jei found a small food stall, tended to by a foul-smelling Aqualish chef garbed in a stained apron over dirty clothing. Seemingly unfazed by the wary, at best, cooking conditions, Talen-Jei handed the alien a small handful of credits from a large, clawed hand, receiving a chipped ceramic bowl in return, filled with still-wriggling tentacles from some undisclosed cephalopod swimming in thin broth.

Finding a spot secluded from the swell of the crowd near the once-grandiose entrance to the Temple of the Kyber, Talen-Jei let his back meet against the stone wall of an adjacent building, gravity letting him sink to the dirt ground beneath him. Unsure where his journey would take him, Talen-Jei could only keep his mind in the present, there was no looking back. Nothing to gain from there.

Yomi stepped back through the dusty rock walls, carrying a tray of food and tea in his hands. He slowly made his way back over to Kit, who was staring at a newcomer. Yomi sighed, and sat down slowly onto his piled rock stool, placing the tray on the floor with a 'clank'. Kit was jarred from her stare, and her eyes shifted to the tray, her hungry stomach a little more than excited to see the plain portioned food, and tea.

Reaching over, she grabbed a hunk from the tray and began stuffing the dry breadlike food into her mouth. As she scarfed the food, Yomi stood once more from his perch, disappearing into the depths of the small home he was allowed to keep of the temple (the rest? Confiscated by the Empire months ago).

"That looks disgusting.", Kit finally spoke up, not expecting an answer. Hell he might have not even heard her. The creature might not have even spoke common galactic. She continued to scarf her food, as Yomi exited once more, kicking her leg out of his way, on the move to the stranger. The old man leaned down, a bowl in his hands, and simply sat the bowl at the stranger's side.

"Eat.", Yomi muttered, waving a hand in the stranger's face, before returning to his perch to claim his own food again. Kit pulled her helmet closer to her side, slirping her tea loudly as she chomped, "And you. Manners."

"Yomi...manners?", she asked, her eyebrows raised high.

"My home. Sacred home. Manners...or no food."

Sighing heavily, Kit supressed an eyeroll, carefully sipping her tea quietly, "Manners..."

---

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The jungles of this mysterious planet didn't seem to slow down his movements. A mysterious force had been pulling him along, as it always has. While he didn't particularly like these type of wild places, he could at least stomach it if he had a reason to be there. After stopping for a few moments, he closed his eyes once more, and stood silently. "Somewhere....close by." He opened his eyes slowly, turned his head to the direction where he felt the beckoning call, and pressed forward, deeper into the belly of the never-ending wilderness.

At that moment, he came upon a rushing river. He knelt down, cupped his hand in the water, and splashed it a bit on his face to cool himself off from the heated environment. He stayed crouched for a few moments before turning his head to the right and noticed something peculiar: a structure. "What have we got here?" Gaelden stood up and made his way over to the crumbled remains of what appeared to be a wall. "Must be another temple...there always are when I follow my guts." Wiping his hands off, he went upstream some more, until the ruins of an old temple were in his sights. From the look of things, it appeared to be a Jedi Temple. Well, almost. To Gaelden, Force Users were all the same.

He walked up the Temple steps slowly, keeping his eyes open for any wild beast or an Imperial Patrol. For all he knew, they could have set up on the planet and came to either destroy or collect the ancient knowledge stored deep in the library. He reached down to his holster and kept his finger on the trigger.

Inside the halls, there was nothing but master architect that was slowly being overtaken by the vegetation outside. Seeing an a pile of rubble ahead of him, he went to investigate. From what he could gather from the small cracks and crevices between the rocks, there was a library. Looking up, he noticed that the rubble had been from another floor above him. Thankfully, vines hung from the small opening. Taking a hold of them, he slowly climbed up, making his way to the second floor. Again, through his small exploration, he noticed many types of rooms. Living quarters for the Jedi, classrooms for Initiates and Younglings, and even a sparring room where a Battlemaster once taught aspiring Jedi of the order. His eyes darted to his right and he found a staircase. Inspecting the integrity of it's foundation, he slowly stepped down.

Luckily, it did not give way, and Gaelden was inside of the library in no time. Unfortunately, he would find nothing but destroyed shelves of datacrons and holocrons alike. That was, however, when he felt something. The Force beckoned to him once more. He stared in the room silently, unsure of his next step - the Force, even though he never knew, had always told him where to go. However, something felt off about this once. Against his better judgement, he made his way over to the object that he sensed, and knelt down. "A lightsaber." He picked up the broken weapon and inspected it. It appeared to have been destroyed in some kind of explosion. As he further inspected it, he noticed one part remained undamaged - a green kyber crystal. Cautiously, he took it out of the hilt, and stood up. "This is what I was being lead to? Thing's probably useless...maybe it'll sell on Jedha or something. There's always nutjobs on backwater planets that are willing to buy stuff like this." He placed it in his satchel and made his way back to the ship.

The trip took quite some time to make back. The sun had already began to set and the starts were slowly becoming visible. Gaelden sat down in his pilot seat quietly, reflecting on his find, and started the ship up. Once more, he would go to another planet, hoping to sell his findings. Once more, he would get nothing but pocket change. Once more, he would continue his mundane treasure hunting.

