---

---

Only a few moments was all Kada allowed herself to take before getting back to work. "Okay!" Kada said as she stepped away from the assembled Mandos. "I'll head out first and a do a lil meet and greet, should keep the crowd happy! Then we'll be on our way." She said with a bright smile, earning a simple nod from her family as she spun on a heel and proceeded towards the exit with an obvious bounce in her step. Behind the Togruta, her ever-present shadow of an IG unit followed along closely as if preparing for some imminent threat that never seemed to arrive. As she touched the panel to slid the access-way open, Kada was immediately greeted by the sounds of over-eager cheers and calls for her attention. A typical scene on arrival, but always a bit of a rush to the girl as she bounded out towards the waiting crowd. A brilliant smile on her lips, and waving with both hands as she approached right up to the waist-high barrier that'd been set up to keep the crowd away from the disembarking popstar. Already, the Togruta noticed a couple of Holocams pointed her way and reacted appropriately. She struck a few poses, blowing a kiss directly towards one of the cameras so they'd have plenty of good angles to publish later. Better to control the angles they got of her than letting the cameras catch an unflattering look. With her lekku twitching eagerly, Kada once more waved to the whole crowd best she could.

"Wow!" She exclaimed, playing up a shocked expression just a little bit for those who'd gathered. "Did I miss somethin'? No way you're all here for me!" She said, offering a playful expression as she stuck her tongue out for a moment. Then she moved towards the barrier, offering a hug to a human girl who seemed like she was about as thrilled as she could be. Somewhere in the crowd, Kada heard a call saying something along the lines of 'we love you' and blew a kiss back in that direction. "Well, since you're all here anyways..." Kada said softly, turning away from the crowd as she gestured towards IG. The droid turned back towards towards the access way, saying something in droid-speak. Moments later a floating holocam came through on its own, making its way towards Kada and the assembled crowd behind herself. "Lets get a memory of this, yeah? Everybody gather up, come on~!" She called behind herself, waving the crowd in as she put one arm around a fan on either side of herself who leaned in enough. Both hands held up two fingers in a 'peace' sign as she wore a dazzling smile, waiting for the camera to flash to tell them the picture had been taken. The Togruta released her two victims, spinning around to thank them both and wave once more towards the assembled crowd. "I gotta get going, or IG's gonna get real grumpy with me for running late!" Kada called to her fans as she spotted her family making their way through the access way. "I better see you all again at the concert later. Our picture will be on the Holonet, so make sure to go look at it~!" She called, before swiftly turning on a heel and heading down the hall with a couple more waves and blown kisses.

"I've no clue how you do that, ad'ika. Handling crowds like that." Came her father's voice from off to her right, earning a little shrug from the Togruta. "I just like people! It's fun to interact with them all..." She said softly, giving a friendly smile and a shrug. "I do, however, need to stop by a droid repair shop if ya know one? IG's wrist actuator is a bit messed up and I don't have the parts." Kada said quietly, even as one of her uncles immediately stepped forward. "I know a real good one, The Magic Mechanic. Alanna is second to none." The man said, earning a raised eyebrow from the Togruta. "Sounds to me like a crush, Uncle Artak." Kada said to the clone trooper walking with the group... and earning him a healthy amount of laughs aimed at his direction. "But sure, lead the way?" Kada asked, although she could practically see the blush under the man's helmet.

Not long after, Kada followed her Uncle into the shop. The man calling out as he entered the shop some flirtatious remark that Kada didn't particularly pick up. Still, the Togruta rolled her eyes a bit as she stepped into the shop and was followed quickly by IG. "Hello? Uncle Artak here said I could come here for droid repairs? I've got an IG unit with a broken wrist actuator, and I didn't have the parts to fix it. Are you able to help?" Kada asked softly, looking around for the owner of the shop...

---

Tybren | Mandalore | Keldabe, Administrative District

_{Mentions:@Quest Abandoner}

---

The narrow lanes of open sky overhead were beginning to fade, gradually turning the color of new-kindled flame. Feeling somewhat stifled by the rush of people so near at hand, Tybren turned his face up to greet the gathering dusk, rapidly cooling meal momentarily forgotten as his thoughts inevitably returned to his duty. It was about time to get going. The friction at the Mand'alor's celebration between the Masters of the Enclaves and the various other Jedi factions would likely be reaching a critical point tonight, and it was his job to make sure nothing came out of that aside from a few bruised egos. He begrudgingly spooned up another heaping spoon of spice-clogged broth. Getting shot at every day was preferable to standing in a stuffy room listening to some puffed-up -

“Sometimes, I think starving would be preferable to Mandalore’s food. Ain’t never developed the taste for it, myself.”

Tybren's head jerked automatically towards the speaker, a tall human man that had lumbered his way out of the crowd, speaking as casually as if they'd been sitting here swapping jokes together the whole time. A very tall man. Too tall to be anyone else, really.

“Ain't seen you in some time, Tybren. How you been?”

Too slow, too stupid, that about sums it up for right now. The thoughts went unspoken as he took in the visage of his onetime comrade-in-arms. Older, more weathered. Still looking like he headbutted a vibroblade every now and then. Not so different from himself, all things considered, but life on the Outer Rim tended not to be kind to those in their line of work. Luckily, Rask seemed to be happy to see him. If he hadn't been, there probably would have been several fresh blaster holes in Tybren's head as of right now. It had been a very long time indeed, but the Mirialan hadn't forgotten the speed of the other man's draw.

Slowly, summoning as much grace as he could after being caught so shamefully, Tybren picked himself up off the bench. Even standing, it was a challenge to look the old boy in the eyes, as tall as he was, but he did so while returning the trademark carefree smile with a small one of his own. He reached forward to clasp an arm in greeting as Rask came close enough.

"I always heard it said that if you could survive the food, you'd be halfway ready to survive the people. I guess now and then I still have to get some practice in."

He pulled back with a dry chuckle, dominant hand coming now to rest ever so lightly on the hilt of the beskad at his side.

"Rask Coburn. 'Some time' is underselling it a bit, I'd say. I'm still kicking, myself."

He eyed the man warily now. Despite not being in any immediate danger, he couldn't bring himself to place any trust in the outlaw, not after the things they did. After Kamino, Tybren had... lost himself for awhile. Dove a bit too enthusiastically into his work, took some bad jobs. He had lost some honor during his run with the Irregulars, to be sure, and being reminded of it now didn't exactly bring back any warm feelings. His eyes cut across Rask's gear, looking for any hidden weapons, and caught the very obviously positioned Regulator badge. Now that was new.

Did he actually go straight, or is this some new ploy?

What's he doing on Mandalore?

It might have been that ten years ago, Tybren would have just asked him to his face. If Rask was here to disrupt Founding Day somehow, he had to know. But too many years in Jedi council chambers and training rooms had turned a merc's brittle tongue soft, and nowadays he had to think twice about trading barbs with anyone he met aside from certain oafish Gotals that sold lousy food. With a bit of an effort, he put Tybren the mercenary away, and brought Tybren the politician out once more.

"Of course, it's a bit different nowadays. I'm retired, mostly. Doing a lot more talking than shooting." He eyed the other carefully, hand now a bit more firmly on the pommel of his beskad. "What about you? Here for Founding Day, I'm guessing. You still... working?"

Entering Republic of Mandalore Space
Silver Fang Vessel Guiding Light

The Guiding Light shook violently as Vorax heard the whine of the hyperdrive generators grow louder and louder. The Guiding Light had taken severe damage over the course of the battle but Vorax was unaware of how much damage the hyperdrive engines had taken. So far, the five surviving members of the crew were on the bridge, doing their best to keep the ship going until they could find someplace to hopefully make repairs and possibly attempt to meet up with the refugees they had sent to the Republic of Mandalore before the battle had started.

Torro approached him from the side and motioned at the hull integrity monitors as the ship continued to shake violently. "We can remain in hyperspace for another five minutes before we risk the ship tearing itself apart. We are close enough to space claimed by the Republic of Mandalore to possibly reach a repair station, we just don't know if they'll consider us hostile or not." Vorax sighed heavily. "This would be much easier if our reputation had not been ruined by the huttssss. Granted, with the number of slaves we freed from their greasy clutches there is no way to avoid it, but still, it would be easier to find someone willing to repair our shipssss. I tell you my friend, We have been labeled as pirates by most of the known galaxy thanks to those damn slugssss."

