Ferrigo Prosstang

"I will follow you to the ends of the galaxy..." ''Ferrigo said firmly to the gorgeous, young blonde-haired woman standing before him. Her stomach was round, and much larger than it had been only a few months before.''

"Last time I remember you saying that...you told me you were a feared bounty hunter." she bit her lower lip between her teeth.

"''That's true, isn't it?" ''

''Her green eyes flashed warmly at his fixed gaze. "Mmm-Hmmm...Am I your bounty, Ferrigo, Baron of Prosstang?"''

''"Undoubtedly. Most treasured, ner cyar'ika." He took her into his arms for a long, soulful kiss.''

-- Ferrigo Prosstang and his wife, Alexzandria Grayson-Prosstang, discuss vacation plans, 19 BBY.

''"It was all too easy....Sssssnaaaaake," the Trandoshan hissed, snickered and chortled. "Just like Negat. 30 years ago."''

''"Kriff yourself, Xossk." Ferrigo gasped with pain in his ribs and chest from the beatings he had received in the first several days after being brought captive to this place. "From the bottom of my heart."''

''"This is the last time, Snake," Xossk smiled a sharp-toothed grin. "I did my part. I would have loved to have torn you apart with my own claws, but the client has other plans for you."''

''"Who?" Ferrigo groaned and grasped at the decorative grooves in the ceramic wall of his cell. "Anurgga?''"'

"A Mandalorian,''" Xossk's grin widened and he licked his gnarly chops. "Never ceases to amaze me how your kind turn on each other. Despite your high minded rhetoric, you're just bunch of inferior cut-throats."''

''"What about...Anurgga?" Ferrigo realized where he was. He considered his options for making an escape silently.''

"The host of this this party. And not in town,''" the Trandoshan considered the security panel of Ferrigo's cell. "You really tempt me to come in there and whip you around for old times' sake.'"''

"Now you're talkin' my language, Xossk, ol' buddy. Get in here so I can make a holovid dinner out of you."

-- The Trandoshan bounty hunter Xossk gloats at the misfortunes of his long-time nemesis and captive, Ferrigo Prosstang, 20 BBY.

"Let's take this out back..."

"You want to earn this (sigil)? I'm good with that, Fer'k. Hope you're ready for a sheb'labrokar."

"Yours? Ori'lek. Like old times."

"I've killed many Jedi with my bare hands, Ferrigo...you heard that?"

"I know you used your vibroblades. Sounds better to say bare hands."

"Damn straight."

"Let's rock, my friend. Oya manda!!"

"Oya!!"

-- Ferrigo Prosstang and Jango Fett prepare to fight each other unarmed in the lower levels of Coruscant for the title of Mand'alor, 24 BBY.

"Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today...PAY. ME. NOW." -- Ferrigo Prosstang to the Quarren swindler Baa Tooie, after completing a tracking contract in 25 BBY.

"Your Highness, there is no honor in slaughtering innocents - especially our own people. Any persons or groups who would represent themselves as honorable Mandalorian warriors would understand this. Death Watch exist as traitors to all Mando'ade." -- Ferrigo Prosstang, as CEO of Prosstang Industries, to Duchess Satine Kryze, 25 BBY.

"Oh, I'll do the job.  And do it clean.  Payment is half a million in Troiken spice now, and the remainder of the contract amount within two hours of my notification of completion. And don't come looking for me at any point in order to renegotiate terms. I'll see you within two weeks." -- Ferrigo Prosstang to Anurgga, a Hutt of the Besadii Diori (Clan).

Early Childhood (68 - 61 BBY)

Ferrigo Prosstang was born of the Mandalorian Clan Prosstang at the Prosstang Estate near Keldabe, Mandalore in 68 BBY. His father, Q'osstigo, though trained as a warrior when young by the brothers of his own father, was limited in his experience of combat as an adult. The elder Prosstang was occupied fully with expanding and consolidating resource extraction and manufacturing interests throughout the Mandalore System and beyond under the umbrella of Prosstang Industries. With recent ancestors tied to the Ordo and Skirata clans, Ferrigo's mother Signara Ordo-Prosstang was an influential advisor to the New Mandalorian government for a great number of years on domestic trade and education policies.

At the age of seven, Ferrigo pleaded with his parents to send him to receive warrior training. While this was illegal under New Mandalorian rule, both of his parents consented to have their son train on Concord Dawn with someone affiliated with a regular client of Prosstang Industries. His parents never shared with anyone, including Ferrigo, the fact that the Jedi Order had visited a few years before asking to take the young Prosstang to Coruscant for training. Nor that Ferrigo's grandmother on his mother's line beyond being a nurse had been a great shamanic healer in private circles.

 Warrior Training, Battle of Concord Dawn and Early Friendships (61 - 52 BBY)

Ferrigo trained under the Mand'alor, acclaimed among the clans as the greatest warrior of his time, Jaster Mereel from 61 BBY. Ferrigo demonstrated great aptitude and talent for strategy, tactics and various forms of combat. Mereel, once commented to his second-in-command Montross that young Prosstang showed the greatest promise among the trainees - including having certain abilities that few but Jedi were known to possess.Mereel took Prosstang under his wing with special interest.

In 58 BBY, the Mandalorian Civil War began in earnest with the Battle of Concord Dawn. The terrorist Death Watch attacked storage facilities and homes associated with True Mandalorians. With a handful of other young warriors, the ten year-old Ferrigo was tasked by Mereel with guarding the main outpost. Under heavy assault, the outpost was breached with explosives and his friends were soon killed by Death Watch commandos. Ferrigo escaped through a trap-door to a secret underground tunnel after killing two enemies. He received orders via comlink from Mereel to meet at the edge of the nearby small town with an extra set of small sized gear. When they were reunited, Mereel and company had an eight year-old farm boy with them - named Jango Fett. In a surprise retaliation attack, Fett exacted revenge for the death of his family, and Mereel's True Mandalorians routed their enemies who were prematurely celebrating victory.

Jango was adopted by Mereel as his own son and heir. Through the next few years, despite the jealous efforts of Montross to create dissention between them, Ferrigo would become close friends with Jango. Though they had a friendly rivalry to push each other to become their best, Prosstang accepted that his younger friend would someday succeed Mereel, just as he would someday succeed his own father as a leader of clan and industry.

 Left Behind: The Battle for Korda-6 (52 BBY)

In 52 BBY, the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel responded to a paid rescue call regarding a detachment of Kordan Defense Force rookies reportedly under heavy fire by insurgents on Korda-6. Ferrigo was re-assigned by request to Montross and his aerial-attack Vertigo Squad, while Mereel was to lead the heavy infantry unit, the Headhunters Squad, and Jango Fett was given command of the rear-guard unit, Jango's Grunts. Prior to boarding, Mereel approached Prosstang and then Fett, imploring each of them to make him proud. As the scene unfolded it became clear that the distress call was a ploy in an elaborate trap, from the moment the landing ships entered the atmosphere of Korda-6 under heavy anti-air ion cannon fire to the exceptionally heavy and accurate ground fire in each of the landing zones.

Withing minutes of landing, young Prosstang was knocked unconscious by a rake of turbolasers and concussive blasts from an enemy gun emplacement, which was unaccounted for in the mission plans in the sector Montross assigned him. Only by a revelatory leap to the safety of thick cluster of trees did Ferrigo avoid disintegration from the concussion of the bursts lifting the ground and rudimentary paving.

When he awoke from unconsciousness, Ferrigo also found that his armor systems were not functioning properly, and that the connection to his jetpack was broken.

Prosstang carefully returned to the edge of the kill zone and found his cousin, Lu'uk Ordo, wounded severely with a blast wound to his leg. "Mir'shebika!" Ferrigo blurted his affectionate nickname for his cousin.

Lu'uk Ordo groaned and turned to Ferrigo. "Jare'osika..." he uttered as his shoulders seemed to sag.

A few of the primate-like Kordans bore down on their position, firing their blasters in a wild arc, ripping up chunks of soil and vegetation.

"We've been betrayed! That -- ," Ferrigo began angrily, but stopped as he heard his cousin gasping. Ferrigo whipped his Prosstang Select Arms pistol out of his right thigh holster and quickly dispatched three enemy Kordans with the same number of head shots before spinning his smoking pistol muzzle back into its holster.

Lu'uk Ordo heaved slightly and winced. "Mont...tross. It was Montross..."

Ferrigo removed his helmet, looking at it and then regarding with deep concern his cousin, who seemed to be rapidly fading in strength. "My helmet comm isn't working, that ge'hutuun Montross sabotaged us!" Ferrigo looked around, and seeing nobody approaching, he looked at his cousin's leg and placed his helmet back on. "I have to go warn Mereel and Jango!"

"I'm dying, ner vod'ika..." Ordo groaned with a rasp.

At that moment, Ferrigo closed his eyes and focused his intention on healing Lu'uk and began to chant a song that he had no recollection of hearing before. In his mind, he heard a woman speaking to him - guiding him. Heat was breathing through his hands and he began repeatedly chanting her voice as he heard it, as his hands moved above Lu'uk's leg, "Go'iviinkadla go'iviinkadla be jehaala be jehaala…"

Lu'uk's eyes opened. "Fer'gie...I am...so cold...but my leg, I...feel warmer…"

Ferrigo spoke clearly, inspired by a vision of his mother's mother. "Grandmother is bringing you healing, ner vod'ika. You must rest."

Stunned, Ferrigo stood up carefully. Lu'uk's leg wound had been sealed and appeared swollen, but no longer dark. Ferrigo covered his cousin up to the neck with a camoflage blanket from Lu'uk's pack before taking a look around. "I'll be back, Lu'uk. Don't move."

"KIss my shebse." Lu'uk groaned.

It appeared that there were no combatants in the area, and no weapons could be heard. The nearby gun emplacement was silent, and the barrels of the weapons appeared to have been shattered or bent.

For a moment, Ferrigo felt uneasy. He sensed that someone he cared about was in danger. He observed a few of the two-story buildings in the vicinity.

A broken balcony roof!

Ferrigo strode as quickly as he could to the entry door of the apartment building. On meeting resistance, he pressed a button on his right gauntlet, and a blade popped out from the top casing. He drew the blade out with his left hand and began to manipulate the door access control panel. A few seconds after jamming the blade between the panel and the control pad, he pulled a few wires with color-coded metal connectors from the housing of his right gauntlet and attached them to the blade. A touch of his left index finger to a button near the wires sparked the control pad open and the door slide open immediately afterward. He quickly gathered and reset the blade and wires into the gauntlet casing.

The young Mandalorian got his bearings and took some deep breaths before entering the building, his pistol drawn and ready. He ascended the stairs at the left side of the hallway, his back against the wall, pistol raised and pointing into the corners above his position as he adjusting his facing angles.

At the top floor, he exited the stairwell with deft quickness. His sweeping motions finished, he stood up against the near wall and edged his way to the nearest door jamb - a covered patio. Partially. His young cousin Jannigo laid on top of several bent and cracked roof panels on the floor of the patio. He groaned weakly. The Mandalorian kid's feet were elevated above his head until Ferrigo gently moved his feet down and closer to the sliding patio plastiglas doors, and then dragged him into the upstairs bedroom the faced the patio.

Jannigo muttered weakly. "Montross betrayed us. Shot me once he realized I was...getting suspicious of his rescue call to Mer'buir."

Ferrigo responded, and shook his head. "You're hurt. Your helmet saved your life. But it's a flat bucket now. Just relax if you can.  We will try to fix you up. Lu'uk is also hurt, but we'll survive."

Ferrigo's thoughts seemed to drift as he lifted his hands above Jannigo and began to chant in a regular, soft rhythm. He was aware that his hands spread over Jannigo, and that his movements paid special attention to the younger Prosstang's head, neck and shoulders. But he also saw banks of clouds, beautiful skies, and dipping through the white clouds to emerge below above plumes of roaring belches of explosive flame, smoke and fragmentation below.

-My Mandalore.

Ferrigo Prosstang emerged from the apartment building carrying his younger cousin over his shoulder. As he neared the place he left Lu'uk Ordo, he noticed that Ordo was sound asleep. Something was clear after another hour. Lu'uk, Jannigo and Ferrigo had been left behind. Betrayed by Montross. He felt a sudden shift in his awareness, as if immediately immersed in a dream.  "How I jumped over 10 meters into the middle canopy of a tree without a functioning jetpack...and healing my cousin's bleeding leg...only later would I better understand what happened that day." -- Ferrigo Prosstang in a family archive data log, first heard in 43 ABY by Ge'laana Pross'kade, grandchild of Nor'atine Prosstang-Ur'mogg.

 Rescued by a Jedi - Revelations and Wisdom (52 BBY)

Uncharacteristically, Ferrigo lost consciousness on Korda-6 after returning to Lu'uk with Jannigo. He awoke to find himself helmet-less and bound in a seat aboard some sort of starship. A tall bearded man with long brown hair tied into a braid paced before him. From the weapon attached to his belt, he appeared to be dressed as a Jedi. He was examining the dark blade especially made for him by his father as a mark of passing into adulthood.

Ferrigo tried to shift in his seat, and asked. "Where am I and who are you?" "You are aboard a Corellian Consular Class Cruiser and I am Qui-Gon Jinn," the man said in a deep, nasal-toned voice. He continued to pace, several meters in front of young Prosstang. "You have much to explain. Particularly your possession of this..." Qui-Gon Jinn activated and briefly brandished Ferrigo's replica dark saber. Its soft white glow and ripples of energy pulsed around the blade, which issued a whirring and whining hum, whistling through the air with the tall man's practiced flourishing.

"I say nothing," Ferrigo said stoically.

"Clearly, you are Mandalorian like your companions," Jinn stated confidently. "But I find it peculiar that you have a strong relationship to the Force. That is how I found you." His continued pacing in front of Prosstang was agitating, as Ferrigo felt a sense of pressure upon him as he looked upon Jinn's long hair and clothing, "Though this is very similar to what I seek, it is not what I was looking for. "

"That was a gift from my father."

"Are you a Vizsla?" The imposing figure of Jinn cast a shadow on Ferrigo as he deactivated the replica dark saber and held it in his right hand.

"No. I am not. Are you a Jedi?"

Jinn gently waved the fingers of his left hand toward Prosstang. "You will tell me who you are...and how this was made."

"I will tell you because I choose to. I am young, but not weak of mind, Jedi," Prosstang continued firm in his young voice. "I am Ferrigo Prosstang. Though I know of shared lineage with the Viszla family going far back, I do not know of the original weapon's location." The tall bearded man slowed to a stop, and Ferrigo continued. "That is what you want to know, isn't it?" Ferrigo grinned and waved his fingers across the Jedi's field of view.

"Don't take me for a fool, youngling. Even though you are Force-sensitive, you and your friends would have been killed had I not found you. It was no mistake that I found you," Jinn grabbed Ferrigo's attention with his next statement. "It was the will of the Force, and your use of it that called to me."

It took several minutes for Ferrigo to speak again.

"Where is my master? Where are my cousins? What happened? Where are you taking us?"

Jinn spoke with a tinge of sympathy. "I regret to tell you that I believe your leader was killed on Korda-6. By another Mandalorian. Wearing black armor of the same type. A Viszla. Tor Viszla. Death Watch, I believe I heard. Another heavy-set man, wearing much the same armor as yourself, came to him some time later."

Ferrigo shook his head slowly. "Montross..." Ferrigo's shoulders lowered, his hands covering his face.

"I don't seek to harm you, young Prosstang," the Jedi spoke toward the ceiling for a moment. "I sense that you are reasonable. I will remove your bonds and we may continue our discussion."

"I would much appreciate it," Ferrigo said without irony. The taller man moved carefully but smoothly around and behind Ferrigo's seat and removed the wrist and ankle bindings. A bit surprised by a thought, Ferrigo spoke quietly. "I could see where you were...behind me."

Qui-Gon Jinn looked directly at Ferrigo as he circled the young Mandalorian to the left. "I am no danger to you. In my intentions. But the Force does talk to us, and if we listen, it may lead each of us in a way that resonates should we be open to receive."

"My cousins, where are they?" Ferrigo asked again, a bit more insistent. "I...feel that they are here."

"And they are, young Prosstang. If you are familiar with Corellian ships, perhaps you could tell me where they are," Jinn paused. "Focus. Close your eyes if need be."

Ferrigo seemed slightly agitated again. "I don't know what you're getting at, Jedi. I want to see my cousins."

"You can. If you allow the Force to speak to you," the taller man strode toward the narrower end wall of the room, where a two-paneled door was centered.

Ferrigo glanced toward the far wall, where two single doors were set near the port and starboard bulkheads. "They're in a room beyond that starboard side door."

"That's correct," Jinn said. "Do you see other things, Ferrigo?"

"I'm not sure," Ferrigo glanced to the starboard door. "Let my cousins out. Please."

Qui-Gon Jinn stood up straight and folded his arms after tucking the dark saber into his belt. "We have more to discuss that your cousins cannot be a party to hearing."

"Oh, like what?" Ferrigo enquired earnestly. "Lu'uk and Jannigo can hear anything you tell me. They're blood relations."

"Aren't Mandalorian clans of the warrior caste tied more to actions, deeds and honor than blood?" Jinn asked.

"What does that have to do with my cousins hearing what you have to say?"

"Everything," a long pause as the older man paced the floor, back and forth. "These words that I share are only for you, Ferrigo Prosstang. There are others who, with knowledge of what I am to tell you, would seek to do harm to you and your relations. Perhaps even those of your own blood. There was a vergence in the Force. Around you. And, I do not yet understand why."

Ferrigo seemed a little bewildered, and very confused. "Am I to become a Jedi?"

Quickly, but seriously, Jinn responded. "No. I do not believe so. I am afraid you are too old to begin training. That much is clear. But you were in fact identified as a youngling for the Selection to join the Jedi Order. For one reason or another, you remained on Mandalore."

"But I don't remember anything about being selected to be a Jedi," Ferrigo protested slightly, not to Qui-Gon Jinn, but to the situation he just described. "I'm sure I would have been excited to become a Jedi. I always wanted adventure as a little kid."

"You are still very young. Obviously, you still enjoy adventure," Jinn noted drily. "Perhaps that is the reason you were not selected."

Ferrigo thought for a while on this statement over the next several days. He and his cousins spent a good deal of time repairing their equipment, at least the components that were not weapons-related. Jannigo was even able, with some guidance, to restore some of the roundness to his helmet's shape.

Jinn finally revealed that they were traveling to Mandalore to return the three young men. The crew and passengers, including Qui-Gon Jinn, Ferrigo, Lu'uk and Jannigo, had three meals per standard rotation unit in the mess deck. Their meals consisted of prepared and enriched foods and beverages. After meals, Lu'uk and Jannigo would be returned to their cabin, effectively under house arrest. Qui-Gon Jinn would talk with Ferrigo about galactic politics, trade and conflict in the Outer Rim, and the Force. The latter, it was carefully noted by Jinn, was as he 'understood his relationship to the Force.'

As they arrived at Mandalore, orbiting the planet shortly until the Excision Zone was in view, the cruiser entered the atmosphere and slowed on its descent toward the domed New Mandalorian capital city of Sundari. Seated in the passenger cabin, Ferrigo turned to Qui-Gon Jinn as the Jedi spoke. "You must impress upon your cousins that this trip has been courtesy of a Galactic Republic emissary."

"Jedi Master Jinn, what has this trip been about? For you, that is?" Ferrigo asked, stroking his bare chin.

"I do sense great danger ahead for you, as you wield the potential for much power, Ferrigo. If you are not careful, you may cause grave damage to others. And yourself. Others...," Jinn seemed to be measuring his words. "Others may be drawn to that power. And wish to subvert it to cause harm."

Ferrigo, puzzled, prodded with another question. "What great danger? What grave damage?"

"Only the Living Force will know what is in store for you. But you have a gift in the Force," Qui-Gon Jinn continued. "With such power comes responsibility. You must be mindful of your focus, for it shapes your reality. The Force may support you, but you must allow yourself to concentrate on your relationship with the Force, through meditation. Clear your mind of all else. And beware your passions and attachments."

"Why? What do you mean? Families? Do Jedi marry and have families?"

Jinn again turned to face Ferrigo. "None who serve as Jedi Knights may serve anyone other than their Master or the Jedi Council. Attachments become the true masters of those who would otherwise seek harmony with the Living Force."

Ferrigo interjected. "Aren't the Masters and the Jedi Council then also attachments; interfering with the relationship of the...Jedi...to the Force?"

Qui-Gon Jinn couldn't restrain a mirthful chuckle and smile as he tilted his head slightly. "You are sharp. And clever, young Prosstang," the Jedi took a short inhaling breath and continued. "There are some who debate on the relative gift of the Force within individuals. In technical terms, each individual has a concentration of particles associated with Force sensitivity called midi-chlorians. The more midi-chlorians an individual has, the stronger that being is supposed to be in connection with the Force. But the Force itself is mysterious and elusive, even of such scientific study. Some believe that the Living Force, what the Force is directing, guiding and reacting to in the present moment is most critical. Others believe that there is a Unifying Force that connects all space and time in one unity, a destiny."

"So you are seeing a destiny for me, through the Unifying Force. Though you have told me that the Living Force, the moment, is very critical to understanding the will of the Force," Ferrigo spread his hands slightly.

"Yes. But destinies can change. I caution you to not discuss nor demonstrate your gifts in the Force," Jinn stated firmly, as the cruiser jolted slightly on landing on a platform above the white sand wastes outside of Sundari.

Ferrigo closed his eyes for a moment after Qui-Gon had closed his. And words came to Ferrigo, then rolled off his tongue. "The Dark Side," he opened his eyes and looked at Jinn before asking. "What is it? Do attachments always lead those with strong connection to the Force...to the Dark Side?"

"It is hard to say. The teachings of the Jedi Order are clear. But life and the Living Force are more complex," Qui-Gon Jinn got out of his seat and moved slowly out of the passenger cabin toward the exit ramp, regarding his surroundings as the walked. "My feelings tell me that marriage and family provide fodder for pain and loss. I have at times come close to others. My Masters have taught me that these are arteries to fear, anger, hate and suffering when attachments form beyond compassion - attachments which have in memory always led to the Dark Side of the Force. For personal power and the causing of misery to others."

"And…" Ferrigo hoped to tease out more from Jinn.

"You are not a Jedi Knight, Ferrigo. You must follow your own path. Do not become consumed with your emotions of the moment," Jinn turned again, pacing and contemplating. "This must be as true for a good Mandalorian soldier as for a Jedi."

"The principles of my mentor would have us be honorable warriors, placing a code of ethical behaviors toward self, fellow soldiers and society ahead of a desire for power. Everything the Death Watch is not." Both Ferrigo and the Jedi walked down the ramp to the landing platform. Lu'uk Ordo and young Jannigo Prosstang awaited them, along with a Republic fleet crew officer and a Mandalorian customs official.

Jinn spoke in a brighter tone. "Your mentor sounds like a wise and honorable man. I am sorry for you and your people that he no longer walks in this galaxy. But you may follow his principles still. Meditate on your relationship to the Force. You may become better able to hear the will of the Force. And your Grandmother may speak to you…Farewell, young Prosstang. And stay out of trouble. These are troubled times for Mandalore. Be a man of peace if you can." Ferrigo smiled and waved as Jinn returned up the ramp to the cruiser. Ferrigo and Lu'uk soon afterward boarded a shuttle to Negat Cube City, nearly 20 kilometers away from Sundari. Lu'uk called Negat Cube City home. Other Mandalorians called it worse.

 Return Home to Mandalore (52 BBY)

Negat Cube City
Arriving in Negat Cube City was a delight to rather few Mandalorians. Where Sundari was viewed by many Mandalorians, and visitors, as a jewel, Negat was viewed as an afterthought, a warehouse for various activities not particularly well-considered in total. Not all parts of Negat were undesirable, as the upper reaches of the cube city were relatively pleasant. But security of such places was always in question, and disorder generally ruled the night. Negat was surrounded by struggling groves of trees that appeared to outsiders as driftwood that had somehow been rooted into the white and light colored sands and underlying layers of filmlike glass and solid glass. The Mandalorian Excision, or Dral'han (Mando'a for 'annihilation') had been a brutal and fateful event in the origin of Negat, as it had been across much of Mandalore and in many regions of its colonial holdings. One of many orbital nuclear weapon strikes had obliterated the town of Kels'naya, once held as a fortified stronghold of the Clan Kels'aan on the site of where Negat was constructed. The original name of the reconstructed cubic city settlement as commissioned by the New Mandalorian government was Mesh'laruuk, as were many other settlements similarly constructed in the century following the Excision. The locals eventually took to calling the settlement Nayc'gal, tongue-in-cheek as a reference to a poor logistical relationship with major ports on Mandalore that would receive needed imports, and much desired ne'tragal, or dark ale. The common presence of off-worlders in Mesh'laruuk-23 (as Negat had been officially designated by the central government in Sundari) enabled the eventual morphing of the informal name of the settlement to Ne'gat, or just Negat.

Unwelcome Home in Nayc'gal
Into this setting, Ferrigo Prosstang and his cousins Lu'uk Ordo and Jannigo Prosstang were transported at one of the lower-belt landing platforms via shuttle from Sundari. The three had a rather uneventful journey from the port to the repulsorlift elevators down to the level where Lu'uk's apartment building entry was located. Ferrigo sensed something was out of place, but dismissed it as his unfamiliarity with Negat and its inhabitants. Graffiti and litter were prevalent, seemingly an official statement about this place. He and Lu'uk were moving well, considering the damage they sustained at Korda-6 only a few weeks before. The older cousins occasionally reminded Jannigo to minimize his distracted sight-seeing.

Young Ferrigo Prosstang raised his voice to his cousin above the din of speeder traffic running parallel to the promenade they walked upon, and unclipped his helmet from his utility belt, taking it into his right hand. "How is your leg, Lu'uk?" Ferrigo glanced around. "Does this place have a local police force?"

His cousin Lu'uk smiled. "I can't believe how good my leg feels," he then looked at Ferrigo and Jannigo with a mix of scorn and humor. "Of course Negat has a police force. They're smart enough to know that staying inside is the safest thing they can do. The kids here can rob them blind in two turns of a striil chasing its own tail," after he turned further to look at Jannigo, he added. "Don't get any ideas."

Ferrigo smiled and snickered before smoothly putting on his helmet, and spoke through his emitter. "Great."

Jannigo tried on his helmet, and complained aloud. "It's better, but this bucket got crushed."

"Put it on, Jan'k." Ferrigo said firmly through his vocal emitter.

"Those Republic folks," Lu'uk spoke up. "...for being haar'chakla di'kute, were very good to me. I didn't like being penned up, but I'm amazed I'm getting around as well as I am. That tall bearded guy spent a lot of time sitting around our cabin. I think he might have been a Jedi or something like that." Ordo regarded Ferrigo as he guided his cousins toward their left, into an entry alcove. The spray painted doors, with some species epithets, slid open reluctantly with a sound of grit.

Ferrigo spread his hands to indicate the atrium they had entered. "Nice place." The atrium was a bit dark, even considering the amount of glass intended to let ambient light in from the interior of the larger cube.

"This place...sucks." Jannigo's voice emitter was distorted, which got a laugh from Lu'uk.

The atrium, and the apartment building were in fact severely vandalised and littered with any wastes that defied the imagination. What looked to have once served as a reception or concierge counter had a metal roll down grate down into locked position. The place reeked of the wastes, seen and unseen.

"Funny, Pross, funnier Prs'tad'ika," Ordo regarded his cousins as he opened a door to a stairwell. "Three floors up and to the left in the hallway. Apartment W-347."

"Where do think you're going?" Ferrigo asked Jannigo incredulously.

"With you, ner vode," Jannigo's voice still a bit high-pitched in the awkward early teen development stages.

Ferrigo's helmet shook side to side slowly. "Nu vercopa, Jan'k. Stay down here. Hide. We will call for you, or return."

"Oh, I'm with you, Fer'k, the kid stays down here." Lu'uk said as they opened the stairwell door to prepare for the ascent to the third level from the atrium floor. "You never know what you'll run into on your way up these stairs. It's been many years since this place was nice. Grandmother Lunasa has never been here. Says the place is cursed."

"Right," Ferrigo replied. An image of a tall, thick, primordial tree surrounded by verdant undergrowth flashed in his mind. The trip up the stairs was less than positively impressive.

The hallway was dank and musty, and like the atrium, appeared to have missed custodial attention for a decade or two. Lu'uk turned back to look at Ferrigo. "I...never thanked you, Fer'k."

Ferrigo scanned the hallway, after clicking his tongue against his palate and saying, 'HUD ON.' His helmet's peripheral field of vision now filled with holographic data charts, and on his command, a video feed captured by one of the micro-cameras located in the rangefinder housing of his helmet. He had a momentary flash of vision of an elderly woman, wearing a tassled, heavy fabric cape of patterned tan, burnt red and medium brown over a lighter-colored tunic. Ferrigo closed his eyes and opened them again. He clucked his tongue. "Why would you need to thank me?" Ferrigo instinctively tapped the activation buttons on each gauntlet, the left for his dart launcher, the right for his laser weapon, set for stun. He also reached over his right shoulder, and did not find his dark saber. He recalled wistfully that Qui-Gon Jinn had kept that memento of their meeting.

Guess I don't need it, Grandmother?

"Fer'k, you stopped my bleeding. Closed my leg wound. Even better than Silas could have done," Lu'uk turned and tapped out a code on a keypad next to the door. Above the keypad, a little below eye level was the identification plate in Mando'a, W-347. "Haar'chak," his cousin turned to him and removed a keycard from his cargo pocket, inserting it below the keypad buttons.

The door slid open, to the dimly lit interior entry of the apartment, releasing an overwhelming stench. "Filter," Ferrigo chirped into his voice unit, and he felt the padding around the interior rim of his helmet expand under his chin and jaw. He puffed out air sharply in a steady rhythm, expelling the putrid air that had managed to seep in. Lu'uk fumbled with his helmet, dropping it and immediately heaving vomit into the apartment after staggering forward two steps. "Oh, this could have been a better homecoming," young Prosstang said evenly as he lifted his right forearm with his left hand crossed over onto his gauntlet, poised to fire stun rays.

Lu'uk continued to retch, and Ferrigo checked his HUD and surveyed his rear camera and what was to be seen through his visor. "Air quality eval," Ferrigo's command registered a change of the data table to the left side of his HUD. Nothing suggested toxins present. Just high concentrations of ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, propanoic acid and methane. "Lu'uk, you might want to step out for a moment. Somebody's dead in here."

Ordo couldn't muster a word as he straightened up and headed for the door. Ferrigo muttered a series of words. Commands. He switched to thermal vision and cycled through his cameras and sensors as he carefully inspected the apartment to the left side of the entry in the dark.

No heat traces from thermal.

He maintained the thermal vision filter as he crossed the hallway to the lighter area of the apartment to the right of the entry door.

He pulled out a small canister with a button at the top, and activated several sprays of a clear mist with his right index finger before returning the canister to his right thigh cargo pocket. He then drew both of his blaster pistols to waist height from their thigh holsters moved carefully into a large bedroom.

We'll see what pops up...Oh, no --

On the bed, he saw a severely misshapen Twi'lek female corpse, original color too hard to determine. The Twi'lek's darkened body had jagged tears, open wounds, across her back flesh. The corpse was crawling with larvae. Ferrigo steeled himself, shaking his encapsulated head and carrying on with his cautious inspection of the room, while glancing at his HUD for data.

''No thermal traces. Keep your wits, Pross.''

Returning to the bed after clearing the bathroom and other side of the bedroom, the young Mandalorian noticed that the Twi'lek appeared on closer inspection to have been dead for over a week. And...partially eaten. "Haar'chak. Osik'la. Shabla. Shebse." Ferrigo could not restrain from uttering these words aloud.

''Kad Ha'rangir! Who would do this?!''

It was then that Ferrigo heard a short pulsing whine of a laser, fairly heavy duty from the entry hall area. He clucked his tongue."Silent," and he continued, muttering a series of commands into his voice unit. His HUD switched to tactical combat functions. Targeting. Active and inactive weapons systems. And defensive capacities. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, with his blaster pistols drawn. He activated the initial phase ion pulse capacitors of each pistol with a smooth, well-coordinated crossing move of each loose trigger finger before entering the entry hallway.

Ferrigo turned, with his right blaster swung out ahead of him. No response. He moved into the hall, and noted that Lu'uk's vomit appeared to have been tracked toward the door. His cousin's helmet was gone, no longer on the floor.

''Pross. The bucket was there when you crossed the hallway to find the Twi'lek''.

A rumbling clicking noise filled Ferrigo's audio receptors. He quickly stepped back three steps and two more toward the left, nearer the room with the corpse. He quickly holstered his right pistol, swung his right fist out to his right at shoulder level and barked. "Cam-Right-Thermal," he looked right to see a heat signature of a small humanoid. His stun ray, activated with a squeeze of his fist, shuddered the warm shape and sent it backward into the wall. Ferrigo opened his hand briefly and heard an exotically-articulated roar.