Kale had just gotten back from delivering the droid and boarded the ship when the door to the docking bay opened again and the Echani woman walked in with a grav-sled loaded with four crates. Luckily Kale had managed to find a copilot and gunner on short notice, so she wouldn't have to find out that he didn't have a crew. He ran down the ramp and greeted her. "Hello again. Let me load these crates for you." he grabbed the sled to push it up the ramp. "My crew was busy when I called them, so they'll be a few minutes, but don't worry. We'll be leaving on time. Just don't be suprised if they are hung over too."

He moved a floor panel and started lowering the crates into the floor. "It seems you are prepared for smuggling, Captain Durron." Kale hadn't told her his name, but she must have heard it somewhere. He was fairly well known on the station, after all.

"Well, not all cargo jobs out here are exactly legal. Case in point." he waved at her now stowed crates and put the floor panels back over the three compartments.

"In that case, I take it you have a way past the cargo inspections?"

"Yeah," he said, walking into the proper cargo bay. "I wait for one of the periodic gaps in their scans and fly through. Should be the same as a few years ago. If not..." he motioned to a crate. "Two thousand credits worth of Antaran Musk. Perfume. Not illegal, but highly taxed on import. If we do get caught, we give it up and they think that we were merely trying to avoid the tariff. That way they don't scan us and find the smuggling compartments."

"The compartments aren't using jamming to prevent scanning?"

He smiled. Seems she'd smuggled things before. "They have some, but if I shield it too heavily they'll get a dead zone in their scans and know something is up. As is, without knowing what you're paying me to move I can't know if it will be detected or not."

"I thought you didn't ask questions." she responded.

"Oh, I wasn't asking. Just letting you know that no smuggling compartment is perfect." The console started to beep, notifying him that someone was cycling the airlock to the docking bay. "Looks like one of my crew is here Miss...?"

"Snow." she responded.

"Well, I'm Kale Durron," he responded, heading towards the ramp, "but I guess you already knew that." He hit a button and a door opened to a room with only a bed with drawers under it. "Not exactly roomy, but at least it's private. The 'fresher's across the hall." He hit the button beside a door across the hall and the bathroom door opened. A toilet, sink, and small shower was inside. "Mess is down the hall. Only have packaged meals and synth nutrients, but the journey's only 27 hours or so, so it's not that bad."

"It's fine, I've lived under worse conditions before."

With that Kale nodded and went down the ramp to greet his new crew.

---

Wind whipped as blades against the traditional Jedi garment Draven wore. He had been hiding on Or Tuma so long his hair and beard began to match the nigh-pure white coat of the planet's surface. Honey-skin showed no signs of age despite the decade and a half which Draven resided there. Typical rigors of Jedi training absent--owed to his hermitical life--he had the spring and spirit of a man ten years his junior. He was, no doubt, still in his physical prime and perpetual winter made him look and feel so. No contact with the outsidee world, he had spent the last fifteen years biding his time and waiting for some sign of hope. In all these years, he heard nothing; it did not help him that he had not bothered to break himself from isolation in order to seek out this elusive hope--better yet, do as a Jedi should and initiate a rebellion against this galactic tyranny himself. Draven couldn't, if for no other reason: his years of training and meditation did nothing to rebuff his cowardice.

Draven Windu lacked his father's iron will, but his capacity for empathy was deeper. He was frightened of what was out there, afraid to step out into a galaxy which surely did not mirror the same one Draven abandoned; more than this, he was afraid of how far the wraith hand of the Empire reached. Not since the Purge had he felt the Light's beat, but he had felt it dying. Now, he sensed nothing at all--and if he continued in this manner, he would never sense it again in his lifetime. There had to be something, someone out there who had rallied against the great monster. He knew he could not continue in this impotence, much as he desired it. Or Tuma's seasons never changed, and there was no appropriate clothing but robe and thick bantha hide. Few Bantha existed on this torpid rock, instead the Bantha came into Draven's possession thanks to some bargaining with the local Twi'lek population. It was a gift--and a people, most importantly--he was fond of, unbeknownst to the people themselves.

This Twi'lek settlement and its dwellers called to mind pictures of Raylah's stories she used to tell Draven about her homeworld. Yet, none of them were her. There was no love there, Draven assured himself. It was the sole, interpersonal relationship he had left, and in truth it had become the one thing tethering him to the world around him. Without it, it was likely he would retreat into meditation for the rest of his days. Attachment is what his patron Jedi were adamantly against, it bred reliance on things that did not last, and those only became gateways to pain. Draven rebelled against those teachings then, and he did so now while warming himself inside igloo-style lodging and sitting net to a rising fire. In Draven's right hand there was a cup of Bark tea, bitter and almost coarse as chewing bark itself. It went down hard, but it settled Draven's uneasy stomach.

In a small chair in front of him sat a tall Twi'lek male, he was considerably older than his ilk. Torvin Drallis was old, even for a Twi'lek, in his dark red face there was wisdom. Torvin spoke,

"Is this truly what you want to do?"
"Really? I am not sure. I believe I am ready, but the world has changed so much." The elder Twi'lek chuckled during the beat, his personal confirmation of his advancing age and his own slipping understanding of a passing world,
"Well, we don't need you bothering us anymore, hm?" Torvin continued, Draven sawed a smile on his face. Draven knew Torvin was right, he had grown accustomed to the people--not so much the near desolate planet itself.