"We are not pirates! We are freedom fighters and liberators!" Despite the fact that his mechanical vocal cords usually made his voice sound flat and mechanical, this time he somehow managed to add a low angry growl to it. "If we can somehow meet up with the refugee fleet I'm sure they will speak the truth. We will finally be recognized as what we are: Heroes!" Vorax turned to look at his first mate and shook his head. "We did not do this to be seen as heroes, my friend. We did this because the hutts have enslaved so many across the galaxy. We began this crusade against the hutts so that sentient beings under their rule had a chance for freedom." Torro looked at his captain and nodded. "Of course, sir. Forgive my enthusiasm."

Vorax clapped his first mate on the back and smiled a toothy smile. " It'ssss alright, my friend. You are right though, if we can meet up with the refugees we sent ahead it is possible they can explain that we are not pirates. And the more they believe we are not pirates or trying to steal from them, the greater the chance they will let us us dock at a repair yard."

"Approaching Mandalorian space, sir."

Moments after that announcement, the Guiding Light suddenly dropped out of hyperspace and and the lights around the bridge suddenly began to go out one after another. "Status report!" Vorax shouted. "Bridge functions are being rerouted to deck four!"

The communications system suddenly activated and an unwelcome but familiar laugh boomed across the bridge. "I didn't think you had it in you, little lizard, to vent the decks. It was a valiant attempt and it may have worked had you used the technique a few minutes earlier. Thankfully, I was sealed up in the engine room along with my guards. One last chance, little lizard. Surrender yourself. Or I will vent oxygen from the bridge and watch as you and your men die gasping for air."

Torro and Vorax looked at one another. "Why won't that damn slug die?!" Vorax growled angrily as Torro barred his teeth. "Is the distress call still transmitting?"

"Yes sir, it looks as if they haven't deactivated it yet."

"Keep transmitting, and let's hope someone hears it. In the meantime, try to keep him from carrying out his threat."

---

---

Grand Bazaar of the Uniter, Keldabe, Mandalore.
25th Founding Day, Noon.

---

"Lor'ika. Mixed and wrapped. Two skewers and extra sauce, please."

"You want a drink with that, Vod?" The apron and armour clad woman behind the counter asked, her skillful hands already going to work while her visor remained locked on her customer— if not cocked to the side only slightly.

"Oh, shit. Yeah, big bottle of uj'gal if ya got it." Toryn replied, tossing the front of his gam'surpan over his shoulder so he could fish through his wallet, count out a few coins. Placing three on the counter and another pair in the tip jar.

For that, he received a nod in the affirmative, a friendly click of the tongue, a bright red glass bottle casually tossed into a waiting hand and an infiltration of a familiar scent of spices and cooking food that both put him at ease and made him even hungrier as she got to work.

Lor'ika— literally; 'Little Meats', thin strips of marinated and spiced meat cooked on a skewer with sauteed mushrooms and vegetables over a grill or hot plate, intermittently brushed with oil and sprinkled with a little extra spice before being drizzled with a sweet sauce and either served on the skewer, as bits on a plate or, as he preferred it, tightly wrapped in a toasty flatbread made on the spot— had been a staple street food of his people for Ka'ra knows how long, and a personal favourite of his since he was a boy. The longtime presence of Mandalorian mercenaries on the Huttese moon he once called 'home' insuring both that one was never too far from a stand and that of what few memories Toryn had of that distant time, one thing he recalled with absolution was of how much he loved going to the one across the street with Ruusad and Zara a few times a week. And how the old Mando cook there would just snort and stuff a bit of extra meat in there because the three of them looked 'too skinny'.

Something approaching a little chuckle escaped the Jedi at that thought. Pleasant and sad all at once.

The lor'ika on Keldabe was good, yeah, but he'd never quite found something that beat ol' 'Mama Mando's' in the years since.

...Ka'ra dammit he was making himself hungry; ten hours of work out on Taris and two more of travel time back had left him with just enough time to toss his armour in the ol' sonic scrubber and catch a quick nap before throwing it all back on again and heading out to Keldabe for a debrief. Before being sent back to the Dog to scrub his armour again and throw on a fancy poncho because apparently he had dinner reservations.

Needless to say, there hadn't been a lot of time between then and now to cram food into his face-hole. Or get some shut-eye. And with a few hours to go before the Feast, Toryn knew in his heart of hearts that if he tried to take a quick nap somewhere, he'd somehow wake up to either a disappointed Taung hauling him to his feet or, far worse, a certain Arkanian shaking him by the throat.

Honestly, the whole thing was giving the man three different kinds of headache. So much so that he almost didn't notice the approaching figure behind until they'd already bumped into him.

"Oh, my apologies..."

"No worries, Kiddo. It happens."

Toryn said with a shrug, instinctively checking that his wallet was still there as he gave the newcomer a quick glance; some kid in their early teens. A girl, dressed up in an Imperial uniform, near-human with blue skin just a tad too light to be pureblooded Chiss or Pantoran, a face speckled with Mirialan tattoos around the bridge of her nose, scarlet eyes (currently locked on the food being prepared) and a bob of raven hair with a slight green tinge to it.

Toryn didn't need much thought to figure out what her heritage could be.

For her part, said kid took a few seconds before she found the courtesy to actually look at the man she'd bumped into. And honestly, the look of wide-eyed shock, and open-mouthed frozen horror was the funniest thing he'd seen all day.

"You are... The Hound of Mandalore..." She finally managed to squeak out after a half-minute of awkward silence.

Toryn winced internally; he never really liked that name, though he'd never show it. Least of all in front of a kid.

"That I am. And you..." The Mandalorian stated neutrally. Coldly, even. Managing not to crack a snort as the kid visibly flinched at his words. "...Look hungry."

The twist of visible confusion on the poor girl's face was enough to finally break the dam. And out a little chuckle came from within Toryn's helmet as he turned his visor back towards the woman behind the stand, whom he noticed was having a chuckle herself at the whole thing.

"Can I get that last order doubled, Vod?"

"I'm not opposed to taking your money, Mr. Hound."

---

'And here I thought I was the one starving.'

Was all Toryn could think around a mouthful of food, watching the little blue terror seated next to him on the fountain's edge outright tear into her food like a starved kath hound. The quiet, awkward yet polite creature of about fifteen minutes ago lost in a ravenous hunger for cooked gizka, bantha and very quite possibly— he mused with a raised brow— anything within grabbing distance that had the misfortune of being made of meat.

If there was any confusion as to at least one side of this kid's family, that display pretty much killed it.

Still didn't stop the Mando from speaking once he'd swallowed his own mouthful, though.

"Gotta hand it to ya, Kid." he said, popping the cap off the girl's drink and handing it to her, which she took with an enthusiastic nod and a loud swallow before knocking it back to take a big gulp. "Most Imperials I've met shy away from our food."

"THAD IJ BEGUJ—"

"Swallow and breathe, Kiddo." Toryn cut her off.

"Apologies." The kid began again, after a moment of chewing and swallowing. "But if so many of my countrymen are so desperately frightened by food such as this, then I regret that you have apparently met only the cowards."

...Oh, he liked this kid.

'Maybe there's hope for the Empire, yet.' The Mando thought as he handed the girl a napkin, making a quick motion with his finger to let her know how much of her meal she was currently wearing as a face decoration. Leading her to hastily wipe herself.

"Forgive me again, I am usually more... civilized... when I eat." She said between wipes.

"Don't worry about it; you're on Mandalore, we don't have much in the way of formal rules for dinner etiquette, and the one's we do have, you're basically following right now anyway." Toryn replied with a slight wave of his hand as he took another bite of his own meal. "'Sides, I've been around Chiss most of my life. I'm used to seeing that metabolism and especially that appetite in action."

The girls eyes narrowed for a second.

"I never said I was—"

"You're at least half. There's hungry, and then there's Chiss hungry. And if you've seen it even once, you'll never mistake it for anything else... well, all that, and I've yet to meet a non-Chiss kid that talks quite like you do."