The young Mandalorian did not see the large grey Trandoshan's claw until it hit his right pectoral muscle and shoulder. The pain was lessened by the protection offered by the beskar'gam, but Ferrigo was momentarily stunned, and spun clockwise to the floor.

''No heat signature! And a cloaking body suit?!''

He began to enter a roll onto his left shoulder when he felt a sharp pain in his back. The heat of a blaster charge warmed the beskar back panel of his armored vest, and the concussion made Ferrigo gasp and wince as he rolled and turned to fire with his left blaster pistol.

The Trandoshan was not to be seen. Ferrigo regained his feet, warily looking around the apartment. He clucked his tongue. "LOUD."

"Attention, sleemo Trandoshan. Come out now and spare yourself a miserably painful death," Ferrigo challenged, and reached into his right side cargo pocket for the spray canister. On removing it, he sprayed the air in front of him generously, and then tossed the canister into the darker half of the small apartment."You wasted a poor Twi'lek girl. That is a shame, barve. Your method is amateur and in poor taste."

A hiss filled the air, followed by a rolling clicking sound. The Trandoshan quickly emerged from the opposite bedroom with his rifle pointed at Ferrigo. Ferrigo's left blaster pistol fired a shot that caused the rifle to explode in the Trandoshan's claws. The grey reptilian humanoid roared and charged young Prosstang after throwing the broken rifle aside. Ferrigo's right fist clenched and a circular ring of stun energy zipped over the Trandoshan's shoulder as it dived at him.

The concussion of the Trandoshan's head on Ferrigo's beskar'gam clad torso send both out of control into the floor near the foot of the corpse-occupied bed. The Trandoshan spoke in Galactic Basic. "I didn't waste the Twi'lek girl," with a guttural roar, his tongue slithered as he hissed and clucked in seeming delight, having Ferrigo pinned. "A hunter has to feed. And I feasted!"

Ferrigo shouted, "Kad!" The downward curl of his fist caused his right gauntlet's vibroblade to extend with a loud schuhck.

"You have been too easy to defeat, Mandalorian! Easier than the other one!" The Trandoshan got up, and picked up Ferrigo from the floor, and with a pressing lift held Ferrigo over his head.

"Ner shebse, di'kut!" Ferrigo ran the tip of his blade into and down the inside of the left wrist and forearm of his beastly foe. The high pitched trilling squawk of the Trandoshan caused Ferrigo to shudder slightly as the reptilian lost his handle on his prey and instead gripped his freely-bleeding left wrist. Ferrigo slashed firmly across the neck of his attacker on his way down, and the Trandoshan used both claws to slam Ferrigo's helmet from front and back when Ferrigo was on his feet again. The Mandalorian began to fall down, feeling and seeing darkness invade his sight, the HUD seemingly disabled. Ferrigo groaned in pain and slashed at the left leg of his large opponent.

The Trandoshan screeched painfully, gripped at its neck, kicked at and stepped on Ferrigo as he hobbled quickly for the entryway. Ferrigo's armor protected him from the sharp claws, but the strength of its kicks and weight of the Trandoshan's treading pushed out all of the young Mandalorian's air. After a few seconds, Ferrigo was able to regain his breath, his vision and his feet. His HUD was not working, but the helmet still fit, and the visor had visibility. Ferrigo did not find the stunned invader, nor the Trandoshan as he looked about the apartment.

He removed a narrow cylinder with a tapered end and a thin, limp, multiple-collared hose from his left cargo pocket. The young Mandalorian attached the thin hose to the tapered cylinder. Looking up and around, he tossed the assembly onto bed and tried to catch deeper breaths. The foul stench that he had been previously able to escape grabbed his attention.

''Pross, you need to get a move on. Lu'uk is probably needing your help chasing that fierfekking lizard''.

He lifted and twisted a plate on the top surface of his right gauntlet and slid it backward within a grooved track until it clicked in place. He wondered for a split second as he looked at the small hole if maybe his flame unit would have been useful. He picked up the assembly from the bed and inserted the cylinder into the hole firmly. He pressed a few buttons and a sucking hiss emitted from the tip of the hose hanging from his gauntlet. He moved down to the floor, keeping an eye toward the entry hall as he vacuumed up visible traces of blood and scale fragments from the Trandoshan's wounds. When he had collected a sufficient sample, Ferrigo stood up, still looking toward the entry door. Something caught his eye, and he quickly disassembled the vacuum unit and placed the components into his left cargo pocket, and reset the plate to cover the valve hole in his gauntlet. Ferrigo drew his pistols and approached the entry door.

His heart sank when he looked out the front door into the corridor.

His cousin Lu'uk was mostly sitting against the corridor opposite from the apartment. A large gaping, and yet smoldering wound should have been his cousin Ordo's neck. There was no sign of his cousin's head nor helmet. Ferrigo took the shoulder plates from his cousin's armor, and tucked them into his left cargo pocket. Ferrigo checked his weapons and walked down the corridor cautiously, but with some speed, despite his aches. He made it down to the atrium, but despite use of his full array of sensors, Ferrigo did not find his younger cousin Jannigo, nor did he see the grey, striped Trandoshan or his partner on the way to Glassed, the local cantina downstairs.

A Hidden Spotlight Dance with Voodoo
He sat down in a booth by himself and ordered a pint of ne'tragal. And held back his tears as he took off his helmet and placed it on the table in front of him. His body was racked with aches and shooting pains. He tried to stifle his anguished expressions. He was startled when a beautiful, blue-eyed brunette woman, somewhere in her mid-20s wearing deep red-painted beskar'gam sat across the table from him. She seemed to fill every plate and cup of her armor to their limits. The left chest cup had an upside down hollow yellow triangle painted on it.

"Relia Vu'udrel," Ferrigo said, spent and with a smile that betrayed some of his discomfort.

"How you doin' kid? Looks like you been pumped out the osik'la shebse of a sick bantha," the woman said with a leering smile.

Ferrigo liked her quite a bit. So did several of Jaster Mereel's other soldiers. Some venerated her, for she was wild. In every way imaginable. Fit for battle. Any battle. Armed. Unarmed. Armored. Undressed. She had made it clear in the past that she would make a man of Ferrigo, as she had with other Mereel verde. All he had to do was pick up her helmet and carry it with him to a private room. Anywhere. He thought on it a bit. "What are you doing here?"

"Just made some bounties," she said somewhat sheepishly, as she lit a spiced tobacco cigarillo.

"Bounties? You don't sound convincing. What kind of bounties?" Ferrigo looked into her eyes, but she evaded his gaze, looking instead toward the exit.

"Easy money," she turned her face back to him, her elbow resting on the table as she held her hand out, fingers pinching the smoking stick and exhaling smoke toward the dim overhead light. "Are you gonna tell me how you're doing? Or am I gonna have to make a man out of you?"

"I am a man, Relia. Are you free?" Ferrigo said evenly through the smoke.

She inhaled from the cigarillo. "For the right price," she said casually as she exhaled.

Ferrigo slid from his bench seat, stood on the cantina floor and walked over toward the buxom Mandalorian woman. He picked up the helmet from the edge of her bench seat. "I won't charge you anything, Voodoo."

Relia Vu'udrel laughed out loud, attracting the attention of several patrons. "Ad'ika! You're gonna make me spill!" She stood, extinguished her smoking stick and took Ferrigo's hand as he escorted her toward the exit. The bartender asked her about her drink. "Put it on the tab or in the fridge. I'll be back in a half-hour."

"How about both?" the bartender quipped loudly without being distracted from his cleaning routine between serving drinks.

Though not much nicer in layout or upkeep from his cousin's shoddy apartment building, and actually closer to the cantina, Relia Vu'udrel's apartment was charming. And smelled much nicer than any place he'd experienced so far in Negat. He was very excited for what seemed to lay ahead. Much more excited and prepared than Relia had anticipated from a lad more than ten years her junior. He waited for her to finish her shower before taking one of his own. He emerged from the refresher asking for a towel, but Vu'udrel told him that he would have to take the towel that covered her as she laid on the bed.

By the end of the second hour of their time together that afternoon, she pleaded for mercy.

"Voodoo, I love you!" Ferrigo gasped in response.

"You...shouldn't be allowed to do what you just did, kid. For your first time? It's not fair. Where did you learn to do all that?" Relia rasped, with flushed features, soaking wet from the heat that surrounded her and her young lover.

Ferrigo just smiled, his young, smooth face and torso drenched in perspiration, as well as his mop of hair. "I said I love you, Relia."

"You don't need to say that, Pross. You're just a kid. But haar'chak, you come out of the shower looking like you've taken a beating, and then you do this to me."

"Hod Ha'ran, dala!" Ferrigo held her tightly to him. "Be my girl, Voodoo."

She gasped involuntarily with his slick movement, then shook her head with a grim smile. "You're a stud, Ferrigo. But I already promised to marry Tyro Kels'mek."

Ferrigo was stunned. "You what? But -- Tyro. He's my best friend; like my big brother."

"Even if I loved you, Ferrigo - and believe me, it would be easy to fall for you. You are amazing. But I don't think I can see you again," she looked up into his eyes, her desire betraying her words. "The other guys are harmless. I won't be able to get enough of you. I think you'll hurt me. Break my heart."

Ferrigo got up out of her bed and dressed himself as quickly as possible. Relia began to dress herself but couldn't get the words out to ask him to stay a while longer before he had exited her apartment.

Ferrigo's Prosstang Town Homecoming
Two weeks had passed since the Battle of Korda-6, and a few days short of a week since Ferrigo had returned to Mandalore. He had stayed for a few days more at a hotel in Nagat Cube City, and caught up with Jannigo, who had made friends with some of the kids his age in Negat. He also knew his friend and mentor, Tyro Kels'mek, lived in Negat City, but he felt uncomfortable with Relia's revelation after the time they had shared. And so, Ferrigo was well-received by his father and mother in the Master Suite at the Prosstang Palace several days later with joyous astonishment. The son they had believed dead told his parents that he had been betrayed to the Death Watch and that he spent the last few weeks in transit to the Prosstang Estate. His uncle Rappretto Prosstang was also very pleased to have his son back home.

"Ferrigo!" His parents shouted in unison and embraced him tightly as he mounted the landing atop the top step to the Palace entrance. His mother kissed his cheeks.

His mother pressed slightly in her next comment. "Ferrigo, we are so happy to see you. But you seem different."

"Yeah, someone sort of busted up my helmet," Ferrigo quipped, as he lifted it from his belt clip to display it in its circumference. "I need to get my gear repaired and repainted."

"I heard that Jaster Mereel died in battle," Q'osstigo Prosstang said inquisitively. "And that a few of his own men might have been responsible. Do you know anything about this?"

"The only one I know of was Montross," Ferrigo shook his head. "He got me reassigned to his command and my equipment didn't function when our unit was dropped into the kill zone of a turbo laser bunker," he glanced at his father. "He set me up to be killed. Equipment that our own company produced. I'm lucky to be alive."

Signara Prosstang said with sadness. "As was your cousin Lu'uk. Until a few days ago. And thank goodness Jannigo is okay. Where were you the last few weeks?"

His father interjected. "We heard Lu'uk was taken out by a bounty hunter. Xossk. A Trandoshan. Word has gone around that you and Lu'uk were in league with Death Watch on that mission to Korda-6. We have been the subject of a lot of unfriendly attention."

Ferrigo responded wearily. "You seem to know as much as I do, buire, and I was the only one there aside from Lu'uk when we were attacked at his apartment in Negat."

"Word gets around, son," his father said without apology. "I have a network of information sources that help Prosstang Industries capture and keep business leads."

"I'm so glad that Jannigo was not there to see that." Ferrigo's mother sighed.

"Montross would have everyone believe that I am Death Watch. He didn't expect us to survive to tell our stories," Ferrigo took a deep breath. "But the 'word' you have heard is untrue. We were set up. Have those people come lie to my face."

Q'osstigo complained. "Your mother and I, and others of the clan have been receiving death threats. I've had to create a security detachment for Prosstang Industries in order to protect our people in our lands, our town and the staff and assets of the company," the older Prosstang looked toward his wife. "The King has no stomach for local authority militias."

Signara took a deep breath, consternation crossing her attractive features. Ferrigo spoke after taking a deep breath a moment before. "This is good, father. Long overdue. But it should be me and Mereel's men providing the manpower."

Ferrigo's mother looked to speak again before she was interrupted by Q'osstigo. "You have much to learn, son. Prosstang Industries screens for loyalty and trains, mostly police force reserves or retirees from Sundari. You haven't yet begun your apprenticeship toward becoming a part of Prosstang Industries. You'd better understand the politics behind every decision we make."

"Every decision he makes may indeed have political consequence, Ferrigo," Signara spoke with quiet, icy derision. "I have taken a lot of criticism from my peers in the Royal Cabinet with your father's formation of this paramilitary force,"

"Paramilitary force?" Q'osstigo retorted, after turning his gaze to his wife.

"It's a breach of the peace, dear Aliit'alor Prosstang. Arming for peace is not peaceful at all. It suggests a mind of warfare." Signara stated firmly, her arms folded and eyes fixed on her husband's.

Ferrigo stood in awe of his parents and their show of power. Their building passion. He saw an opportunity, an opening."Tell me, Father. Do you do business with the Clan Vizsla?"

"Why, I don't know, though I suppose it's possible," Q'osstigo returned his attention to his son and spread his hands as if to explain. "Our employees take orders, write invoices, make sales to customers who prefer little fanfare in their purchases. What does it matter? Vizsla and his goons, they're looking for you, Ferrigo."

"Tor Vizsla is an important man within Death Watch," Ferrigo said with conviction, squeezing his right hand into a fist. "He would want me dead. Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Of course it does, Ferrigo. I’m not entirely surprised. He has a reputation for being rash and uncivil," Q'osstigo said, slightly shaking his head. "I'm not proud that the Vizslas are even remotely distant cousins to us. But what do you expect me to do about it? I am in business, to provide work, shareholder value and dividends to our clan. His money talks the same language as everyone else's, if that's what you're getting at."

"I think this family needs to manage its affairs in clan and business in line with the Royal Government," Signara was firm. "And Ferrigo, I think you need to take some time away from this mercenary work. It's getting too dangerous. Hitting too close to home."

"Ni shereshoy bah verde." Ferrigo said as he looked directly at his father, then at his mother.

Signara put her hands up in resignation. "You sound like everything I stand against, my dear son. I have lovingly raised you to be a child of intelligence, wonder and peace. And..." she bit her tongue, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni," Q'osstigo replied evenly.

"Mom. Dad." Ferrigo put his hand on his mother's shoulder. "A peaceful society needs peacekeepers. I wish the two of you would understand me. That I want to be the peacekeeper who can make Mandalore strong and independent. I've always felt, in my dreams, a destiny to protect." A son regarded both of his parents, and noted their slight discomfort.

I was called on by the Jedi Order.

Signara held her son's left shoulder. "I will be more open to your goal, my handsome son. And maybe we can talk more about this later," Ferrigo felt a warmth spread through his upper torso. "For now, I am going to check on dinner preparations."

"Vor'e ner cyar'ika," his father regarded his mother and then looked at Ferrigo. "You certainly have a rather expansive ambition, Ferrigo. You're still but a lad," Q'osstigo paced the hallway to the balcony overlooking the southern Main Gate, community fire pit, and the large veshok framed and sided house built by his ancestor Cedrigo Prosstang to honor the officially-recognized founder of the Clan Prosstang. The community fire pit always had at minimum a small flame, and a sizeable store of firewood and kindling were replenished every week from tree farms to the north.

Ferrigo strode into the daylight of the Mandalorian star, joining his father on the balcony. The young Prosstang gazed downward from the rail, from left to right. The variety of green, silver and pink vegetation of the Prosstang Memorial Park was hearty, with tall trees separating the Prosstang Palace from the heavily armored Prosstang'la Allit'alor Mausoleum. The mausoleum held the remains of thousands of years of Prosstangs, Prasz'tangs, and Prasz'taungs.

Ferrigo shook his head. "I'm a man, Father. I would like to prepare for marriage. I've been reading alot..."

"Son, I am proud of you. Don't get me wrong when I tell you, you have a lot yet to learn."

"I am no longer without experience in love, Father." Ferrigo made his best effort not to smile at the thoughts of his recent connection with Relia Vu'udrel.

Curtly, his father spoke with a glance at his son that showed some pride. "There is a difference between experiencing love, being in love and being loving, Ferrigo. Marriage comes with responsibility," Q'osstigo's brow furrowed and his gaze focused squarely on his son. "Taking another man's betrothed is not a step to be taken lightly, Ferrigo."

Ferrigo shook his head and chuckled ruefully. "I guess I need to check my equipment for eavesdropping features you've added."

"I heard from more than one client that you arrived on Mandalore less than a week ago. I'm not sure what you've been up to between Korda-6 and now, but I would ask you to consider well your Mother's request to stay out of trouble for a while," Ferrigo's father appeared sincere.

Signara returned, with a tray of beverages and small cut vegetable appetizers to set on a small table near the balcony rail.

"You'll have to spend some time with me, Q'oss'buir. Can you tolerate that?" Ferrigo caught his mother's smile.

"Ratiin, ner ad'ika. Just because I'm hard on you doesn't mean I don't love you. What I have to teach you will not be nearly as exciting as Jaster Mereel's teachings. But I hope you will learn many rewarding lessons about running and leading a business under the basic principles of the Resol'nare," Q'osstigo turned for a moment to regard his wife. "As well as the importance of understanding and influencing political connections."

Ferrigo took a deep breath, a glass of cold tea and sipped. "Very good, Mom."

Q'osstigo shared a glance with Signara before turning to Ferrigo. "I want you to join me and a team of governmental and public relations staff on a trip to Makem Te. You should be prepared with your beskar'gam, no missiles or anything high impact. Just need you to protect our team and be a nice, happy face. And pay attention. Can you do that, son?"

Barely restraining his excitement, Ferrigo replied as evenly as he could. "Of course, Dad. What's up on Makem Te?"

"Mining," Signara drank some tea and looked to the southwest across the Old Town blocks, including the blue roof of the regionally renowned tapcaf, The Itchy Strill, construction of which some said preceded the building of the first Clan Prosstang Chieftain's home over 3500 years before. She turned to face her husband and son. "And a religious ruling sect of Swokes Swokes beings."

Q'osstigo grinned at his wife. "The Galactic Senate has voted to empower the Trade Commission to negotiate a contract with the ruling Congress of Caliphs of Makem Te. That contract, I hope, will give Prosstang Industries a lock on a substantial share of extractable ores."

"And spice, dear?" Signara raised her eyebrow.

"Cyar'ika, that's off the table." Ferrigo's father shot a glance at his mother.

"Just checking, Q'osstigo, my dear."

"I didn't realize you've been reviewing the executive summary reports, ner cyar'ika," Q'osstigo seemed a little perturbed. "I've been able to secure financing, equipment, supplies and the expertise to get Prosstang Mining a foothold."

"I'm so glad you're my parents," Ferrigo drank more of his cold tea, and watched his mother move to the rail out of the corner of his eye. "I'll keep my eyes open on Makem Te. Mind if I bring on a few trusted security crew, Father?"

"You'll already have enough of a team: Brelek and Melaa Kuporr, Preniik Su'uleezs, Anjii Dawal and Ghez Hokan."

Ferrigo nodded and finished his tea, looking toward the New Town areas south and west of the walled Old Town. "I have to straighten things out with Jango Fett. I haven't seen him since Korda-6. He finally gave the okay to pay him a visit today."

"Be careful, ad'ika. Don't forget. You have a commitment with Prosstang Industries."

Correcting the Record
After several communications, Jango Fett agreed to receive Ferrigo at his discreetly located apartment in one of the warehousing districts of Sundari. The young Fett and three of their comrades were present, all in modest street clothing, including Fett's second-in-command, Myles, and Silas, who had always seemed to be a little too reverent toward Jango. The third was Ijaat Kabur. At over 40 years of age at that time, the heavily-bearded Kabur was factually an elder of the remaining True Mandalorians, along with Walon Vau, Kal Skirata, and Mij Gilamar, none of who were present. Ferrigo had always found Ijaat to be professional, highly-skilled and good humored. Despite the established friendships among the gathering, tension was in the air.

Ferrigo spoke up. "Jango, I respect the memory of Jaster Mereel. And the relationship you and he had, son to father.You know that Montross tried to drive a wedge between us and Jaster."

Jango and the others appraised Ferrigo until Fett responded. "Well, did he? Word is you went against Mereel and took out your own cousin to prevent him from spilling to me, Myles or Ijaat."

"Mereel was like my dad too, Jango," Ferrigo said firmly. "And, I have respect for you, ner vod. We are different in methods you and I. But we are like brothers. We both believe in the Supercommando Codex. That there is honor and being prepared to protect those who would be otherwise defenseless. I seek to even the score with Montross and Vizsla and Death Watch for what they have done to our cause and to my name."

Fett said nonplussed. "I hear you are a busy man. This is not a weekend warrior cause, Prosstang. But you are welcomed back nonetheless for what time you have. You must be ready to fight at any moment."

"I am ready," Ferrigo assured his friends. "And I will see that we are well-supplied."

"Ferrigo. Jaster once told me that he held you in highest regard as a skilled and cunning warrior. Don't lose your focus, ner vod," Jango finished. "Don't go soft."

Two hours later, Ferrigo emerged a bit more reassured, having shared his experience on Korda-6 with his comrades. He also learned from Fett, Myles, Silas and Kabur that Montross had through other channels implicated Prosstang and Lu'uk Ordo in the betrayal of Mereel and the others. But the matter had been cleared up, with Fett and Prosstang once again friends and comrades-in-arms.

Supporting a Comrade-in-Arms
Fellow True Mandalorian and good friend, the veteran Tyro Kels'mek met him for drinks at The Bivouac Tapcaf after the meeting with Fett and the others. The two shook hands, clasping each other's leather jacket-clad forearms, and extending further to pat each other's back. The Bivouac, or The Biv, was well-known among the underground mercenary community in Mandalorian space.

"Ferrigo Prosstang!" Kels'mek hollered from the bottom of his lungs.

Ferrigo chuckled and smiled. "Bam-Bam!"

Tyro smiled at his nickname, and immediately asked the question on the minds of just about every one of Jaster Mereel's Legacy. "Pross, have you straightened out your issues with Jango?"

"We're good...'lek," Ferrigo answered.

"Pross, you're like my kid brother. And best friend. I trust you with everything," Tyro walked Ferrigo over to a booth and sat down across from the younger Mandalorian, and pulled two fingers up into the air as if drawing in a net. The bartender set into motion to drawing two ales into glasses.

"And..." Ferrigo queried.

The larger Mandalorian looked across the table, leaning under the overhanging light. "I want you to be my best man, Fer'k," Kels'mek smiled. "I'm gonna marry Relia Vu'udrel."

Ferrigo stifled his feelings for Voodoo, and his very recent memories. "Wow, Tyro! Relia's mando'karla beyond compare! You are so lucky, ner vod! Of course I'll be your best man!"

"Bartender, make that three," at that moment, a stocky, grim-featured man with short-cropped dark brown hair wearing a brown bantha leather hide jacket and black slacks walked up to their table and motioned for Ferrigo to slide over to make room, which he did. "Vode. Bam, I hear you're going to make an honest woman of Voodoo."

Tyro laughed. "You can't imagine how happy I am, Kal."

"Actually," the man, settling into his seat next to Ferrigo, casting a glance at him before returning his attention to Tyro Kels'mek. "I can."

Shaking his head, still smiling, Tyro spoke more evenly. "Kal Skirata, you Cyborrean dog. She wants to be with me."

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Tyro," Kal Skirata seemed to soften a bit, though it seemed he knew Relia's reputation as well as anyone. "She is a sweetheart. And deadly in the field. Never met a woman who could collect intel as effectively as she does, either."

Tyro shrugged and glanced briefly at Ferrigo before refocusing on Kal. All three took generous drains on their golden-hued ales.

Skirata cleared his throat and continued. "Don't take her off her game, Kels'mek. We're gonna need her. It was bad enough this kid over here..." Kal's left thumb pointed to Ferrigo as he spoke. "Nearly had his lungs pasted all over a bunch of apes on Korda-6. I understand that was a kriffing pull of the strings by Montross..."

"Yeah," Ferrigo said, calmly taking another deep drink of his ale. Tyro's glance stirred between Ferrigo and Kal before he took another drink.

Kal gasped after a hearty quaff of his own. He then raised his eyebrows, looking into his glass as if expecting a collection of ale bubbles to divine an answer he was seeking. "I know that Voodoo was on another job. But the intel suffers on the big jobs when she's not in on 'em."

"You're not Mereel. You're not Fett," Tyro Kels'mek set his empty glass on the varnished veshok tabletop. "Why do you think my girl has to be everyone's savior?"

"I agree with Bam-Bam, Kal," Ferrigo tiptoed into the conversation. "If we have to depend on Relia to do all the intel, we're osik'la. I can do some intel work..." Ferrigo was cut short as Kal raised his left hand in front of the younger Mandalorian's face.

"Let's celebrate. To Tyro and Relia," when Kal Skirata had decided to drop a topic of conversation, it was gone. It had been said that Skirata could carve the meat from a living being to the bone with his vibroblade before that being drew its last breath. "May they be blessed by Kad Ha'rangir with many little warriors."

All three smiled and raised a toast, though Tyro's glass was empty. The bartender brought another round to the table, and the trio shared small talk over the next half hour or so before departing each others' company at The Biv.

Retracing Steps and Preparing a Deception
Kal Skirata slowed Ferrigo and asked him to hold tight for minute after Tyro had left in his airspeeder. The young Prosstang was a bit unsettled, but did as he was asked. Kal finished a comm link call and motioned for Ferrigo to join him. "Kid, I need to talk to you."

"What is it Kal?" Ferrigo wanted to be open with Skirata, but he still felt uneasy.

"Don't say no. Or I'll kick your shebse up and down this walkway, and cut you in so many places you won't know a breath from a fart," Kal continued. "We're going on a trip to Negat. You left some unfinished business early in the week, and some powerful people have taken notice."

"But...I already straightened things out with Jango," Prosstang said plaintively.

Kal cleared his throat. "Look, son, I know that eating a Twi'lek entertainer's entrails isn't in your profile. But incinerating Lu'uk Ordo and a Gotal swindler named Kirr Gagga just might stick on you." The older man pointed for Ferrigo to climb into his airspeeder.

Ferrigo protested on two counts. "Kal, I need to lock my ride, and there's no way that I pulled the kill trigger on my cousin or a Gotal."

After Ferrigo sat down and strapped in, Skirata commanded the controls confidently, raising the speeder above the platform rails, gently diving down and to the right. Soon, their speeder had merged into the fleeting light flares of outbound traffic. "Your ride is under control. It will turn up in Prosstang Town in a few days."

"What exactly are we doing, Kal?"

"Fer'ika, you have a price on your head," Kal glanced over at Ferrigo as the airspeeder's alert system informed them with a ping of a toll as the vehicle crossed the exit threshold. "And I didn't want to say this in front of Tyro...I believe our Voodoo might have some information about the job."

"WHAT?!" Ferrigo looked incredulously at Kal, and then gazed at the control panel as Skirata punched a few buttons while continuing to master the steering handles.

"I almost took the job myself, until I found out who it was, kid." Kal said flatly. "I think Voodoo came to the same conclusion. Or I'd like to believe she did."

"What conclusion?" Ferrigo was internally stirred, thinking about his time with Relia, so soon after the events. ''Could she have known? Is that...why she was where I was - right there with me? Asking me how I was?''

Kal seemed locked in thought for several seconds before he responded. "Lu'uk Ordo was not a good boy, Fer'ika. He had some serious debts, and he was not exactly the best about acquiring or completing contracts," Skirata sniffed and slightly banked a left turn. "I have heard that Voodoo might have been a spotter for the prime tracker on Lu'uk Ordo. To ensure the job got done."

"Tracker. Tracker? It was a hit, Kal," Ferrigo began to fume.

"I know, kid. But I think things went sideways. You showed up. Ordo was supposed to get taken into custody. It wasn't a wet job." Skirata was calm.

"Why? Why, Kal?" Ferrigo asked, gently moving his right hand toward the outside of his right thigh. "Why do you know so much, or care?"

"Don't do it, kid. I can fry your shebse where you sit, and despite the fact that Jaster Mereel himself told me to take you under my wing, I won't hesitate to do it if you kriff with me." Ferrigo moved his palm to rest flat on top of his thigh. "Because Mereel told me to keep an eye on you, I was in Negat when I heard that a Republic ship carrying two Mandalorian citizens was arriving at Sundari. It had to be you and Ordo, and I knew that he wasn't welcomed at Prosstang Town.

"I also knew that he had a price on him. For debt collections. I'd seen the job wire myself. Mereel always told us to never do work on Mandalore, most especially targeting our fellow Supercommandos. In beating the bushes, I heard from a few of our vode, including Voodoo, that they'd passed on it too. Mereel always told us we needed to stick together. Only 2000 Republic credits. Gets too messy, would lead to too many wedges between us as a cohesive force of professional soldiers. We were and are a team."

"But, Voodoo..." Ferrigo said wistfully. "I...spent the afternoon with her that day, Kal."

"I'm glad Tyro doesn't know that, kid. I was close enough for a few minutes to hear the carrying on. I've heard that dala sing before, but that was something impressive. You're lucky Ordo's amateur killer didn't come after you then."

"I didn't know she and Tyro were engaged, Kal. Honest," young Prosstang probed again. "There's a connection between Relia and...Xossk, the Trandoshan?"

"From what I gather," Kal started, and used hand gestures to supplement his explanation. "Voodoo would have only been the control officer for the op. Providing background to the tracker-hunter. Confirming to the client that the hard merchandise was secured."

"Hard merchandise?" Ferrigo was slightly puzzled. He'd heard the term used before in the context of bounties, but not often enough to remember it. Yet.

"Ordo," Kal said casually. "He was supposed to be the hard merchandise. I inspected the scene and cleaned up shortly after you left. They took his head? His helmet?" Ferrigo nodded as Skirata glanced over for a moment.

Ferrigo inhaled. "So, for less than 2000 credits, Voodoo was directing traffic on bringing my cousin in. But for who?"

The airspeeder had seamlessly entered an open lock in the lower level entering Negat Cube City and parked close to Glassed, the cantina. As they climbed out of the speeder, Kal checked a blaster pistol holstered inside the left side of his jacket. "We're gonna find out, kid. No misty-eyed moments, got it? And set your blaster for stun."

"Misty-eyed? I don't know what you're talking about, Kal." Ferrigo lied, and then quipped as they strode toward the entry to the cantina amid floating wrappers and decayed food scraps and befouled clothing. "I hope this doesn't get us crossed off the wedding invite list."

"By the way, kid," Kal looked over after slowing to a stop near the entry. "The price on your head is 20,000 Republic credits. Dead or alive."

Ferrigo's mouth dropped open.

Getting to the Bottom of Voodoo: Vanishing Act
Kal Skirata turned to Ferrigo. "Kid, we're not wearing our beskar'gam, don't do anything stupid or heroic. We're only here to talk."

"Got it, sir."

"Sir?" Skirata winced as he turned to look at the younger Prosstang, a full head taller than the hard-edged veteran.

"You keep calling me kid, sir," Ferrigo said evenly. "Giving you the respect, Kal."

Kal grinned tightly. "Prosstang, you cheeky di'kut, remember what I said. I'll cut you if you kriff with me."

"Kal, I want to find out who's put a price on my head. Let's go, please."

The two men walked into Glassed, paying attention to their surroundings, Ferrigo followed Kal's lead. Kal held up two fingers of his left hand and then pointed at a vacant raised booth around the edge of the cantina. As they sat down, Skirata glanced at his wrist chrono, which had a blinking light. After pushing a button with his right hand, the light extinguished.

"Voodoo will be here in two minutes. Scoot over," Kal seemed slightly disturbed. The server set two pints of ne'tragal on the table.

Ferrigo quietly cleared his throat. "What's the matter, Kal?"

His lips barely open, Skirata muttered clearly. "Kyr'tsad olar. Ni gar hukaat'kama."

Ferrigo was tempted to turn to look, but instead gazed into Kal's eyes.

Kal continued, raising his voice. "Anytime you want to head to Nar Shaddaa, kid, just let me know. There's plenty of work there. A lot of loose shipments in need of tightening down." The older Mando's blue eyes shifted from Ferrigo toward the entrance as he spoke.

Again, Ferrigo resisted the urge to look to the entrance. "Is the pay worth my time?" Ferrigo asked slightly unsteadily, as if for effect. "I would have to find an excuse to get out of my academy courses." Ferrigo drank from his pint glass.

"You are one cheeky little di'kut, kid," Kal said with a winning smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Not sure how you think you can do cargo security jobs and go to school...while still making ends meet."