Draven finished the Bark tea and rose to his feet, the Jedi robes he dawned were somewhat stiff from the chill of the outside wind. The fire, which burned too bright and hot for a few sticks of wood, kept burning its at an ominous height. Draven gave Torvin a nod, a solemn acceptance of Torvin's advice, but Draven knew not what he were to do, but he knew where he was to go: a merchant planet nearby, Nag Ubdur. If the hand of the Empire reached far as Draven suspected, he would find answers there, where life bustled. Back to his personal hermit hole he went to procure his weapons, none of which he could use in the open once he visited Nag Ubdur for fear of the eye of the Empire. He would use other measures. He moved to the small ship the Twi'leks and himself built. It was time to step back into the world.

"That looks disgusting." Talen-Jei looked up from his bowl, eyes narrowed in an intense expression befitting a predator catching sight of prey. His gaze locked on the source of the remark - a Mandalorian - or someone armored like one. Mandalorians were fierce, deadly hunters, with a history soaked red with the blood of a thousand conflicts. Talen-Jei held respect for those who stuck true to old traditions and codes of honor. They understood what it meant to be Hunter or Hunted, and they refused to be the Hunted. Nevertheless, so many had fallen from their station of glory since the Mandalorian Civil War. Pacifists. The very thought of it made Talen-Jei grimace. There was no shame in the honorable Hunt against a worthy foe. But the remnants of the warrior culture, Death Watch, the Shadow Collective were a mere shadow. Most Mandalorians now seemed to be freelance assassins and bounty hunters who's honor was measured in credits alone. Honor was cheap.

"Devoured worse." Talen-Jei replied curtly to the Mandalorian woman. As if to emphasize, he snapped up one of the tentacles in the bowl with an almost visceral hunger, his eyes never leaving her as he did so. The woman was young, at least by human standards, if Talen-Jei remembered correctly. But that youth was tempered by fire and forged in battle, he could see it plain as day. She was half-blind, at least by his initial examination, with scar tissue not inflicted by blaster or saber. No...shrapnel. He had seen such scarring before.

Talen-Jei shifted his head as an old man approached him, bent with age and dressed in clothing that easily identified him as one of the priests of the temple, maybe a Guardian, Talen-Jei was uncertain. The old man placed a bowl of food at Talen-Jei's side, bidding him a simple command to eat.

Talen-Jei bowed his head in respect, "My thanks." He replied, letting his head hang low for a moment longer before grabbing the new bowl to see what it contained. Under normal circumstances, Talen-Jei would refuse charity out of his own personal sense of honor. But such disrespect against one of venerable age - a priest no less, would be debasing.

As the creature answered her, she raised an eyebrow, truly not expecting an answer. She finished off her tea, and sat her dishes back onto the tray. Yomi slowly munched on his food as Kit's gaze switched back to the stranger.

"I haven't seen you around. How long have you been here?", she asked, her attention changing mid sentence to watch a group of Stormtroopers stomping by. A few of their heads turned to look her over, as if her appearance alone was a threat to them. One tightened his grip on his blaster, nearly raising it, before continuing his march. Kit scoffed, her own hand having gripped the small blaster at her hip, just in case.

"No.", Yomi muttered, waving a finger at her. When her hand didn't move from the blaster, Yomi leaned toward her, picking up his cane. He struck her arm harshly with the heavy piece of wood, causing Kit to growl, but to settle, "I said no. No violence here."

-----

TK-6158 was hungry. He was hungry and tired of patrolling this horrible city. It was so dirty, and lost. It was depressing, if he was honest. It reminded him way too much of the last time he had stepped foot on Mandalore.

Speaking of Mandalore.

As his patrole group rounded the corner of the "abandoned" temple, Valek caught a glimpse of something he hadn't noticed before, a Mandalorian helmet. Towering over said helmet, was a girl. Her facial features looked familiar, but only vaguely. She didn't seem hostile, but part of him knew she had to be. A Mandalorian in a city like this? She had to be a mercenary, or worse, a bounty hunter. Mandalorian bounty hunters were impulsive and loud. They made bigger messes for the Empire than anything else, and left cleanup for those that they supposedly supported. Along with her was a Trandoshan. Partners? Both together threw up a red flag. He growled low, too low to transmit through his vocal receiver, and began to raise his weapon.

His partner, TK-3147 reached a quick hand out, lowering the barely raised weapon gently, with a slow shake of his head. Huffing, Valek burned the image of the girl's armor into his brain, and continued his march.

A young woman of moderately small stature made her way through the narrow alleyways of the holy city of Jedha. Her pudgy fingertips plucked at the walls that lined the path ahead of her. She felt a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t sure if that was from the cold or from the unsettling feeling brought on by looming imperial guards and pilgrims from nearly every relevant star system in the galaxy. It was probably some combination of the three. Her face lit up with with an electric blue tint as she studied the datapad she held in her hands.