The girl maintained her stare for a few seconds more before a slight upturn of her lip made itself known on her features.

"Observant... you are not quite what I expected, Hound." She said finally. "That is a pleasant surprise."

"Oh? By all means, what were you expecting." Toryn replied, taking a swig of his own drink.

"Well, according to some in my homeland; You are a Hero of the Empire, but serve different masters. You prowl the Galaxy, striking down the wicked, that fire, vengeance and fury live upon your blade and that wrath erupts from your body as lightning!" The kid explained with gratuitous flare, ham and hand gestures unbecoming of a Chiss before adding, quite flatly; "...Also, I thought that you would be taller."

Aaaand, out Toryn's nose that drink went as he desperately managed something that was all at once a wheeze, a cough and a laugh.

"Ffffucking WHAT?" He managed, between yet more laughter, even as he clenched his nose in pain. "Are you serious?"

"Extremely." The kid added, with a non-plussed tone that made Toryn laugh just a little more. "So you can understand how... reassuring it is to see that you are actually quite normal."

It took Toryn a good few minutes to recover from all that, before wiping away a tear and holding his drink out to her to toast.

"My name's actually Toryn, by the way."

"You may call me Tanis." The kid replied, clinking her bottle with his and taking a drink.

"Huh. Small Galaxy."

"Pardon?" Tanis inquired, head cocking to the side.

"Eh, Doesn't matter— Ever been to a range before, Tanis?" Toryn asked, brushing the earlier question aside.

"I have, to learn how best to defend myself and meet benchmarks set by my tutors." The kid replied, with a slight nod.

"...Ever go to one just to blow something up?"

A moment of silence passed between them. And Toryn could almost hear the cogs turning in the girl's brain as a downright diabolical smile formed across her lips.

"I have not."

Toryn met that look with a little smirk of his own as he turned his attention back to his meal.

"Well, I got at least five hours of nothing to do after I finish this. So blowing shit up is what we shall do."

Maybe... just maybe this day wouldn't be too bad, after all.

Elam gave a nod of ‘thanks’ as Talnel complemented his Tuk’ata, but letting the man speak his piece before replying. ”Firstly, let me lay a fear of yours to rest. In Mandalorian Space at least, they’re not really going to care too much about Force use of any kind, so long as you’re not posing a threat.” Shifting in his seat he shrugged a bit. ”The Enclaves may make a bigger deal of it but from what I’ve read compared to the old Republic era Order, they’ve lightened up quite a bit and their authority only really extended to members of the Enclaves and their properties; As for the Argent? That was bad luck on both our parts. I never figured they’d come to Mandalore, or that if they did they’d be stupid enough to try something like that under the Mandalorian’s noses…they really don’t appreciate others trying to enforce foreign laws in the GRM.”

Standing, he began to go through various cupboards and drawers before finding what he was searching for. Returning to where they sat, he handed Talnel a datapad before sitting once more. ”Jedi teachings have some ‘spiritual’ stuff about selecting the various components for a lightsabre, but as you could probably guess, I don’t put much stock in that. What you’ve got there is a spec sheet of what you need; power ranges for emitters and power supplies, suggested layouts for grips, switches and the like. It’s a bit vague I know, but every sabre is a custom thing, based on your fighting style etcetera. With the exception of the crystal, realistically you can probably build one out of any decently stocked droid/speeder shop or ship repair dock. The crystal itself…” He frowned a bit and sighed. ”Like I said, I don’t think I’m much help to that end, though maybe try asking around the Council of Iron?”

Elam could immediately see that Talnel seemed more than a little wary of that suggestion, so he smiled with a bit of a placating hand wave. ”I know, I know, you’re cautious about this stuff; but they’re actually pretty cool for Jedi. They’re the ones who’ve largely ‘gone native’ as it were and trend more towards Mandalorian style pragmatism…and they’re pretty open to the public, folks are encouraged to just drop in and hang out. Fun bunch, do some pretty good barbecue.”

”As for pay?” He shrugged and made a vague gesture at the ship around him”Normally my rates are…significant, as you can probably guess; but hey I know where you're coming from, new to the wider galaxy as it were unsure of both your place in it and who, if anybody, to trust. To that end, this is all ‘on the house’ as it were; it never hurts to have a few friendly faces in my line of work.”

@Sep @Queen Arya



Sable watched on in disappointment as Alanna walked out the door to go to work. She could be damned Stubborn sometimes when she wanted too. Of course Sable knew why she was doing it, she was lonely but wouldn't admit it. And when Sable or anyone else would point it out she'd deflect with sarcasm. ”Oh well.” Sable said to no one in particular as he rose from his seat at the island, it was Sable's job to protect his Master, not to be her therapist. No, she already spent a stupid amount of money on one of those already.

Attached to the spacious kitchen was Sables “room” if you could call it that. It was little more than a glorified broom cupboard containing his charge point and storage for his various stuff mostly weapons but also a few spare parts and the occasional trophy. Though most of his good stuff was locked away in his own personal vault. Sable entered the room and grabbed what he'd need for the day; Credit stick for the buying of things he wanted, a bag for the holding of the things he wanted and lastly, his blaster pistol, because some people thought it was smart to try and rob an HK droid without a restraining bolt on.

Stepping out of the apartment he made sure to lock the door behind him before exiting the high-rise building onto the busy streets. Even so early in the morning the place was busy, Founding Days usually were but with today being a special one everything seemed to just be more compared to the last few years. Pulling out the small to-do list that Alanna had left him, Sable headed off into the city.

First on his list was to go and see Vik at the Scruffy Nerf Herder. It wasn't a far walk from Alanna's apartment but with streets being closed off and others too packed to pass through it took Sable over 40 minutes to get to the Port District. Even after a decade it was still amusing to Sable when he saw people's reactions to him walking the streets unrestricted, no restraining bolt or owner in sight. Of course many of the locals were used to him by now but the way visitors and tourists, especially the more upper-class ones, reacted to a droid just wandering around always bought him some small amount of joy.

As Sable approached the door to the bar he could see it was already busy inside with spacers and locals gathered around the entrance, some drinking while others complained about having to work on Founding Day. Before he could push the button the door opened and a man came flying out, landing with a thud on the concrete next to the droid. Sable looked up and saw Vik standing in the entrance barking some rather strong language in Mando'a that Sable would definitely not be repeating. Viks eyes shot up and met Sable's optics and he visibly relaxed a little. “Sable… this is a surprise. Is Alanna not with you?” He says looking around, almost disappointed she wasn't present. ”Greeting: Hello Vik, no, Master is not here. She has decided she will be working today.”

Vik shook his head and chuckled. “That girl I swear. Oh well, to what do I owe the pleasure Sable?” He said, gesturing Sable to follow him back into the bar as he did so. Inside it wasn't as busy as Sable thought it would be, every booth and barstool was occupied but no one was just standing around drinking like they normally did, instead they had spilled out onto the streets to enjoy the festival. ”Statement: Master sent me here to work, I believe I dented your floor a few weeks ago.” Vik turned to him with a shocked look on his face. “Lanna sent you to… work? For that? Is she mad.” The last part was more of a statement than a question but Sable would let it slide this once. ”Correction: Master is not mad. Master is feeling guilty over the incident.” Vik shook his head and sighed. “So she is mad then. She honestly thinks I'd expect her to pay the bill for that? Nonsense, I got the guy you put on a ventilator to pay for it, it's his fault after all. People should be able to enjoy their time here without being harassed, Lanna especially. So you can tell your Master she doesn't owe me a single credit.” The tone of Viks voice was very matter of fact with his final statement. ”Query: So no work then?” The barkeep let out a single amused huff from his nose and shook his head slightly. “No Sable, no work.” Before he could properly finish his sentence the droid interrupted him ”Jubilation: Excellent news, I'll be off then.” before the Mandalorian had a chance to return Sable retreated a faint “Yeah sure, thanks for coming… I guess.” Could be heard as he did so.