"He doesn't have any trouble making ends meet, ner Kal'ika," Relia Vu'udrel said sharply with a slight leer as she used her right hand to push Ferrigo's left shoulder. The young Mandalorian shifted over to his right on the bench seat to make more room for Relia, who wore a tight-fitting deep blue jumpsuit with cargo pockets seeming to locate themselves at irregular intervals.

"You would know, Voodoo. Heard the kid's loaded," Kal drank from his pint glass.

"He sure is," Relia picked up Ferrigo's glass and drank to seemingly quench a great thirst. With a gasp and wipe of her lips with the back of her right hand, Relia then set down the young Prosstang's glass. Only a third of its original volume of ne'tragal remained. "I think his tastes better, Skirata."

Ferrigo gazed at her sitting next to him and felt a warmth spreading from his stomach, his feelings for her aroused.

Skirata smiled with a gaze of bemusement. "Oh, do you? You haven't tried mine," his right hand raised to stroke his chin as his other hand offered his glass of ale to her. Relia raised her hand to rebuff the offer. Kal shrugged with a raised eyebrow and took a strong pull on his ale.

"Find it hard to believe you could forget, Kal," she said tartly with a widening, wicked smile as her hands fanned out. "I've already tasted yours. And trust me, young Ferrigo here is the cream of the crop."

Kal's body jerked as he spat a wide and generous spray of ale all over Ferrigo and Relia. A moment later, as Kal choked and coughed and Relia began to laugh, a bolt of light slammed into the wall over Skirata's head. The overwhelming odor of ozone and burnt durasteel spread to Ferrigo's nose instantly. Relia fell to her left out of the booth and onto the floor, as she seemed to grab for something in a pants pocket. In one fluid motion, Ferrigo turned left and pulled his holdout pistol from his right thigh pouch and trained it toward the door. Two rings seemingly floated on zephyrs from under Kal's corner of the table toward the bank of booth tables along the entrance wall. Ferrigo brandished his pistol, readying his fingers as he watched two men wearing black jackets fall from their benches onto the floor. Kal's aim had been true. Both shots.

"Get up, honey," Skirata quickly picked Relia up, holding her arm. "The stunning moment is over. And we really need to have a talk." He turned to Ferrigo. "Kid, pay our tab and take the bigger one." Skirata let go of Relia to lift the smaller man onto his left shoulder. "Cyar'ika, would you please help me walk Dikk to his speeder?" Relia held the smaller man's left arm around her shoulder as she joined Kal in dragging him.

Ferrigo caught a glance of tempered misery on Voodoo's face. He tossed a credit chip onto the bar that generously covered the damages as well as beverages and went over to pick up and carry the larger of the two men wearing black. The man's feet dragged behind them as Ferrigo carried him outside the entrance of the cantina.

"You guys sure know how to have fun. Together." Relia said impishly.

"Where's your ride, Voodoo?" Kal was clearly impatient.

Relia glanced over Ferrigo with her smiling blue eyes, lips opened slightly. Ferrigo inhaled, also impatiently. "We need to get out of here, Relia. There's some serious osik that needs to be cleaned up."

Joy Ride with Death Watchmen
"Over here," Vu'udrel pointed and strutted toward an old vehicle that looked like a decommissioned taxi. Some of the markings, though faded and scraped, were still visible. "Load 'em in."

Both Kal and Ferrigo had no difficulty dragging the Death Watch operatives to the opened rear passenger door of the speeder. Getting their limp, heavy masses into the passenger compartment was a little more challenging. Kal handled the men once in the interior, setting them and restraining them into seats. Ferrigo climbed in, and now sitting in the driver's seat, Relia activated the door closures and began the speeder's rise above the parking platform rail.

Relia's handling of the vehicle was smooth, but Ferrigo was certain within half a minute that they were not heading toward her apartment, which was less than five minutes walking distance from Glassed. "Where are you taking us, Voodoo?"

"Just a minute, cyar'ika," Relia raised her voice. "Kal, are those guys about the right size?"

"They sure are," Skirata continued. "Take us to Perro's Gulch."

Ferrigo did a double take. "But there's nothing out there. About as far as you'd want to be from Negat. Or anywhere."

"Exactly, Fer'ika," Kal looked at their unconscious companions. "These guys are going to be taking a long dirt nap out there. "

"And I'm collecting on the bounty on your head, ner cyar'ika," Voodoo leered. "And Kal's head while I'm at it," she let out a chuckle.

"Indeed," Kal smiled, pistol drawn. "Kid, you're gonna drag them out, after we swap clothing with these di'kute," Kal returned his pistol into his concealed holster. "Iviinyc! Iviin'yc! Hurry!"

Ferrigo glanced sternly at Kal as he removed the shirt, belt and pants of the larger Death Watch operative. "Sure this is a good idea?"

"Shut it, Prosstang, and strip down," Skirata said gruffly and looked up front as removed his own clothing, and Ferrigo took off his clothing. "Eyes forward, Voodoo."

"You flatter yourself, Kal," Voodoo groaned softly.

"I'm married, Voodoo. And you're slowin'. We there yet?" Kal said urgently, before he looked over at Ferrigo, and undressed the smaller unconscious Death Watch operative. "Kid, Relia collects handsomely from a hut'uun client, and you and me get some free time to work anonymously. Think of this as our bridal shower gift to Relia and Tyro Kels'mek." Ferrigo and Kal put on the Death Watch operatives' clothing quickly, with some stifled gasps at the movement in tight quarters to achieve this feat.

"Yeah, we're there." Relia called out over her right shoulder.

"Give us a few minutes to get these kriffers dressed," Kal tried to pull his pants up the legs of the unconscious operative whose clothes he wore. The speeder had come to a complete stop. The wind howled and buffeted the vehicle, rocking slightly as repulsors held the vehicle a foot above the sandy wasteland.

The door locks disengaged. Ferrigo opened the passenger door and once Kal had given up on the effort to dress his clothing donor with his own clothing, he stepped out of the vehicle, fuming slightly. Relia stepped into the rear passenger compartment, taking Kal's place.

"Get out, kid." Vu'udrel continued. "I have a double date. Looks like I need to fix their clothing some." Relia turned and kissed Ferrigo's cheek before he climbed out of the vehicle to stand near Kal.

"You're the expert with men's clothing, Voodoo," Kal quipped wryly. "Well, maybe not with putting it-"

"K'uur, Skirata!" Relia growled. "Or I will dart you until your osik'la mirsche sprays from your neck! You barely did anything with these guys. Fierfekkin kriff it."

Within ten seconds, and the abrupt discharge of two bursts of energy, the smell of burned flesh and ozone wafted out of the vehicle. Relia exited the vehicle, exhaled and took a deep breath as she holstered her hold-out pistol.

"We need to go," Kal said plainly, clicking a button on a handheld device that looked like a comm link. He started walking, and Relia walked alongside the older Mandalorian. Ferrigo moved across the crackling glass and whispering sands to join them.

"Anybody gonna tell me what's going on here?" Ferrigo demanded.

"Tyro's coming to pick us up, kid," Kal talked as they walked briskly away from the speeder. "Far as Relia's client is concerned, you and I are both dead. And we all get a share of the action."

"I thought you said we don't do jobs on Mandalore," Ferrigo said resolutely.

Within five minutes, in fact, another speeder with minimal lighting hovered into position nearly one hundred paces ahead of them. The door was open, and the trio entered as sand and debris scattered around the rear passenger compartment. Each strapped themselves in.

"Hello, Love," Relia called to the front of the speeder.

"Hey, Doll. You guys have fun?" Tyro's gruff voice sounded a bit tired.

"All in a day's work." Relia said as she glanced at Kal and Ferrigo.

As the speeder lifted and turned back toward Negat, a series of heavy explosions rocked the speeder to the right and forward. Tyro adjusted for the rolling shock waves and continued their return to Negat.

"Let's go to Sundari," Kal raised his voice. "Less heat there for a little while."

Tyro shifted with a slight banking to the right, and just like that, the quartet was on their way to Sundari.

The Kels'mek Wedding
And so it was, that a week later, in the northern reaches of the Prosstang Region at a rather large camp that Tyro and Voodoo married. Ferrigo was able to support a very good friend and mentor in a moment of celebration, relieving him further of the recent painful loss of Jaster Mereel and Lu'uk Ordo.

Others would say that the wedding was brief, if not beautiful as Mandalorian weddings were short and to-the-point. This wedding was filled with delight, joy and humor. Ferrigo would only remember seeing Relia and Tyro kiss, admiring their passion for each other to the extent that a tear formed in his left eye. Sometime later, he awoke to share in the celebration feast and dance.

The event lasted from mid-day at the week's end, and lasted until the early morning of the next day. The dinner feast featured three fully-dressed and roasted shatuals for the nearly eighty guests, along with ne'tragal and narcolethe provided by The Itchy Strill, produced in Prosstang Town, and tihaar distilled by Neddo Bralor and his sister Rav, a few of Jaster Mereel's long-time foot soldiers.

The dancing was lively, and included the Dha Werda Verda, albeit less well-coordinated than it would normally have been. Ferrigo enjoyed himself, getting some Dha Werda Verda lessons from Rav Bralor and Kal Skirata, and otherwise dancing with the younger people in attendance. Jango Fett smiled and sat on to the side for most of the wedding, occasionally talking to other guests. It was clear that he enjoyed observing.

Tyro and Relia apologized to Ferrigo and thanked him for being at the wedding. "Really nice gifts you gave to us," Relia said warmly, as Tyro smiled and agreed.

Ferrigo returned the smile, and continued sipping tihaar.

Nobody went home in a bad mood.

Late Arrivals - Inroads in Makem Te
"Entering Makem Te," the metallic squelch ceased almost as soon as it had begun with the announcement from the pilot's deck. The cruiser rotated its fuselage on entry into the atmosphere. As his stomach settled, Ferrigo took a look through his visor at each of the two members of the security team sharing the passenger cabin with a few of the Prosstang Industries negotiators. Melaa Kuporr was an attractive human femaie, her oval face framed by long, brown hair cut sharply around her shoulders. She was a distant cousin in the Clan Prosstang, around two-to-five years older than Ferrigo. She served in the Sundari police force as a reserve officer, and spent the balance of her time in Rhell'cyok, a farming village near the southern limits of the Clan Prosstang territories. She seemed pensive, but prepared. Preniik Su'uleezs was also of the Clan Prosstang, from the planet Ordo. But he was definitely not like most members of his clan. Su'uleezs was a Togorian Mandalorian, a large feline humanoid with a base coat of medium brown-grey fur with black horizontal stripes. Preniik took up an entire aisle of seats, and seemed to be filing his nails intently. The Prosstang Industries team that sat in front of them included a few male humans and a Duros male wearing business attire.

Ferrigo and the other security officers wore new sets of red-painted beskar'gam, every plate and helmet included, with chromatic metal trim. Their armor seemed coordinated in appearance, though their armor plates and helmets were of differing sizes and contour shapes. Each set of armor bore two horizontal bars high on the left chest plate, the top bar a deep purple and a bright yellow bar slightly spaced below - abbreviated beskar'gam marks of the Clan Prosstang.

Q'osstigo Prosstang and another human male headed toward the three from the foreward section of the passenger deck. "Tetch Kuporr, you know your sister, and this is Preniik Su'uleezs, and Redar Velrrus." Ferrigo and his father had discussed what happened with the bounty collected by Relia Vu'udrel for taking him out, and his need to disappear for a while. He would be Redar Velrrus, until the heat had cooled down with the Hutt who paid for the bounty, or he reached maturity in being able to handle increasing responsibility with Prosstang Industries full-time.

"Yes, pleased to meet you," Tetch Kuporr appeared to be about ten to twenty years older than Ferrigo. "All of you are well-dressed for the occasion," he smiled.

"We'll be ready. For anything, sir." Ferrigo smiled.

Su'uleezs seemed to either purr or growl. Ferrigo wasn't sure which, but he smiled and chuckled quietly.

"You know that it's only a matter of time, Tetch, and I'll have my certification from the academy for forensic investigations," Melaa Kuporr grinned proudly.

"Vod'ika, I'm proud of you. If the Royal Police Force won't take you," Tetch Kuporr paused a beat to glimpse Q'osstigo Prosstang out of the corner of his eye. "I will ask the chief if we can add an investigator to our personnel claims division."

Q'osstigo laughed and patted Tetch on the shoulder as both grasped the nearest seatbacks for stability as the cruiser caromed gently off of pockets of warmed air. "You work in the labor department of Prosstang Industries, Tetch. I'm sure we can work something out."

The speakers, with tinny vibrations, came to life. "This is your pilot. Please find your seats, Prosstang Industries-One is preparing to land at Thousand Thousand. Thanks for flying with us, we know you don't have a choice, but you've been good to us anyway," the pilot paused for several seconds, leaving the channel locked, and some noise from the cockpit echoed into the cabin. "Looks like we have a large welcoming party, folks." the pilot quipped before the channel closed. Q'osstigo and Tetch Kuporr took seats near their standing positions.

Ferrigo adjusted his helmet. "SEAL," he said calmly, and the fabric bladder around the base of his helmet expanded to seal under his chin and back of his skull.

Melaa Kuporr and Preniik Su'uleezs put on their helmets.

Three of the other security team members were in the other cruiser with the mining experts. The experts were hired in the last few months by Q'osstigo Prosstang and the newly reformed board of directors, to get Prosstang Mining up and running. Soon enough, once deboarded from their cruisers, the groups met and mingled several meters from the Swokes Swokes welcoming party. Melaa Kuporr turned to one of the male security team members from the other cruiser and tapped the side of her helmet three times.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "SILENT," he then clicked his tongue three times. "Do you all see what I see?"

Several animated voices flooded the channel. "Quiet!" Preniik practically roared and this visibly startled the other security team members. He stretched to his full height of nearly three meters and continued after issuing a soft purr. "Swokes Swokes. Gentle beings. Don't let appearance frighten you...anger you. Been here before on way Makem Liva moon."

"Makem Liva moon?" a deep male voice queried.

Preniik Su'uleezs turned his head left, the shape of his helmet mimicked his large feline face. His voice purred through the channel. "Yes, Ghez. Prosstang Arms there. Long time. Ancient time. Protect it many times."

A male voice Ferrigo did not readily recognize, but had deduced belonged to Brelek Kuporr chimed in. "Swokesies aren't gentle beings, Soo. Look at the gruesome artwork on these buildings. They are just as hellish as they look."

The Mandalorian security team shared giggles, soft growls and chuckles for a few seconds over the private group comm channel before Anjii Dawal spoke up. "Are these like Hutt demons, or what?" The group chuckled again.

"Good one, Dawal," Brelek Kuporr's voice carried through a smile.

"Thanks for the setup, Kuporr."

Brelek Kuporr chirped. "Oh, Anjii Dawal," he continued after he waved his hand gently toward the other woman wearing deep red Mandalorian shock trooper armor. "Please meet Melaa Kuporr, my sister."

"Pleasure to meet you. Let's be safe."

Ghez Hokan's voice followed a sharp click over the channel. "Swokes aren't peaceful. They like to fight. Not the best technology, but they can heal themselves quickly. Hideous, but dangerous. Keep your eyes open - less chatter."

Preniik Su'uleezs cautioned. "Be respectful. This trade important to Mandalore. And Swokes Swokes. Keep thoughts on Swokes Swokes look to yourselves.

Melaa Kuporr noticed that Anjii Dawal was also of the Clan Prosstang, by her small purple and yellow dash markings on her left armored breast plate.

As the welcoming delegation of Swokes Swokes approached, the rest of Prosstang security team appraised their surroundings, and casually inspected their personal weapons.

Ferrigo considered that he'd never heard of Makem Liva, and that Preniik Su'uleezs had been employed in protecting it for much longer than the few months his father mentioned the existence of a security force. The business executives exchanged greetings with the apparent leaders of the Swokes Swokes delegation. The Congress of Caliphs, Q'osstigo had called them. The twelve Caliphs were dressed in robes that seemed improbably to fit around their nearly shoulder-less pear-shaped bodies.

Though he had activated his camera to record the greeting, Ferrigo noted that each of the Caliphs looked slightly different. Not just in dress, but in their facial and bodily features. These Swokes Swokes generally had light-colored pink, white or green skin, had small stubby horns and sets of widely-spaced sharp teeth in smiling mouths that seemed to extend from nearly half the circumference of their conical heads. A slight sheen of skin oil was noticeable on several of the hosts.

The whole group proceeded, with Ferrigo taking the right forward flanking position next to the Duros representative of Prosstang Industries, with Anjii Dawal behind him by five paces, and Preniik behind and left of her by five paces. Ghez Hokan protected the left forward flanking position next to Tetch Kuporr, Melaa Kuporr five paces behind him, and Brelek Kuporr directly behind her by ten paces.

"Velrrus," Hokan's voice signal was slightly broken. "Keep an eye on our ten, I've got the two."

"'Lek," Ferrigo continued forward, glancing toward the left as the large group passed several low-rise dark, iron-faced buildings that seemed to emerge from the soil with hostile intent. Hokan was taller than average, and Ferrigo was quite tall for a young lad, able to see well over the heads of the shorter Swokes Swokes and catch glimpses of the path ahead. Preniik, at two-and-three quarters meters tall was able to see clearly over the entire group. But only rarely were his purrs heard over the comm channel. "The artwork here on these buildings is...bleak."

Preniik Su'uleezs growled. "Stay focus Velrrus. Swokes Swokes very much religious. Death and afterlife important."

Ferrigo silently reminded himself of his new identity. ''I am Velrrus. Redar Velrrus.''

The Pitch of Prosstang Mining - Q'osstigo's Gambit
After a short while, the group entered a large, squat ornamental iron-clad building with towers rising to great height from each corner. The street entrance, set back several meters across a moat, had equally-proportioned doors with opulent metallic inlays and trimming. Ferrigo, Hokan and Preniik Su'uleezs remained outside the doors for a moment, with two Swokes Swokes security guards wearing studded leather vests and pants, carrying long electro-staffs that crackled with energy. Su'uleezs indicated with his paw to young Prosstang that he should join the group inside. Ferrigo turned after casting a wary glance around the district and entered the building. Su'uleezs and Hokan moved toward the street as the Swokes Swokes guards closed the doors.

Ferrigo heard an audible growl in his audio receivers. It was Su'uleezs. "Kuporrs. Orient apart. Turn on audio recording feed. Hokan have audio feed out here."

After the Prosstang Industries delegation and the Congress of Caliphs settled in at the large round table in the middle of the central chamber, the meeting seemed to proceed smoothly. Protocol droids were stationed at the side of every Swokes Swokes seated at the table, and Q'osstigo Prosstang and the Duros representative of Prosstang Industries each had a protocol droid at their sides. There were a number of humans and other beings of a variety of species seated, including a trio of Muun representing the InterGalactic Banking Clan, who were said to be brokering the outcome of the negotiations.

"Yes, your Holinesses, we have testified on and discussed matters with the Galactic Senate Subcommittee on Trade Expansion. We have worked with the leading senators of that subcommittee to ensure that the rights of your people and your sovereignty are respected," Q'osstigo Prosstang was firm and confident. His protocol droid, TAT-3PO, whose metal had been painted yellow with dark purple markings of intricate design to honor Clan Prosstang history, spoke in Swoken a second behind his master's pauses. "We are hopeful that you are aware that only Subtext Mining and Offworld Mining Corporation have joined us in ensuring the representation of Makem Te is strong."

As TAT-3PO finished repeating Q'osstigo's words in Swoken, one of of the Caliphs spoke. The CZ-series communications droid nearest the Swokes Swokes spoke in Galactic Basic. "Ullu the Mindful reminds Baron Q'osstigo Prosstang and the delegation from Prosstang Industries that you are late. The representatives from Subtext Mining could wait no longer and departed earlier today. Unfortunately, the Hutt representatives from Offworld Mining left yesterday evening. We were hopeful that the three mining interests would be brought together in one voice."

Q'osstigo rose from his seat and spread his hands. "Your Holinesses, we are sure that in the next few days we can come to an agreement that meets or exceeds the terms you have considered from Subtext and Offworld, and better meet the needs of your government," the Mandalorian curled his hand into a gentle fist and drew it to his solar plexus. Ferrigo did a double take and looked around the room, sensing something had changed. TAT-3PO finished translating Q'osstigo Prosstang's words. The main lights dimmed deeply, and an upward-directed halo of faint light ringed the circular conference room.

''Buir. What's up your sleeve?''

Ferrigo activated his HUD and scanned for thermal signatures. His father's silhouette enclosed great warmth, the Swokes Swokes were tepid, and other signatures further down the table, partially obscured, seemed to radiate great heat. Heat that seemed to arc through the air slowly. Ferrigo's audio receptors crackled and squealed, his visual holodisplays blinking out until his helmet systems were dead.

Q'osstigo inhaled slowly and continued, pointing to a holodiagram that appeared in a replicate interval along the length of the conference table. "Chairman Tonith of the InterGalactic Banking Clan and his fellow representatives, Foorlan Wiggo, Senator of the Chardaan System, Vidar Kim, Senator of the Chommel Sector and their Ambassadors. All are here to demonstrate their support for the Swokes Swokes. And for the economic growth that partnership will bring." The chief executive of Prosstang Industries seemed to scan the room. "We hope that the Caliphs, in their discussions over the next two days will take the opportunity to explore through dialogue the benefits of working with Prosstang Mining to safely, sensitively and efficiently extract resources for the prosperity of Makem Te and the Republic."

Nothing transpired during the next hour-and-a half of talks. In the interim, Ferrigo walked over to Melaa Kuporr and told her he was going to leave for fifteen minutes to inspect and repair his helmet. He entered a side room out of sight of the conference room that was indicated by a Swokes Swokes security guard.

On entering, he saw a blue-skinned male and pink-skinned female wearing dark purple flight suits with goldenrod Prosstang Industries insignia. The male had yellow facial tattoos partially obscured by the casual long-billed hat he wore. The female was stunningly beautiful, her hair dark blue and long enough to wear in a braid that seemed to wind itself into relaxation across and down her chest.

"Dinner isn't for another hour," the male said. "Oh, name's Neelis. Jairg's co-pilot."

Ferrigo glanced at Neellis and the female plainly, saying nothing as he scanned the room. "I'm Redar Velrrus. Prosstang Industries Security. Where's-"

"I'm First Mate Kenna Luxara," the female said, seeming to appraise Ferrigo with a gaze that was similar to the one that Relia Vu'udrel...Kels'mek...had cast on him on the afternoon that he joined the knowing. The young Mandalorian felt stirrings in his shining red beskar'gam and caught a deep breath, covering his mouth with his left fist.

"Great," Ferrigo tried to feign disinterest, while conveying that he indeed had repair needs. "Is there a tool shop in this building?"

Luxara exchanged a long, perhaps longing stare with Ferrigo. He pursed his lips, as if he was thirsty. She lightly traced the inside of her lips with her tongue.

Neelis spoke up. "Maybe I can go find out for you. I'm bored out of my mind playing charades with Luxara." The blue-skinned male closed the heavy door behind him, with a clank of the iron latch activating.

Ferrigo and Kenna Luxara, so close to one another and like polar opposite forces, were drawn together rapidly. The hunger of their first kiss stunned the both of them, their hands wandered each other's coverings in search of breaches or opportunities to fuel their weakness.

Ferrigo set his helmet down on the table behind the pink-skinned woman, and pressed her into the table. She sighed and held his sides firmly. "You taste and smell like the sweetest fruit." Ferrigo gasped.

Kenna Luxara's dark blue eyes gazed up into his own eyes. "You want more, and...."

Suddenly, the door latch clanked. Prosstang quickly shifted aside, picking up his helmet with a swift movement. Kenna Luxara took a quiet deep breath and stood up straight.

"Well, Velrrus, the best I  can do is this bag of goodies," Neelis said sheepishly. "It will have to do. Plenty of batteries and basic fuses. And the tools needed for minor fixes."

"Thanks, Neelis."

Ferrigo glanced at the intoxicating Ms. Luxara and then set himself to task to inspect and repair his helmet. The fuses had been blown, batteries drained. Ferrigo replaced the parts as needed, knowing that a more proper repair would be warranted on the return trip to Mandalore. He pursed his lips again and took a deep breath before setting his helmet back on. He activated the seal.

"Thank you. Thank you both." the young Mandalorian's helmet vocal emitter was clear.

"Goodbye Redar Velrrus." Kenna Luxara said with less excitement than her greeting.

Ferrigo walked back to his position in the conference room, and looking at Melaa and Brelek Kuporr, he tapped the right side of his helmet. Each of the others nodded to him.

After another hour, during which the InterGalactic Banking Clan representatives responded to questions about their interests in the dealings on Makem Te, the Caliph named Wuckem called for an end to the meeting. The remaining Caliphs agreed to adjourn for the evening.

"We're done for the night," Ferrigo said over the secured channel for the Prosstang Industries Security Team. "Prepare for exit."

Preniik Su'uleezs purred audibly. "Street secure. Ready for transit."

A Wild Spirited Ride
The Swokes Swokes guards opened the large doors to the street, and it seemed eerily quiet after listening to a few hours of varied and sometimes heated conversation, oration and debate in various tongues. One of the Swokes Swokes, named Mokshok, waddled to Ferrigo's side. A CZ-series communications droid caught up with them as the group began to head back toward the spaceport.

With a series of clicks of his tongue, followed by a squint or blink of each of his eyes, Ferrigo clucked loudly into his vocal receiver. "CLOSE ARRAY. TALK," he turned his head, and viewed a green holo screen of scrolling Mando'a text to the left of his view, and the outline of each being that moved aside from the Prosstang team within one hundred meters of Ferrigo's visual focus was briefly highlighted in yellow-orange with accompanying soft chimes and information specific to that being as a potential threat replaced the scrolling green holo text. A few Swokes Swokes across the street facing each other without any movement, aside from their gruesome talking grins, issued brief outlines of green-yellow and faint, low-register blip tones.

"Where is the transit?" Ferrigo asked aloud. "We're gonna be late for dinner."

A purr issued, and the Swokes Swokes next to Ferrigo seemed to shift its stance back slightly. Su'uleezs raised his voice. "On its way."

Hokan and Anjii Dawal were across the street, and paced slowly. Their attention seemed to roam behind Ferrigo and Su'uleezs to their counterparts near the conference hall entrance. "What's for dinner, Velrrus?" Dawal asked, one hand resting on her hip after she had tapped some buttons on each of her gauntlets.

Ferrigo turned and relayed the question to Mokshok and his protocol droid. The answer was a little startling. After taking a breath, Ferrigo sighed and spread his hands in resignation with each listed menu item, particularly the last. "Pickled gorgs to start. A salad of some sort. And...a recently-deceased Swokes Swokes criminal." As protests packed with profanities erupted instantaneously over the private comm channel, Su'uleezs growled loudly and Ferrigo continued with feigned optimism during a lull. "Mind you, they're also serving a really potent drink called scentwine to wash the osik down with." The protest on the team's channel resumed.

Each of the two Swokes Swokes guards tapped their staff on the slate bridge to the conference hall doors, activating surges of blue-purple electricity as they brushed Su'uleezs, Ferrigo and Mokshok aside. A series, or a collection of loud roars and seething hisses echoed in the valley of iron-work buildings from what seemed like the west. Ferrigo was reminded of the vocal pattern of Xossk, the Trandoshan bounty hunter. He clicked his tongue once. "Native reptilian species. Info."

Mokshok, and then his protocol droid turned toward Ferrigo, and the Swokes Swokes growled. The protocol droid articulated shortly after with hand gestures. "Schinga shiku. They are native riding serpents domesticated by the Swokes Swokes." Ferrigo nodded silently.

Four large serpents, each slightly different in color of skin and eyes, slithered along the cobbled pavement, one pair side-by-side ahead of the other pair. Their angular and pointed mouths were raised up, teeth large and sharp as they sinuously wiggled their approaches. The serpents roared repeatedly and began snapping toward the buildings and each other. The Swokes Swokes riders that seemed to have the most challenging mounts applied electric staffs to the necks of their schinga shikou. The rider in front nearest Su'uleezs and Ferrigo yelped and dropped his staff and slid from his saddle as his light purple-skinned schinga recoiled with a loud, trilling roar. The Swokes Swokes rider's desperate pleas to his mount went unheard, and once shuddered loose from his saddle, he dropped heavily onto the street.

Mokshok pointed at the schinga and seemed to be yelling as he retreated toward the closed doors of the conference hall. The now-riderless schinga turned its head around toward its rear, and Ferrigo spotted Ghez Hokan drawing one of his sidearms and tucking into a left side roll toward the center of the street. Instantly, a packet of green energy zipped into Anjii Dawal's solar plexus armor plate and she fully flew into the iron wall behind her at an angle before stumbling onto her elbows and knees, immobile. Her pained voice mumbled obscenities over the comm channel before fading. Hokan, emerging from his roll, released two quick yellow laser bolts with a twinned-grip of his pistol. A pink schinga speared forward and barely missed snapping into Hokan, who shifted back to his right and onto one knee.

The purple schinga moved forward, and as the two Swokes Swokes guards attacked it with their crackling electric staffs, the beast turned toward them - and Su'uleezs and Ferrigo. The schinga roared in pain, and in a fell, leaning swoop and crush of its jaws snapped the head and shoulders from one of the guards. With a great clatter of beskar on slate, Su'uleezs jumped and rolled to the opposite side rail of the bridge to cover Mokshok, who had cowered tightly against the doors. The schinga recoiled and turned its head, its golden eye regarding Ferrigo. The remainder of the ravaged Swokes Swokes guard slipped from the lips of the schinga's swinging motion, and with a loud and splattering thud hit the dark stone bridge.

Ferrigo looked up at the schinga. He then noticed that the second Swokes Swokes guard was holding on to the schinga's barbed snout and seemed to be leaking blood. "KAD! JETSFULLVISOR!" Ferrigo looked straight up, and with a loud and reverberating burst of flame under him, he felt himself propelled upward until he turned his head and shoulders to regard the purple schinga. His body turned with the thrust of the jets guided by his helmet's field of vision to move directly toward the serpent. "CUT JETS!" with a clockwise twist of his hips on his sudden, powerless descent, his feet, laden utility belt, chest and helmet safely dropped past the snout of the growling beast. With great dexterity and strength, the young Mandalorian caught the ridge of the leathery hide-covered saddle shield with both hands, letting his hips thrust forward hard, driven by his heavy boots and the momentum of his fall.

The blood of the second guard poured and splattered all over young Prosstang's armor and helmet, as the beast attempted to turn its head to gaze upon its new rider. The wounded Swokes Swokes groaned and muttered unintelligibly at the schinga, holding onto the beast that had somehow gored him. Ferrigo dug the vibroblade extended from his right gauntlet between two of the schinga's scales. The beast grunted and snorted.

''Be calm. Lunasa sends her greetings to Klsvrrrngg.''

The purple schinga lowered and issued a rolling series of chirps, and gusting exhales of steamy breath. Ferrigo having gripped the saddle handle with his quickly shifting left hand, withdrew his right gauntlet from the scales, then moved his hand over the center of the schinga's head. The vibroblade retracted as he opened his hand palm down between the serpent's angular, raised eyebrows. Young Prosstang wondered momentarily if he had gone insane.

This consideration disappeared with the sudden shake and burst of forward movement as the schinga slithered into the center of the street and raced straight ahead, and then through town, with seeming purpose. Barely heard were the guttural cries of Swokes Swokes as the purple serpent's rapidly undulating form occasionally pushed, whipped or battered pedestrians and stationary vehicles or vending stalls along the streets it traversed as if by memory.

''Grandmother. ''

Ferrigo issued a series of commands into the vocal receiver of his helmet. To the left side of his HUD, he saw a map of Thousand Thousand with a moving green dot, representing his current position. A few brief words later, and the map in young Prosstang's HUD was replaced by a gallery of colorful holoimages of an expansive landscape of desolation, ornament and solitude. He clicked his tongue a few times. "Secure comm Prosstang team. Boost transmission power." The schinga continued moving rapidly, but comfortably with Ferrigo in its saddle.

"Velrrus reporting. A wild ride. Heading for the Tract of Makem Te," Ferrigo had to catch his breath every other second to adjust to the impact of the serpent's movements over the irregular pavement.

A feline growl. "Copy that," Preniik Su'uleezs allowed himself a sigh. "Dawal is being tended to at one of the cruisers by our own medical droids-"

Brelek Kuporr's voice broke in. "And me. Those Swokesies wanted to peel her stomach open!"

"K'uur, jag'ika." Cool as ever, Ghez Hokan. "Well, Velrrus, there's some cleanup to do here. One of the riders, behind the serpent you took off on, was a terrorist. He got Dawal. I put him out. For now. These Swokes Swokes regenerate tissue."

"You'd better get back to town soon for dinner," Melaa Kuporr sounded hungry.