On its screen was the image of a holoprojector component specifically made for the R3- designation K-6 astromech droid units. It had taken her quite some time to track one down. Reaching into the satchel that rested on her hip she held out a holoprojector component that looked to be of a similar make and model. She compared the two carefully. She sighed, and as she did so, her breath lingered in the air like hot vapor. Following her sigh was a warm smile.

Behind her the echo of all too familiar droidspeak filled the alleyway. Its sounds were deep yet almost feminine in nature. They were slow and concise in some strange way. Still, even more strange was the level of warmth and comfort its voice provided. The droid's inhuman sounds made it somehow more alive.

“Alright Kay-6, let’s open you up.” Tanda’s voice still carried with it an air of youthfulness and naivety. Still somehow optimistic in a world that sought to snuff that hope out at every turn. The mechanic approached her droid pulling out an array of tools as she did so. The droid only responding in its usually beeps of compliance.

A cacophony of tinkering and droidspeak filled the empty alleyway. For Tanda the noises were loud and uncomfortable; unnerving in the same way that her late night fridge-raids while her father slept were. She appeared to be quite handy in the realm of mechanical engineering. She stepped away from the droid and smiled as if lauding over her own handiwork.

“Crossing star-systems just for that…” the girl sighed to herself before motioning her droid to follow behind her further into the alleyway. “Remember Kay-6, if dad asks, it was Naboo.” Her companion met her with apparent protest.

“Yes, I know I’m a terrible liar. That’s why you’re going to lie to him.” Tanda stopped as she kicked up a pile of sand to kneel on. Lira’s gold and brown color scheme served as a compliment to her owners own attire. Now in front of her droid she rubbed her gloved hand along its head. As she did so Kay’s head twitched slightly as if encouraging the embrace.

“One day I’ll find a way to open that data card input,” Tanda said as she continued to fidget with the buttons that lined the droids exterior. She knew that trying to pry open the data card slot manually would only damage what was inside, and that was the last thing she’d wanted. Flicking on a switch, and lightly banging on the droid’s head a projection shot out.

There the hologram of a woman appeared. Her resemblance to Tanda was uncanny.

---

“Is it..is it working,” the woman started. The drum of mechanical sounds and light banter in the distance accompanied the voice. The voice itself sounded slightly matured, but in some ways still youthful. It was loving, but also tired.

“Okay…” the woman sighed in contentment.

“Hey, honey...Tanda. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Daddy promised that he’d save me a piece of cake when I got home… It... looks like I’ll be staying here for a tiny bit longer; so I need you to make sure that it’s locked up tight. We both know how hungry daddy gets after snack time.”

The woman chuckled softly before continuing.

“Listen...sweetie, I’m sorry that I can’t be there for you right now, but mommy is out making sure the monsters can't hurt any more people...I have all of the drawings you've made right here on my datapad; they’re so gorgeous honey. Mommy is very proud of you.” The woman took a pause clearly holding back tears. She steeled herself and continued.

“Var, I know it’s been difficult. I haven’t been able to keep up with communication as much as I’d like, but it seems like we’ve finally been making head way. The victories have been small...admittedly, but it’s starting to look like we might have a chance in this thing...so...go team?” She let out a sigh that implied hints of laughter.

“I just wanted to tell you both how much I love you, and miss you. It’s tough...I know. I can’t imagine what you must both be feeling, and I’m sorry for that.”

“But I’ll be home soon. For now…for now just remember that I’m one jump to lightspeed away.” The woman’s face turned away as if recalling a fonder memory. Her gaze quickly shifted back as she giggled.

“And no, permission to build a hyperdrive motivator, denied. Now back to your post so-” before the woman could finish the sound of a door opening made the audio playback glitch slightly.

“Major Wein you’ve been summoned by the Commander,” a man, who completely oblivious to the call, interrupted.

“Right away.” Wein nodded in compliance which was thankfully enough to make the messenger leave her quarters. She stood up from her seat before walking closer.

“Well...that’s me. This is Lira signing off, for now.”

---

With that the holoprojection abruptly ended. Wiping a tear from her eye Tanda sat in silence for a moment- or at least she would have if not for the chirping of her droid, Kay-6, beside her.

“I think he’ll like it too, Kay." The whites of her teeth showing through a cracking grin. "Let's go, the sooner we're off of this moon the better."

---

---

---

---

Gaelden pressed a few buttons as he began to enter the atmosphere of Jedha. He flicked on a switch and an alien voice could be heard. Although it was something entirely like gibberish, Gaelden understood it completely. He had a run in with this man before, as Jedha was one of the best places to sell artifacts that had a bit of mystical, Force magic to them. "Yeah, I've got another haul today. I'll be sure to give you five percent to pay for my ship's occupation." The voice seemed a little upset, as if accusing him of something in the past. "I just didn't sell that much last time. It'll be better this time." The voice was silent, until it spoke up once more. "Yeah, you take care too. Thanks again." With that, the ship landed in a small, secluded area. As soon as it had touched the ground and the engines were beginning to die, mechanics quickly ran over to inspect and take care of the beauty. He walked out of his ship, his holster on his waist and sleeves pulled up. He looked down at his blaster licence and gave a small nod of approval, before placing it in his pocket, and moving on. "Make sure she has enough fuel!" He called out to the mechanics before making his way into the Holy City.