Back out on the streets Sable headed off to his next task. “Bring coffee to Master” wasn't technically on his list but he knew she'd never turn it down. A short walk from the bar was Nanna's cafe which by mid-morning was overflowing with tourists and locals alike. Much like outside Sable got more strange looks upon entering but the one who didn't look at him strange was Nanna, she instead looked positively delighted to see the droid enter her shop. “SABLE!” The elderly woman exclaimed in a jovial yet gravely tone, hopping off of the stool she was on she hobbled over to where Sable stood in the queue. By now Nanna was an elderly woman through and through, Stubborn and cantankerous to a fault, her mechanical leg was well overdue for maintenance but she refused to get it looked at which caused her to walk with a noticeable limp on her left side. “You better be looking after that Master of yours.” She exclaimed, whacking him on the back of the leg with her walking stick as she got to him.

Sable buckled his leg at the whack of the stick and dropped to his knee allowing the woman to wrap him in an welcoming hug. ‘Affection’ in a traditional sense was not something Sable was familiar with but Nanna had been kind to his Master despite how much of an ass Sable could be, not even children were safe from him,he was more than willing to put up with her displays. ”Confirmation: Yes I am still looking after Master Alanna, she is working today and I believe a fresh coffee would do her good.” Nanna sighed and shook her head. “That girl I swear, she needs a hobby or some friends or… Never mind.” She cuts herself off and hobbles away and behind the counter for a minute or so before reappearing with a cup and a paper bag. “Here, on the house.” She says while letting Sable take the items. “She's doing work for me anyway and she's not charging me a credit so consider it part of a thank you.” Sable took the items and nodded politely. ”Acceptance: Thank you, I shall get these to her straight away. Have a wonderful day.” The old lady smiled at Sable and then hugged him around the waist. “You look after her Sable you hear, I've told you before and I'll tell you again. She's like the daughter I never had.” ”Reassurance: Relax, there is no higher priority in my programming.” He reciprocated the hug with the arm holding the bag before turning to leave the shop.



So far the morning had gone by more eventfully than Alanna had predicted, the Tusken had certainly interrupted the little world she liked to envelop herself in when she worked but to his credit he was just quietly toiling away in the corner on the speeder bike not bothering her. It was just her, the B1s that Nanna had ordered and whatever music was playing over the radio.

Her peace and quiet was short lived however, another being entered her store, she saw the large figure out the corner of her eye but carried on her work inside the B1s chest cavity. The figure approached the counter and stood for several moments in silence before what can only be described as a series of growls came from its direction. She finally turned her head to see a… Wookie. ”Wonderful, just… wonderful. First a Tusken, now a Wookie. Great day to tell Sable to go have fun Alanna, real smart move that.” she muttered to herself, wiping her stained hands on her overalls before approaching the counter.

How would she approach this? Hand gestures? Did he even understand basic? Or did he just hope that… Alanna's thoughts were cut off upon seeing the stick the Wookie carried with an emitter at the top of it. It was him, the Jedi she'd done work for a while ago. Couldn't remember his name for the life of her but at least she knew he'd be friendly. ”Hi uhhh… I'm really sorry I… can't remember your name.” she admitted, embarrassed with herself as she said it. ”Umm. Sable isn't here at the minute so I have no idea what you just said. Sooooo.

Her sentence was interrupted by yet more people entering her shop though at least this time she recognised one of them who announced himself by very openly flirting with her, something about still being pretty while covered in droid oil, whatever it was it made her cheeks flush a light purple colour which wasn't the most professional thing when having customers in front of her. ”Artak, how nice to see you again.” she peered around the Jedi and saw a Togruta and an IG unit stood behind him in the queue. And if Artak had brought them here at least there wouldn't be any translation issues with the next customer.

”Greeting: Salutations Master I come bearing gifts, oh? Quite the party in here isn't it. She still won't go on that date Artak, you know that right?” Sable. Thank goodness. For once his appearance could actually be a blessing. ”Observation: A wookie, a Tusken and an inferior droid. I feel like there are jokes that I could make but.” He looked toward Alanna. ”With your elevated heart rate I suppose you require my assistance?” Alanna nodded and gently gestured towards the Jedi before her. ”Self-satisfaction: I do so enjoy it when I'm right. Rorwoorr, it's been quite a while, what can we do for you?” Sable turned to the Jedi while placing the coffee and the pastry bag on the counter while Alanna took the opportunity to round the counter and approach Artak and his guests. ”Hey Artak, how can I help?” Her gaze shifts between the Clone, the Togruta and the IG and then back to Artak in sequence.

---

Lyo | Mandalore | Keldabe, Administrative District

---

A halo of random objects floated freely around his head, tumbling end over end in the air as if drifting through the vacuum of open space. A hydrospanner, a comb, a flimsiplast booklet full of touristy Keldabe postcards - these and other things decorating Lyo's small temporary sleeping quarters came together to form a loose circle reminiscent of planetary rings as he sat cross-legged in the center, deep in his meditations. His mind was carefully and studiously empty, deafened to the distracting noise of intrusive thoughts as he listened to the heartbeat of the Galaxy. The little currents and eddies of the living Force swirled around him, and like a practiced tailor he gathered them into a thread that ran through him.

Lyo allowed the Force to flow fully into his body, starting in his chest and spreading through his limbs, making him strong. Only, as it flowed through his cybernetic arm and leg, he felt himself focusing in more deeply on their minutia: the many thousands of wires, synthetic nerves and microactuators that allowed him to move them as if they were his own flesh and blood. The Force was indeed flowing through these machines, same as his real limbs, but he could feel deeply their slowness, their seeming mockery of his desire to move forward unhindered and unafraid. His resentment met their defiance, an escalating crescendo of frustration that seemed to burn, burn like smoking mechanical wreckage, up from his fingertips to his arms, towards his head, to his mind -

And suddenly his eyes were open, his meditation interrupted, the floating objects thumping to the floor one by one. Il-Lyo let out a long, ragged sigh. Damnit. It seemed like there was no escape from the ruin of his body these days, not even in the Force. He lifted his gaze from the floor, only to discover that one thing was still floating, right in front of his face: his lightsaber crystal. Suspended from a chain around his neck, the glimmering yellow shard of Pontite seemed to echo his simmering feelings of annoyance in the Force. He kept it there to remind himself of his old life, and to use in the construction of a new saber, if he ever came by the materials. His superiors had not yet provided them, and he lacked the means to gather the right equipment himself for the time being. As he sat there, wondering if he would ever be worthy enough to carry such a weapon again, he felt the lightest hint of a tug on his neck in the direction of the door, almost as if the crystal had willed itself to move away from him.

Lyo stared, disbelieving, and shook his head slightly to clear it as he released his hold on the crystal and it dropped back to rest against his chest. Must have accidentally moved it without really thinking about it. He did need to get going, after all. Perhaps he had subconsciously been trying to shake himself out of his reflections. The young Guardian quickly scrambled up off the floor, throwing on his robe and grabbing his cane, then pausing to take a deep breath before stepping out into the hallway.

The rhythmic clicking of the cane on hard, polished flooring made for a curious duet with the heavier, less consistent thumping of his cybernetic leg. He tried to be discreet as he moved among various leaders and dignitaries, but in this state stealth was not exactly his best attribute. Occasionally he would lock eyes with someone and a spark of familiarity would run through him. Many of those not wearing armor as they shuffled through the halls had been at the meeting this morning. From his position "guarding" the door, Lyo had gotten a pretty good look at most of them as they made hasty exits from the room, looking to escape the rising tensions within.

He'd been ordered to keep watch with the Mandalorians as the more influential Guardians of the Empire went inside to mingle with the guests and keep a direct eye on their Empress. Once, he might have resented being placed in such a position - a slight on his capabilities and his pedigree. In present times, however, he knew there was little he could do to protect anyone that his peers could not do better. If anything, he was frustrated by the thickness of the walls making it harder for him to listen in on the conversations occurring within. Any tiny bit of new information on Galactic politics would be invaluable to his second family. He had eventually resorted to reaching out with the Force and gently probing the mood in the chamber, taking care not to delve too carefully into any one being's mind so as not to alert the other Force sensitives to his doings.