Ferrigo chuckled. "Haili cetare, ner vode. My companion has other ideas about where I'm going. One of you should make your way to the Tract. We can talk more later."

"I'll be there soon as I can, Velrrus," Su'uleezs said gruffly.

"You can have my dinner, too, Su'uleezs," Ferrigo smiled to himself.

The Tract of Makem Te: The Legend of Snake Velrrus is Born
A rather large Swokes Swokes wearing a severe outfit of ring-fastened leather straps covering the minimum requirements of what Ferrigo might have considered appropriate for any species blocked continued travel on the path between two large ornamental columns that led into the most astoundingly sized cemetary landscape Ferrigo had ever seen.

Ferrigo stroked the scales of the purple schinga. Klsvrrrngg. ''Where am I to go? ''

The Swokes Swokes stood his ground and made a threatening display of his purpose, as he slowly smacked his fist into his open hand and ground slowly. Ferrigo gently dismounted the schinga, and placed his left hand flat against its scales. He then waved his right hand with a tickling motion of his fingers in a gentle arc, as if playing a miniature nalargon. "My ancestors wish to convey a message through me to a dear departed resident of the Tract."

What are you saying?! Ferrigo wondered to himself.

Nonetheless, the Swokes Swokes did not seem to yield, but was rather confused, shifting and now pacing from side to side between the columns, seeming to mutter to himself. Ferrigo soon noticed the partially-obscured form of another Swokes Swokes that laid lifeless on the ground behind the column to his left. The slumped Swokes Swokes form seemed to have on a red sash and blue short pants, similar to those of the guides shown in the information.

Klsvrrrngg, I must go find my Grandmother's friend.

Ferrigo clicked his tongue, issued a few commands unheard outside of his helmet, and took four generous side-steps. "JETSFULLVISOR," with a loud foosh and burst of flame, Ferrigo was lifted quickly above the columns as his jetpack responded to the attention of his visor. He barely heard the roar of the serpent and shriek of the rotund Swokes Swokes goon as he easily lowered his chin and leveled his flight path parallel to the ground fifty meters up, looking toward the area of the Tract that seemed to call to his intuition. "JETSPOSTLOCK," the young Mandalorian blinked hard as he looked at the area in the forward distance to create a destination lock in his HUD, then looked down and to the rear, keeping his arms and hands to his sides.

The purple schinga raced along the curving multi-faceted tile path, a cloud of dust and tattered prayer ribbons rising in its wake as it seemed to track along with Ferrigo's flight. He also noticed two, and then three speeders barely floating above the funerary monuments, converging on Klsvrrrngg. Prosstang looked up to face his destination. "UNLOCKPOSTVISOR," he looked toward the racing schinga and began a forward descent to intercept the serpent, as it continued to move at full speed along the path. He issued a number of 'Slow' commands as his outstretched grip reached the schinga's saddle shield. "JETSOFF!"

Ferrigo landed firmly, sending a slight jolt through the schinga as it pressed forward and curved to the right to follow a dirt trail lined with meager tufts of wildflowers The pursuit split, with two speeders maintaining on the tile path in the general forward direction, and three quickly jumping to coast over the colorful ribbon- and tassle-festooned monuments. A few small chunks of the stone monuments were sent flying with sudden contact by the speeders, occupied by Swokes Swokes goons similar in garb and appearance, if not size, to the one Ferrigo had met at the columnar entrance. Clouds of dust arose from the trail.

Holding to the saddle handle with his left hand, Ferrigo crouched slightly and held his right hand against the mount's scaly hide.

''Almost there, Klsvrrrngg. Thank you for the ride''.

Ferrigo quickly pulled up his center of gravity until his boots stood on the upper sides of the saddle. He pivoted his hips and left foot over toward the right side, then briefly lowered his rear before springing forward into a somersault. As his torso and legs turned into the side-twisting leap, he barked for his jets to engage on his visor's direction again. His HUD, in full combat display mode, beeped with each of the twelve bright red-highlighted targets he observed.

His registered pursuit included three speeder skiffs and their riders - seven Swokes Swokes of various sizes and skin tones, one exceptionally white-skinned, white-haired near-human of medium build and one very tall, pale and long-necked mammalian with four arms and a small head. The near-human, identified in Mando'a as "Arkan'yc," wore dark square goggles and a purple robe that flapped wildly with his speeder's movement. The slender-necked being, indentified as "Kerm'yc" wore a loose-fitting red body suit and opened his upper set of hands. The Swokes Swokes goons, wearing leather of ornate and severe appearance, rode two each with the near-human and the long-necked being, and in one last group of three bearing crackling and sparking electro-staffs.

The young Mandalorian's gauntlet lasers, set on their fastest rate with a glance and squint at a menu in the upper right side of his HUD, ripped repeatedly into the flabby flesh of four of the Swokes Swokes and took the left hand of the stunned Arkanian off at the wrist. Shrieks of agony were punctuated by a second salvo issued from Ferrigo's gauntlets as his flight path curled tightly behind the speeders as they raced away from him. The speeders at the flanks began to split into banking turns in opposite directions. Prosstang's shots, as he hovered rearward, grazed all three speeders.

The Quermian's shoulder blades were punctured, and his small head and torso whipped around as he yelled and spread his left hands open wide. The lower of the two left hands grasped for a holstered blaster pistol. Two Swokes Swokes collapsed and fell from their speeders as their heads burst open with shots into their once-glowering eyes. Their weapons tumbled, spun and clattered against marbled and solid stone monuments as they joined the inexorable descent of their former owners.

-Cease or be destroyed!

Ferrigo was momentarily startled to hear a voice in his mind, and in an instant, a large discharge of laser energy slammed into his beskar'gam chest plate, sending him backward and shoulder first into one of the stone monuments. The ornamental oval atop the monument yielded to Ferrigo's weight and velocity with a loud crack, metallic clang of beskar and a rush of crushed rock flying about. Ferrigo's jetpack skidded along the curved slope of the monument as he tucked his chin and knees toward his chest. His feet and mid-section continued to move over his head, and he landed on his feet amid several memorial urns. The sounds of whining repulsor engines echoed off the the convex and flat surfaces around him. He glanced ahead and to the left and began a sprint around the monuments toward a pair of warm electro-staffs and the corpulent corpses of the fallen Swokes Swokes. Young Prosstang picked up one of the staffs and tapped the butt end on the tile below. It crackled to life with jagged deep blue arcs of electricity.

Ferrigo gasped and transmitted on the Prosstang Security private channel. "I could use some help here. We have an angry Arkanian and Quermian on Bantha class skiffs with a team of mean Swokesies desecrating The Tract. Lock on my position."

"On my way," Preniik Su'uleezs growled. "Bringing Hokan, Mokshok and his droid with me."

Ferrigo then recognized Hokan's voice. "Don't forget, these beasts regenerate."

"I don't plan on being around here long enough to watch that happen, Hokan." With a command into his vocal receiver, Ferrigo's jetpack launched him upward under one of the menacing group's hovering skiffs. He slammed the electrified tip of the staff into the keel of the skiff, piercing the hull with a shower of sparks. A sudden explosion threw Ferrigo into the ground, breaking his jetpack, and detaching it from his armor backplate. His disorientation and sudden breathless weariness did not mask his view of the spinning, smoking skiff, and its smoldering and flame-flickering repulsordrive engine. But he did not immediately feel his arms nor legs, and his vision clouded from the outside edges inward. The skiff began to tilt, its rear turning away and up from Ferrigo. His effort to rush emergency oxygen into his helmet failed, the seal of his helmet deflated. "Shuk'la..." he muttered as he concentrated hard to pull off his helmet and then let it go.

The young Mandalorian's eyes darted upward and flashed in fear for a moment as the snout of the purple schinga materialized out of nowhere over his chest. The snout pressed him into the tiles, pulling his left shoulder off the ground, rolling Ferrigo over before he was fully in the grip of the schinga.

''Fierfek! Klsvrrrngg!? What are you doing?!''

Ferrigo fell limp in the jiggling mouth of the schinga, and groaned weakly as the serpent quickly shifted and slithered on the tiles, away from the site of the carnage.

The sound of whining speeder engines wafted and wrapped around the memorial columns, as Ferrigo's consciousness faded in and out. He saw skiffs as they zipped above the tops of the memorials.

Mandalorians!

Young Prosstang heard the sounds of clashing metals of varying densities, short bursts of laser energy, and yells and growls from a melee as he and the schinga tralied away. Within a few minutes, Klsvrrrngg slowed as Ferrigo's blurred vision took in tall, dark towers above them. The purple schinga set Ferrigo down delicately on the uneven tiled floor in front of a large stone sarcophagus. Even from his back, the detailed carved reliefwork in the shapes of serpents was an impressive sight. The purple schinga snorted at Ferrigo and issued a low growl, turning back toward the entry.

Ferrigo groaned, as a pain clutched his chest. "Thank you, my friend."

The serpent flapped its tongue and trilled with seeming delight.

Suddenly the schinga roared as repeated laser blasts reverberated in the mausoleum. Ferrigo tried to turn his torso to his right to regard the schinga and its attackers. The young Mandalorian tapped buttons on each of his red gauntlets and turned to his side with great effort. "GEV!!" he screamed upward into the vaulted ceiling of the cathedral-like mausoleum with what air he had left in his lungs.

Silence, save for the echoing of his own voice. The smell of carbon and burnt flesh. The purple schinga slumped, the right side of its head thudding loudly on the tile floor. Ferrigo gathered his strength to stand, and staggered around the snout of the serpent, laying his gloved hands upon it.

"You alright?" Su'uleezs growled. "We saw that thing had you in mouth. Could not drop it while tangling these." The Togorian held the handgrip of his smoking blaster rifle in his right paw, and lifted the neck of the Quermian in the other.

After gazing at Ferrigo for nearly a quarter minute as the younger Mandalorian seemed to mindlessly caress the rough scales of the stilled beast, Ghez Hokan turned to regard the Swokes Swokes named Mokshok and his interpreter droid. They approached the lifeless schinga.

The droid spoke clearly after Mokshok had garbled some words that almost sounded to feature some basic. "My esteemed master, Mokshok the Wise, Ambassador of Makem Te, does tell that this is the resting place of the Dokes family. The Dokes have been known for many generations as among the most skilled of the Swokes Swokes people in domesticating schinga. This particular beast was known to have been offered generations ago to-"

Ferrigo interrupted. "Lunasa Ordo, a Mandalorian woman, wife to Sorgeren Ordo." Melaa Kuporr walked as quietly as she could around the snout of the beast to stand next to Ferrigo.

The interpreter droid staggered slightly in its turns between Prosstang and the Swokes Swokes ambassador, murmuring in the Swoken language. "The gracious Ambassador of Makem Te wishes to know how you came upon this knowledge, young sir."

"I feel it in my blood," Ferrigo smiled menacingly. "Ghez Hokan. Take the droid and captives outside and guard the entrance. Kuporr. Remove your helmet."

Hokan paused, turned to Su'uleezs and with a nod from the Togorian, bid the droid join him with a curling turn of his left hand as he walked toward the skiff parked just outside the door. Melaa Kuporr's beauty was heightened with the flitered rays of light from above after she removed her helmet and clipped it to her belt.

"I have your helmet on the skiff, Velrrus," Kuporr raised her hand to cup Ferrigo's shoulder. "Are you okay, ner vod?"

"I need you to close your eyes and clear your mind, Melaa," Ferrigo's voice softened. "And ask in silent prayer that the ancestors of our clan bless us with their presence. There is healing to be done here." The young Prosstang closed his own eyes for several seconds, feeling pressure in his ears of a muffled voice.

Melaa Kuporr gasped slightly and looked to Su'uleezs, who nodded in return.

Mokshok spoke in broken Basic, anchored in Swoken. "...rare schinga...Degga Dokes...payment..."

Ferrigo walked up to the Swokes Swokes and spoke in Swoken. "You speak to the grandson of Lunasa Ordo, friend of the Dokes family. Her grandson claims this serpent in honor of the promise of the parents of Degga Dokes. And stands to offer a message of healing from The Lady of The Serpent." Young Prosstang himself was uncertain of some of the words coming out of his mouth.

I'm insane.

The Swokes Swokes retreated and bowed his conical, barbed head generously. Turning to regard the purple schinga, and Melaa Kuporr between it and the Dokes sarcophagus, Ferrigo raised and spread his upturned hands wide as he approached the serpent. He spoke again in Swoken, though he understood the words in the thoughts that preceded. "The family Dokes long ago made acquaintance with travelers from Mandalore. The Ebrak family. Among these, Lunasa, the daughter of Beltor and Laasana Ebrak, was gifted with the ability to heal and comfort several Dokes during their stay here on Makem Te."

Mokshok gazed at Ferrigo as he circled the prone beast with his hands shifting to face palms down. Su'uleezs purred. Her back to Ferrigo and the serpent, Melaa Kuporr touched her hands to the lid of the sarcophagus.

Ferrigo continued, his eyes closed, voice raised. "The friendship between the young woman and the Dokes family endured for many years, though the visits were few and far between after she married and raised a family of her own. Yet, the connection of these people was great," the young Mandalorian removed his armor. "In recent years, the Dokes family has suffered misfortune. Lunasa, through her lineage, offers a healing of renewal. The Dokes shall regain their integrity, kindness and generosity along with great prosperity."

Su'uleezs growled slightly with seeming disapproval as Ferrigo carefully removed his boots and clothing. All of it, as the young Mandalorian continued with an invocation of spirits.

"Lunasa Ebrak come join us. Jelkiga Prosstang come join us," Ferrigo raised his hands high above his head. "Hod Ha'ran, God of Fortune, please hear our calls and join us, empowering our efforts. Filling us with the joy and power of your light. Fill this place. Bring this wonderful servant to fullness in doing your will."

Melaa Kuporr turned and gasped at the sight of the young, nude Mandalorian. Who seemed to be aglow. Without a word, Melaa removed her armor, boots and suit as the incantation spoken by Ferrigo continued. Soon, she joined in. Mokshok and Suleezs, fully-geared, gazed on in silence.

Ferrigo and Melaa turned to face one another and take each other's hands.

It was apparent to a mildly embarrassed Su'uleesz that both were biologically responsive.

The chanting continued for a few minutes as the young Mandalorians gazed at one another blankly. Then, with hands separating, Ferrigo moved his hips in an undulating pattern and raised his hands. Melaa placed her hands on young Prosstang's writhing hips and gasped into movement of her own as he called out in words not understood by any except Mokshok. "The life of good does require sacrifice, but the sacrifice has been made. And it is not for Klsvrrrngg to pay with his life. He shall be restored, and his offspring given as servants to the descendants of Lunasa Ebrak. The Will of Hod Ha'ran be done in accord with The Mighty Brrggaan, Lord Spirit of Schinga to honor the agreement made by The Lady of The Serpent and those who raise the serpents.

Melaa, seemingly entranced, grabbed with her left hand what she was able to hold as Ferrigo turned to the sarcophagus with his hands still raised high. He strutted purposefully to the tomb and incanted words of ancient Mando'a, and then placed his hands firmly on the lid. After half a minute, he raised his hands and turned to face Melaa again with a roll of his hips, and she adjusted her grip and then changed hands as he completed a turn to face the lifeless purple schinga.

Su'uleezs bowed his head slightly after exchanging a glance with Mokshok, who seemed mystified.

Carefully, Ferrigo danced sinuously toward the serpent, still held firmly by Melaa Kuporr as she tried to move with him. He raised his gaze and hands to the vaulted ceiling, gasped and yelled. "Be it the will that this most esteemed friend, child of your people, and servant of our people, our kind, our clan and family be restored to his glorious life!" Melaa gasped at these words, her gaze shaking upwards her body trembling along with the young male next to her. "Feel the power of light and love my dear Klsvrrrngg!! Be ALIVE!!!" Ferrigo laid his hands upon the schinga and a jolt of light and electricity burst from his hands as his palms touched the scales of the serpent. A wave of energy flowed from his whole body and sent all gathered, including himself and Melaa onto their backs.

The schinga snapped up from the floor with a grumbling roar. Ferrigo strained to lift his head from the floor. He became fully aware of his state of undress, as well as that of Melaa Kuporr. She glanced at Ferrigo and was startled. He reached to his right and grasped a piece of clothing to cover his midsection.

"That's mine!" Melaa was emphatic, covering her chest and midsection with forearms and hands.

Klsvrrrngg moved quickly toward the entrance. Ferrigo shouted as he tossed Melaa's suit toward her. "SOO!! Tell Hokan to blast off!!"

Su'uleezs nodded as he watched the purple schinga race toward the large, open doors. A burst of rockets sounded and a cloud of quickly dissipating smoke poured into the mausoleum. Ferrigo looked through the pile of clothing and armor to find his and Melaa's undergarments, and tossed hers over his shoulder in her direction as soon as his hand found them. In fairly short order, while exchanging periodic glances, Melaa Kuporr and Ferrigo were both dressed in their suits. The assisted each other with their armor.

After a short time, Su'uleezs joined Ferrigo and Melaa. "Schingo," he purred, crossing his arms against his chestplate.

"What?" Ferrigo was a little groggy. "That was a schinga, Su'uleezs. Schinga." What have I done?

"Your nickname, Redar," the voice of the Togorian was tinted with a grin. "Schingo. Redar Schingo Velrrus." Su'uleezs laughed loudly.

"Yeah, Snake. You could say that again," Melaa smiled with a chuckle.

Ferrigo smiled and casted a glance at Su'uleezs and then Melaa. "Schingo? Snake? I guess I can handle that as well as you did, Kuporr."

Kuporr punched his bicep beneath the shoulder plate as the three laughed.

Mokshok, now joined by the droid, ambled over to the trio. "My master is truly speechless," the CZ-series interpreter continued with a fluttering together of its digits. "What the young Mandalorian Redar Velrrus has done defies probability and consideration. The Dokes family will certainly hear of this, as will the Congress of Caliphs."

"I...don't really know what happened," Ferrigo said.

"Really?" Melaa Kuporr stared at him.

"Really. Do you?"

"Not really," Melaa looked over at Preniik Su'uleezs. "No."

Closing the Deal & The Fate of a Schinga
Two days after the terrorist attack and the experience in the Tract, Ferrigo stood at attention in the conference room. Most of the eyes, Swokes Swokes and otherwise, gazed at him from time to time. The Ambassador Mokshok had asked for an emblematic gold-lined purple serpent to be painted on his armor as an honor of distinction.

The story had circulated about his bond with the purple schinga known as Klsvrrrngg. That they had saved one another, and were tied to a long-ago relation that was somehow renewed at the Dokes Mausoleum. From time to time, the conference was interrupted by a visiting member of the Dokes family who had come to visit Redar Schingo Velrrus, the young Mandalorian who had prophesized the return of the Dokes to greatness. Under his buy'ce, Ferrigo smiled warmly. The Swokes Swokes had been warming to him, and he to them.

The Dokes family promised to send shipments of offspring from Klsvrrrngg to Prosstang Industries for the next twenty years. Schingo Velrrus would be welcome to stay with the Dokes on Makem Te whenever he pleased.

His father was able to secure a lucrative long-term contract for Prosstang Mining. During a break in one of the meetings, Q'osstigo Prosstang called aside his son.

"Velrrus," the elder Prosstang summoned his son by alias and a beckoning of his left hand.

"Yes, Baron Prosstang?" Ferrigo had gotten used to the charade that he was for all intents and purposes dead in the desert wastes outside Negat. "You have need for me, my Lord?"

More quietly, Q'osstigo continued. "I'm not sure what you did with that serpent, or with the Kuporr girl, but the impression you've left on the Swokes Swokes is...unfathomable. Some of my advisors are asking to speak with you about the matter."

Ferrigo looked around. "Tetch Kuporr? I don't think I did anything with her."

Q'osstigo nodded. "No, I know. Preniik Su'uleezs told me everything."

"What advisors then, Baron Prosstang?"

His father's voice lowered to a whisper. "More powerful advisors. Those who have helped make this opportunity possible."

"I don't want to talk about it. I really don't know what happened. What I do remember, frankly, is embarrassing."

"From what I've heard you have nothing to be ashamed of, son. And you have brought great honor upon the Clan Prosstang with your endowment of valor."

"As Redar Velrrus."

"In time, my son, in time. You will be able to reclaim your name. But for some purposes, it is wiser to continue as...what is it...Schingo Velrrus," his father grinned, patted his shoulder plate and walked away to join a group of Prosstang Mining executive managers. Maybe so.

The Team In Transit
The Shadow Shaker shuddered slightly. Prosstang Industries purchased the 'pre-owned' YT-2400 freighter specifically to shuttle the team, repair equiprment, and spare shipment containers to Dellalt. "I didn't expect you to be joining us, Schingo," Melaa Kuporr reclined behind the holochess table. Her last move had placed her much larger opponent in a bind. A slight growl could be heard from his helmet's voice emitter.

"It's Prosstang money. I'm in," Ferrigo shrugged and chuckled. "Even if it is just an installation repair job, in the Tion Clusterkriff. Good to see Su'uleezs is along for the ride. Who else?"

Melaa Kuporr glanced up, her blue eyes flashed at Ferrigo. "We need more? For a Clusterkriff?" she pulled her hair back behind her face and smiled as Preniik Su'uleezs made his next move. "Check, Soo. Sorry."

The Togorian growled, then chuckled. "Melaa cousin Brelek and Anjii Dawal quit few month ago. Get married. Settle down."

"Hokan wanted too much money," Melaa looked around the suite for a moment and then waved through some of the holochess figurines. "So, I convinced ner cyar'ika Baytt Gerrik to join the team." She smiled knowingly at Ferrigo.

Ferrigo shook his head slightly. "The lengths some guys will go to in order to be around their girlfriends."

Kuporr's smile grew wide. "Jealous, young Schingo?"

"Oh, I don't think so. I just don't want entanglements to get in the way of doing the job."

"You said it yourself, Schingo, it's just a repair job. There are even Prosstang Mandos stationed on Dellalt already," Kuporr gestured casually, laying her hand on top of her helmet.

Su'uleezs leaned back and stretched his considerable, furry arms and paws to rest across the back of the semi-circular bench seat. "Dellalt in Tion Cluster. Installation have twenty, maybe twenty-five. Not top notch talent."

"So Velrrus, what's a kid like you doing on a job like this?" Kuporr asked.

"Put your bucket on and I'll tell you," Ferrigo quipped.

Su'uleezs growled with laughter, tilting his helmeted head back. "He told you. Money, Kuporr. Prosstang money."

A Mandalorian wearing green painted shocktrooper armor plates, without his helmet entered the living suite. "What's that about money?"

"We're talking about making some, cyar'ika," Kuporr said sweetly. The man was somewhat plain, tall, and had strong facial features. Some mild pitting of his blotchy complexion suggested a rough life.

"Hey, I'm Baytt Gerrik," the man said, sitting next to Melaa. "I look forward to working with you guys."

The group worked their way through introductions. The presence of Gerrik seemed to cool the comeraderie between Kuporr and her clan kin for the rest of the journey, so Ferrigo found himself spending more time talking and playing holochess and cards with Preniik Su'uleezs, and with the pilot crew.

"Yessss," the Togorian hissed, after his third glass of Mandallian Narcolethe half-way through the journey. "I know Relia Vu'udrel. She tried make pet of me." Preniik scratched his claws gently and slowly across the top of his helmet that sat on the table. "She married Tyro Kels'mek. Good vod."

"Yeah." Ferrigo took another drink from his glass of Narcolethe.

Purring, Preniik arched an eyebrow as he regarded the younger Mandalorian. "She kill Q'osstigo Prosstang only son."

"The boss? The chieftain?"

"No. Ferrigo. Ferrigo Prosstang, the son. Only son," the Togorian absentmindedly stroked the fur under his chin until he noticed the young Mandalorian seemed to be focused intently on him. "And Kal Skirata. Tough Mandalorian. Almost tough as Jaster Mereel." Preniik growled in a low voice.

Ferrigo casually moved his hand across the holochess table in a wiping motion. "Did you know Relia...intimately?"

"What you getting at?" Su'uleezs grumbled, the turned his empty glass.

"Nothing."

"Get me 'nother Narcolethe then."

Ferrigo refilled the glass for Su'uleezs. "Nevermind."

The remainder of the journey to Dellalt passed through the Cronese Mandate and around the menacing nebula known as the Indrexu Spiral. Members of the group spent time alone cleaning and honing their weapons, jetpacks, suits, utility belts and reading their assignment briefing when on the ship.

When they dined together, the group shared a few tales. Melaa and Ferrigo both cast sharp glances at Preniik when he provided his account of the events on Makem Te, which had the desired efffect of keeping certain portions of that tale undisclosed.

During their infrequent stops for fuel and updated star chart data as they made their way through the Cronese Mandate, the group kept as low a profile as Mandalorians wearing red beskar'gam could manage.

Recounting the Mysteries of Makem Te
When the stop at Derellium was announced by the pilot, Ferrigo let Preniik Su'uleezs know that he had some private matters to discuss with him. Within half a standard hour, the young Prosstang sat with the Togorian, fully geared, but helmets off. In a private upstairs room of a rundown tapcaf, The Rusty Scabard of Cron, that overlooked the rain-deluged marketplace. They were three minutes walk from the spaceport bay where Shadow Shaker was being fueled and inspected for repairs.

"I've got half-an-hour, Captain Su'uleezs," Ferrigo said, taking a breath.

"Oh?" the Togorian allowed his eyebrows to raise, but Ferrigo sensed his interest was not full. "Come out with it."

Ferrigo appraised the large feline humanoid. Of the Clan Prosstang. "Captain, I have limited memory of what happened on Makem Te."

"Naked. You naked. Kuporr. Naked. With you," Su'uleezs stroked his chin with two of his paw pads. "You dance. Raise serpent. Back to life. Never my life I see like that."

Ferrigo was dumbfounded.

"Schingo, I not understand what happen," Su'uleezs finished his drink. "Magic. Force. Don't know."

Ferrigo sipped from his glass, and turned to Su'uleezs. "What about the gang that attacked me at the Tract of Makem Te? There were Swokes Swokes goons. An Arkanian. A Quermian."

Preniik Su'uleezs regarded Ferrigo for a moment. "Some gemstone. Schinga saddle pouch. Seek gemstone they said. Not find it. Schinga return to Dokes."

"I guess that makes sense," Ferrigo said, looking at his near empty glass and then out the transparisteel window at the forlorn, rain- and wind-buffeted spaceport district. "The Quermian. It communicated to me without words. Threatened me."

"Arkanian clone others. Arkanian created Quermian. Long ago. Quermian read mind. Many Quermian Jedi."

Ferrigo considered what Su'uleezs shared with him. "Were they Jedi?"

"Not sure. Not likely," the feline grumbled. "They died. Before find out more."

"How?!" Ferrigo gulped his drink and smacked the empty glass down on the counter as he turned to face Su'uleezs.

"In captivity," Su'uleezs growled.

"In captivity? They were tortured?" Ferrigo tossed a hand up in disbelief. "What did my...what did Aliit'alor Prosstang say about handling the prisoners?"

"He...said nothing. He was occupied. Republic ambassadors and officials."

Ferrigo rubbed his chin and his gaze shifted back to the window panel. "Great. I'm going to head to the Wayfarer's Hostel and get some down time in a real bunk." He got up from his seat, gently patted the large Togorian on the shoulder.

"Yessss," Su'uleezs hissed and purred. "See you on Shadow Shaker. Don't be late. Will comm you."

Wayfaring & Heading To Caluula
Ferrigo left the Rusty Scabard with his helmet on. His activated heads up display told him that several beings wandering or occupying spaces between the tapcaf and the hostel were mild threats. The rain belted him a few times during his five minute walk further from the spaceport, but his stride and poise were sure. For the first time in a while, he was genuinely excited. He reminded himself to remain calm and centered.

"Two hours," a voice growled over the comm channel in his helmet. "Last stop half-hour late."

Ferrigo thought to retort, but instead smiled and remained silent.

Shortly, he found himself wondrously relieved of any worries of Makem Te and the expectations of Captain Su'uleezs or Sergeant Kuporr. He collaboratively created many memories.

As the Shadow Shaker lifted off and exited the atmosphere of Derellium a little over half an hour late, the female co-pilot breathily announced that their next destination would be Caluula. Su'uleezs, helmet at side, gazed absently at Ferrigo. Melaa Kuporr and Baytt Gerrik played a well-contested holochess match, though Su'uleezs noted that Gerrik seemed distracted. The pilot, Jairg Mordenn, exited from the refresher and smiled wanly at Ferrigo as he passed.

Ferrigo finished reading some holonotes on his personal data pad, tapping a few buttons on his right gauntlet to begin a file transfer of information relating to Dellalt and the Prosstang Industries factory there.

The flight to Caluula was only notable for the turbulence, and the frequent breaks of the flight crew. The stress of navigating around the cusp of the Indrexu Spiral was apparent. Kuporr and Su'uleezs slept as much as they could, and Ferrigo was able to nap from time to time depending on the need for one of the crew to take a break from cockpit duty.

The Last Leg to Dellalt & The Team's Arrival
A voice came over the ship's intercomm. "This is Jairg," the pilot took a deep breath. "The Lesser Cronese Arm was a piece of cake. After our short stop at Caluula, we are now preparing to engage the hyperdrive for a jump along the Giblim Route. Next stop: Dellalt." Hours later, heavy rains washed over the the cockpit's transparasteel viewport as the freighter slowed and turned to enter the Prosstang Industries Factory at Dellalt. Sitting next to Jairg on the right, Ferrigo checked the control panel and engaged the landing gear after activating the repulsor engines. The pilot looked over to Ferrigo and nodded as the cycling systems display screen showed the cockpit had a few meters clearance from the entrance to the docking bay. The Shadow Shaker's idling primary engines thrummed powerfully until the freighter was under the cover of the dock.

"Well done, Velrrus," Tebayo Neelis, the male blue-skinned near-human Second Mate commented. His yellow facial tattoos suggested Pantoran origin, but Ferrigo learned over the last few months that Neelis had been married into the Clan Prosstang several years ago. Two of his tattoos were associated with the Family Us'ja. His wife Fe'ala was one of the Meteor-class pilots who died at Korda-6.

Ferrigo looked over his left shoulder and nodded. He glanced to see the co-pilot returning to the cockpit. She was a pale pink-skinned, blue-haired near human with deep blue eyes. And exceptionally beautiful. He remembered her from the conference break room at Thousand Thousand. Su'uleezs had said something about a Zeltron crew member at the start of the mission, and that Zeltros was a fabled world that some mercenaries nicknamed The Cradle of Love. He had hoped and imagined that this could be true earlier in the journey. After some words had been exchanged when the journey crossed into the Cronese Mandate, between the time Shadow Shaker landed on Chandaar for an overnight and the end of the journey, he and the Zeltron female had made a number of intimate and memorable contacts. He believed he had experienced her quarters as the Cradle of Love.

"You like my seat?" the Zeltron co-pilot asked him with a smile.

Ferrigo paused, scanning the data reading in the left side of his HUD and thinking on the night before on Derellium. He severely understated the truth. "I think I might. What's your name again?" he asked for effect, as he knew well the answer. He had uttered it many times with affection during the last few days of the journey.

"Kenna Luxara," she grinned. "Ever take that helmet off?"

Ferrigo considered the shapely pink-skinned woman in her purple flight suit.

"And then some," Melaa Kuporr chimed with a slight frown as she held the padded lining around the cockpit entrance. "Clothes seem like a fad to him."

"I'm Schingo Velrrus," Ferrigo raised his voice slightly, ignoring Melaa Kuporr's barb. Kenna Luxara returned her familiar gaze to him. "Thank you, Ms. Luxara for lending me your seat every now and then. Throughout this journey."

"Oh my." Melaa Kuporr groaned and rolled her eyes, her feet adjusted to leave the cockpit.

"You were welcome, Schingo." Luxara's eyes adjusted with a more wicked grin.

Ferrigo smiled under the cover of his helmet as he stood from the co-pilot's seat, checked the control panel then turned and nodded to Kenna and Melaa as he passed them. "That's true, Ms. Luxara," he continued carefully out of the cockpit to fetch the rest of his personal gear.

"Oh God." Kuporr groaned, again and turned to follow Ferrigo.

"We did say those things. Quite a bit, I suppose," Ferrigo said proudly with an unseen grin as they walked toward the living suite. "Oh my. Oh God. And, a few others."

"Ne'johaa!" Kuporr gave Ferrigo a short jab with her elbow, and when the two were out of earshot of the cockpit she frowned at him. "You two were like a couple of chittering vhe'viine. And she still smells funny, Redar."

"Sounds like someone isn't getting a lot of Gerrik's attention." Ferrigo noted wryly.

Kuporr stopped and turned to Ferrigo. "We have a job to do. Do you want me to kick you in the rugame, ner vod?"

Gerrik emerged from his cabin fully-equipped, helmet on. "Su'cuy gar ner vode," he touched Melaa's forearm as he passed her.