Jedha was always a strange place to him. Priests and monks of all shapes and sizes wandered the streets, as they always had. It was because of that damn Temple of the Kyber that so many people followed the Church of the Force. The Force was a troublesome thing, only there to bring about some kind of pain to the galaxy and it's inhabitants - at least, that's what Gaelden thought. Due to how crowded the city was, Gaelden didn't have any problems shoving past a few of the 'faithful.' Unfortunately, his rude behavior made him suspicious in the eyes of an Imperial Patrol, and he was called out. "You there! Halt!" He turned to face the trooper almost immediately and gave him a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Good afternoon; what can I help you with?" Gaelden said, his hands in his pockets.

"Show us some identification - and your licence for that blaster." The menacing white figure commanded without any sign of sympathy.

"Right away....here you are." He handed the trooper the licence and his identification. For his occupation, he was stated as being 'self-employed.'

"What do you do, civilian?" The trooper demanded, his eyes never leaving the cards. Of course, it wasn't ever as easy as that to tell from behind the mask.

"I mostly just collect scrap parts and help out with some repairs. I was born on Ord Mantell - my father was a retired Naval Officer for the Republic and my mom was a mechanic. I help her around when I can with fixing things, but I just started my own business a few planets away. I heard from one of my customers about this place and I just had to see it for myself. See, I don't get to go around that often for my own private time, and I just love to sight see. I think I've only been to around five planets before. This one would have to be my sixth and it just beats the hell out of some of the others. I think I'd like to go and stop by Coruscant some time though, because I heard tha-"

"Shut up, you. Here - take your identification and licence and go about your business." The trooper frustratingly handed his cards over to him, but they had dropped to the ground, as he had immediately let go and signaled his patrol to follow him.

Gaelden wiped his mouth and the slightest grin escaped the corner of his mouth. He may not have been that smart, but he sure as hell was experienced. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was getting out of a situation by running his mouth. He knelt down, picked up this things, and continued on his way until he reached the temple. He took a few steps up and stood at the entrance. He didn't want to walk in - he hated these types of places. However, business was business. So he walked in, albeit slowly, and called out.

"Excuse me? Is anyone present?"

It been fifteen days since Harma had arrived on Akiva since then she had come to the conclusion her precious Crimson Canary was done for but she did have her eyes on a sweet new ride, just had to find one and steal it or win it. Yesterday the Imps blew up a school killing hundreds of children and numerous adults. A janitor working at the school was blamed for the explosion because he was using the basement of the school to build bombs for the Rebel cell operating on Akiva. It of course was not true but the Akivans believed it none the less. Almost every member of the cell had been captured and beaten to death by angry citizens. Harma and Jhoren barely made it out of the city to their YT-1000 light freighter. To draw attention away from their ship she blew up the Crimson Canary. The angry mob went to the explosion to find any survivors to murder.

Once they were safely away. "Where the frag are going to go now?" Harma was not used to such senseless slaughter of innocents. Jhoren had Tee take the controls. Jhoren grabbed Harma. "Calm down. I know of one place that might offer us some help. The guy is an extremist to the extreme, the Rebel Alliance refuses to acknowledge him. We might not have any choice though. The only person who knew how to contact the rest of the Rebel Alliance had his head caved in by the people we were trying to help. He's currently operating on Jedha. There is also an ancient Jedi temple there as well. Don't expect to much from it, the Imps would have taken or destroyed anything of value or use."

Kale deactivated the hyperdrive and returned to real space flying straight at Dantooine, closer to the planets than normal. He pulled back on the controls and went into orbit, noticing that there was already a Star Destroyer there. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Snow gave him a look of slight contempt.

"Probably just a hangover." He set landing coordinates for one of the settlements at Snow's command and he started towards the planet, only to receive a signal from the Star Destroyer. Kale answered it.

"Unknown Freighter, this is the ISD Requiem. What is your cargo and destination?"

"Just some trade goods. Droid parts, some Corellian Whisky and the like. I was hoping to offload them and take a load of food to Corellia." The rebels had hit a Imperial run chem plant about three months earlier, ruining fertilizer and 'ponics chem production, so Corellia was experiencing a bit of a food shortage.

The console beeped, showing that they were being scanned, and the ISD responded. "Very well. You may continue landing. Be advised that terrorists have been detected on the planet. Any interference with Imperial efforts to stop them will land you in prison."

"Thanks for the warning." Kale said, restarting his approach to the city.

Soon they had set down at a landing pad and Snow made an encrypted call. A few minutes later a Twilek in a hovertruck showed up and they transferred the crates over. "Come with me, Captain." said Snow. "I'll make my delivery and pay you the rest of the money. Your crew can come too if you want." She and Kale climbed in the front, letting the crew sit in the back, and drove out of town. They eventually made it to the ruins of an old temple. "Follow me."

She lead him inside, where over a dozen people worked to restore the structure. "Snow." a woman said, walking over to them. "I take it this is the Captain who brought our cargo?"

"Yes, sir." Snow replied, "I owe him ten thousand still."