Even without the Force, it had been easy to hear the Mandalore's sudden sharp reprimand of Empress Renkar. The silence in the chamber afterward had been louder than any of the preceding hum of discussion. And very shortly following that, the attendees began to make their excuses and head for the door. Lyo had felt a vague mixture of amusement and embarrassment as he watched them all go.

The setting sun fell into his one good remaining eye, the pain pulling him roughly away from his memories. He had reached the entrance of the Citadel. Out there in the city was another meeting, one that carried far more weight for him and for his own future. If he wasn't fit to accompany the Empress, then let the Empress take care of herself for the time being. One long, laborious step at a time, Il-Lyo Sechero waded into the Founding Day crowds.

---

"We'll add them to the database, and make sure we catch them on their way offworld." The Mandalorian Clone gave a slight salute, before taking the data-drive back into the security office of the space-port. Crossfire was left standing in a marginally populated segment of the space-port near the entrance, looking up to see a few straggling ships still seeming to funnel tourists in... but at this point, most of the travel seemed to be planetside already. Crossfire had been busy, his digital ticket-book filling up with violations and transgressions as more and more drunk foreigners seemed to be forgetting all sense of laws and decency... not that the locals were particularly better about staying out of trouble. Though, not even a stickler for rules like Crossfire was dumb enough to go citing every bar fight and street brawl... those were just part of the festivities. He set his scanners on thefts, but this was growing stale. Crossfire turned to his nearby speeder, ready to head back to the heart of the festivities.

{"Crossfire... are you still at the spaceport?"}

The Commando stopped, his Captain's voice coming in over his comms. "Yes, sir."

{"Clan Keldau reached out... our long range scanners are picking up a distress beacon travelling through hyperspace towards Mandalorian space. It's not one of ours... and Keldau doesn't want to cause a scene by sending a cruiser to investigate and cause a stir in front of the Corellians and Imperials."}

"What are your orders?"

{"I'm sending you the coordinates. Intercept the ship, board it, and investigate. Report back whatever you find."}

Crossfire smirked underneath his helmet, returning to his speeder and mounting it swiftly as he switched it on. "Order received, sir. Crossfire, rolling out."

---

---

"I'm afraid we might have to postpone the tour of the cruiser. There's some form of state-function party going on that I'm expected to attend. Are you attending?"

Ro Nuul looked towards the setting sun himself, nodding softly as Koren mentioned the festivities. "I will most likely be attending, yes." He heard a slight beeping sound coming from a pocket in his robe, politely bowing a little as he reached towards it. "Pardon me... a moment."

Ro Nuul reached in and fetched a small pocket data-pad, quickly looking over the message he had been sent. He sighed, nodding slowly, before turning back to Koren. "My apologies... but yes, I do intend to attend the festivities. Unfortunately, it appears those aristocratic colleagues of mine will not take no for an answer... I have been selected by a number of them to manage a charitable organization. It is not as thrilling nor as important as being nobility, but it seems it comes with its own responsibilities and obligations." Hidden beneath the goggles and breathing apparatus was an inkling of a sly grin, which was then followed by a more formal nod of his head. The Jedi master reached out a hand towards Koren Omi-Ren for a handshake. "I do hope my politics have not bored you, Prince Omi-Ren. And I do hope to catch you at the festivities. If not... the datapad I have given you should have my contact details. I am always willing to do what I can to aid a fellow survivor."

Talnel listened to what Elam said and was relieved by his words. Showing a half smile. It does seem like he can trust Elam but, Talnel will not tell him everything, and while he has been wandering the galaxy for four years now. He is still new to it and has yet to make any friends or allies during his time among the stars. Not sure who to trust if he was caught as a force user but mainly as a dark sider. Which Elam knows he is force-sensitive, but not a dark sider user it seems. So his Force Stealth is still working. However, Talnel was still reluctant to attempt using a dark side power anywhere, just in case. Since it does turn out that Argent is stupid enough to try to kill someone on Mandalore.

Still, it would be nice to have a friend or at least a friendly face, as Elam put it among the stars for once. Was this the point of his vision? Meeting Elam, or is it something else entirely?

"Well, Elam, thanks for the advice and words, I mean it."Talnel let out a sigh of relief as he said it and stored the datapad away on his person. "You are right about me trying to find me a place in this big galaxy of ours even since leaving home, and I am still new to things. But since you think that the Council of Iron may help someone like me with getting a lightsaber crystal then I will try. It will be my first time meeting a Jedi, but I hope they are as cool as you said they will be and help an independent."

Meeting Jedi, that is something that Talnel did not expect to do today or ever really on the fear of them discovering that he is a dark sider. Someone destroyed Tund, and while he does not think that the Jedi aligned with Mandalore did it. He still is cautious around them regardless and with Elam's suggestion. It looks like he will be meeting some, even if they have gone native, as Elam has said.

"Also, thank you for not charging me. I just have enough to get by and probably could not afford you." The first person he trusts after leaving Tund is a mercenary. Strange how life works and what the Unity guides one to.

Well, Elam I think that is everything I wish to talk to you about." Talnel slowly got up from the couch. "If you still wish to hang out, I will probably still be around, at least for the festival." If not, then it is fine, and it will be good to have and know a friendly face in the galaxy. Especially after dealing with the Argent today."

---

"Rask Coburn. 'Some time' is underselling it a bit, I'd say. I'm still kicking, myself."

Tybren smiled and Rask smiled back. He wondered just how sincere the Mirialan's was. He thought of predators on the Rim that would bear their teeth before striking.

Rask gripped the Mandalorian's beskar-clad arm. A small gesture darkened with a certain ambiguity. He knew full well that the Mandalorian could crush every bone in his forearm to powder if he so chose. Rask thought back to the last time they met. Rask had been a young man then. In his prime and dumb as hell, but getting wise fast. Not fast enough, as it had turned out.

"Kickin's nothin to scoff at. Lotta people from the bad old days ain't around anymore to kick much of anything. After 22 years, seems like theys all droppin like flies."

He thought of all those faces from his past, those he'd never see again and those he hoped to see one last time before he put a blaster bolt through them. The passage of time usually bleached out men's stains, made past infractions that seemed unforgivable in the moment just petty slights after a few decades. Rask hoped that this was true for Tybren for his own sake. To him, though, the past only festered like an untreated wound.

"Of course, it's a bit different nowadays. I'm retired, mostly. Doing a lot more talking than shooting."

"A semi-retired mercenary," Rask chuckled. Not the full story surely, but one he hoped to pry out. "Well if that don't beat all."

"What about you? Here for Founding Day, I'm guessing. You still... working?"

Rask didn't have to look down to know that Tybren was resting his hand on the pommel of the sword at his hip.

Same old Tybren.

He didn't take much offense. Last time they crossed paths, Rask knew he'd been a real bastard.

"I'm not ridin with the Irregulars, if that's what you're askin, or any such outfit. The string on that trade run out not long after we parted ways. For me, anyways."

Parted ways. Pretty way of puttin it.

"I ain't sure if I quit them or they quit me. Quits, either way. I been with the Outer Rim Regulators since then. Keepin the peace on the frontier, or somethin like that. Gave a run at retirement like you, but it didn't take with me."

Rask tried to downplay his status as a Regulator marshal. Relations between the Regulators and Mandalore were rocky at best, and the badge didn't open doors and earn trust on Mandalore like it did elsewhere on the Rim. The Mandalorians were fiercely independent and never much cared for Regulators interfering with their affairs, the Death Watch especially. He suspected they viewed themselves as the inheritors of the Rim, and just saw the Regulators as an obstacle to that. An unfounded suspicion, granted.

Rask pushed his battered wide-brim hat back on his head and looked up at the massive tower before them, like some mountaineer eyeing their next conquest. A problem to be solved. "Hell, I'll be honest, I forgot about the Founding. I'm planetside lookin up old friends is all, just worked out that I ended up here at the worst damn time for it." A half-truth. "You weren't on the itinerary, but I'm happy I ran into ye." Perhaps another. Rask wasn't sure yet.

"You look like you done well for yerself, Tybren. How'd a merc like yourself come into retirement? That don't happen every day. Make it big, or you got a side gig goin?"