Jairg's voice crackled to life over the comm speakers. "We are engines down and locked in here at Prosstang Industries Dellalt. In just a few minutes Dellaltian customs will be speaking with First Mate Luxara about our shipment. We'll let you know via comm link when the gear is ready to go."

Preniik Su'uleezs purred as he passed the Ferrigo and Melaa, who had returned to the living suite. Then Preniik growled. "Might seem easy job. No such thing. Be on guard. Velrrus. Gerrik. Protect repair team. Kuporr. Stay with First Mate Luxara and Shadow Shaker."

"And you, Soo?" Kuporr asked.

"I inspect factory security," the Togorian responded and turned to face the lowering deck ramp after pressing the activation button with his large right paw. "Report every quarter hour. Gerrik. Wait with Kuporr for gear clear inspection. Velrrus, come with me."

Ferrigo followed the Togorian. He admired the armor plates, helmet and jetpack of the much taller feline humanoid. Ferrigo clicked for private channel to Su'uleezs. "Soo?"

"Yes?" Preniik purred quizzically. "What is it...Prosstang?"

"Well...WHAT?" Ferrigo exclaimed.

"I know who you are, Ferrigo be Prosstang. I have worked for your father longer than you've been alive," Su'uleezs turned his helmet slightly to look over his shoulder as he led Ferrigo from a repulsorlift elevator platform into what appeared to be a stocking area for an assembly line.

Ferrigo was stunned, but continued to follow.

"This factory on Dellalt has been in operation for over thirteen hundred years. Originally for weapons only. Vibroblades, laser rifles, slug-throwers, blasters like the ones you carry, and replica dark-sabers," Su'uleezs turned about fully to face Ferrigo, who still stood in stunned silence. "Like the one you lost - or gifted."

Ferrigo started to speak. "But...I am Schingo..."

"To all others, yes. And to all others, I am functionally illiterate like the beast I appear to be," Su'uleezs ducked several crossing banks of pipes. "To these people, you are Schingo Velrrus. I am calling in a favor. It has been arranged by your father."

Ferrigo was speechless as Su'uleezs ducked and led him into an office. Three Mandalorians wearing shocktrooper undersuits with Prosstang Industries insignia were gathered around a desk. Su'uleezs growled softly. "Lieutenant Pross'kade."

"Ah, Captain Su'uleezs," the heavy set officer behind the desk called out. "And...?"

"Corporal Schingo Velrrus," Ferrigo finally spoke. "...Sir."

"You are here to conduct an inspection of our security, Captain?" the Lieutenant seemed slightly annoyed.

"Of course," the Togorian growled softly. "And dark-sabers. Three."

The Lieutenant turned to one of the security guards seated in front of him. He then nodded. The guard stood from her seat and walked past Su'uleezs and Ferrigo to a burled galek wooden cabinet. As she retrieved three long handled dark-sabers from the cabinet, laid out on a plush shiny fabric-lined tray, Lieutenant Pross'kade rose from his chair. "With the gratitude of the Aliit'alor Prosstang and Chief Executive Officer of Prosstang Industries himself, and from the hands of my family, the blademasters."

"Ori'vore," Su'uleezs and Prosstang said in unison.

"Corporal Velrrus, your family lineage has great importance in Clan Prosstang history," Pross'kade opened his hand in deference to Ferrigo. "I hear that you have only heightened that with a recent incident on Makem Te."

"I have inspection," Su'uleezs grunted. "Velrrus have sentry duty."

"Sentry duty?" the Lieutenant turned his head as Su'uleezs and Ferrigo respectfully nodded and bowed slightly on receiving their dark-sabers. Su'uleezs placed the additional dark-saber in his large thigh pouch. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"The inspection has begun." Su'uleezs concluded coldly. "Go Velrrus. Report as directed."

Ferrigo turned and left the office, past the functioning machinery and the occasional operator. A few Quarren, a few Sullustan and human workers. And a Muun supervisor. Upstairs near the freighter, he met with Sergeant Melaa Kuporr, First Mate Kenna Luxara and Sergeant Baytt Gerrik. Gerrik glanced at and shifted several locked reinforced-plastisteel crates set on a floating repulsorsled. A clothed, semi-aquatic humanoid, a Dellaltian, Ferrigo assumed, ambled away from the group with a curled flipper holding a holopad.

"Luxara," Gerrik gestured at the short stacks of crates. "You, uh, know which of these crates go back with the Shadow Shaker?"

Kuporr, helmet still clipped to her belt, turned to Ferrigo and showed him a scowl which only increased as the Zeltron female spoke.

The pink-skinned Zeltron adjusted her collar. "Of course, Sergeant Gerret."

"That's Gerrik," Baytt Gerrik corrected the First Mate. Melaa Kuporr could barely stifle a giggle.

"My humble apologies, Sergeant Gerrik." Luxara bit her lip and exuded charm and welcome. It was clear that Kuporr was not charmed, and Ferrigo wondered if the First Mate took her title too seriously.

Gerrik picked up his helmet from his belt and set it over his head. "Pretty quiet, kid."

"I guess First Mate Luxara knows no bounds. And apparently, neither do you," Ferrigo chuckled slightly, though tinted with some jealousy. He had thought Kenna Luxara was special - and that he was special to her too.

"What are you talking about, kid?"

Ferrigo turned and leaned his right hand on the handle of his blaster. "Not a kid, Gerrik. I took that Zeltron for a ride too. For a few nights. But it appears while I was filling in for her in the co-pilot seat, you were filling her in elsewhere."

"Awwwww. Kid Velrrus the snake master fell in love with a pinky?" the older Mandalorian's words made Ferrigo's skin crawl.

Ferrigo shifted his stance and with a few button taps on this right gauntlet, the repulsor sled hummed to life. He started walking toward the opening warehouse door on the western wall. "I feel truly sorry for Sergeant Kuporr."

"I think you have it all wrong, Velrrus. Keep your head up and eyes focused."

Ferrigo saw the two technicians emerge from a side door, wearing large raincoats and wide brimmed masked helmets. "You do the same."

The Communications Tower and the Rains of Dellalt
Ferrigo and Baytt Gerrik had their seals on tight, the clattering sound of the hard rain lessened in their audio receptors. The two Prosstang Industries security guards stood sentry a short distance from the technicians. The technicians fished for replacement panels and parts from the unlocked reinforced-plastisteel crate, and opened the hatch to climb up the ladder chute of the tower. The repulsorsled Ferrigo and Gerrik helped guide to the base of the tower floated with slight shifting from gusts of wind and rain.

"Velrrus. What's the deal with Su'uleezs?" Gerrik's voice seemed a little weary over the private comm channel.

Ferrigo thought for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean - what does he have against me?"

"Aside from the philandering until you're worn out half-an-hour before the job starts, I'm not seeing anything," Ferrigo checked his gauntlets, on which a few buttons blinked occasionally. "Keep your head on straight, Gerrik." A streak of forked lightning passed in the clouds overhead, and for a moment his beskar'gam shined bright red before fading to dark crimson in the dim light and heavy rain. A rolling, piercing and spreading peal of thunder roared all around. "And check your visual arrays."

"C'mon kid, I know what I need to do. I don't need you telling me, and I will knock your head in if your sermon continues." Ferrigo could see Gerrik checking his short blaster rifle, turned in toward the opposite side of the tower. The hulking square form of the Prosstang Industries factory stood somnolently in the distance with many rows of two-story dormitory buildings in between. Almost immediately to the left, or north, the platform structure on which the Prosstang Industries complex rested dropped off into rough waves. The platform also dropped off further to the south and the west by about a quarter of a kilometer.

Not too far to the south was the oddly shaped cantina that seemed adapted from a commissary. Grubby Pub. According to Su'uleezs, Dellalt, like the facility on the Makem Liva moon, had been a long-standing manufacturing location for the Clan Prosstang since the Prosstang Select Arms Manufacturing era and before.

Ferrigo sensed something that his HUD sensors were not telling him. They were being watched.

The Attack of Maladians
"Watch it Ger-!!" Ferrigo barely yelled these words when two dark human-like shapes landed their boots solidly on each of Baytt Gerrik's shoulders. The Mandalorian crumpled to the ground as the attackers appeared to ready to administer their killing blows.

They're on the roofs!

Ferrigo instinctively dove and spun counterclockwise toward the dormitory building corner to his left and felt his jetpack jarred from the weight of a solidly-landed kick from above. Staggering, but still on his feet, Ferrigo landed his back solidly against the dormitory wall with a loud metallic thud. Both of his PSAM-T'ad'ika Blaster Pistols, or Taddies, were drawn at shoulder level. His first two laser shots met and spread the masked heads of two of his black garbed-assailants away from their bodies.

He began to turn to his immediate left as a sharp horn sounded in his helmet and a shape hightlighted in red appeared in the left side of his HUD. Osik! A boot clashed against his gauntlet and then connected with his helmet, which sent him back against the wall again, and his left-handed Taddie flying across the lane of the mews.

"Kad!! "

The dark figure punched Ferrigo's helmet to no avail except a momentary pushing of the young Mandalorian's head toward the right as a rain-muffled schuckh accompanied the extension of his gauntlet-mounted vibroblades.

Prosstang's HUD showed him the vulnerable points of his enemy. With a turning of his torso to the left, the assailant round-house kicked him in the right side of his chestplate below his raised right elbow. Ferrigo grimaced and howled with pain, but the index and middle fingers of his gloved left hand depressed two buttons on his right gauntlet as his right-handed Taddie unleashed two shots. The torrent of lasers and an ion blast for extra measure disintegrated the head and neck of his opponent and scored a series of deep searing gashes in the durasteel wall panel of the dormitory building on the other side of the tower.

Ferrigo changed comm channels and spoke breathily, and scanned his HUD and the visor while he blinked. The rain poured down incessantly, and drifted in sprays and deluges with the gusting winds. He clicked and clucked his tongue to activate the various combat readiness features of his gear. "Velrrus here. We are under attack at the comm tower. Repeat. Under attack-"

A flash of lightning preceded a blast of heat in his lower back. Ferrigo's HUD and audio systems blinked with various dreadful warnings. Thunder boomed and echoed through the passages between the dorm buildings.

"De-mag!!" Ferrigo screamed as he recognized the hazard icon and that his entire HUD blinked red. Klaxon horns sounded in his helmet. He shook himself back to his feet, heard a loud clattering klung and turned to look at his smoking and smoldering jetpack as it laid on the ground. A halo of deep red surrounded the jetpack in his HUD display, momentarily broken by another series of lightning flashes. Three more black-garbed figures chased after him. In time with the thunder, the pursuer at the rear was torn in half with the explosion of Ferrigo's jetpack, the other two slammed into walls opposite from one another. Following lively flashes of light, another rumble of thunder shook the platform.

As he turned left around a corner, two more black figures dropped to the ground. Their eyes, or goggles, glowed yellow-orange. A salvo of their blaster fire rocked Ferrigo backward a step-and-a half as shots landed squarely against his armored chestplates.

''They'll go for the arms next! Fierfek!''

Ferrigo pointed his Taddie at the attacker on his left, and his left gauntlet toward the right side attacker. He heard and saw two pursuers in an inset image on the upper right of his HUD, soon joined by two more black figures dropping from rooftops.

"Thermal! Kama'bev!!" A quick whir and click near ground level were barely heard through the rain.

Ferrigo squeezed off shots with his Taddie, his right gauntlet laser, left gauntlet dart launcher, and four smaller darts from round geared micro-launchers mounted on the insides of his knees. His enemies landed several searing and painful laser shots as his shots all found their marks.

Four explosions behind him shredded the pursuing assailants, and the Taddie blast and saber dart set his facing attackers on their backs, the dart continued to pulse electricity throughout its host.

"Need some help out here! Man down! A dozen or more black assassins jumping from the dorm roofs! Area D-10!"

"Head back comm tower. Protect comm team," Preniik Su'uleezs growled evenly. "Will meet there."

''Fierfek. The comm repair team.'' Ferrigo activated his right gauntlet laser for stun, reset his HUD for surveillance at heightened alert level and began to jog past the fallen enemies. Before reaching each cluster, he hit them with a radiating stun blast. Just to be sure, you kriffers.

He noticed that some dormitories had opened their doors. He issued an amplified warning that the streets were unsafe until further notice. "Keep all doors and windows buttoned up until the all clear is issued." Ferrigo quickly rotated his left wrist and forearm until he heard and felt another saber dart loaded into his gauntlet launcher.

Ferrigo had a brief vision of a schinga swaying and turning with a quick movement, then coiling for a leap. He instantaneously spun around on his left foot, away from forward progress with the comm tower in sight, shifted to his left as a laser bolt sprayed water and light where he had stood a moment before. From a quick and tight crouch he sprung upward, much higher than he would have otherwise thought reasonable.

In a moment, he saw two more black figures atop the buildings on either side of the lane below, each armed with blaster rifles. Both were surprised as Ferrigo landed on the second story roof within five steps of one of the attackers. Ferrigo suddenly felt weak, immediately after he heard a zip and felt a concussion against his left side under his arm. He glanced to the far right of his HUD. Critical blood loss.

He yelled and let loose with a dart for the nearest attacker, who sent a laser blast just under the visor of Ferrigo's helmet, which pushed it down momentarily. Young Prosstang's right-hand Taddie released a simultaneous ion and laser shot combo at the attacker who was brandishing Ferrigo's other Taddie, unable to use it. "Pers...son...al...ized..."

Ferrigo reached his left hand down at his left hip and grasped firmly to unhook the handle of his new dark saber from his utility belt. He then collapsed a moment before he heard Kuporr and Su'uleezs on the comm channel.

Within moments the black figure was standing over Ferrigo, blaster rifle poised at the center of his visor. Young Prosstang swiftly curled his lower back, placing both of his boots into the groin of the attacker. Another searing pain raced through Ferrigo. His right arm dropped, and so did his Taddie. It hit the roof as he completed his backward rolling kick. ''Fight! Live!''

"RRRRRrAAAAaAAHHHHhhhhrrrrr!!!" Su'uleezs landed heavily on his feet, and cleaved the attacker's rifle with his drawn and whistling dark-saber blade.

Ferrigo abruptly twitched his left forearm counterclockwise, and loaded another dart. In the same motion, he transferred the dark-saber to his left hand and then raised it to chest level. Strength!

A large fork of lightning stretched across the sky, and the thunder seemed to impress everything to shudder and bow.

Ferrigo saw the rain as it washed Melaa Kuporr's shining red armor, illuminated by the shimmering lightning. She performed a tragic dance with the hapless assassin who could not master Ferrigo's secured left-hand blaster pistol. As the assassin on the other building dropped the weapon, Ferrigo willed the pistol to return. With the heavy rain, lightning and thunder, he was nonetheless amazed to see the pistol seemed to jolt away from Melaa's challenger and floated downward to the lane below with a clatter.

Ferrigo's attention was drawn back to his left. The assassin had just kicked Su'uleezs to the outside of his left knee, improbably knocking the large Togorian to the roof heavily on his left arm and side. A whistling swipe of Soo's dark-saber missed the attacker completely and raised a grunting chirp and sparks from the durasteel roof panel on contact.

After the assassin stood up, he quickly kicked the saber out of Su'uleezs' large paw. The assassin then yelled as he removed a small pistol with his right hand from a side pocket. "It is finished!"

Meanwhile, Kuporr received a solid kick to her shoulder, which sent her downward. A trick she had practiced on occasion in training was well-executed. She continued with her roll, placed both hands on the flat roof facing away from her attacker, and whipped the heel of her trailing boot into his lower region. A flash of lightning showed Kuporr with her own yellow-glowing dark-saber in hand, and a peal of thunder followed immediately. A moment later, with a whirlwind of subdued yellow light in motion, her challenger was without arms.

Ferrigo's swift and silent approach, through the pain and the weather, ended with an upward windmill sweep of his left arm. "So it is!"

The motion of his flickering purple-glow dark-saber cleanly removed the attacker's right arm above the bicep with a noisy slap of flesh and crack of bone. As Ferrigo's hips rotated through his motion, he drove the blade of his dark-saber through the back of the left knee of the assassin until resistance from the kneecap was overcome. A low and loud screaming moan issued through the heavy, sheetfalls of rain and reverberating booms of thunder.

Breathless, Ferrigo groaned and placed his knee on the back of the left bicep of the prone assassin that laid before him and Su'uleezs. The weather drove heavily into them.

"Schingo. We must take. Them back. Questions. To be answered."

"Yes, Soo." Ferrigo stood up, weakly.

"Soo," Kuporr sounded a bit upbeat rather than beat up. "How are you doin?"

"Fine. My knee hurt some. I am. Okay." Su'uleezs growled in a low tone.

"How about you, Schingo?"

"Aside from major blood loss and not knowing how many more holes I've got," Ferrigo moaned. "I feel like a virgin on Zeltros."

"You're not a virgin anymore, kid," Kuporr sighed.

"I think I'd like to die there, Kuporr. Can you get me there soon?" he said with a deepening softness in his voice. "I...gotta...go..." Ferrigo did not sense that his body had given out and collapsed on the roof.

-No!-

An image of an amazingly beautiful young human female with long blonde hair and stunning green eyes flashed in Ferrigo's mind. Veshok and galek trees and verdant underbrush surrounded her in the background. And small children played.

-You must survive-

-Our children await their father's return-

''-The future of Manda'yaim depends on you. On us-''

''What?! I'm sixteen years old! Have I just opened the door to manda?! I'm talking to a goddess! ''

"Soo! He's bleeding too much! We need to get him an evac to the nearest surgery center with bacta tanks!" Melaa Kuporr was kneeling above Ferrigo as he looked through his visor at the dark, tufted clouds. Occasionally lit by electricity in the sky that subsequently rumbled the roof beneath them.

He felt warmth throughout his body. "No more pain," Ferrigo croaked. "I am at peace with manda."

"I've hit you with every stim-shot I've got!" Kuporr's silhouette nervously reached to touch Ferrigo's various wounds, her glances shifted about. "K'oyacyi!"

Ferrigo's voice caught with a bubble of blood that he did his best to drink back down as he gripped her nearest wrist with his gloved left hand. "Ni ganar mar'eyce. Ori'meshla. Gar te'habir buy'ce be ner kovid...Ner bui'tsad. Gar burc'ya vaal burk'yc, gar burc'ya veman. Gar ad cuun prash be aliit."

"You can't die on me, Schingo!! K'oyacyi Schingo!! You can't kriffing leave me!!" Kuporr words were audibly wrapped in tears. She gently removed his helmet as he requested.

Ferrigo smiled and stammered as blood trickled from the left corner of his mouth. "The Goddess. Young. Blonde hair. Green eyes. She's gonna have. My kids, Kup..." Ferrigo squinted and coughed a sputum of blood that covered his smiling lips the rain pelted his face. "The future of Mandalore depends. I will...return with the Goddess...and our children. We will watch over you..."

Preniik Su'uleezs paced briskly, kneeling to Ferrigo's side while talking to Melaa Kuporr. "Gerrik and tech men take assassins. For questions. Meet them later. Get Velrrus to medical center now." Su'uleezs was visibly upset from his body language. "I pick you up my young friend. Kuporr. Patches?"

"He's dying, Pre. He wants to kriffin' go! Says the manda is callin' him home! FIERFEK!" Kuporr began to cry uncontrollably.

Su'uleezs roared. "Help me Kuporr!! Snap out of it! Pick him up!" he scared the slack out of Melaa's bodysuit. With help from a chastened Melaa Kuporr, the Togorian lifted Ferrigo into his arms until the young Mandalorian was firmly held into large feline humanoid's chest.

"Lift."

With a sudden shudder and jerk, Ferrigo and Su'uleezs were airborne, the rain seeming to lighten as they made their way to the main administration building of the Dellalt facility. On reaching the infirmary, a minute or so walk from the exterior entrance, Su'uleezs laid Ferrigo on a repulsorsled for medical patients. Instantaneously, the indicators and buttons along the sides of the sled lit up in alternating arrays at regular intervals accompanied by a soft, pulsing tone.

A human who wore a physician's tunic stood next to Su'uleezs and spoke into his wrist comm. "This is Doctor Heergul in the Emergency Wing. We need three nurses stat to the emergency room. Ramp up exploratory surgery and-" Doctor Heergul looked to the Togorian for a moment. "Four bacta tanks. First surgery patient Redar Velrrus..." the medical sled began to move and Ferrigo's vision and hearing faded.

-You must fight for our future, my Mand'alor-

The Recovery - Keldabe Medical Center
His eyes opened slowly. Apparently in a hospital bed, Ferrigo looked up to see the pink-skinned Kenna Luxara. She wore a dark purple flightsuit with goldenrod Prosstang Industries insignia. She held his hand.

"Schingo? My love?" Luxara squeezed his hand tightly.

He groaned and glanced around groggily. "Kenna. Where am I?"

"Keldabe, Mandalore. You're home, darling." The Zeltron's deep blue eyes seemed to gaze longingly at him.

Ferrigo lightly withdrew his hand from hers, and casted a faint, momentary glare at her.

"You do not believe in my love?" she seemed truly wounded by her words.

He paused and considered his words. "I now know more about you, or your culture. I don't want to judge, but my feelings for you...I just don't know. Maybe love doesn't matter."

"It does, Schingo. You do make me feel special. Very special," Luxara seemed a little breathless, as her eyes teared up. "I've never met a man of any species who could hold my attention the way you can. That pleases me as you do. So young, virile, and talented. And sincere."

"But it's not enough for a Zeltron female, Kenna," Ferrigo inhaled slowly. "You could never be satisfied with me alone." The young Mandalorian breathed out slowly and inhaled again. "At this time, I don't know that I'm ready to settle down. But I've enjoyed you and what pleasures you've shown me."

"My baby, when you get out of here, I want to show you more," her hands caressed his face, arms, chest and sides. "Would you like that, Schingo?"

"You should consider saving yourself for me, Kenna. You're gonna need the rest."

She smiled at him, and took hold of his wrists, bringing his hands to her as she moved closer to his left side. "Okay, my hyperdrive lover. You know it will be hard for me. Can I mess around a little?"

"You know I could never marry you, don't you?"

"Why should we? It's not the Zeltron way, my lover."

Ferrigo took a deep breath and balanced his thoughts. ''Sixteen going on seventeen. I have a future. What did I see?'' He smiled at Kenna. "Only a little. Still wish you would rest up, because you're gonna be sorry you didn't."

The Modesty of The Oyu'baat
Several days later, for a period of three days at the Oyu'baat Tapcaf Hotel, Ferrigo and Kenna exchanged loving, if not the sharing of love. Their shocking passion neared volatile brutality in moments, with the Zeltron's shrieks for mercy and release occasionally tearing through the raucous din of the tapcaf. For a rough and tumble place such as the Oyu'baat, at times even the slimy and sleazy smugglers, pirates, mercenaries, escorts and bounty hunters from various systems across the galaxy requested that staff intervene in the name of common decency.

On an early evening shift, one of the servers, a young and attractive blue-skinned Rutian Twi'lek female, went upstairs at the order of the bartender/hotelier and rapped on the room door. Shortly after Ferrigo opened the door and showed her everything that one might have been concerned about given the noise, she entered the room and joined in the celebration for an hour.

As the service staff was one set of hands down and drinks were not making the rounds as quickly to quench Summer thirsts, the eyes of patrons in the Oyu'baat glanced around for anything to discuss, argue, or complain about. Aside from the obvious.

A Togorian in partial armor with loose pants and a vest entered the Oyu'baat. "Anybody seen Schingo Velrrus? Tall, strapping, dark-haired Mando kid? Luxara, pink-skin woman. Blue hair?"

About twenty hands went up with fingers extended toward the staircase leading to the hotel rooms. Some laughter erupted as the shrieks and groaning yells of indeterminate agony or ecstasy resumed as the Togorian had paused to look around the tapcaf.

"Thanks," the Togorian sat down at the bar, purring with an amused grin. He ordered and nursed a few drinks before the bar loudly cheered the return of the Rutian Twi'lek server during a quiet period.

If her embarrassment was great, she said nothing about it, biting her lip and approaching the bar service area to look at a drink tray before picking it up and walking around the bar to serve the drinks. After twenty minutes, the noise upstairs resumed and the bar began to chant repeatedly. "Teena! Teena! Teena! Schingo! Schingo! Lux'ika! Lux'ika!"

Teena covered her face and laughed, biting her hand lightly as her lekku twitched. Preniik Su'uleezs grinned until a canine tooth was visible, shaking his head slightly. "What room my friend in?"

"He is your friend?" the Twil'lek asked breathily.

"Yes. People here worried 'bout you. Gambled on your return." Su'uleezs allowed his tail to flourish and twitch.

"I want to see him again. Please give him my number. I am Teena." The Twi'lek handed him a data chip, which he gently tucked into a generously-sized pant pocket. "He is in room number seven. And you are?"

"I am sure he be coming back."

A Moment's Rest
At The Wicked Smile, a popular beach resort restaurant, Preniik Su'uleezs, Melaa and Brelek Kuporr sat at a table with Ferrigo and Kenna Luxara, the pink-skinned Zeltron. All wore stylish solar-reflective lensed glasses or goggles. Ferrigo and Kenna held hands and kissed often, and occasionally made verbally clear their affection for one another.

To most sentients, the warm weather of the southern hemisphere of Zeltros called for thin and loose fabrics, which the visiting Mandalorians wore; though Su'uleezs and Ferrigo went shirtless. The other option, often chosen by natives to enlighten and delight ogling tourists, was stunningly featured by the voluptuous Ms. Luxara. She wore an amazingly thin one piece black stretchasilk strap bikini that very nearly did not cover any of its design parameters more than at suggested points. Melaa Kuporr frequently nudged her gawking brother in the side to look at the ocean in the other direction.

"It's been three months since Dellalt," Melaa said non-plussed, surrounded by beauty and pleasure everywhere. Her own brown hair was cut with flat bangs, a long strand of hair three-fingers wide curled in at their ends at either side of her neck. The sides and rear of her hair was shaved short just above and around the ears. She turned to Ferrigo, her hazel eyes showing slight annoyance. "When are you going to be ready to work again, Redar?"

"Yeah," Ferrigo, his hair shaggy and face sporting a shadow of whiskers, stretched and scratched distractedly below his navel. "I think I may never leave this place Melaa," he smiled, and Kenna took the right side of his face in her hand, leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"Where is Anjii?" Brelek Kuporr said with concern.

"Ooohhh," Preniik purred. "Here she come. Brace yourself."

Melaa gaped at her blue-eyed brunette sister-in-law as she emerged from behind a bank of landscaped shrubs. "Fierfek, dala! What the kriff is all THAT all about?!" she tried to stifle a guffaw of surprise.

Even Ferrigo's eyes were a bit startled at the sight of light-skinned Anjii Dawal-Kuporr's new swimsuit, shortened blonde-streaked brown hair-do that accentuated the features of her attractive round face, and the apparent sculpted trail of suggested biological maturity below her navel that the suit accentuated in its revealing design. Also not lost to sight was a rather intricate tattoo between Anjii's stomach and chest. Kenna Luxara nudged Ferrigo slightly to shake him out of his boggled state, then just got up from her chair and sat on Ferrigo's lap with a pronounced settling motion.

Brelek Kuporr appeared unsure whether he should jump for his wife to cover her or fall backward in his chair. "Anjii!! What would Hod Ha'ran do?!" The group howled with laughter, slapping the duraglaze table surface, Preniik tapping his claws on the table with a rolling beat.

Anjii seemed chastened and pursed her lips tightly before responding. "I did this for YOU, Brelek Kuporr, ner kar'ta. It matches your tattoo. It got this over the spot where I was shot on Makem Te. The day I fell in love with you. You don't like it?"

"Baby, no, I love it. The tattoo. The topiary. Come here, Anjii Kuporr," Brelek smiled and chuckled a little as his wife sat on his lap.

"Topiary?" Anjii wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed him repeatedly.

The whole restaurant seemed oblivious to food and beverage at times like these. And, despite his initial misgivings, Brelek Kuporr finally seemed settled down to enjoy his wife and their surroundings. Moments later, they excused themselves and left to go for a nap.

Melaa Kuporr shifted in her chair. "I'm going to go for a swim."

"We have business to discuss." Su'uleezs grumbled. "Even in Schingo's paradise."

Ferrigo chuckled. "Whatever you want to say, Soo, Kenna is on payroll." A small, dark purple serpent appeared over Ferrigo's right shoulder, its forked tongue repeatedly flicked quickly from its pointed snout and disappeared.

"Matey Luxara. Would you mind leaving us for half an hour?" the Togorian growled sweetly, as if that was possible. Preniik Su'uleezs flinched almost imperceptibly as he saw the small serpent curling over Ferrigo's shoulder. It was perhaps a half meter long.

Ferrigo groaned, and without looking reached his right hand up casually, offering the serpent a perch to stretch onto, which it did.

"Of course, and no problem, Soo," the Zeltron woman smiled and kissed Ferrigo firmly on the cheek as she lifted herself from his lap. He shifted and crossed the leg nearest Melaa and Su'uleezs over and placed both of his hands around his waistline. Kenna kissed him on the lips. "Schingo, I'll see you at my apartment in less than an hour? I'll have some friends for us to play with."

Ferrigo smiled and scratched his forming beard. "Lana and Hiata? The dark-purple and dark-red girls?"

Kenna smiled and nodded her head. "And a few other young ladies and gentlemen. We may get started without you. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Ken'ka." Ferrigo smiled, knowing the limits of his ideals of commitment on Zeltros. "Comm me if I need to pick up dessert." After a moment's pause, he teased her. "Do you want to take Klssvrrn with you? He doesn't bite."

"No, please, only one schinga, my love. You will be my main course," Luxara then turned slightly to Melaa. "Melaa, you are welcome to join us."

"Not interested," her eyes averted from Luxara, Kuporr scanned the sand-covered deck overlooking the gently roaring ocean surf.

With a flourishing flair of her hips, the practically nude from the rear Kenna Luxara turned and departed, watched every moment by her young Mandalorian lover. And the tiny schinga picai.

Su'uleezs growled in a low voice. "You think so much freedom, why flaunt it?"

"Exactly." Melaa Kuporr was exasperated and firm in her agreement, directed at Ferrigo.

"Look, I'm learning a lot here," Ferrigo spread his hands.

The Investigation of Dellalt and Reveals
Melaa shook her head and turned away. "Sure. You'd better pull your shebse together, Redar. You're just a kriffing corporal for the Prosstang Industries security team. Not a meshgeroya star."

Ferrigo pushed up his eyewear, and looked at Su'uleezs for a moment until the Togorian turned away to gaze at other sights. "Melaa. I am thankful you saved my life. At least twice."

"You sure could do better in showing your appreciation."

"Do you have feelings for me, Melaa Kuporr?" Ferrigo was pointed, turning his chair to face her.

She shook her head firmly. "Kad Ha'rangir no! You are nothing but a gifted di'kut!"

"Gifted?" Ferrigo paused. "I am the only son of your Aliit'alor Q'osstigo Prosstang." The small schinga slithered down Ferrigo's arm onto his chair.

"That kid's dead. Almost half a year ago," Melaa turned to him. "No," she considered him further. "You can't be."

"I am." Ferrigo looked again to Su'uleezs. "You have both been my guardian angels. I've needed to get away, though. And this place has been a wonderful distraction and shield for the last number of months. Giving you two some space to live your normal lives." The young Mandalorian chuckled.

"You're doing contact aerobics, Schingo," Melaa looked to Su'uleezs, who seemed distracted. "Soo. What is real here? Is he telling the truth?"

After a long silence, the sounds of play, surf and wind filling their ears, Su'uleezs purred. "He is Ferrigo Prosstang. A sleight of hand was crafted by some of our fellow verde to make many believe that he was dead. His father approved. His father wants him out of the mercenary trades."

"Your voice, Soo. What..." Melaa seemed floored.

Ferrigo also seemed taken off-guard by the Su'uleezs divulgence.

"I am not illiterate. Surprise." Su'uleezs cleared his throat. "I seem to be what I need to be. Like Ferrigo here. He needs to survive by deception. Until the person or persons that put a price on his head are found and properly handled. I play at being dumb in order to comfort those who hold higher position, though it doesn't matter to his father."

"Wait, my father doesn't want me doing mercenary work?"

"He wants you to run the business someday. And being dead will not allow him to hand you the reins."

Melaa Kuporr's blue eyes swam in the images casting about in the conversation.

"So, basically, I am on vacation, a sensual holiday at the discretion of my father?" Ferrigo sounded perturbed.

"You are almost as sharp as my hind claws, Schingo Velrrus." Preniik allowed himself a toothy grin. "You get more tail than a Togorian and yet you find a reason to complain. You are truly a Mando'ad. Welcome back, ner ad."

Ferrigo stewed quietly, setting his sun shades back to the bridge of his nose. Klssvrrn stretched and slid onto Ferrigo's lap.