Kale knew that his attention should be on business, but he table with various artifacts on it and felt drawn to it. After glancing over what they had found in the ruins, his gaze locked on a blue crystal.

"Do you see anything you like?" the woman asked him.

He nodded and picked up the crystal. "What is this?"

"Kyber crystal, from Ilum. We found what could be the remnants of an ancient lightsaber with it, but it was corroded too badly to be certain. The Jedi used to use them in constructing Light Sabers, though that technology was never shared with the galaxy at large. Do you want it? Street value is around one thousand."

Kale nodded. "Then I guess you only owe me nine thousand."

---

A few hours later Kale lay in his bunk, thinking. They had offered him more smuggling jobs, but the crystal seemed more important somehow, like the job can wait, but he needed to learn about the crystal as fast as he could. But how? There weren't any Jedi around to teach him about it, and the Empire wouldn't do it. An archeologist maybe? No, they would see it as an artifact, not as a...

Kale couldn't find the right word. Friend? College? Pet? Labor animal? None of those seemed right, but he could Feel that it wasn't just a normal crystalline material.

There was only one place that could tell him what he knew and wouldn't think him insane for having a connection to a mineral deposit. The Temple on Jedha. Kale walked to the bridge and activated the intercom. "I'm going to make a quick stop by Jedha, in case you were wondering why we aren't going straight to the station. Don't worry, I'll pay you standard rates for the additional time. Now, check in so that I know you're on board and we'll be off."

Talen-Jei let the Mandalorian's question hang in the air for longer than a moment. Though his reptilian features made reading his expression all but impossible, the Hunter emanated an air of contemplation.

"New here. Arrived few hours ago." He eventually replied, finishing his sentence with a near-animalistic snort, a verbal tic many Basic-speaking Trandoshans appeared to suffer from. "Not my final destination. A stop along the way. The Hunt lies before me." Pausing to shovel more food into his maw, Talen-Jei felt his blood freeze in his veins as an Imperial patrol seemed to take special interest in the group, the twitching muscles and tightening grip betraying one of the soldier's brief, fleeting intentions to raise his blaster. Perhaps fearing a scene - or wanting to cause one. Talen-Jei felt a growl unconsciously leave his throat, but otherwise did not react. The Empire had known his face on Kashyyk, first as a rebel, then as a slaver. The idea that one of the troopers here could be the same on Kashyyk was nearly-impossible, but that did little to assuage Talen-Jei's paranoia, the instinctive desire to stay alive.

Turning back to present company, the Lizard at first let silence fall upon the trio, saying nothing. The Old Priest rebuked the Mandalorian with the sternness of a grandfather, while the girl conceded to him, however begrudgingly. "What brings Little Mandalorian to Holy City?" Talen-Jei finally broke his own pact of silence, eyeing the girl inquisitively. His continuing association with strangers surprised even himself, but to travel the galaxy as a loner was dangerous. The Priest had shown him kindness, and the girl was with him. He would repay their kindness with civility and honesty. It was all the currency he seemed to have left.

Kit leaned her head down, attempting to catch her breath from the sudden adrenaline rush that worked its way through her body as the Troopers retreated. Yomi seemed concerned but satisfied that she settled, placing his cane back against the wall. He smiled warmly at the question being asked of Kit, knowing that she hadn't had much contact with other beings, humans or otherwise, outside of this temple.

Kit looked back up at Yomi, and sighed, the painful reminders of her past being brought up, "I don't normally talk about it."

As the broken whisper left her throat, Yomi grunted, taking a long drink of his tea. Kit's eyes met his and she sighed deeply, "Um...Not by choice. My-ah...my family were killed during the Jedi Purge. Mandalore was under control of some...some horrible people. The Duchess was murdered. My family. My mother died to try and save her, during the small rebellion. My father..."

Kit broke off, a tear threatening to sting the corner of her eye, before she gritted her teeth and stared down at her once bright blue armor, "My father died during the seige. If not for Barron, I would be dead. But, he abandoned me, here."

Yomi grunted once more, "Barron was a Clone Trooper. Cut his chip right from his head, and saved this one. She was lucky, and brought to us by the force. The force wanted you to survive."

"Yeah. The force...", Kit whispered once more, "I couldn't tell you why..."

Accidental post.

---

The cargo freighter landed with an audible thud, it was hauling food and water for the city, and a number of guards were hired to protect the crew in the case of a pirate boarding action. Actually a fairly large number. The route the captain chose for the haul was a dangerous one, patrols were infrequent, and pirates were plenty, looking to hit any cargo ship foolish enough to take the route. But it was the quickest way to Jedha. Unfortunately the guards weren't notified of the route until after they were en route. This included one Verro Tallav, who ended up being the most experienced merchant guard there. Many of the hired guards were young and inexperienced, thinking that a ship hauling food and water wouldn't attract any attention. An easy job for some easy credits.