Pounding drums cut through the din of the crowd, all in near-perfect unison. A chill ran down Rask's spine though he did not know why. Despite the celebratory mood, the drums seemed ominous to him, some primal herald of blood and fire to come. Mandalore unified after years of strike. He did not think they would be content to sit on the sidelines of the great galactic game any longer.

interacting with @webboysurf

Mandalorian Space
Silver Fang Vessel Guiding Light

"Hostiles approaching the bridge." Vorax looked away from his first mate as he heard the sounds of oxygen being sucked out of the room. "That damn slug. He's got us bent over a crate of blasters. We either stay here and are knocked out and captured or we are forced off the bridge and possibly captured or killed." Torro grabbed a massive blaster rifle and smiled a very disturbing smile as Vorax pulled his double-barrel blaster pistol out of his holster. The three remaining crew members each grabbed a blaster pistol and pointed it towards the door.

"Time is up, little lizard, Once you are unconscious I will drag your body to Nal Hutta and see to it your limbs are ripped from your body by my beasts. Then they will regrow and I will have them ripped off again. We are going to see how many times they can regrow before you die." Torro looked over at Vorax and cracked a wolfish grin. "I think he likes you." Vorax shook his head. "I'm flattered. But I'm still going to shoot him."

It was beginning to get difficult to breath as the oxygen was sucked out as both Vorax and Torro pointed their blasters at the door and opened fire on the already damaged door. After a few moments, a barrage of blaster fire hit the door from the other side and cut through the door.

"Take cover!" Vorax shouted to his remaining crew as he and Torro took cover behind the weapons console as the barrage continued. Torro let loose a snarl. "At least we have oxygen again. Better we die on our feet rather then surrender to that pile of Chobska." More and more blaster fire had reduced the door to rubble and Vorax was about to open up with another barrage of blaster fire when suddenly the barrage from the hutt's men stopped abruptly.

What the...? Why did they sto-DAMN! Vorax had a sudden realization of what was about to happen. Before he could call for his men to get down, four spheres were thrown through the spot where the door had been and a series of white flashes filled the bridge. Moments later as he tried to clear his vision he could hear the sound of stun blasts filling the bridge.

Damn...it. The Trandoshan thought angrily as a stun blast hit him in the chest and he hit the ground with a thud.

As the mercenaries cautiously approached the bridge to secure the hutt's captives, they remained unaware that the distress signal was still transmitting, nor were they aware of the ship's current location. A damaged console that the mercenaries had ignored that still had a mostly functioning display showed a small vessel approaching the Guiding Light.

Rorwoorr chuckled as Alanna voiced her frustration and her inability to understand him, or remember his name. People continued to come into the shop, it was busy for such a public holiday. He recognised the IG unit, and the Twi'leks face was, familiar. Though he could not place it. So it isn't only Alanna that has trouble with names. He bowed to the new comers respectfully, and moved away from the counter out of respect for Alanna and the others within the shop, electing to wait until the chipper murder droid returned from whatever errands it was running.

It wasn't long until he heard its aged, but well maintained, servos. He came in and appraised the room. Rorwoorr laughed at the mention of a 'Wookiee, a Tusken and an Inferior droid'. The Old HK unit was correct, there very likely was a joke to be had there. Alanna nudged the droid in his direction, as the Sable focused his photoreceptors on Rorwoorr he stood forward once more.

”Self-satisfaction: I do so enjoy it when I'm right. Rorwoorr, it's been quite a while, what can we do for you?”

<It has indeed been many cycles since I've been on Mandalore, but duties call me here once again. I apologise that it does so on a holiday. I was wondering if we could schedule maintenance for my Bee-One pilot droids. They appear to be having some software glitches recently. I can perform ship maintenance but I'm afraid anything non-mechanical is beyond my ability.>

---

---

”We got off at the wrong exit.” Came Talik’s response as the dropships rapidly descended towards the planet’s surface. Talik could hear a light whine from the engines as the dropship reoriented to come in on the heading Captain Olkzar had indicated for them. ”We’re moving in from the South, sky’s are currently clear. Should be groundside in fi-” Talik said, being cut off as the ship’s own klaxxons blared a warning and Admiral Yularen’s voice screamed a warning into her helmet. "Landing Party, get evasive! Enemy has rolled out artillery and anti-air units!”

Even as the warning came over the comms, Talik could feel the forces from the LAAT rolling aggressively to get out of the line of fire from the deadly hail of lasers that suddenly lept towards the inbound ships. Talik’s LAAT shuddered violently and the crew within stumbled as the ship was thrown violently to the side, accompanied by a loud boom and smaller rattling impacts against the hull. ”Down one, AA took out the lead!” Came the report of the LAAT’s pilot, and a flash of rage tore through Talik’s mind as she heard the news.

””Admiral! Danger close fire support, I want those guns wiped out!” She shouted, and within moments she heard thunderous roars racing down towards the planet.

”Captain, be advised the Liberator is firing upon the CIS base, we’ve found Artillery and Anti-Air being deployed, and lost a flyer. Securing the landing zone, the facility and immediate south is about to get very hot.” Talik relayed to Olkzar, even as massive red turbolasers tore through the atmosphere with tremendous roars of rage, tearing past the remaining dropships as they tore through the atmosphere before the lasers slammed into the ground with thunderous impacts. Hurling dirt and superheated rock up into the sky with each impact. The destruction slowly tracing a deadly path towards the very guns returning laserfire back up into the sky. A violent, yet beautiful, display of raw power pounding its way down through the atmosphere.

Vorkro had very little time for a witty retort towards his new ally, he had even less time to shout back a warning as lasers lanced out towards the sky toward his incoming reinforcements. He only hoped that whatever ship she had in orbit was in a good enough position to have seen the AA weapons before they were ready to fire.

His heart sank somewhat when he saw burning wreckage and debris tear through the clouds. It spiraled downwards before colliding with the ground beyond his view.

Vorkro was about to give the order for his closest team to move in and secure the site, and any survivors when Taliks voice came through the Comms. Not even responding to her he shouted at the top of his lungs over the din and into his communicator as the sky turned red. "EVERYBODY GET DOWN!!"

He turned and saw Mohira starting to lift off when he shouted, likely not hearing him over the din. He lunged towards her, grabbing onto a nearby tree with his feet he grabbed her leg with his right arm as his left clung onto another nearby tree.

Vorkro for a moment until she managed to power down the jetpack. Pulling her down towards the ground the pair cowered as explosions rocked all around and the ground shook. He peeked from behind his cover but could see nothing but flashes of light, ducking back behind his cover he knew that there would be no knowing the outcome until the bombardment had come to an end.

The doors on Talik’s LAAT slowly, silently slid open. Their sounds overridden by the sudden roar of wind whipping through the cabin as the gunship tore a blinding pace through the sky. All around, Talik could see devastating glows from the turbolaser fire raining hell down upon the CIS base that had dared to target her landing party. ”Bring us in as the dust settles, Hotshot.” Talik ordered into her comms, receiving a click of acknowledgement from the gunship’s pilot as he shot between twin turbolaser shots that slammed into the CIS base with a thundering response. “Liberator reports Artillery silenced, and base shield is failing. We’re picking up some readings on the scans of the base, will update as more details come in.” Admiral Yularen reported over the comms established between both Talik’s party and that of Captain Olkzar.

Moments later, a soft bump was heard as the gunship came in for a hot landing, both turrets opening up to keep the separatist forces from getting any smart ideas as the rebels poured out of the trio of ships that had made it to the ground. ”Gunships are RTB, call us when you want that pickup.” Came the ever-cocky response from the pilot of Talik’s gunship, Hotshot. The twi’lek gave a simple thumbs up towards the cockpit before turning back towards the base at the top of the hill. ”Tivva.” Talik said, as a twi’lek in blue beskar knelt down and the rocket in her pack fired off on a deadly arc towards a small bunker built atop the hill. “Already on it.” Came the reply, and moments later the thundering explosion from the small bunker as it went up in a violent explosion.

Immediately, Talik’s troops started pushing up the hill as their blasters created a deadly wave of bolts meant to suppress anything dumb enough to try to stop their advance. Talik’s own blaster belching out a furious stream that she waved back and forth across a small barrier she knew two droids to be sheltering behind.