Su'uleezs spread his paws apart as he changed the topic. "I called you here for a reason. Related to Schingo's situation. Also to the mysterious disappearance of Baytt Gerrik, the technicians, and the black clothed assassins."

"Thanks for this update. I never heard a thing all this time." Ferrigo said with slight impudence. "What ever happened to buddy Baytt?" he looked to Melaa. "You know that he tied the rack with Luxara, don't you?"

Melaa looked at Ferrigo plainly. "Let Soo finish."

"My inspection went deep. Long after you were transferred to Mandalore for recovery," Preniik took a sip of his cocktail. "There is nothing worse than an inside job. Nothing. But that is what appears to have happened."

"What do you mean?" Melaa and Ferrigo asked almost in unison.

"The communications issue may have been fabricated or caused under the radar by the very technicians who showed up later to fix the problem. On the radar." Su'uleezs stirred his drink gently, his paw rather outrageously outsizing the straw he had to use.

"How did you find this out?" Ferrigo scratched his young scruff and took a sip from his own drink straw. Melaa also took a sip from her drink.

"The equipment cases. Prepared by a Tagge Company, supposedly. Reputable firm. But the bindings, not their standard bindings. I verified this with Gulud Nak Bendess, the Muun who runs the factory floor at Dellalt."

"Okay. Still following you," Ferrigo motioned with his hand. "What else did Nak Bendesss have to say?"

"He never met the comm tower technicians. Nor did any other Prosstang Industries employees. Believe me when I say that Lieutenant Pross'kade got a poor review on inspection." Su'uleezs did not seem pleased to tell the tale. He glanced frequently, though casually, at the surrounding landscape and the many beautiful Zeltron males and females that seemed to parade the beach.

Melaa Kuporr, biting one of her fingernails, leaned forward slightly. "So, what happened?"

"Soo," Ferrigo raised his forehead slightly as a thought came into sharp focus. "The technicians. I never saw their faces. They wore helmets and heavy raincoats," he took a deep breath and rubbed his leg. "They were part of the assassin team. The two assassins who dropped on Gerrik. I thought they were about to finish him. They would have. But they didn't."

"That kriffing haarchak'la di'kut," Melaa seethed.

"Well said." Ferrigo and Preniik said in unison. The small schinga coiled itself comfortably on Ferrigo's lap and lazily tasted the air.

After a few moments of silence, Ferrigo glanced at Preniik. "Any signs of Gerrik? Is my father having him tracked?"

Su'uleezs slowly shook his head. "No signs of Gerrik. It's like he disappeared. Or never existed."

The sounds of the restaurant, the beach and the crashing surf framed a long silence.

Preniik stroked his chin thoughtfully. "For months I've tried to trace the odd bindings. Any reports of non-registered shuttles or speeders docked at Prosstang Industries Dellalt during the timeframe, or even up to a few weeks before. Nothing."

Ferrigo seemed deep in thought. "They knew we were coming. We...or...me."

"Who are they?" Preniik wondered as he picked up his glass and tilted the rest of the fruity concoction into his mouth. His long feline tongue licked his muzzle generously, and elicited a little laughter from Melaa and Ferrigo.

"Good question, Soo," Melaa pushed a breeze-blown strand of her hair away from her oval-shaped face and looked to Ferrigo. "Any ideas, Schingo?"

Ferrigo held up his hands for a moment. "I don't have anything other than...really, nothing." He checked his wrist chrono-comm. "I need to go. Kenna is expecting me." He picked up the small purple serpent from his lap, carefully placing it on his left forearm before rising from his seat. Its tongue slipped in and out of its toothy grin.

"Awwww, duty calls?" Melaa teased.

Preniik shook his head slowly as he grinned.

"You know you both are welcome to come. I won't touch either of you. At all. Neither will Klssvrrn." Ferrigo smiled.

A Long Goodnight Kiss for Kenna Luxara
Kenna gasped and pushed her damp, darkened pink face into the nearest pillow as Ferrigo collapsed with her, both of them flushed from exertion and soaked with perspiration and results. "I have never met anyone like you, Schingo Velrrus. You get me like nobody else ever has. You are a shining god to me."

Ferrigo blew out a serious exhale and inhaled deeply with both nostrils and mouth, and exhaled again, pulling her long blue hair away and above her head, kissing her exposed, wet neck. "I am a jealous god, Kenna Luxara. Ever since you told me last week about being pregnant with my baby, I can't stop thinking about how I want something you've said you'll never be able to give."

"What do you mean, Schingo?" Kenna said demurely.

"I want to marry you, Kenna. Be your husband. The one and only man you love. I know you won't give me that. You've said you can't promise to love only one man."

"You gave great pleasure to Hiata and Lana tonight, like you always do. And Pessia, Arom's friend. You had her really going, too. Everyone wanted a piece of you tonight. Doesn't that make you happy?"

Ferrigo took another deep breath. "I know I'm young, and maybe naive about some things. Still, Kenna, in my heart I don't love those girls. And you know I'm not into guys. I am sharing those girls with you because I want you to be happy. I would prefer to have nobody else. That is what I'm saying."

Kenna turned to lay on her back, and covered her chest with her forearm, until Ferrigo pulled up a sheet to cover them. The sheet clung to the both of them. "You know marriage is not our way, Schingo. We do come from two different lives and cultures. I love you more than anyone I've ever met. And you do make me very happy."

"Well, with a baby involved, it's not just a game for me. I want to be a great husband and lover, with you as my devoted wife and mother of my children." Ferrigo held her close to him, and kissed her. "But, I won't share you with anyone else. I can't have other men enjoying you and feel that we are in a committed relationship when you are all that I want, all that I see."

"I am sorry, and hope that you won't hate me for telling you this, Ferrigo."

Ferrigo's heart hung up a beat. "What is it? What?" It was only the second time in three months that he had heard his true name; twice today.

"In the beginning, it was a game for me. Your father assigned me to be part of the Prosstang Industries crew for the mission to Makem Te and on the Shadow Shaker in hopes that I might find you attractive, and that you might find me as attractive as he once did a few years ago-"

"Woah," Ferrigo slid quickly out of bed, pulling his shorts on in one motion, and picking up and putting on his short sleeve loose-fitting shirt in another few seconds before sliding into his sandals. "I'm done being played."

"Let me finish, darling!!" Luxara yelled. She struggled to get into her red silk robe to chase him. "It's not a game anymore!! I love you Ferrigo!!"

Ferrigo hit the button to close the door after he walked out, and never turned back as he made his way down several flights of stairs toward the boulevard. During his descent he heard Kenna Luxara's voice as it echoed down the stairwell from the top floor landing. She yelled that she loved him, wanted him to come back, and for him to be her husband. And that she did not have anything with his father. He cried freely as he continued his forward journey, and listened to her cries and pleading shrieks. As he neared the bottom of the stairwell, he heard a loud zip echo from upstairs and a few seconds later a loud thud outside the exit door, followed by a range of screams and yells.

He pulled the door open to see the beautiful face and blank gaze of his beloved Kenna Luxara looking directly at him, her dark blue hair, wet and matted black near the back of her skull. Her bent, broken and mostly nude body had flattened on the boulevard lane. Wisps of her dark blue hair caught in the breeze and covered her gazing blue eyes. Blood and other bodily contents spread in all directions, soaking into her flimsy red silk robe.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Ferrigo screamed and held his face in his hands. "KENNA!!!" he clutched his heart and stepped back against the exit door, and cried uncontrollably.

''My love! My love! Our baby! My love! My life! A blaster hole?! Hod Ha'ran!''

He checked the exit door handle. It was locked, and he kicked feebly at the door. He cried again as he looked at Kenna. Her chest was still slightly smoking where she had been opened. Exit wound. His mouth trembled.

''Baby!! What have I done?! My Kenna!!''

He screamed silently and looked all around for a familiar face or set of armor.

He moved over Kenna's disfigured body, kneellng. Ferrigo touched Kenna repeatedly, his tears dropping freely on her. He kissed her forehead. He muttered under his breath. "Goodbye my Love. I have destroyed you. I will never forgive myself." He felt a sudden surge of energy and stretched his bare hands out over her, feeling a wiggle in his shoulders emerging from his core, extending out to his head and fingertips. His eyes closed, and in his mind he clearly saw Klsvrrrngg sway, curl and draw back.

''-Be still child. I am with you- ''

''May you pass my love, my darling, to your ancestors' care and may your spirit find peace in the Force. May you, our child of love, Kenna's love, Ferrigo's love, dearest baby, find your way to the care of our ancestors. If you can hear me, Grandmother Lunasa, guide this soul. ''

-I shall guide the spirits of the Mistress be Prosstang and the innocent soul to their destinations, Ferrigo my child-

-''You see the designs. The half-brother. The traitor. The cold-blooded one''-

-''You have seen your destiny. Your path''-

Ferrigo breathed deeply as a crowd gathered around him and Kenna's body. The police arrived and took an aimless and compliant Ferrigo in for intensive questioning.

Within six hours, Ferrigo walked out of the police station with Preniik Su'uleezs and Melaa Kuporr. "Get me out of here, please." The next morning, after a sleepless night for Ferrigo, the trio headed to the spaceport and caught a flight to Mandalore. The HoloNews coverage was extensive, but neither of his identities were mentioned. During that flight, they did not talk much. In fact, Ferrigo cried alone most of the trip.

A Breaking of Ties
Ferrigo dropped the holopad and card key onto his father's desk.

"You're making a mistake, Ferrigo."

"Really?" Ferrigo rubbed his scruff-covered chin and cheeks and set both his hands on his waist. "Two words. Kenna. Luxara."

Q'osstigo Prosstang gaped at his son. "I wanted you to be happy, son."

"Tried out the goods first?! See if she could make me happy?!" Ferrigo was deeply bitter, and suddenly his face was a mask of unrestrained fury, his hands spread as if in preparation for a melee.

"NO!" his father stood from his chair and seethed in anger. But turned it inside.

"I LOVED HER!!! DEMAGOL'KA!!" Ferrigo raged in tears, his fists clenched and raised.

Q'osstigo inhaled deeply. Rappretto Prosstang, Q'osstigo's younger brother, entered the office at the Prosstang Palace. "Nephew, Brother, I come in peace..."

"GET OUT!!" Ferrigo yelled at his uncle. "NOW!!"

Rappretto Prosstang nodded politely, turned and left through the entrance. The door closed quietly.

HIs father raised his finger. "I NEVER touched her!" the elder Prosstang composed himself, took several deep breaths and slowly rounded his desk. "Kenna Luxara was an accomplished pilot. And intoxicatingly beautiful. I believed that you needed a companion. A mentor. A woman who could teach you everything...give you everything...a young man would need or want."

"You manipulated me."

"I did." Q'osstigo sighed, and touched his left hand on his desk. "I wanted you to know love from baser animal instincts. To protect you from making rash choices. Luxara received no orders from me, aside from keeping an eye on you. Nature took its course, son."

Ferrigo kept his hands at his waist and glared at his father. "You will never understand me. Or the heartbreak you have caused. Everyone you hired. To keep an eye on me."

"It was for your own good, Ferrigo. I love you, my son."

"I pity you, father. And I pity my mother," the younger Prosstang turned to leave.

"I am sorry, son."

"I am Redar Velrrus." Ferrigo left the Palace Office of the Aliit'alor Prosstang.

He walked solemnly between the Palace and the Prosstang Castle up the hill. Once at the Castle, he went to his private quarters and changed into his bright red beskar'gam. He had repaired and cleaned his gauntlets, helmet and jetpack during the previous few days.

Ferrigo checked his own personal comm datapad. Many messages. Codenames.

A message from Luxara. ''Schingo, I love you! Miss you! Gonna eat you up! You're gonna be a Daddy!! Your sweet Kenna. ''Ferrigo shook his head, seeing visions of his pink Zeltron lover. Making him happy in every way he had known. "I destroyed us." His lips tightened as he continued to check the messages.

Several messages from Preniik Su'uleezs. ''Know you have a lot on your plate, Schingo. Contact me. I have work for you.''

''No more games. I'm on my own.'' Ferrigo dropped the datapad and crushed it with his boot heel.

The Smuggler's Moon - A Career in Bounty Hunting Begins
If home is where the heart is, where do the heartless find a home?

Ferrigo had fully taken up his identity as Schingo Velrrus, a young Mandalorian bounty hunter who lived in various locations around Nar Shaddaa. By his third bounty, the lessons of Jaster Mereel, and even Montross, had resurfaced in his memory. He was increasingly efficient in setting traps, bombs, ruses and intricate plots to earn a reward and bring in the hard merchandise. Most of his jobs were short-term security, fugitive tracking or investigations of personal or property crimes.

At times, he thought of his father and mother. Voodoo. Luxara. And Grandmother Lunasa. He also thought of Preniik Su'uleezs, Kal Skirata, Baytt Gerrik, the one-handed Arkanian, the Quermian, the black-clad warriors on Dellalt and the Trandoshan Xossk.

He had ensured that his outward connections as Ferrigo Prosstang were at a minimum. He used a solution on his red beskar'gam to dissolve most of the painted areas down to a dull grey base. Save for a gold-trimmed purple serpent within a four-point red star near the top of his left chestplate, only a few accent pieces remained red. His gauntlets, boots, covers for knees, shoulders and elbows, and the trim around his helmet visor remained bright red.

He had spent half of a year on Nar Shaddaa and in other systems within Hutt Space. In his small flat in Nar Shaddaa's Mandalorian Sector, he read, listened, improved on his rudimentary Huttese, researched and recorded encoded notes. Most of his jobs were in the Corellian Sector, where he had a slightly larger apartment with a few temporary holding cages, and more interior and exterior security measures. Ferrigo regularly followed his jobs, even the smallest of jobs, with detailed reports. When he could, he also solicited and looked up background on his competition.

The Slag Pit
Having felt the eyes of a certain Klatooinian on him through the evening, among others, Ferrigo took a slow, deep breath with his back facing the rest of the cantina. Having already pressed a series of buttons on his right gauntlet, the tapped a few keys to transmit the coded bounty post from the kiosk at The Slag Pit into his dataport. The Pit was an infamous cantina in the secluded Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa. He entered his recently issued Hutt Cartel Recovery Agent Authentication Code into his right gauntlet to lock the bounty display screen.

''Job Code: B506X-013268. Wanted: DEAD. Merch: Varobb Dehb. Location: Nar Shaddaa likely. Descrip: Fugitive Klatooinian servant. Other: Known killer. Other 2: Armed and dangerous. Reward: 5000 GRC or equivalent. Client Number: 32-64203-TH-351. Location: Unknown. Special: Detailed finishing. ''

The job code, as Ferrigo learned during his first week, could be broken down. "B" for bounty, "5" for target risk of resistance on 5 scale, "06" on 20 scale for a logit regression model estimate of the target's ability to evade capture. The "X" marked the target for death or destruction. Straight up. Otherwise, the last spot of the 'Top Five' for a common job was usually an "A" for activate, "H" for capture and hold, "D" for deactivate, and "R" for retrieve and deliver. "Z" was reserved for contractor option, usually 'dead or alive'.

A special instruction at the end of a contract listing could be a wildcard. In the case of Varobb Dehb, the client wanted to witness the execution. Ferrigo considered adding to his fee for the show. He tapped in a response on the kiosk display screen that noted an expected upward fee adjustment of fifteen percent for the 'detailed finishing.'

''Crazy. All of this crazy. I am Schingo Velrrus. Snake. Bounty hunter. Tracker. And now...hired assassin.''

Ferrigo glanced at his HUD displays, and winked appropriately to access information about the beings in his immediate surroundings. Faint green-yellow light illuminated the edges of each patron in the inset image from center to upper right. He tapped buttons on his left gauntlet deftly, as if scratching his forearm. His vocal enunciator was silent, the chin and neck gasket of his helmet sealed.

''We have hard merchandise, delivered on the welcome mat, Schingo. This IS a five-oh-six.'' A loud ping sounded in Ferrigo's helmet. An olive-complectioned Klatooinian, haloed in red moved behind Ferrigo's back, drawing a pistol. "Mirshir," Ferrigo chirped into his vocal receptor as his body snapped into action.

With lightning reflexes, Ferrigo dropped his left shoulder and torso, spun his hips and swung his left heel hard counter-clockwise to sweep the feet from under the lumbering canine humanoid, knocking him to the floor. A bolt of green laser energy tore into the ceiling above the Mandalorian and his quarry.

The surprised face of Varobb Dehb gasped and gazed into the cold dark visor of a grey and red-trimmed Mandalorian shocktrooper. Without warning, Ferrigo tightened his grip on the wrist of the supine Klatooinian and held two fingers of his right hand on his left gauntlet. Blue arcs of electricity coursed through Varobb Dehb's jerking and flailing body. The bounty's roars were punctuated by his own electrified teeth clamping rhythmically on his now bleeding tongue.

Ferrigo let up on his gauntlet button after five counts. The Slag Pit began to rumble with activity and distress as the Mandalorian bounty hunter dragged the smoking, limp body of the fugitive toward the front door by the forearm. As a hue and cry rose from the mixed-species cantina patronage, the young Mandalorian issued unheard commands into his vocal receptor. He glanced into he upper left corner of his HUD.

Foonta. Satisfactory. He would have an additional seven hundred fifty credits added to this bounty on completion. Now the task was getting Dehb to the client for the finale.

A few heavy-set Kajain'sa Nikto armed with melee vibro-axes closed on Ferrigo. In one movement, he quickly twitched his left gauntlet, and raised it level with the throats of the approaching horn-faced humanoids.

He had heard the tell-tale schick-scheck of the PSAM-model dart launcher ratchet-loader. "Bolla neechu peedunkees," Ferrigo said aloud. Both Nikto slowed to a stop as Ferrigo completed his exit from The Pit. Ferrigo's HUD showed no surrounding threats as he knitted his hands together across the chest of Dehb, under his arms, lifted and dragged him at a faster pace toward an idling swoop bike.

Moving Klatooinian Merchandise
Ferrigo put electro-binders on his bounty's wrists behind his back and strapped the hard merchandise to the rear of the generous-length swoop seat with a PSAM/Tre'vhek Fasten-It Web. He tapped a few buttons on his right gauntlet and spoke into his vocal receptor. "Hard merchandise secured for B506X-013268. Transmit location for final disposition within two standard hours."

He mounted the swoop bike, changed his HUD settings and began his ride toward the Duros Sector, fully expecting that the client show would be located in the Undercity.

The ride through the Corellian Sector was uneventful. Entry into the Duros Sector was simple. A flash of his Hutt Cartel Recovery Agent card, or HCRA card. The uniformed Nikto of the Hutt Cartel Security League waved Ferrigo past with his laser carbine. Even with a humanoid fastened to the rear of his ride, uninspected. ''Nar Shaddaa. ''

Ferrigo's hunch was correct. A message popped into his HUD indicating that Dehb's last stop would be at an address featuring a non-descript rectangular storage building in one of the higher vacancy industrial districts in Nar Shaddaa's Undercity. From the schematic plans he was able to call on from his research into property records, there was one drive up loading door, four 'dock-high' loading doors for easy transfer of freight from large ground-based vehicles, and two large upper floor bays with reinforced platforms to support medium-sized aerial freighters. Only three walk-up entrances, and one of them was marked emergency purpose only.

A few quick points he was able to cull from the vast dump of data heading down the left side of his HUD included the difficulty several subdistrict industrial realtors had in marketing an area with severely substandard utilities. The high crime rate. And, he had heard about the ganks.

As quickly as he could on his approach, he surmised the best-to-worst approaches and departures from the erstwhile Pappy Jack's Gorg-o-licious Goods warehouse. He made a quick detour a half-kilometer from the site, and dismounted his swoop after he pulled near a charming, raised antique power transformer. Complete with backup overhead cable wires.

Ferrigo readied a small lumpy block of claylike explosive material and affixed a small strip of thermal datafoil to the block. A few small green unlit indicator lights made the datafoil and attached block stand out visually. He placed the block into his right hand, and activated his jetpack, which ignited and lifted him up to the spare, grated durasteel platform around the transformer. He cut the jetpack thrust and landed with solid footing on the platform. The young Mandalorian placed the block near the shunt housing of the transformer, and pressed it firmly into a gap between cylinders.

He leapt backward off the platform and dropped slightly before his jetpack activated and reduced the speed of his descent and the contact of his heavy boots with the well-worn street near the swoop bike. Ferrigo could hear Dehb groaning on the back of the seat.

He swung his right leg over the seat and mounted the swoop. Ferrigo depresssed the pedals and resumed his way to the derelict food warehouse, and on arrival, pulled the swoop parallel to the ground-level loading door with a sidewise flourish, by applying only the front brakes. Varobb Dehb, trapped in a sturdy but flexible net, yelped as the momentum stretched his torso toward the door.

Ferrigo quickly dismounted the swoop and unbuckled the net fastenings. He rolled the net roughly and attached the clips to small durasteel seat loops. The young Mandalorian pulled Dehb up and off the swoop by his collar and the wrist binders behind his back.

The Klatooinian had a few choice words for Ferrigo, barely intelligible.

"Doesn't change a thing." Ferrigo dragged Dehb by the collar with his left gloved hand. The humanoid began to growl and bark, twisting as Ferrigo rapped heavily on the loading ramp door. "Calm down. Someone wants to see you."

"Anurgga?!" Varobb Dehb shouted in terror, trying to glance at the bounty hunter.

The door rolled upward noisily. A motley collection of Gamorreans, Nikto and Weequay armed with a wide variety of personal weapons of modest or basic quality yielded from the entry of the poorly-lit warehouse as Ferrigo dragged the Klatooinian into the warehouse ten long strides.

"Varobb Dehb is here." Ferrigo stated confidently. "For the show."

"Chowbasa Raydar Vaylahroosa," a loud, low rumbling voice from the shadows.

"Achuta, mwa lorda," Ferrigo responded respectfully, scanning his surroundings as he removed his right-side Taddie from its holster. "Dobrah wata che moulee rah."

"I promise, Anurgga! I will give all the credits back!" the Klatooinian pleaded as Ferrigo held his collar firmly.

"Choy? Echuta! Varobb dopa-maskey!" a sizeable Hutt shuffled into partial light. "Killee bu sleemo!"

The young Prosstang regarded the Hutt. His HUD indicated a green threat level. Just like Dehb. Hutuun. He placed the muzzle of the blaster downward to the rear of Varobb Dehb's neck and pulled the trigger, feeling the pulse of energy surge through the Klatooinian's body as the shot pierced the heart and lungs. He dropped Dehb and stepped over his body and administered a finishing capo shot.

The young Mandalorian straightened his stance and raised his smoking pistol across his chest. "Moulee rah."

The Hutt strung together many words in a lower tone, and began to slide away, back into shadow. One of his Weequay lieutenants spoke up. "The Mighty Lord Anurgga has another job for you. And will double your fee."

"We'll settle this job now, for five thousand seven hundred fifty credits. Then we can discuss other business." Ferrigo stated plainly.

The shadow-bathed Weequay gestured casually. "Are you turning down an opportunity to work for Anurgga the Hutt, the Mighty One?"

Ferrigo activated his thermal scan settings in his HUD, and prepared his gauntlets for the full-array of weapons. He tapped a code into his right gaunlet. "Let's keep things professional. Pay me now." He could see, and the HUD confirmed that the Hutt was slithering his way toward a repulsorlift elevator in the far corner of the warehouse.

"Tch tch tch. Not going to happen tonight, Mandalorian," the Weequay chided, to the cacophany of laughter of the other ten body guards. The sound of axe blades chafed together with a pair of squealing grunts accompanied several heavy footfalls.

The First Hutt Double Cross and Schingo's Valor
"I won't forget this, Anurgga." Ferrigo raised both of his arms, pressing a button on his right gauntlet as he withdrew his dark-saber from over his right shoulder. He activated it in front of his helmet and lowered the handle in front of his solar plexus. The lights and all power in the warehouse and indeed the whole subdistrict outside the open loading ramp door went out. Pitch black.

Ferrigo's fast footwork began toward the loading door, as he whirled with a double handed powerstroke and sliced through the faces of two Gamorreans in one whistling blow. Without slowing, the blurred purple-glow of the shimmering blade spun, dodged, counter-spun and parried as Ferrigo cleaved weapons, wrists, arms, necks and waists.

Packets of laser energy seemed to dance around the large interior of the warehouse in order to provide the slightest hint of light. Ferrigo took only one shot to the helmet and one to his chest plate. These shots did not slow nor impede the young, fierce Mandalorian from his fleeting, nimble, zig-zagging, dazzling and brutal attack. The HUD thermal readings guided him clearly along his path of destruction. Screams and groans from the fallen competed with the image of Kenna Luxara's end and his own screams. Ferrigo enraged was certain as he continued his onslaught, clattering aside weapons, kicks and punches with sweeps of his fast-moving blade.

After being disarmed with ease, the last Gamorrean standing was hewn from the top of his skull to mid-chest. As he deactivated the dark-saber blade, Prosstang somersaulted over the shuddering porcine humanoid toward his recalcitrant client. Only the Weequay and Anurgga the Hutt remained. In the dark.

After catching a series of deep breaths, Ferrigo reactivated the dark-saber blade and stated evenly. "It's just us three."

The Hutt roared and raised his right hand. "Noah!! Murishani goo!! Gankees!!"

Suddenly, Ferrigo saw several counts, then scores of small, armored humanoid shapes pouring from around stacks of crates near the Hutt and his Weequay guard. More laser fire erupted in clusters, zipping around young Prosstang as he quickly assessed his HUD display.

Ganks.

With as much speed as he could muster, he deactivated and holstered the dark-saber in its shoulder scabard, drew both of his PSAM-Taddie pistols and began to dance in backpedal fashion, each weapon firing ion and laser blasts rapidly within the span of his arms.

Many of the small humanoids fell with loss of limb, heavy concussion or disintegration. But their numbers were great. Ferrigo considered his path backward in his HUD. All the life forms to his rear were cooling. Unmoving. Dying. He continued until he sensed that the host of these small, angry beings were flushed out from the crates at the far side of the warehouse. Where Anurgga and his guard were making their retreat.

Ferrigo activated his jetpack and chirped several commands into his vocal receptor. He dodged several red hyphens of laser energy from the wild horde below as he flew in the dark, a distance of six meters from the warehouse floor. He circled the attackers, unleashing a flurry of ion and laser bolts, and each blast tore through one or more targets.

A solid hit on Ferrigo's solar plexus during a curling turn sent him backward a moment.

"Tracinya!" Ferrigo clenched his right fist downward as he flew toward a gathering of laser-firing enemies. A long rope of liquid flame slapped the floor around them, and with his flight path curling around all of the humanoids he could register from thermal vision, the flame roared in an irregular oval that widened with three aerial passes. Several laser bolts hit Ferrigo's beskar armor plates. He felt heat and pain in his right ankle and thigh.

The young Prosstang guided his flight to where he could still see Anurgga and the Weequay. Cutting the jetpack power after crossing the crest of the last stack of crates, he somersaulted and landed squarely only three strides from Anurgga's right side. Through a clearing between the crate stacks, the flames and smoke could be seen around the screaming and braying of immolated ganks.

"Be'senaar." Ferrigo turned his body to face the blaze, his visor's gaze fixed on Anurgga and his guard. Their fearful visages were lit by the dancing fire glow. The Mandalorian returned his gaze to the fire itself before folding himself forward at the waist. "Tracyn." A sharp crack accompanied by a puff of smoke and a sizzling trail of sparks and flame emitted from the top of Ferrigo's jetpack. The missile was set loose into the floor amid the burning chaos at the center of the warehouse.

The explosion less than a count later rocked the foundation and caused some of the nearby crates to fall to the floor. The intensified shrieks of agony lasted only a split of one count, as rags, bones, scraps and flaps of debris pulsed away from the blast. Ferrigo gazed at Anurgga and removed his dark-saber from his holster. Its activation and whistling hum barely heard above the crackling flames. But the purple glow clearly captivated the Hutt and Weequay.

The Hutt could not move. The Weequay cowered. Ferrigo took two steps toward Anurgga, raising his blade. Make it hurt.

"Ateema. Two million Republic credits up front. A luxury apartment in the Corellian Sector. A smaller warehouse in this district to operate out of," Ferrigo continued drily. "One hundred thousand credits per week pay, in a holding account in the name of your Weequay friend here as the new owner of a distributing business located in the Undercity." Prosstang pointed at Anurgga. "Three slave girls for my personal entertainment. I will choose first from your stock, then from the local slave market. New slave girls to refresh my appetite. Your account."

Anurgga garbled in Huttese thickly and in a heated tone. The Weequay spoke up with animated hand gestures. "Ehhh. And Mandalorian, how exactly do you expect Lord Anurgga to pay for all of these...demands? Hmmm?"

Ferrigo eyed a few ganks crawling from the blaze, flame and smoke curling off of their melted armor. "I'll also need a new astromech, and a late model Cybot Galactica protocol droid."

The Hutt gagged and growled. Speechless. Good.

"You have a new enforcer and chief bodyguard, Mighty Anurgga of House Besadii. The name is Velrrus. Schingo Velrrus of Clan Prosstang," Ferrigo walked over to the blaze and ended the lives of the suffering with flourishing sweeps of his dark-saber. His visor returned its gaze on Anurgga. "Your Weequay will have to handle clean-up."

Getting Made in Nar Shaddaa's Corellian Sector
It had taken several weeks, but Ferrigo's new Corellian Sector luxury apartment was fully appointed with works of fine art and furniture of excellent craftsmanship and materials from around the galaxy. Stylish and comfortable. Appliances were of the latest technology. Most of the furnishings had been selected with the consultation of his three very attractive female companions; slaves in name only.

The light-pale blue Twi'lek, Aallyss'anada, or Aallys, was rather voluptuous and mature. At least twenty years older than Ferrigo. She had a few tattoos near her navel marking her as property of Anurgga. In her special ways, she made Ferrigo very happy to have chosen her from the Hutt's collection of entertainers. She was physically beautiful and showed Ferrigo much tenderness in her loving techniques. He had learned many things by trial with Kenna Luxara and her friends, but Aallys provided him with expert lessons in loving. And amazing things only a Twi'lek lover with many years of courtesan experience could share.

Raaleena'warlaan was a younger, bright green-skinned Twi'lek who Ferrigo chose from one of Nar Shaddaa's many slave markets. He had done his research in finding her. He also asked for Aallys to help in the selection. He sought a female with noble blood lines and ties to Ryloth. And she was beautiful. A year younger than Ferrigo, Raalee was demure, gentle and inexperienced as an entertainer or consort. Ferrigo and Aallys in many ways shared in the deflowering of Raalee, and built a strong mutual trust with the young Twi'lek and each other.

Within a week of having the two Twi'leks together with him, they went as a group to select a third slave to join their household. Ferrigo requested, and Aallys and Raalee complied in selecting a petite, small-statured pink-skinned Zeltron female with long, light pink hair. Bekkah was around Ferrigo's age.

One evening, Ferrigo, Bekkah, Aallys and Raalee laid together on the rather large circular bed in the center of the master suite, damp and wet-streaked pillows and sheets tangled about them.

"Gaaahh..." Ferrigo groaned, and wiped his hair from his sweaty brow as Aallys demonstrated a few techniques for Raalee and then Bekkah to follow in practice. "You three are making me very happy."

The Twi'lek women did not respond with words, but with gentle touches of their lekku to sensitive areas of his sweat-soaked muscular body. Bekkah used her hands, and kissed him often, whispering words of adoration. He could only close his eyes, grit his teeth, shake his head and utter feigned protests against the expert, loving torments visited on his straining physique by Aallys, Bekkah and Raalee.

By the first time the doorchimes announced the arrival of a guest, Ferrigo had taken command of the females and sampled each in various situations with great ardor, care and joy. Their responsiveness in kind was likely notable even to the waiting guest. Several minutes later, as the collapse of their seething paroxysm of passion was complete, Ferrigo staggered from the round mattress and through the open doorway from the master suite into the entry foyer. He grabbed a towel from a solid wooden cabinet near the front door and wiped himself dry, still gasping for air.

"Come back," Aallys rolled from her hip to her stomach, the faint light accentuated the sheen of sweat on her pronounced curves of pale blue skin. "We're not done with lessons, Master Velrrus." Bekkah kissed Aallys and held Raalee with her left hand.

The glistening green beauty of Raalee was highlighted by her bright white teeth in a full smile. "Yes, Schingo. Come back, baby." For emphasis, Raalee bit her lower lip and used the insides of her wrists to hold and press together her bountiful endowments. Bekkah moved to kiss that which Raalee held for display, and caused the green Twi'lek female's smile to transform into a gasp.

Ferrigo's eyes flashed a smile, and he then shook his head in mock disgust and true disappointment. "We'll have to put it on hold," the young Mandalorian took a deep breath and grabbed his robe from the hook next to the cabinet. He pressed his left index finger to the entry comm. "Achuta."