When the pirates ambushed the freighter, apparently they didn't get the memo that this was supposed to be an easy job for a beginner crew and guard compliment. They struck first with ion cannons, disabling the ships engines and defensive systems. Then they boarded the freighter. The crew panicked, the guards got scared, and Verro quickly picked up his blaster carbine. He was quickly beginning to regret taking this job, but the destination was Jedha. The Jedha City. Verro quickly rallied the inexperienced guards and had them hold critical choke points while the crew worked on bringing the ship systems back online to contact an Imperial patrol. The pirates were ruthless, thinking that the cargo hold contained treasures or relics. Greed blinded them to the truth. The engagement lasted about four hours, once the communications were brought back online, the captain was able to contact a nearby Imperial cruiser, which came to their aid.

When the freighter landed and the doors opened, the air of Jedha City mixed with the somewhat stale recycled air of the starship. Verro furrowed his brow at the smell of the fresher air. The smells of Jedha City came with it. It was... not as bad as some other places, Verro decided. He pulled up his cloth mask over his face in an attempt to filter some of it out. He stepped off the ship, onto the firm dirt of the city. He felt the sand crunch, the chilly winds bite at his exposed skin, and the occasional heat wave from the still warm engines of the ship. It was good to be back on a planet. Verro looked up, seeing the singular Star Destroyer, looming over head. He sighed quietly, the Imperials didn't put a ship like that just anywhere. They were doing something here, and someone was pushing back. Verro walked towards the spaceport exit, following by half a dozen other merchant guard. A small squad of Stormtroopers stood by the gate. One approached Verro and put his hand up.
"Halt. Papers please." The Stormtrooper requested.
"Of course." Verro replied politely. He unplugged his earpiece and took off his backpack, setting it on the floor. The communicator module of the backpack was blasted and destroyed. Verro unzipped a pocket and took out a small folded piece of paper, handing it to the Stormtrooper. Verro then unzipped his jacket and took out a small booklet from under it. The trooper flipped through both pieces, occasionally glancing at Verro. He noticed two more blaster marks on Verro's body, one on his gut and another on his chest. The Stormtrooper looked at the blasted backpack.
"Bad day at work?" The Stormtrooper asked, tilting his helmeted head. Verro simply nodded. "Everything's in order, here." the Stormtrooper handed back the paper and booklet. Verro took back his papers, zipped up his jacket, put his backpack back on and headed off into the city.

He had a couple of things to buy. A few power packs for his blasters, a stun grenade, but that wasn't likely to happen, two medpacs... luckily he had just been paid, and was a couple hundred credits richer. He walked through the busy market, managing to find himself two medpacs to resupply himself, some power packs for his carbine but none for his sidearm. He also needed a new communications module, or someone who could fix it. Verro wandered for half an hour before hearing something. By luck, chance or something else entirely, he heard the chirping of an astromech droid over the sounds of the busy market. The guard wandered towards it, hearing more chirping, then someone talking as if replying to it. He was close now. Though he couldn't make out the words said, or understand the binary that the droid was speaking. If that person owned an astromech droid they were likely a mechanic or pilot, and could probably have a spare communications module. Or they'd have enough mechanical knowledge to fix the one he had, or maybe even the astromech droid could fix it, he reasoned. After a few moments more, Verro glanced around a corner and saw a shorter, darker skinned woman in front of an astrodroid. He blinked for a second, then cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to have a spare communications module, or happen to know how to fix one?" He asked, taking his backpack off to show her the damage.

- Unregistered waystation, Outer Rim

The constant patter of blaster fire rained down against the durasteel of crates and hull, mere debris earlier and now life-saving cover. On either side of the hallway two women of remarkable similarity sheltered behind it, one grimly checking the readout on her blaster pistol, seemingly unconcerned with the sheer volume of fire. The other was just a little more concerned, holding her hands over her lilac-hued hair and sitting in a tight ball, the occasional whimper sounding from her corner. Staring across, the more resolute of the two sighed and sent over a telepathic signal across their shared force-bond.

++Sena, stop crying.++

Her sister's panic was clear, even without that connection, as she had only seen actual combat once. That was a subject they tried their best to avoid, though it seemed always eager to find them. A gentle warmth against her back and the acrid stench of scorched durasteel emphasized that their cover was quite temporary, though where they could go from there was incredibly limited. One end of the hallway was blocked by the dozen-man squad of stormtroopers actively trying to kill them both, and the other was the bulkhead door to the hangar. So close, yet so far away.

Requiem spoke out at that moment, calling back to the troopers in yet another vain attempt to persuade them against their current course of action. "I-if you guys would b-be so kind as to please stop shooting at us, that would be greatly appreciated!" The obvious response followed, an increase in the hail of blaster-fire against her side of the hallway, more than a few whizzing past and striking the bulkhead door. Her sister cried out, pulling tighter against herself and trying to put as much of the barrier between her and their assailants. If only she could shake herself free of this panic, then she could use her force-abilities to at least distract the troopers, if not take down a few. At the moment though, that was easier said than done.

Solace grimly rubbed a pair of fingers at the corner of her right eye-socket, it sitting empty of the cybernetic that normally occupied it. She wondered which would be worse, actually surviving this and having to shell out the credits to get a new one, or dying in a nameless space station in the middle of nowhere. Those eyes were pretty expensive… At least she had a spare pair in the ship, but that still meant getting to it. Oh well, better to go down in a blaze of glory than unremembered...