”Captain, we’re moving in from the south. Any target of priority in the base, or is it a simple destroy op?”

As the bombardment stopped Vorkro nodded at Mohira. Signalling for them to advance towards the outpost. Some of the outer buildings were scarred, battered and bruised from shots that landed after the shields had already failed. Shouldering his rifle he pushed up, shots ringing out the moment anything was brave enough to lift its head. Moving towards the compound all they came across was debris, broken droids and molten slag. Some of it still steamed and smoked, occasionally a droid moved slightly but before it was able to stand up it was loaded with blaster bolts.

Vorkro looked at Mohira when the call from Talik came through, he couldn’t exactly discuss details without checking with his employer. She nodded as she charged ahead to the tower in the centre of the compound.

He tapped his comm. “Recovery. Intel indicates there is an underground facility here where a Separatist Scientist is working on something to help them in their war against the Empire. My Employer, Mohira, wants the scientist. After that, we turn the rest to slag.”

Talik clicked back an affirmative as she heard the scope of the mission. ”Liberator, we're taking an underground facility here. Could that be related to the anomalies on scans?" Talik asked her mothership, hearing an immediate acknowledgement and order to switch to scanners meant to penetrate the surface of a world and find said underground bunkers. In the meantime, the rebel leader did not waste even a second as she started to push forward. Her hellish spray of blaster bolts kept the droids pinned in their cover while her two squadmates surged past her and over the barrier. Moments later, the reports of each twi'lek's blasters could be heard with accompanying flashes. Then Talik's side of the compound started to quiet down as her forces pushed in to clear out remaining defenders.

The Twi'lek herself took two squadmates and pushed in deeper to the compound, aiming towards the side her HUD identified Vorkro's IFF tags approaching from. Several times, Talik's rifle barked and spewed streams of crimson death, and each time more battle droids were reduced to scrap. ”Friendlies approaching, Captain." Talik announced as she started to get within visual range of her newfound allies. ”I've got Liberator performing ground penetration scans, we should be getting results soon. Hopefully it includes whatever anomaly they've been seeing." She said, even as her squad carefully swept their weapons across the now-quieter compound.

Their sweep proved fruitful, as the ground ahead of them suddenly retracted back, and the sounds of an elevating platform could be heard. Before Talik could even question the development, a hail of blaster fire started to emerge from the elevator, as a trio of battle droids emerged, flanked by two Supers. ”SBDs, MOVE!" Talik shouted into her comm, responding with her own deadly hail of covering fire as the Twi'lek moved quickly towards the nearest cover….

Only to find the ground beneath her boots starting to violently shake as if the planet itself were trying to shed her. "All Ground Forces, the underground base has been identified as a buried Providence Class Dreadnought, and it's engines just flared offline. Recommend getting away NOW!" Admiral Yularen's voice calmly explained over the comms, even as the earthquake became more violent. Talik, meanwhile, turned a look towards Vorkro. ”I think those clankers are blocking our only survival path." The Lethan said, even as she started to reach for an EMP Grenade. ”Think they'll mind a few stowaways?" She asked, before hurling the primed grenade without waiting for a response.

He couldn’t help but laugh as Talnel’s comment about his prices. ”I’ll admit, my usual rate is a bit out of reach of most people; but that said, I know what it’s like to try and find your feet without really having a feel for the whole situation, so I’m glad to help.” They sat in a companionable silence for a moment or two before an alert sounded on Elam’s comm.

Checking the alert, he smiled before sending a note to the datapad he’d given Talnel. ”Just got a reminder that the Founding Day feast is starting fairly soon. If you want a good place to meet and talk with a Jedi or two without having to go to the Enclaves, unless they’ve been dragged to the more ‘formal’ deal up the Tower by their wives you may well find Kenobi or Skywalker about…plus the food is both good and free.”

---

---

"Are you kriffin' kidding me!? You two had one job, and somehow you lost a VIP?" Came a harsh tone, causing both of the Stormtroopers before her to physically flinch back before the much smaller officer. Her usually calmer expression now betraying an expression of pure anger. Anger fueled by fear of the fate of all three involved. Despite all being in civilian clothes, for the purpose of not sticking out, the rigid stance of the troopers getting a firm dressing down told any who might see the circumstances of the situation. The Nautolan officer fell silent as she watched the two troopers, almost daring them to give some sort of retort or excuse for why they'd failed the mission. Yet when none came, Alys gave a small nod. At least these two knew their error. "I want you both searching for the VIP, understand? I'll get some backup and assist in the search. Do not make it obvious. If we manage to find the VIP again, and somehow keep our jobs, you two are going to be on latrine duty until such time as I've decided you have learned the lesson. Clear?" She said, although her tone had lost its angry edge. Instead shifting to the calm confidence of command as she laid out their plan of action. "If you find our VIP, comm me immediately and before you take any actions." The Captain added, as she thought of that last little bit. Both Stormtroopers gave a firm nod towards her with an affirmative "Yes Ma'am." Before heading off together on their assignment.

Alys waited until the two were out of sight, before letting out a rather unbecoming string of swears herself. "I'm going to die." She said softly, cursing herself for letting the troopers escort the VIP on their own. Things should have been fine, but Alys should've known fate better than to think she could sneak in a little free time. A long sigh left the Nautolan's lips as she rubbed at her temple with one hand. "No time, back to work." She muttered softly before pulling out her commlink to raise a couple of her troops from the Wyvern. Two who specialized in intelligence gathering, she figured their skills should translate well enough to task at hand... and she trusted them to be discreet. "Escort squad lost track of the VIP, don't think anything malicious happened. Likely went off to explore Keldabe on their own. I've got two searching now, but I could use some experts helping find her. Once again, we believe nothing malicious happened. So act accordingly, we don't want to cause an incident. Use discretion." She said calmly, earning affirmatives from the two on the other end of the comm. Then with that, Alys herself moved off towards the Grand Bazaar. If she had to hazard a guess where their missing person would've snuck off to, she'd guess the Grand Bazaar.

A couple of hours passed, with Alys starting to become dejected in her failed search throughout the Bazaar when her comm-link chimed. "Go." She said simply, and let out an audible breath of relief as she heard the voice on the other end. "We've found VIP, ma'am. She seems safe. Sending info now." Was all the voice said before a small click signified the end of the call. Moments later, Alys' comm-link buzzed with the receipt of the info and send it to her datapad. She dialed the two troopers from before next, her features looking much more relaxed. "Sending coords now, you two meet me there. We've got the VIP, she's safe." Alys said softly before hanging up and heading towards the coordinates.

Keldabe City, Mandalore
----------------------------------------------------
Cel had been sitting awhile, reading away at her book and taking time to contemplate things when she looked up as the loud music began to rise and even bellow over the ships racing above. "By all that is good in this world, I can't tell you how much I am annoyed by the Mandalorian way of doing things constantly, but... they know how to throw one hell of a party." She'd stand up and close her book and put it in her bag before she started to walk away. Then she'd hear a familiar voice.

"Cel! Cel! Thank goodness you are here."

Cel turned around to see a female Twi`lek who came running up with a clipboard in hand. "Cel, we need your help, your supervisor has disappeared and we need you to check out the numbers and possibilities of the party before it gets out of control!" the Twi`lek yelled trying to get louder than the music.

Her name was Cesal, she was a brown Twi`lek and was relatively new to the bureaucratic system. "Listen, Cesal... I am technically off to-"

"Cel, none of us are ever truly off, now if you don't look at these then who knows what will happen or who will be upset, or who is gonna wind up without a seat!"

"Cesal... if someone winds up without a seat, just get them one." Cel would say a slight bit annoyed by the fact that she was interrupted. But the way Cesal was looking at her made her realize she was Cesal's only hope in this case.

Cel sighed as she took the clipboard. "Thank you so much Cel, I appreciate it and owe you one!"

Cel scanned over the page her brain doing hundreds of calculations in her head, only to be consistently interrupted by the music and people shouting. Cel rolled her eyes as she kept looking over the different numbers. "Your food numbers are insanely low for the main city, you are going to need to do an emergency transport of food from the outer cities or colonies. At this rate you'll run out of food before the party is even over. You didn't think about all the extra diplomats and imperials did you?"