"Schingo," an increasingly familiar, heavily-accented voice. "Open up for your goood friend. I can hear the plunder of the innocent in there, Velrrus. Or the once innocent." A cough. "Really, you should not be sooo rough with the Mighty Anurgga's favorite."

Ferrigo looked at his beautiful Twi'lek and Zeltron companions and smiled. They returned smiles and beckoning gestures with their hands and other features of their astonishing feminine forms. He waved them to close the master suite door.

"Are you here for business? As in, you have my payment?" Ferrigo spoke firmly. "Or there's another job Anurgga needs me to do."

A momentary pause. "Schingo, you know I get impatient."

"You know to be thankful for the arrangement we have. You are a wealthy man." Aallys had closed the master suite door, and Ferrigo activated the entrance door button.

The door quickly slid open and the Weequay assistant entered the foyer. Wearing more stylish clothing of late, the oiive green complected reptilian humanoid stroked the facial horns along his jawline. "I must confess. YOU, Schingo Velrrus, are a bright and powerful man. An excellent, surprising ally."

"You're welcome, Ohnaka."

"Especially when you aren't sampling the boss' treasures," the Weequay spread his hands as he surveyed his surroundings. "You have...expensive tastes, Schingo."

"I made my bed, Hondo. I might not sleep in it much these days, but I am mando'karla. I am living life to the fullest."

The Weequay raised his open hands dramatically. "I can hear that, Schingo. So can this block of the Corellian Sector," Anurgga's assistant pinched the fingers of his right hand together. "You will need to earn your keep. Anurgga may have been bested. But his patience knows a limit."

Ferrigo scratched his scalp absently. "Got it."

Hondo looked around and then at Ferrigo, and for a moment during Ferrigo's distracted movements saw more than he had bargained for. "Ehhhh...do you need to get dressed...Schingo?" the Weequay turned his head away while he flicked the fingers of his extended hand toward Ferrigo. "I can wait until you have your decency about you."

"I'm not sure my clothes will provide the decency you hope for, Hondo." Ferrigo said in a wicked tone.

"I don't ask for much, Velrrus. And that is too much. We need to discuss business, specifically spice shipments." the Weequay made a brushing motion with his hand toward Ferrigo as he shook his head solemnly. "I will pretend, then Schingo. That I don't see a scary snake-like thing there. Waving at me. And taunting."

"Okay, I have some time. Let's go to the den."

"Aaahhhhh. A den of iniquity...I presume?" Ohnaka had a sardonic sense of humor that seemed sharp and unrelenting. Ferrigo had grown to like, if not fully trust the Weequay. "Hey, your...thing...it's winking at me. Again."

"Noah, pateesa Hondo," Ferrigo smiled and caught a glance of the young Bekkah dressed in one of his light silken robes as she entered the kitchen overlooking the den. "It's interested in his young and gorgeous handler over there."

"Ah, but of course," the Weequay turned to regard the small Zeltron female. "Can your 'handler' provide you with some containment, Schingo?"

"Yes, I can," Bekkah spoke up. "Schingo, sweetheart. We're keeping warm without you, but we're hoping you can wrap this up sooner rather than later. And it's my turn, baby. I want all of that," she smiled and slowly drew her hand through her hair.

Ferrigo saw Bekkah's face and smiled, then looked to Hondo Ohnaka. "I'll be with you all in less than fifteen minutes, Bekkah." His glance hardened at the Weequay with a nod.

"I meant clothing, young lady," the Weequay added. Bekkah continued as if she had not heard him.

Stepping Into The Spice Racket
"Okay then, down to business, and we shall cut to the quick." Ohnaka set his hands on the table as he sat down on one of the nearby natural leather hide sofas.

Ferrigo's young, Zeltron female slave gathered the tray of beverages and snacks for herself and the Twi'lek slave girls. Ferrigo sat down and shifted his glance to her until her departure to the master suite was complete. "Okay, Hondo. What's the deal?"

"Anurgga has a sizable share of the spice trade here on Nar Shaddaa," the Weequay opened his hands, and gestured with a pinch to finish. "But his ability to keep his shipments intact has been...shall we say...somewhat spotty?"

"How deep are you into this part of his operation?"

"Ohhh. Velrrus. You think I'm taking something from the top, don't you?" Ohnaka raised his eyes for a moment. "Tch tch tch. I'm almost offended by your thoughtful suggestion of my betraying Anurgga."

"I didn't say that at all, Hondo, but if your conscience is bothering you..."

"Conscience?" Ohnaka raised his voice and spread his hands wide, accompanied by a half-smile. "What are you talking about? I am a poor former slave boy who works for a Besadii Hutt on the most criminally-infested world in the galaxy. And that's when I'm not kidnapping the children of rich businessmen!" The Weequay laughed out loud and shook his finger at Ferrigo. "You amuse me, Schingo Velrrus. Conscience."

"Well, Hondo. Are you in the operation or not?" Ferrigo stroked his hands downward along his legs.

"Yes, but of course, my inquisitive Mandalorian," Ohnaka ran his hand over the top of his leathery, horned head, and through his hair. "But I get my share fair and square. No cuts on the side."

"Do you have connections on the outside who might be interested in hitting spice shipments?" Ferrigo opened his hand.

"I'm getting thirsty, Velrrus," the Weequay said with disinterest. "All this talking..."

Ferrigo stood up from the paired sofa and walked over to a cabinet near the kitchen, and with a push of an unseen button, panels shifted and hydraulics activated to present a selection of alcohols contained in artistically-crafted bottles. He gathered two glasses and cubed ice into each before pouring a medium-dark brown alcohol. He walked over and handed one of the glasses to his Weequay guest.

Ohnaka sniffed deeply. "The gooood stuff."

"Only the best Corellian whiskey." Ferrigo held up his glass and took a drink. "So," the young Mandalorian adjusted his robe and sat back down on the sofa. "Do you have some decoys? We need someone to give competition to those who are raiding Anurgga's shipments."

"Velrrus. What you are suggesting. Very devious," the Weequay smiled, sipped his whiskey and gently rotated his glass. "There is something more to this idea?"

"You run the counter-piracy operation. I handle security on the shipments," Ferrigo took a drink and set his drink down as he waved his open hand toward Ohnaka. "Except that your counter-piracy group operates like an independent piracy. A piracy that from time to time takes capital assets from our joint venture here in Nar Shaddaa's Undercity."

"I don't think Anurgga would approve," the Weequay seemed a little nervous. "Don't get me wrong. I am seeing beautiful things here, Schingo."

"I'm not getting you wrong," Ferrigo tightened his lips. "You want power. You want more independence. I want the same things."

"And wealth. Don't forget that, Velrrus." Ohnaka nodded. "I do like wealth."

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "I propose that we tighten up Anurgga's losses by expanding the size of the operation and security. That's gonna come at an expense, but less than what he's losing now by not taking the right steps to protect his operation."

"Hey!" the Weequay objected, his free hand touching his chest as he finished another deep draw on his whiskey glass. "I run the operation, Velrrus."

"You haven't had the likes of me in your corner, Hondo Ohnaka," the young Mandalorian took a deep breath after he finished the dregs of his glass. "The operation, through no fault of your own, is too provincial and easy to nail down. That is gonna change. If you want it to."

The Weequay cooed. "Oh, Schingo Velrrus, I doooo. But there is no way that Anurgga comes out the worse for this."

"Deal." Ferrigo shook Ohnaka's hand firmly.

Hondo looked toward the master suite entryway from the kitchen. Ferrigo turned at the same time to regard the noise they had both heard.

"I have important matters to handle, my friend. Good night." Ferrigo smiled and escorted a dubious, smiling Hondo Ohnaka through the front door before returning to his female companions.

Later that night, after being thoroughly exhausted by his slave consorts - his beautiful lovers - Ferrigo dreamt. The gorgeous green eyed goddess with blonde hair. On Mandalore. But also other places.

''-The time to prepare has begun. Set the slaves free, my Mand'alor. And wisely place them where they will serve Mandalore well into the future. Be free of heart. Your One will come to you-'' She smiled. Children emerged from behind her. She, and they, seemed so familiar.

Ferrigo woke with a smile. He rousted Aallys first, and made love with her quietly. Then in turn, as Raalee and Bekkah woke, he made love with each of them, tenderly. Later, they shared a passionate feast together, with food and drink on tables around the circular bed.

Never More
Ferrigo shifted the Never More into a sharp left banking turn. The Never More was a Corellian Engineering Corporation ship in name only. The YT-1000 stock ship that it had once been had been modified in so many ways internally as to be a significantly more. Faster. Better protected. More heavily armed. Improved hyperspace drive. Hondo!

The Weequay seemed to follow too close for too long. And his scheduled transmissions directly to Prosstang had been too infrequent. And then, after passing through the Death Wind Corridor, Hondo and his vessel could not be raised on Ferrigo's specially-configured comm set. No sign of the decoy. Within two hours of Tatooine, ready to transfer a shipment of spice mined from Gargon that had been held in the Nar Shaddaa Undercity warehouse of Brilliant Pharmaceuticals, Inc. for several months after refinement. Brilliant had been Ferrigo's idea - setting up Ohnaka as the chief executive of the distribution company responsible for shipments of medicine around the galaxy.

Many of Ferrigo's slave consorts purchased on Nar Shaddaa and other slave markets in Hutt Space had been freed over the past three years. He had shown them loving, enjoyed their pleasures, and set them up as small business owners throughout the Outer Rim after freeing them. He acted on the vision of the manda.

...

Concordia Meeting Strengthens Prosstang MIning on Bandomeer
With apparent quieting of the Mandalorian Civil War, Q'osstigo, as CEO, and his brother Rappretto Prosstang, as Chief Financial Officer, approached Ferrigo about taking a more active role in Prosstang Industries.

It took a significant peace offering on the part of the father to retrieve the son. In sum, Ferrigo agreed to expand his responsibilities and dedicate more time to learning the ropes of the family business. From Q’osstigo, he learned how to the generally assess mineral qualities, selecting appropriate chemicals and technologies for extracting and refining raw materials for production, and the design of weapons and armor systems. From his uncle Rappretto, he learned about labor relations, contract negotiations and identifying opportunities for reducing costs and maximizing profits. It was during this time that Ferrigo and Rappretto’s son, Jannigo Prosstang were also contracted by Prosstang Industries, along with several of Ferrigo's True Mandalorian vode to provide security for the Prosstang Industries fleet of freighters.

In 47 BBY, Q'osstigo, Rappretto and their sons attended a dinner with two Republic Senators and several representatives and client executives of MandalMotors, BlasTech Industries, Merr-Sonn Munitions, Czerka Arms, Mitrinomon Transports, the Mining Guild, the Commerce Guild, Techno Union and Corporate Alliance at the Prosstang Chateau on Concordia, Mandalore's inhabitable moon. Concordia was the former primary beskar lode for many mines, including those of Prosstang Industries. Beyond the pleasantries, meal and refreshments, the themes of the meeting were focused on weapons manufacturing and securing ore mining rights with minimal taxation.

Lorca Oviedo, chief executive officer of Oviedo Engineering spoke first in a dour voice after the formal introductions. "Oviedo Engineering pledges its support for Prosstang Industries in securing ore mining rights on Bandomeer. Lord Prosstang has convinced me that his business model can work - bridging the gap between the miners' representation of Arcona and Offworld Mining, and addressing the high costs and inefficiencies."

"Thank you, Oviedo," Q'osstigo Prosstang, dressed in a smart, dark purple suit, replied with a half-smile, as he clicked the button of a hand-held device that activated a green-tone holoprojector at the center of the conference table and dimmed the room lights.

Rappretto Prosstang, also dressed in shades of purple, stood from his seat and addressed the attendees. "It will only be a matter of time until the Arcona union leadership sees the benefits of agreeing to our contract terms. Offworld Mining cannot meet those terms. They’re tied up with interrupted operations throughout the Expansion Region."

"The Techno Union seeks lower prices on raw materials," Emir Wat Tambor spoke as Foreman, the leader of the Techno Union. "I have been pre-authorized to offer our support for the Prosstang Industries proposal to restore price stability on Bandomeer." The Emir frequently adjusted knobs on his chest-mounted respirator to account for atmospheric interference with his voice modulator.

The man who had introduced himself as Palpatine, Senator from Naboo spoke next. "If I may interject. Despite the most reasonable solution and capacity to carry it out, support from the Senate might be difficult to obtain for Prosstang Industries. Though the people of Bandomeer are firmly in the grip of Offworld Mining, there is an insurgency movement there." The Senator from Naboo glanced at Q'osstigo and Rappretto before continuing heavily. "Should the Senate agree to a resolution, the likely involvement of the Jedi Council in Bandomeer's affairs as brokers of peace might complicate matters of industry and trade."

"What worries should we have with the Jedi?" Ferrigo asked pointedly.

Palpatine responded, with a slightly chiding motion of his right hand toward the table. "Young Master Prosstang? There is but one worry. The Jedi, though powerful and well-intentioned, have a reputation for treading heavily in delicate matters."

"Then what do you propose, Senator?" Presidente Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild asked somewhat warily. "The Commerce Guild has resources committed to acquiring the ore. We too feel that the Prosstang Industries proposal is most reasonable."

"Patience. That will be your ally," Senator Palpatine cast his gaze around the table. "Within the week, I will talk with my colleagues in the Senate. There is a matter for the Appropriations Committee that needs to be addressed regarding additional protection of hyperspace travel along the Hydian Way."

Wat Tambor raised his voice, and tinkered with one of the knobs on his chest plate. "That would *clik-bzzz-bweep* lead to increased transport costs to us..."

"Doesn't Prosstang Industries have its own contracted security?" Lorca Oviedo asked.

Q'osstigo Prosstang raised his hands expansively. "Well..."

Ferrigo leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the table near his father's seat. "Yes, we have access to the best cargo security firm in the Outer Rim, if not the galaxy."

Palpatine's lips tightened at the corners into a smirk. "The Jedi?"

Laughter rose from around the table.

"Mandalorian contractors," Ferrigo shot a glare at the Senator from Naboo, then looked across the room toward his cousin, Jannigo. Even at 16 years old, the younger Prosstang appeared a fearsome sight in his Mandalorian armor.

Palpatine looked to Q'osstigo and Rappretto. "Lord Prosstang, you may wish to consider adding your son to the list of silent partners seated here. His talk of Mandalorian mercenaries would be most unsettling in the vaunted chambers of the Galactic Senate, and would certainly attract complications for Mandalore and much more," the Senator shifted in his seat and leaned slightly forward. "Complications that might greatly reduce the benefits of the arrangements you seek to offer all of the parties here, as well as the general welfare of Outer Rim systems."

Ferrigo glowered a shade of dark pink, somewhat lessened by the growth of a short, but full beard. Ferrigo shook his head slightly after seeing his young cousin begin to raise his blaster rifle. He then glanced at his father and uncle, neither of whom stood ground in defense of the Prosstang Industries security team.

"Senator. What do you propose?" Presidente Shu Mai asked earnestly with some impatience.

Emir Tambor added a question and observation. "Who shall provide the needed protection? Our member manufacturers can create droid security units...but that is not legal."

Senator Palpatine inhaled and his eyebrows raised. "I'm not sure of the options. The Chommel Sector has had some benefit in working with the Trade Federation and its limited allowance for security units to protect its vessels and facilities from piracy."

"That is a non-starter," Shu Mai said incredulously. "The Trade Federation have no strength in leadership. The Commerce Guild Punitive Security Forces could supplement the resources of Prosstang Industries."

"The Trade Federation have the ears of the Senate," Palpatine lamented. "Their representative, Nute Gunray, has been very convincing in sharing the concerns of many regarding increased challenges to maintaining safe and reliable transit of goods from the Outer Rim to the Core Worlds. For their faults, the Trade Federation maintains the best available information about hyperspace travel throughout the Mid- to Outer Rim." Naboo's representative paused for effect before beginning what amounted to a soft prosecution. "The Republic has no standing army to protect any lanes of commerce. And, Presidente Mai, the PSF will certainly not be held above suspicion for its lack of responsiveness to a string of recent incidents. Incidents where pirates terrorized vessels of Guild members, whom have exasperatingly claimed that they were only weeks late in paying their dues."

Oviedo responded firmly, looking at Palpatine, Shu Mai and Rappretto Prosstang. "I don't see the need to bring in the Trade Federation. Not now."

Wat Tambor seemed troubled in his thoughts, and again tinkered with his control knobs as he made effort to speak. "Senator Palpatine has a point. And the Prosstang proposal will reap *bzz-wheen* great rewards for our combine. I suggest we contact the Trade Federation. We need to have their expertise in navigating the hyperlanes safely."

"I have reservations. But the Commerce Guild will be open to discussions with the Trade Federation on security and shipping, only if Lord Prosstang approves." Shu Mai seemed slightly defeated in her tone.

Palpatine rose from the table, and his chair was withdrawn by an attendant member of the Clan Prosstang. "You have much to discuss. I, however, must take my leave for Coruscant. The Outer Rim territories should benefit from your agreements here. Safe travels to us all."

Q'osstigo stood and spoke warmly. "Allow me to see you out, Senator," walking Palpatine to the entry, with Ferrigo close behind the elder Prosstang continued. "Thank you for attending."

"Master Prosstang," Senator Palpatine passed a very brief, wry glance at Ferrigo. "I'd like to have a word alone with your most noble father, the Lord Prosstang."

Though curious and nursing a bruised ego, Ferrigo left his father to talk with the Senator from Naboo, and returned to the conference room after taking a look around the anteroom.

The Fateful Battle of Galidraan (44 BBY)
Many True Mandalorians had been working independently on contracts for armed escort, military training, bodyguard work, and bounty hunting since mid-47 BBY when they received a call from Jango regarding an insurrection on Galidraan.

Briefing at the Oyu'baat
The Governor of Galidraan was hiring Fett and the True Mandalorians to put down the insurgents, and the command team needed to hustle to the Oyu'baat Tapcaf in Keldable for the briefing. Ferrigo arrived by speeder bike in full beskar'gam. Ferrigo was escorted by Teena, the shapely, blue-skinned female Twi'lek waitress to one of the booths at the rear of the tapcaf enclosed in veshok panels and a sliding pocket door.

"Vore, Teena. Bal'banurcye Mhi...laam'kajil," Ferrigo smiled and slid open the door after three quick raps of his knuckles. The Twi'lek smiled, nodded and turned away with a slightly exaggerated thrust of her right hip. Ferrigo took one last look at her, and her moving lekku before entering the booth, sliding in to sit next to Ijaat Kabur and Myles. "Su cuy gar ner vode."

"Hitting up on Teena?" Kabur snorted with a smile. "That tight fitting bodysuit leaves little to the imagination. I thought you were a thinking man, Pross."

"Well, Ijaat, I'm thinking I know more than Teena's bodysuit is tight fitting. And-," Ferrigo stopped, looking peripherally then directly at Jango's raised hand. "Alright, Jango, you've got a job for us?" Ferrigo glanced over at Silas, who sipped from a pint of netra'gal.

"Yeah, Pross. A full team effort. I'll need you to put aside at least a week and a half," Fett looked seriously at Ferrigo. "Can you do that?"

Ferrigo sniffed and looked up at the old-fashioned lantern hanging from the ceiling of the booth. "I can do that. Aerial?"

"Of course," Jango said without hesitation. "And I need you hail Tyro Kels'mek. He's got the rocket launcher. Just in case."

The group was interrupted for a moment when Teena brought the group a round of netra'gal. When she closed the partitiion door, Myles chirped. "Doesn't Kels'mek's old lady still do mercenary gigs, too?"

"Not much, from what I hear," Ferrigo scratched his beard a few times then took a long draw on his pint glass.

"We could use her for deep infiltration. Send her a few days early..." Kabur grinned.

Ferrigo and Silas exchanged serious, blank glances from across the table, and suddenly Silas quipped. "Close range gauntlet dart specialist?"

The table erupted in laughter. Ferrigo shook his head slowly, begrudgingly showing a half-smile. Jango spoke up with a bit of lightness in his voice. "Pross. You know we'll never let you forget that, don't you?"

"It has occured to me," Ferrigo turned slightly to his left in hopes of stifling the chuckes of Ijaat Kabur and Myles. They carried on instead.

"Tyro probably should have told her to deactivate her weapons," Myles tried to begin blandly, before blurting in a gleeful yell. "AT THEIR OWN SHAB'LA WEDDING!!" Myles slammed his hand down on the table several times, as Ijaat Kabur and Silas rasped in glee, pounding their fists on the shaking veshok. The booth rocked with uproarious laughter, that even Ferrigo could not resist sharing part of.

Many more drinks were consumed, and discussions about the scope of the mission, the opposition, the key objectives and locations, logistics, and tactics drew out for a few hours before wrapping up. Ferrigo stayed in the booth alone with his last glass of netra'gal, sipping it carefully, enjoying the rich, sweet flavor. The veshok partition door slid open, and Teena, the Twi'lek server looked at Ferrigo with a slight grin. "My shift is over."

"Perhaps the shifting has yet to begin, Teena," Ferrigo said slyly. "I'll see you upstairs in a few minutes. Be wearing that smile. Nothing more."

"As you wish...Snake...." Teena smiled.

A Farewell to Their Son
Ferrigo returned the next morning to the Prosstang Castle to fully prepare his gear. HIs swoop bike pulled up through the gates unchallenged, his purple racing jacket with a tracking transponder providing clear identification to the security team. He entered the Great Hall, feeling a cool breeze blowing through from the balcony levels above, their rayshields deactivated. He looked upon the enormous tapestry that in total told the story of Clan Prosstang to the present day. Ornate, but unfinished. Sometime in the future, he would hear that his father had chosen a team of expert weavers to transfer the history of the clan during the time of Aliit'alor Q'osstigo Prosstang into the tapestry.

"Son, you know we're concerned about you."

Ferrigo looked up to see his father standing a full level above, hands on the rail, overlooking the large fireplace and veshok-enclosed meeting table. "Again," Ferrigo tilted his head. "Teena says too much."

Shaking his head, Q'osstigo looked down at his sun, basking in window-filtered rays of the primary star, Mandalore. "We have two grandchildren. Twi'leks. You know that our clan history won't smile on those children, Ferrigo. But you should marry her and settle down."

"Your concern is touching, buir." Ferrigo said tersely. "She wanted children. They are a happy family."

"Irresponsible. A Prosstang commits and stands by his family," Q'osstigo gripped the railing. "Your family, Ferrigo. I don't approve of your footloose ways, ner ad. It's time for you to settle down and marry. I would have preferred you marry a human Mandalorian, as has always been the custom of our clan. But this Teena is the mother of your children."

"We are happy as we are."

"Clearly you can't be reasoned with on these matters of appearance and authority."

"Appearance. Authority. You haven't lived as a mercenary most of your life. You don't understand," Ferrigo shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "I'm going to love the life I live, and live the life I choose. With or without your approval, Aliit'alor."

"Sending you off as a boy to Mereel was the worst mistake I've ever made."

"Kenna Luxara," Ferrigo glared back at his father, standing his ground. "I still love her." Ferrigo held his thumb and forefinger spread apart above his shoulder. "THAT...was your worst mistake."

Ferrigo's mother emerged next to her husband. "Ferrigo, I want you to do what is right for you. But you must realize that your decisions now affect others. Our grandchildren."

Ferrigo sighed and ascended the steps, heading for the rear stairwell. "Teena doesn't want to marry. We love our children, but she has no interest in raising warriors. I won't marry a woman who can't or won't honor the traditional lifeways of our clan.

"I don't want my grandchildren to love violence, son." Signara Prosstang said sanguinely. "We can help Teena. You shouldn't shut us out of their lives."

"It's not my call, it's hers," Ferrigo almost snapped. "And father, you should know that I will also respect the species purity custom of Clan Prosstang. I will not marry a non-human."

"Great comfort." Q'osstigo allowed his brow to darken, before releasing the railing and turning to walk away. "You are on your way to chase Mereel's dream. Fighting someone else's fight."

"It pays your bills. Why are you complaining, father?" Ferrigo mounted the stairs upward to get to his suite.

Signara turned to look on Ferrigo with sorrow as her husband walked out onto the south balcony. "We will miss you. Be well and safe, dear son."

Half an hour later, Ferrigo was riding with Tyro Kels'mek and Ijaat Kabur in a landspeeder to the Keldabe spaceport.

Ferrigo casually asked Tyro about Relia and married life.

Tyro grunted and muttered. "She's not feeling good. Why do you ask?"

"You guys are my friends. And I care enough to ask."

Those would be the last words that Ferrigo and Tyro Kels'mek would exchange.

Landing at Galidraan
The small fleet of Meteor Q-class shuttles descended from the cargo bay of the heavy cruiser toward the atmosphere of Galidraan. Ferrigo swayed slightly and looked to the ceiling lights as his right hand held the rail between the flight crew cabin and the company seating area. The shuttle was buffeted and jolted after orienting its keel to take on the atmosphere.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue loudly against the roof of his mouth and uttered the word 'cargo,' activating the connection between his helmet's voice unit and the sound system in the cargo hold, where 47 of his troopers were securely strapped in, despite the jarring and shaking of the shuttle. "You know the score. Check your weapons. Two man teams. Stay with your teammate the whole trip. Civilians will be on the playing field. For us, that is the whole town including the the university campus. Shoot only when shot at. Keep your buckets on, HUDs up, all times. Neutralize the radicals. Go soaking wet only if you have to," Ferrigo regarded a trooper with his hand raised. "Yes, Yom'ika?"

Yomaget Tre'vhek, a cousin of Ferrigo's asked loudly,"Going wet?! Are you talking about university co-eds, Pross?!" Laughter spread throughout the cargo hold. The female soldier sitting next to Yomaget punched him in the arm below his shoulder plate. He mockingly rubbed his fresh, deserved jab.

Ferrigo responded."Don't make me dart you, ner vod."

"No worries for me, Pross! You ain't Relia Kels'mek!" Yomaget shouted to the apparent delight of the entire company.

"K'uur ner vode!! There will be time for fun when this insurgency is put down. Keep your boots and buckets on. We're doing a drop from the bird's shebse," Ferrigo reached over with his left hand and pressed a large red button  on a panel trimmed with black and yellow tape. The ramp from the shuttle engaged, groaned and whirred into life, lowering with a blast of cool, damp air sweeping through the cargo hold. The ramp continued its downward thrust, angling toward the ground and the emergent, sweeping sight of steeply angled and intersecting roof panels below with snow collected in their troughs. Still moving, the ramp opened to show a snow-swept marketplace in view. The throaty rumble of the primary engines echoed off of nearby buildings as they passed, with a few whining hisses of the vertical thrusters activated from moment to moment to keep the shuttle somewhat level as it gently swayed. "Oya! Make Jaster Mereel proud!"

The seat harnesses released and each of the warriors, verde, paired up with their opposite from across the shuttle's cargo bay and began jumping off the end of the ramp, with brief plunges and the activation of jetpacks soon followed. Pair after pair of armored shocktroopers debouched from the lumbering craft, just as snowdrifts scattered from crevices in roofing to the snow-covered ground below. The craft lurched and yawled to the right as it followed the long curve of what appeared to be the foundation of a fortress. Above the wet, shimmering rooftop tiles of the town below, Ferrigo saw several of the supercommando pairs flying to their assigned coordinates.

He took one last concentrated look at the status of the teams in his HUD, and switched over to his own pairing status. In Mando'a letters: Myles.

When all but a few pairs remained, Ferrigo released his hold on the handle after tapping a button on his right gauntlet. He walked carefully over to the ramp, joined by Myles. They looked at each other, curtly nodded and jumped off the ramp. Ferrigo shouted. "JETS ON!"

...

Day 1: Fierce Resistance - Street Fighting in the Faubourg Bergkratz
...

Day 2: Faubourg Taken, Foothold Gained - Siege of the Royal University of Galidraan
...

Getting Paid in Full
After handling the rebels over the period of a few days, Fett gathered a detachment including Ferrigo, Jannigo, Ijaat Kabur, Silas and another of Ferrigo's cousins of the Clan Ordo boarded their Mandalorian speeders and made their way through the Faubourg Bergkratz to Burg Kiesl, the Governor's castle, to collect payment. The rest of Fett's soldiers stayed near the university where the rebels had concentrated the remainder of their forces. On their way, Fett and the detachment slowed as they saw a number of dead civilians, including women and children, sprawled and curled in the streets from blaster wounds and scorching from flame-throwers.

"Jango! Ijaat! Snake! These are victims of wrist-blasters and wrist-torches!" Desh Ordo shouted nervously.

"Mandalorian work," Jango's voice, calm and cool, the Mand'alor waved his hand casually toward the corpses and debris from weapons impacts.

"Haar'chak! Women...children...!" Ferrigo heard Ijaat Kabur stammer.

Jannigo's voice cut through the chatter on the channel. “Iba’rang!!”

"Hold it together, Jan'k." During this exchange, as the group cautiously moved toward the Ferrigo looked around, clucked his tongue, tapped key sequences on his gauntlets and blinked his eyelids while looking at various data inside his HUD. "Death Watch are here. I sense Viszla's presence."

Silas moaned, adjusting his grip on his blaster rifle. "Pross! What are you talking about?!"

“This is his handiwork.”

Fett affirmed Ferrigo's assessment. "Pross is right. None of Jaster's men. None of my men. Except maybe Montross...would do this."

Desh shouted, causing some static on the channel. "LOOK!! Corelllian Consular Cruisers!!"

The low, undulating grumble of the ships' engines filled the thin air of a winter's afternoon.

“ORI’HAAR’CHAAK!!” Jannigo yelled and staggered onward toward the Governor's castle.

Ferrigo said with a tone of resignation. "Jedi. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Snake, Crack-Shot (Desh Ordo's nickname), let's go," Jango said firmly, snapping Ferrigo from his brief lapse. "Silas, Ijaat, Prst'adika (Jannigo's nickname) stay here and establish a link to the drop ship. We need to be prepared to bug out."

After passing through the village at the base of the escarpment the Governor's Castle was located on, Ferrigo, Jango and Desh entered the open portcullis with their sensors set for overlapping functions. The trio communicated on a separate channel as they progressed into the turbolift elevator. Scans showed no traps or explosives. After arriving through a set of large doors from a courtyard, the Governor welcomed the True Mandalorian warriors into the castle's great hall.

"Ah...Fett and friends," the Governor of Galidraan said with some anxiety at the sight of three sturdy Mandalorian warriors before him. "Welcome to Galidraan."

"Hello, Governor." Fett said plainly. "We took care of your problem." The Mand'alor paused. "The Mandalorians have prevailed. Your reign is secure. It's time for you to uphold your end of the agreement."

The Governor started to speak, but could only stammer silently as Ferrigo and Desh removed their blaster pistols from their holsters.

Fett continued. "Payment. And the whereabouts of Tor Vizsla. I know you've been harboring him and funding his attempts to rebuild the Death Watch." Jango, Ferrigo and Crack-Shot Ordo readied their weapons, with Fett placing the muzzle of his blaster against the Governor's forehead.

"That won't be necessary," the Governor's teeth chattered. "He...he left Galidraan!"

Jango spoke evenly. "That's not the right answer. We will not leave until we are paid in full. I killed your enemies. And you tell me where to find mine."

A figure in jet-black Mandalorian armor, followed by at least ten other figures wearing similarly colored armor emerged from a tall curtain on the other side of the hall. "Then you will never leave here!" the helmetless and scarred Tor Vizsla yelled as he and his troops opened fire.

Blaster fire lit the room to a near unbearable brightness. The sound, smoke, odor and flame of jetpacks igniting and flaring also filled out the scene. Crack-Shot Ordo and Prosstang wore pure beskar'gam armor that deflected several shots into their surroundings. The heat of the flames practically made the great hall an oven.

Escaping from the great hall, the True Mandalorians ran toward the front entrance. Sensing that the doors would be sealed, Ferrigo yelled for his comrades to leap to the sides as he bent down at the waist and launched his missile from the jetpack toward the control panel. A 'foom-and-crack-rumble-and-sizzle' of an explosion of durasteel, stonework and electrical systems pinned Ferrigo to the floor and slammed Ordo lifeless into the wall while Fett made his escape through the yawning husks of the doors.

"Fer'k! Desh! We have to get back to Silas, Myles and the others!! There's no reception on the comm!"

Interrogation by Tor Vizsla in the Dungeon of Burg Kiesl
Ferrigo awoke from unconsciousness to find himself in shackles in a poorly lit, dank and malodorous dungeon. Between interrogation and torture sessions, Ferrigo meditated on the Force.

"Prosstang?" The tall man with scarred face and a disheveled mane of black hair  asked tersely. His Mandalorian shocktrooper armor seemed black; devoid of color in the dark.

Ferrigo did not respond. The man slapped Ferrigo hard across the right side of his face.

"Fierfek, di'kut!! You will answer me!!" The man's gloved hands balled into fists.

The man walked around in the dimness, boots crushing the rough hewn stone floor for several minutes before speaking again. Ferrigo said nothing.