---

- Three hours earlier…

The Absolution drifted lazily towards the dock, maneuvering thrusters firing to gently coax its bulk into the hangar. A few of the mechanics looked up, some making signs of warding as they saw the pock-marked hull and stark gunmetal grey color. Sure, she had been beat up a bit in her long life, but the ship was reliable and had gotten her owners far in the short time they had been together. With an agonizing wheeze, the ship set down on its landing gear, everyone jumping slightly as it shifted a bit and looked dangerously close to hitting the deck. From the cockpit Solace looked over the controls, her force-sight easily interpreting not just the read-outs but also the environment around them and what the sensors didn't say.

"Do you have the list?" She called back, though she didn't have to turn around to see that her sister wasn't there. A sigh followed, and she gently tapped into the force to determine where she had gone via their shared link. It was sometimes an inconvenience, especially when her sister was in one of her moods, and she knew that often enough her own emotions transferring over weren't entirely appreciated. Yet neither sister could imagine what they would do without the other, and that bond let them always have a connection, regardless of where they were.

It had taken only a moment, but Solace found her, right where she had expected. This was a relatively out of the way station, the coordinates shared between Free Traders and Bounty Hunters. As such, it was unregistered with the Empire, and didn't see too many of their kind. That meant that it was safe for Requiem to follow along, as she rarely disguised her heritage as she did. Sometimes she felt like the elder sister, always looking out for the younger and more innocent one, but as they were twins, that didn't quite hold.

++When you're done, make sure to put down hydraulics for the landing gear on our list.++

Another benefit of sharing a bond through the force, she didn't have to shout across the ship at her sister. All she had to do was strengthen the link enough for her thoughts to transfer, allowing them to telepathically communicate. It had been weird when they first learned of it years ago, and very awkward for her more pure sister on those rare occasions, but with some control they learned not to overshare.

++Okay Verra, I'll put it down. Oh, can we pick up some more of those fruit things?++
++You mean the melons we got from that smuggler? Those were pretty expensive Sena…++
++Ye, but they were pretty nice…++
++... Fine, I'll see if one of the traders on station has any. Just make sure you get those parts!++
++Of course! You're the best Verra!++

Solace grumbled, getting up from the pilot's seat once she had acquired clearance to disembark from the dockmaster. Regardless of being out in the middle of nowhere, she still didn't like to linger, and would have rather made this an in and out trip. Yet once again, her sister had convinced her to let her stretch her legs a bit and get off the ship. It wasn't exactly what she preferred, in that Requiem really wanted to be out with her when they stopped at each planet, but it was for her protection. She didn't seem to understand that the galaxy was a different place now, and that their people were not welcome in many areas due to their affiliation with the force and the Empire. That one stung a little more than it should, the thought of other Miraluka out there willingly working with the Imps.

She shook those thoughts from her mind and focused, this was a rare chance to relax a little bit, and if her sister was going to take that opportunity, then so was she.

---

Sights and sounds surrounded her at every turn, the bright flash of signs detailing wares from the menial to the illicit and everything in between, as well as the calls of merchants seeking a sale from their fellow traders. It was a peculiarity among its kind, a waystation between trade hubs, but one that did its best to stay under the radar. As such it was a haven for smugglers and bounty-hunters, with facilities eager to service on the downlow. For one such as Requiem though, it was all the more amazing, as she experienced so little of the galaxy since they had gone on the run. Each face that turned to meet hers found a smile spread from ear to ear, the woman greeting nearly everyone on her little journey to collect supplies. She was a curiosity even before her boundless enthusiasm made itself present, as her eyes were covered by a tightly bound cloth, the emptiness of the sockets quite evident.

Not too many of her kind made their way beyond their home, especially with the Empire in control now. It was a bit of a double-edge sword in that respect, as it meant that most simply assumed her a blind human, but those who did recognize her species for what it was, did their best to refrain from associating. She didn't mind them, and understood why they did what they did. The Empire was pretty scary, and she didn't want to get them in trouble just for talking to her. So she simply smiled and waved as she passed, drawing confused looks all the way.

Most of the supplies they needed were for the ship itself, their home among the stars, and she had them taken to the mechanics there to undergo installation. Other things such as foodstuffs and home items were crated up and sent to the hangar. Solace would probably put them away in the cargo hold, she was fairly strong so she didn't worry too much about it. If she needed help, then all she needed to do was call, she was always around to answer. Speaking of which, Requiem had just taken care of the last item on their list, plus the assorted clothes she found, a couple ornaments for her room, and a perfume for herself as well.

++Verra~ I got the list of the list, it's all in the hangar!++
++Understood, I'll take care of it and meet you in the cantina.++

She truly felt her sister was the best, always doing most of the work in taking care of them. A thought came to get her something nice while they were there, but a glance into the small purse at her hip showed little in the way of credits left. Perhaps she should have been a little more reserved in her personal spending… Oh well, it was done now. Besides, she really liked the colors on that jacket. Not worrying too much more over it, the idea was gone the moment she turned around to get her bearings again. She brought a hand up to brush her lilac dyed hair out of her face, though it was a pointless gesture since she saw through the force. The station's layout slowly formed in her mind, a path showing from her current location to the small bar in the central areas. With a smile on her lips, the young woman was on her way again.