"I'm so sorry, I figured not many imperials would want to come to something on Mandalore, I just figured it'd be a few random diplomats."

"It's fine, Shuror always keeps a small supply of food on hand that should be enough for the transport ships to come and bring you more. You will just have to pay them extra to be able to take it off of their hands." Cel grabbed a pen from her bag and began signing different files. "You'll need to expedite this so you'll want to run form 67-J2 and 34-FT otherwise you'll get bogged down.... or just send someone to go get it, this is Mandalore, and most people just get to do whatever they want, also with this big of a celebration, no one is gonna turn you down in your time of need.... or they do and then you just get a Mandalorian to accompany you."

"Man, how could you do that without a computer or cybernetic enhancements? You're like a human calculator! No... a human computer!" There was a tad bit of jealousy in her voice as she spoke as well but Cel didn't seem to notice.

Cel would blush as she handed the clipboard back. "Not quite, more just like an eidetic memory but the math comes easy you just have to-" Once again Cel was interrupted.

"Yeah, thanks Cel! I appreciate you signing off on it as well! Bye!" The Twi`lek yelled as she walked away. At that moment the music had a slight rest note and Cel could hear her say under her breath. "If only that bitch wasn't a supervisor."

Cel frowned as she spoke softly to herself. "Noted" Cel turned away and began walking to the center of the city again, this time in hopes of finding something to do. She chuckled to herself as she continued to walk away from the tower. "While this city seems like it's chaotic, at least it's always safe." She looked up trying to spot a member of the Death Watch... anywhere that they could be. She shrugged and began to sing quietly to herself as she put some headphones in her ears to try and drown out the music "I bring a light so bright to illuminate the world" she sang quietly to herself as she continued her stroll.

"An astute observation," Minah said coolly. "Though of course I consider myself a modest servant of the Empire." The potent air of haughtiness that hangs on those words suggest otherwise as she quietly looked over this general from over the rim of her glass. He seemed warily cautious, as he should be. Definitely not one of Grievous' zealots to find himself here.

"A servant who admittedly gets tired of the state functions after a while," she admitted after a generous sip of her drink. "And as a diplomat, cultivating personal relationships, even with our...opponents, is always part of my duties." For a moment, her gaze flits down to the lightsaber revealed on her hip, and she smiles a little wider, not bothering to hide the clear symbol of her allegiance.

"Minah Saden," the diplomat announced with a nod and a gesture of her glass. "And you?"

"Kzaye Zuvew," was all he said in a blunt tone. So, an imperial diplomat, she says, must be some diplomat if she carries a lightsaber. She probably force chokes people out alot. He thought as he gazed at the revealed lightsaber.

"I do get tired of state functions sometimes as well and need a break." The general spoke in a tired tone, "I may not be a diplomat, unlike you, but I think I can manage." Kzaya gave a weak smile, "Despite my job. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, after all." He chuckled a bit before continuing. Zera would have a field day with this imperial, he amused at the thought.

"So how are you enjoying the festivities, and so how often do you talk with... your enemies?" I rarely do, but sometimes life happens, and you will get surprises. Like today, for example." Kzaye said with a small dose of vigor. He did not expect to be talking to his enemy today, but strange things can happen on Mandalore, it seems.




"That sounds like a plan and a good reason to eat some good food." Talnel replied as he read the note on his datapad. Then he had an idea, "Though if you were planning on going too, then I would not mind the company." He gave a half smile and spoke friendly. "Since eating with people you can trust is good for the soul." He better not be putting too much trust here, he thought. "If not, that is fine, and either way, it is nice to have a friend out in this galaxy."

Just in case something else happens today, he thought as he put the datapad away. Talnel thought about asking Elam about lessons once he gets a lightsaber, but that feels too much, and he should get the thing first before he tries to ask. He could maybe ask the Jedi, but he is unsure of that given his past and being a dark sider. How long can you hide that fact from them if they are training him?

"Still, I think I will head out soon and go to the feast regardless if you want to go or not. It is fine with me."

---

Crossfire pulled the Kom'rk Starfighter Transport into view of the CR90 Corvette Guiding Light, noting its severely damaged exterior. He quickly noted scorch marks and significant damage to some of its systems... the fact this thing went through hyperspace without falling into pieces was remarkable. The transmitter picked up that this ship was registered as belonging to a mercenary outfit. This didn't give him any comfort: this could be some sort of textbook trap... if so, it was probably best he was the one going in. He had enough ordinance on his person to go out in one spectacular blaze of glory if it was. If not... well, whoever limped into Mandalorian space clearly needed one hell of a hand. With an expert deftness that came from numerous simulations of hostile boarding conditions, Crossfire pulled his ship up to dock in the nearest airlock, quickly initiating a hostile board. Given the distress beacon, the ship was primed to accept the request. The hatch leading into the airlock slid open, and Crossfire quickly tapped away at the console to lock the starfighter down. The last thing he needed was someone stealing his ship on him. Worst case, he would need to rush back before a slicer could brute force through the chain code linked to his vambraces.

The Mandalorian Commando stalked back to the rear of his ship, slipping into the airlock. After a few moments of it working its magic, the door on the other end slid open. The lights inside the Guiding Light seemed burnt out, only the red glow of emergency lights washing over the interior. The corpses on the ground were the first indication something was seriously wrong. A trandoshan and a rodian... though by states of dress and their wounds, it was clear they were on opposite sides of this conflict. Crossfire raised an eyebrow, confused. Judging by the series of scorch marks on the wall behind the Trandoshan, it was clear they were probably part of the crew. He'd need to find someone alive to get a little more information.

A small audio waveform appeared on the HUD of his helmet's vis-screen: footsteps. Crossfire sighed, leaving the well-lit airlock door open as he began walking up the hall, slipping into the recess of the nearest doorway for cover to stay a little hidden from view. It would only obscure him for a moment, but that's all he needed. His hands reached for the two DC-17s blasters on his belt, unholstering them and toggling his helmet to thermal vision. From around the corner, two thugs quickly approached with carbines raised. They paused for a moment as they looked dumbly at the open cockpit at the end of the hall. They looked at each other for a moment, before the smaller of the two spoke up. "Call the boss, tell 'im we got a guest."

Crossfire smiled underneath his helmet as he popped out, lifting both blasters and firing a single shot from each in quick succession. The blaster bolts fired true, each bolt hitting a separate goon in one of their respective legs. Both hit the deck hard as Crossfire began approaching menacingly. The goon on the left was quicker to act, and raised his carbine rifle up while laying on his back. He fired several shots at the approaching Mandalorian, but the bolts simply reflected off the Beskar armor. He didn't even seem to flinch. The goon on the right, however, was scrambling for the communicator on his belt. Crossfire turned one of his blasters over to this goon, firing two quick blaster bolts at his chest. The goon on the right suddenly stopped moving, slumped on the ground. This, for a moment, lit a fire in the belly of the remaining hostile. A gutteral yell emenated from deep in his soul as he fired off another shot... only to watch in horror as the Mandalorian lifted a foot and kicked the blaster out of his hands, before bringing that same foot down with all his weight onto his right arm. The sound of bones snapping changed the primal battle cry into a shriek of pain. Crossfire looked down at his target, holstering one of his blasters while raising the other and pointing it at the helpless thug's head. "So, what are you, pirates?'

The thug's eyes were filled with fear, as the gear slowly turned in his head. "Uhh... yeah, just pirates."

Crossfire paused a moment, his expressionless helmet hiding his calculating stare. After that moment passed, Crossfire pointed the blaster at the thug's other leg and fired another blaster bolt. Another cry of pain rang down the hall. "Try again."

Snot was pouring out of the thug's nose as he wiggled and writhed, his body clearly already starting the process of going into shock. "Please I-"

"Who's your boss?"

"Obadah the Hu... uhh, I mean..."

Crossfire fired a single blaster bolt into the thug's head. Obadah didn't mean much to Crossfire... but he knew what the second half meant. The smile under his helmet grew wider and more sadistic. He couldn't have possibly dreamed of being this lucky on his first assignment.

It was slug hunting season.