"You know...you would do yourself a favor by joining Death Watch. Your parents and clan leadership have kissed the shebse of the New Mandalorians for far too long. It is an embarrassment that as Mandalorians we have to endure weak-minded leadership of our world and star system."

Ferrigo groaned. "I will never join Death Watch."

"You are a fool," the man chided. "Truly, part of Jaster Mereel's legacy. There is no shade of reason with the New Mandalorian regime, ad'ika. They are the Faithless! They will never accept Mereel's vision, and they will NEVER work with you OR Fett!"

"You lead a bunch of amateurs, Vizsla," Ferrigo snapped. "No honor. Violence for its own sake."

Tor Vizsla dashed quickly toward Ferrigo and swung his boot across Ferrigo's jaw. Prosstang shouted in pain as his jaw was dislocated. Ferrigo revealed nothing more, and simply endured the beatings he received over the next several days.

Within a few weeks, he knew that he had been joined by Jango Fett, Prst'adika, Crack-Shot Ordo, Kabur, Silas and a few others as prisoners of the Governor of Galidraan. They spoke very little among themselves before being shipped to slavers throughout the galaxy. The True Mandalorians were finished under Jango Fett.

A Slave to Nal Hutta
The large female-voice emitted from Gardulla Besadii, Ferrigo's Hutt master. "You have been here six months, weakling, and yet you do not clean the cups to my liking."

Responding in Huttese, in the presence of Nikto, Weequay and Gamorrean guards and whipmasters, Ferrigo bowed. The whippings and beatings had been effective. "Mighty Gardulla, please allow me to clean the cups again. I beg of you."

"Noah!" the Hutt pointed at him and soon the hard, wet lengths of braided bantha leather cracked on Ferrigo's bare back. The outfit he wore was limited to a metal-ringed leather harness and skimpy pair of leather shorts.

Ferrigo's shouts and screams echoed throughout the lower chambers and halls of Gardulla's Nal Hutta Palace, as he fell to the floor on his hands and knees. The blood trickled from re-opened wounds. A Nikto guard named Gurkgal, who had taken great relish in punishing the Mandalorian grabbed Ferrigo's neck and slammed his face into the floor. He thought of Relia, Kenna, Teena, Aallys, Raalee, Bekkah and a few other of the slaves he had freed in the last five years. Ferrigo muttered under his breath an oath to kill Gurkgal.

Gurkgal lustily punched Prosstang in the lower back. Ferrigo shouted breathlessly, his eyes straining with tears. The Nikto came around and lifted the handle on the rear of the slave collar. Once Ferrigo caught sight of him, the guard viciously backhanded the bearded Mandalorian's face and followed with an open-handed slap.

Gardulla laughed heartily.

Her pink Cyber Galactic protocol model droid, shifted toward the entrance to the grand chamber, as the axe-wielding Gamorrean guards moved away from the doorway and spoke. "Oh Mighty Gardulla, the Gatekeeper Droid has informed me that a pair of Jedi have requested entry to the Palace. The Jedi have been granted entry and are being escorted directly to your Excellency."

Gardulla's mood and tone of voice changed instantly. She roared with displeasure. "Not welcome! I did not permit this trespass!"

The large doors to the grand chamber groaned and clanked with the turning of gears to open. Another protocol droid near the opening doors stood ready and spoke to the two unwelcomed and cloaked guests. Presumably Jedi.

"The Esteemed and Mighty Gardulla," the taller human, a male, spoke in clear, elegant and sonorous basic. "I am Jedi Master Dooku, humble servant of peace," he continued as he lowered his cowl from his head, his left hand indicated his companion, a young blonde-haired human female. "And this is my Padawan Learner, Komari Vosa. We are here to discuss the recently reported hoarding of bacta raided from insured shipments between Republic systems."

"Jedi sleemo!" Gardulla protested. "U tinka jee moocha do bacta spasteeka?!" the protocol droid began to translate.

"To the contrary, your Excellency," the voice of the male Jedi boomed throughout the chamber. "We are only following our leads. We do not believe you have committed any violation."

Gurkgal and the Weequay guards dragged and lifted Ferrigo to his feet. The Jedi turned to look at the poorly-clothed, bruised and bleeding human before their eyes.

"Master Dooku," the young female gazed at Ferrigo. "Isn't it unusual for a Hutt to have a human slave?"

"Padawan, you shall remain silent." The tall, salt-and-pepper haired, and bare-faced Jedi with strong facial features set his left hand downward as if to reinforce his words. Ferrigo felt a slight constriction of his breath.

''My goodness. Who is this Dooku? Galidraan. Was he there? Jango said...''

Jedi Master Dooku, seemingly startled for a moment gazed directly at Ferrigo. He appraised Prosstang for several seconds before he returned his attention to the Hutt. "Several containers of bacta were traced to this region of Nal Hutta, Lord Gardulla. A pair of Trandoshans and a Nikto," Dooku looked at Gurkgal. "Were reportedly in possession of this bacta. Given the recently concluded Stark Bacta War, such a condition might attract reprisals from Coruscant, Mighty Gardulla. A situation most untenable, if I might say."

Gurkgal cowered backward a few steps. Ferrigo scowled at the Nikto. ''You sleemo, Gurkgal. Hope you get your come uppance.''

"Mighty Gardulla," the Jedi raised an eyebrow. "I do ask that you consider a request." Dooku turned toward the Nikto and Ferrigo Prosstang.

After an exchanged hush of Huttese and basic between Gardulla and her droid, the droid addressed the Jedi. "The Mighty Gardulla wishes to hear your request, Honorable Jedi Master Dooku."

"Consider the following, Esteemed Gardulla of the Glorious Besadii clan. Please release into our custody the Nikto named Gurkgal, and the human slave here."

The protocol droid spoke up. "Her Majesty Gardulla shall consider both of your requests, but has a question for you in hopes of clarifying your needs, Master Jedi."

"The needs of the Jedi Order are not conditional, Mighty Gardulla," Dooku said insistently. His Padawan Vosa shifted her weight, standing at her master's side. "You have only to agree. Or, to disagree. Though I would suggest strongly that disagreement will be met with reprisals of an immediate nature." The tall Jedi moved the left hand side of his cloak to expose a gleaming metallic, curved tube affixed to his waistband. His lightsaber. The Padawan followed the movements of her master, and indicated a readiness to remove her own lightsaber for use. "Agree, and you shall be compensated for your compliance."

"Gurkgal ree goola. Hees karking sleemo hotshuh," Gardulla growled.

The protocol droid raised her pink metallic hands. "I am C-5TO. As a lady, I will respectfully translate my master's comment. You may take Gurkgal."

Jedi Master Dooku turned to regard Ferrigo and again in his booming, noble voice. "The young man. We will not leave without him. He is wanted in three Republic systems." The Weequay guards began to converge on Ferrigo, and the Nikto also moved toward Prosstang. "Mighty Gardulla. Please call off your guard."

C-5TO began to speak quickly to Gardulla in Huttese. Gardulla grumbled in Huttese to her protocol droid, who then turned sharply.

"The Mighty and Gracious Gardulla Besadii insists that this servant has been properly obtained without any record of criminal wrong-doing. A transaction with Zygerrian slavers. My master wishes to inform you that documents verifying the legality of the transaction and the status of this property is available for the Jedi to review." C-5TO lowered her arms.

"Master, we're in a shell game here." the young blonde Jedi Padawan implored the imposing Dooku.

Ferrigo wondered, through the searing and shooting pains he still felt in his back and the swelling of his face if perhaps the Jedi knew more about him than they had said.

Master Dooku looked down toward his Padawan and then beyond to Prosstang. His gaze was uncomfortably penetrating. "I wish to speak with the slave personally, your Excellency. While the documentation is being gathered for my review."

After a few seconds, C-5TO said fluidly. "Gardulla, my kind and respectful master shall permit you to speak with the slave."

The tall, darkly dressed Jedi approached Ferrigo. "Leave us," he said to the guards, who immediately backed away and walked toward the chamber wall. Several steps away, Padawan Vosa engaged Gurkgal in conversation.

Ferrigo winced, and heard Gardulla softly grumbling in the distance. The impressing voice of the Jedi Master filled his ears. "Your service here is over. I guarantee it."

Ferrigo moaned unintelligibly.

"You have several warrants for your arrest, and will be brought to justice," Dooku said evenly. "The Jedi Council and the Galactic Republic Judicial Department have been very interested in you. A Mandalorian from a respectable family of industrialists that has a penchant for exploiting the poor, causing personal and property damage, and leaving a trail of misery."

"You oversell my strong points as faults," Ferrigo said weakly. "Or have only talked to those who don't know me well."

"Really," the taller man stalked slowly around the younger Mandalorian. "Then you should correct me, Ferrigo Prosstang."

"I'm just a simple man trying to make my way through the galaxy," Ferrigo echoed words of Jaster Mereel. "I am responsible for myself, and have never taken to ruining lives. Not without cause and payment."

"Ever work for a Hutt?" the Jedi knew quite a bit. Or was savvy and experienced enough to pry. "Yes? Your thoughts betray you, young Prosstang." Dooku seemed to be gloating, at more than a kicking distance. "I wouldn't recommend attempting combat with me. I am among the highest regarded duelists of the Jedi Order. And my command of the Force is unparalleled with one exception."

"Your ego is strong too," Ferrigo rasped.

"Indeed," the Jedi Master continued to circle Ferrigo. "We shall talk of Galidraan and your other crimes on our return to Coruscant."

"I don't think so," the bearded and pained Mandalorian seethed. "I'm not a weak-willed stooge."

"You underestimate your need to rest." Dooku waved his hand and Ferrigo felt his strength and awareness slip away.

Captive In The Jedi Temple
Ferrigo woke in a small cell, simply furnished.

...

A Shared Loss (43 BBY)
Ferrigo, on collecting his dear friend Tyro Kels'mek's remaining beskar'gam pieces, flew his personal shuttle craft to Negat Cube City in the Excision Zone not far from Sundari to present Kels'mek's warrior mementos to his widow. The widow Kels'mek cried on Ferrigo's jacket soon after he entered his good friend's apartment. They talked of Tyro, and what he had done, what he had wanted to do. She had been waiting in hope that he would someday return. The smells and memorabilia of Tyro Kels'mek were ever-present in the furnishings of this place. "I miss him too, Relia. He was like an older brother to me," Ferrigo said, setting the remains of Tyro Kels'mek on the dinette table, holding back his emotions with a thin thread. And memories of Relia.

Relia Kels'mek reached up for Ferrigo's neck and brought him down to her for a kiss.

"Voodoo." Ferrigo gasped. "No."

"Yes, Schingo," Relia gasped, pulling his jacket off desperately. "That's what they call you now. You were mine once. My baby. My love. My Snake. Mine."

Ferrigo could only pant, gasp and cry in the moments and hours that followed, as Voodoo's hunger consumed them both. Her tears frequently mixed with his, her sorrow mixed with outrageous passion. Their shared screams wound down a few days later, the refrigerator stock emptied of food and beverage. Emptied bottles of wine from Corellia and Zeltros and finished hors d' oeuvres trays littered the kitchen counter.

Ferrigo gathered himself together slowly. And with no small amount of sorrow and guilt for what they had just done and what he could not bring himself to do.

"Relia," Ferrigo said softly, his lower lip trembling. "I feel like I've dishonored you, and Tyro."

"He wasn't a man anymore, Ferrigo." Relia responded gravely. "Tyro couldn't give me a child. After we butted heads about that, he didn't like my independent streak," she gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes. "He couldn't love me the way you did. He...tore me down."

Ferrigo felt the air leave his lungs. He inhaled deeply and rubbed under his right eye. "You made a choice. You were my first, Voodoo. You knew you were going to marry him. And still you broke my heart." Ferrigo's tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"You dared me," Relia smiled through her own tears. "And I still love you, Snake Prosstang. I made a mistake." Relia Vu'udrel-Kels'mek touched his face and then reached for Ferrigo's hands. "The biggest mistake of my life, baby."

"I did too," Ferrigo gasped and sniffed. "I broke the trust of a friend. My best friend. And I've never been able to forgive myself. And now, I've only made matters worse."

"What in the name of Demagol are you talking about?! Tyro Kels'mek envied you! He didn't even have to hear it from me! There were others who talked about your exploits after he and I got married. And your daddy's money! He went on and on about how lucky you were!" her blue eyes were afire in the late-afternoon light cast through the window blinds. "And what a good kid you were! That ONLY made it worse!"

"You shouldn't love me, Relia," Ferrigo held up a finger. "I asked for your love. You made your choice. You should be mourning the loss of Tyro Kels'mek." Fully dressed, with a PSAM-Taddie pistol holstered under his jacket, he grabbed his tote bag and slung it over his right shoulder.

"He's gone." she said finally.

Ferrigo bit his lip and sorrowfully shook his head. "I am too." The entry door closed behind him as he departed. He thought he heard her shriek. He continued, leaving Voodoo, his first love. Again. In the afterglow of their desperate grief.

Done being played.

A Job Well Done - Meeting His Match (42 BBY)
Wearing his beskar'gam, with his helmet visor peering at him from the counter, Ferrigo had put aside lingering thoughts of Relia Kels'mek and their lost connection of almost a year before. Aside from Ferrigo's visit, she had not been seen nor heard from since the Galidraan debacle. He forgot loves past with the help of a few cups of Mandallian Narcolethe at the Creaking Door Cantina on Concord Dawn. The lighting was rather poor in this dive. And the automated music player had a horrible selection, but Ferrigo was fine with it. His thoughts instead drifted to the few weeks he had just spent relaxing with members of the clans Prosstang, Ordo and Skirata at the Hunting Lodges of the Grains. Arriving just halfway through the annual hunt held there prior to the harvest, he and Taybe Sikku, of the Clan Skirata, tied for most animals caught with eighteen. Ferrigo also won the title of Huntmaster of the Grains, after leading a team in tracking and trapping a rancor that was set loose on the plains 10 kilometers from the hunting lodges. He decapitated the beast with his family's replica of the original darksaber.

His hand reached down reflexively to touch the Pross'kad, now holstered on his left hip, as he drank more of the dark, syrupy liquor. More recent flashbacks played in his mind.

The wild partying of the past weekend concluded the hunt, and included many couplings among the unmarried Mandalorians at the gathering in the form of ritual contests of endurance and skill. Ferrigo's participation in these couplings with young female warriors gained him notoriety for his constitution and diversity of techniques. But most importantly, he met the black-haired, brown-eyed beauty Alor'akada Neviik the night before. They had consumed each other in a demonstration of vigor that frightened the other contestants.

Alor'akada, or Lorakada, was a native of Concord Dawn and was a distant relative within the Clan Prosstang. Arriving at the Hunting Lodges a few days after Ferrigo had, the diminutive Mandalorian woman had been a savage contestant during the hunts. Killing those animals she trapped, and smearing her face with the blood of her kills whenever Ferrigo was present. Ferrigo had been taken aback, but when challenged to a ritual contest by the Orikih Terochii, or "Tiny Pitiless One," he accepted. She was even more savage in this particular clash with Ferrigo, but he was more than equal to unlock her defenses and ultimately quench her flames. At the end, they were both devastated and exhausted, receiving cheers, laughter and glasses of tihaar on their mutual agreement to disengage from the contest...both sharing in victory.

He smiled at these very fresh memories, but a pang of sorrow lingered as he thought about the sweetness of Relia, and all they had shared in that weekend a year ago. But he had heard that Relia had either died or was taken into slavery for Tyro's unpaid debts. Jaster Mereel would have counseled him to steer clear. Jango would repeat Mereel's words. "Don't make a bed you won't sleep in."

Ferrigo regarded the small holopad in his left hand, a rotating icon surounded with lettering in both Aurebesh and Mando'a. It read ''Required: Two Parties for Shipment Status Qualification - Verify and Return. Port of Call: Nar Shaddaa. Payment negotiable in equivalency to 60,000 Republic Dataries''. Most certainly a Hutt job, and almost certainly a spice shipment 'delayed' from its arrival. He smiled, having already sent his bounty agent authentication code to accept the job. ''Easy money and big payout...but who is the second party? Might have to wait until Nar Shaddaa to find that out, Pross.''

The door to the cantina swung open with a loud creak and a small cloud of dirt and grit entered and settled with the louder clatter of the door slamming closed on its own. A crunch of small boots on the chiseled and dirt covered duracrete floor moved closer toward him. A woman's voice whispered loudly behind his ears. "You after a shipment of spice taken from Anurgga the Hutt?"

Ferrigo turned slowly, closing his holopad. "Who's asking?"

"Last night's winner," the young woman responded. "You handled yourself well."

"I could say the same for you," Ferrigo replied and raised his hand slightly to buy more time to add a thought. "I mean, I also handled you well."

"So it is true, your ego is as large as the known galaxy," Lorakada sat on the stool immediately to Ferrigo's right, shaking her head slightly with a half-smile. She unclipped her helmet from her belt and sat it on the counter.

"Not as large as my cantina tab, though," Ferrigo paused and called out toward the barkeep. "Hey, Polli - please get this young lady a glass of cold Narcolethe." The Aqualish barkeep set two glasses of Narcolethe on the bar.

"I'm no lady, and why would you think I like Narcolethe?" Lorakada said with an edge of humor mixed with irritation.

Ferrigo gathered himself quickly in response and said firmly in a low tone. "You'll do fine.  You're looking at your future Aliit'alor. And I will exercise the Right to Primacy to claim you. And...Mandallian Narcolethe will do fine. Even for a Nite Owl."

"Yeah, I'm a Nite Owl. I like to fly...Right to Primacy?" Lorakada looked at him with a slightly menacing glare, adjusting her gauntlets.

"You'd better not be Death Watch, Orikih Terochii," he continued. "As a member of the Clan Prosstang, you will serve at my pleasure when I am Chieftain. And I think you will do well by me."

"We have a job to do, Ferrigo Prosstang. Think you can keep your beskar'gaika on?" Neviik challenged.

Ferrigo smiled. "Absolutely."

...

Marriage of Ferrigo & Lorakada
Though Ferrigo and Lorakada would have preferred a small ceremony, his parents insisted on a large wedding on Concordia with many guests, including representatives from many of the Mandalorian clans, the Republic Senate, the Mining Guild, the Commerce Guild, Techno Union, InterGalactic Banking Clan and Trade Federation. As the reception wound down, and Lorakada was talking with other guests, he was approached by an older gentleman who had earlier introduced himself as Jedi Master Dooku.

"Again, congratulations on your nuptials," the tall, greying Jedi dressed in a dark robe and suit of fine fabric smiled.

Ferrigo nodded politely. "Thank you. Master...Dooku?" He looked around for a moment and returned his attention to the rather intense gaze of this guest.

"Yes, I am Jedi Master Dooku," the man's bearded smile had an air of grimness. "I am impressed,"

Ferrigo glanced away again for a moment. "With?"

Dooku started with a short sniff and expansion of his chest. "A handsome man with a beautiful young wife. You are to become leader of your clan, as well the chief executive of an industrial firm with growing influence beyond the Outer Rim," the older man leaned in slightly. "As Count of Serenno, I may be able to be of some help to you in securing rights for mining and locating manufacturing facilities."

"My father handles these matters," Prosstang said, firmly indicating his present disinterest in talking business.

"I believe your father may already be too deep in the sway of the politics of the Core Systems to be sensitive to the more modest means of those systems in the Outer Rim," the Jedi seemed to Ferrigo to be stretching beyond his neutrality, to which Prosstang had understood Jedi to be rooted. "I also hear you were quite lucky to survive Galidraan. I was led to believe that Jango Fett was the only Mandalorian to survive that sad affair."

Ferrigo blurted. "What are you talking about?"

"Some of my fellow Jedi also survived that treacherous engagement, Lord Prosstang."

"The memory of what those Jedi did will not fade, Master Dooku."

"My former Padawan learner, Qui-Gon Jinn, and I have come to believe that it was a most unwise decision of the Jedi Council to support Galidraan's corrupt governor." Dooku was firm, and despite Ferrigo's developing unease with the tall Jedi, he felt himself agreeing with a nod.

But he could not resist the opportunity to follow up on Dooku's contribution to the conversation. "Fett and his warriors were set up by Death Watch, a terrorist group. Death Watch executed civilians in the streets. Was your former Padawan one of the Jedi on Galidraan?"

Dooku sighed. "I cannot say for sure. The Jedi are not always keepers of the peace - in fact, we are sometimes the pawns of dubious claimants of raw power."

"I can't disagree," Ferrigo sounded pleased.

Dooku's eyebrow raised slightly. The conversation continued, but Ferrigo provided no more detail nor information about Jango Fett. Primarily because he didn't sense that he could fully trust the old Jedi. But also because Prosstang didn't know any more than a Sundari droid repair technician about Fett's whereabouts. Before his gracious departure, Dooku stated that he might wish to contact Ferrigo in the future about business matters.

The Ropes of Business
For the next four years, Ferrigo reasserted himself to learn and grow in responsibility as the future head of Prosstang Industries. He sought as much information as he could about the business and its business partners. Though he had a head for business, he maintained connections to his cousins and occasionally carried out short-term contracts as a gun-for-hire. He shared his concerns with Jannigo and Crack-Shot Ordo about the corporate corruption of the Commerce Guild, and the extent of its reach. After a long discussion, they agreed that despite their own ransoming by the Commerce Guild, that the CG could be an excellent source for future mercenary work.

 The Company Man, the Death of Q'osstigo and Birth of Children (38 - 33 BBY)

Company Man
Prosstang Industries had been increasingly successful in securing mining rights agreements outside of Mandalore during the period between 43 BBY and 38 BBY, including the lucrative ores of Bandomeer. Ferrigo had settled into his role as Chief Operating Officer of Prosstang Industries, while obtaining and completing contract work as a bounty hunter and occasional mercenary and trainer for short-term engagements. He and Lorakada became parents in 39 BBY, to their first daughter, Hand'alora.

Death of Q'osstigo
After an extended lobbying visit to Coruscant, Q'osstigo and Rappretto Prosstang returned to the Prosstang Estate. In their Prosstang Castle suite, Q’osstigo told his wife, Signara, that he did not feel well. Within a day, he was unable to leave his bed. Ferrigo returned from vacation with Lorakada and the baby to find Q'osstigo pale, trembling and withdrawn. Q'osstigo shared a few words with Ferrigo and perished, having acknowledged Ferrigo as the Chief Executive Officer of Prosstang Industries and as Leader of the Clan Prosstang. The same condition had struck Rappretto, and his wife passed news from the Prosstang Palace that her husband, Jannigo’s father, had died from a mysterious and uncharted illness.

Ferrigo called for a coroner to conduct autopsies. Neither of the autopsies was conclusive. By Mando’a custom, Ferrigo accepted the bundle of family and clan artifacts from his father's oldest surviving sister, Juu’hiik Prosstang-Regg, as Rappretto was the last of his uncles, the others having died within the last five years. A short time later, the largely-attended joint memorial for Q'osstigo and Rappretto was held, attended by representatives of most Clan Prosstang families in the Mandalorian Sector, as well as all of the Mandalorian nobility including the young leader of the New Mandalorian government, Duchess Satine Kryze, and her younger siblings, Bo-Katan Kryze and Koku-Pelff Kryze. Members of the Republic Senate in the Outer Rim, Mandalorian clans, Commerce Guild, Techno Union and Trade Federation were also present to offer condolences.

Satine touched Ferrigo's shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ferrigo. I too lost my father. You shall soon be titled as Baron Prosstang, as your father and grandfathers were before you.”

“They…were…” Ferrigo couldn't finish his thought without a catch in his breath, stifling tears.

“Duchess, our fathers were murdered!” Jannigo Prosstang burst into their conversational space after listening, wound tight.

Satine snapped. “Jannigo Prosstang, that can’t be possible on Mandalore!”

“Duchess, we believe they were both poisoned during their business trip to the Core Worlds. They died later at the Prosstang Estate,"  Ferrigo sighed, looking at Satine and then the marbled floor before them. "The coroner assigned from Central Intelligence Forensic Investigations in Sundari turned up nothing.”

Jannigo placed his hands on his hips. “We won’t rest, your Highness," his left formed a point, in the Duchess Satine's direction. "We will take matters into our own hands if we need to.”

“Violence is not the answer, Jannigo. Rappretto and Q’osstigo Prosstang were good men. Good Mandalorians. You and your cousin shall carry forward their titles and reputations," Satine proferred. "Do not spoil their memories by bringing shameful violence to our homeworlds.”

“Your Highness," Ferrigo regained his composure with an edge of firm bitterness. "You know that we hold our privileges in high regard. But as leaders of the Clan Prosstang, we cannot rest until justice has been done.” The new Aliit'alor Prosstang pulled his lips tightly closed and shook his head slightly with eyes turned to the floor again.

Bo-Katan Kryze, young, thin, and the red-haired sister of Satine, staggered into the group. Jannigo seemed to have seen her approach, but said nothing until the strong smell of tihaar pushed Ferrigo's spine into a proper vertical alignment. The frown crossing the face of the Duchess was remarkable, but neither Ferrigo nor Jannigo said anything. Then Bo-Katan's storm began. She leaned in toward Jannigo and Ferrigo and growled. “Me’vaar ti gar? Her? She’ll do NOTHING. The chakaare that did this to your fathers? She won’t raise a finger. OUR father DIED. At the hands of foreign beasts with common blades.”

Satine snapped again, but with an edge of anger. “Enough!”

“MAKE. ME. STOP.” Bo-Katan pointed at Satine as she issued her ultimatum after straightening up, her legs slightly apart and shoulders opened.

Ferrigo said calmly. “Jan’k, please take Bo'ka for a walk.”

“Elek.” Jannigo nodded. For a moment, given his cousin's seeming comfort in the placement of his hands around the fiery red-head, Ferrigo considered whether or not Jannigo had ever made good on his intention to snare Bo-Katan. She had developed a reputation that had not quite exceeded that of Relia Vu'udrel-Kels'mek.

Bo-Katan shouted toward the ceiling with a raised fist as she was escorted by Jannigo toward the exit. “K'oyacyi, Mando’ade!! I’ll be with YOU!!”

“I wish she wouldn’t act like that.” Satine said wistfully.

“She has your father’s Mando’karla spirit,” Ferrigo observed.

Satine's voice filled with derision. “She is reckless! Our people cannot fight. My father did not fight. You speak for 'The Faithful', the cause of the clan wars we're suffering from now.”

Ferrigo lifted his palms slightly. “Maybe I do count myself among the Aka'liit, The Faithful. But Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett and I have never sought to start wars among our people to push for conquest," he continued. "Further, I don't see the point in turning our homes into smoldering ruins. We can fight away from home, those warriors who believe in the Supercommando Codex."

"But you're fighting here at home, now!" Satine blurted. "You can't fight violence with violence. It only escalates our troubles! I find your ways of embracing violence and conflict deeply distasteful," pointing a finger at Ferrigo. "Can you answer this for me, Ferrigo Prosstang? That neither you nor your comrades killed my father?”

Ferrigo took a deep breath, looking around the room to see the general discomfort among the guests of the memorial. “We are at my father and uncle's memorial," he took a deeper breath and pursed his lips tightly before speaking again. "Two things, your Highness. If you want to know who killed your father, I can find out. You should know that I protect those people and assets I care about. By any means necessary."

Her voice calmer, Satine pressed further, looking into Ferrigo's eyes. She was being sincere. "I’m sorry, I lost my composure," she looked around before continuing almost in a whisper. "How can you say you support the New Mandalorian government when I've made it abundantly clear that peace and non-violence are the only way to stability?"

"Signara Prosstang is one of your key cabinet advisors. My father..." Ferrigo paused. "I am now chief executive of one of Mandalore's leading industrial concerns with a long history of collaboration with your predecessors since the Excision seven hundred years ago. Prosstang Industries has a reach into over twenty star systems outside of Mandalorian space. Stability of your government is good business, and has ever been the charge of Clan Prosstang since the days of Jelkiga Prosstang-Velrrus. Don't insult me by lumping me and those I lead into the same class as the radicals."

"Again, I am sorry, Baron Prosstang." Satine said with contrition.

"If you, Bo-Katan and your brother need protection, I can arrange it. Whether you know it or not, I have already foiled two attempts on your life in the last three months, and five over the last five years," Prosstang said evenly. "I believe bringing the Jedi and the Republic here is unnecessary, and will only make matters worse in the long run. Your ministers gossip too much."

"The Jedi will be arriving within the week."

"Fine," Ferrigo shook his head. "I just want to find whoever is responsible for my father’s and uncle’s deaths and help restore peace. If the Jedi get in my way or bring harm to my family, you will know about it. I will file a protest with the Ruling Council.”

Birth of Children
In the five years that followed, Ferrigo and Lorakada would have another three children after Handalora; Preniik, their first son, Noratine, their second daughter, and Jaster, their second son.

Staying Sharp (34 BBY)
Periodically, Ferrigo would accept high-end mercenary contracts, frequently subcontracting them to his cousins, Jannigo, Desh 'Crack-Shot' Ordo, Yomaget Tre'vhek, Arrif Bolts'kan, Tan'ek Trat'tu or another of the small number of remaining True Mandalorians. However, much of his time following his father's death was spent running Prosstang Industries. Many challenges would lie ahead n the world of business.

Lessons in Diplomacy
In the early part of 34 BBY, Ferrigo departed Mandalore for Coruscant as he did at least twice a year, to represent Prosstang Industries before the various commerce, industry and trade subcommittees of the Galactic Senate. This time, he was accompanied by Gela Tre'vhek, his aide. The majority of their trip had been shared with the Prosstang Industries freighter, Bralir, or 'success' in Mando'a. Their MandalMotors Aka'jor Class shuttle left the docking bay at the rear of the freighter once in orbit above Coruscant.

"Thank you for bringing me along on this trip to Coruscant, Aliit'alor," Gela said with a smile.

"Don't thank me...thank my wife," Ferrigo said humorlessly with a sidewise glance from the pilot's seat. "SHE was supposed to join me on this trip. But, she has mentioned that you were looking for experience in dealing with politicians on the big stage.  Aside from this being new territory for you, I'm not sure why you would want or need to deal with these people."

"Well, no disrespect, my Lord, but I am your aide. Don't you think it would make sense for me to be able to represent YOU and Prosstang Industries while you attend to other business?"

"In the four years you have served me at Prosstang Industries, Gela, you have always done what I've asked.  I appreciate that," Ferrigo stated evenly, then his voice caught a little, rising in tone. "But there is much you do that you haven't told me about...I know too, from talking with your cousin, Yomaget, that you are quite adept in combat. Hand-to-hand.  Melee weapons. Blasters. Gauntlets. Aerial tactics..." Ferrigo looked over to Gela inquisitively. "Have I covered everything? Are you holding back anything else?"

Gela was quiet, her mouth slightly ajar as she considered her next words. "No, Aliit'alor, but one thing. I wish to serve you...In every way."

Ferrigo's brow furrowed slightly. "You're doing fine."

Gela continued pensively. "I want you, Ferrigo.  I want you to exercise the Right of Primacy historically held by clan chieftains.  I want to...mate with you."

It took Prosstang several seconds to recover his voice after a sudden bout of coughing. "Well," he cleared his throat finally. "That isn't going to happen.  I am a family man, Gela."

"I want a family, too, my Lord. I want you to sire my children," Gela said, somewhat pleadingly.

"Alor'akada has put you up to this...hasn't she?  Another test?" Ferrigo turned his head slightly toward Gela. "Tell her.  I am a one woman man.  I love our children, and I love her.  I don't want ANY one else.  For the sake of Kad Ha'rangir, she's carrying our fourth child."

Gela's expression tightened as she continued her pleading quietly, in a slightly quivering voice. "Nobody has to know, Ferrigo."

"Drop it. This conversation is over," Ferrigo said sternly in a low tone, before continuing with a slight grit. "You had better keep your head together on Corsuscant...Yomaget brought me your beskar'gam and it's loaded in the hold.  We have a bounty to take, and you're going to be the bait."

Being wary of Gela and her attention most of the trip to Coruscant, especially during the logistics of getting showered and changed alone in the refresher, Ferrigo felt exhausted as he landed his personal craft on the deck. Obtaining clearance from the Galactic Senate Guard flight authority was a breeze compared to his consideration of his administrative aide.

As the ramp lowered to the Galactic Senate landing deck below, Gela turned to Ferrigo as if to say something. He raised his index finger between them. "You came here to learn about politicians on Coruscant. I am your boss. I am your Chieftain.  Observe, and be quiet, unless I ask you to speak up."

"Yes, my Lord," Gela responded, and followed a step behind and to the left of her Aliit'alor as they were escorted by two Senate Guards, each wearing a flowing deep blue robe, topped with a somewhat conical helmet festooned with plumage. Their appearance, and countenance was indeed impressive and Gela expressed as much to Ferrigo.

The guard to the left turned slightly to Ferrigo and spoke as they neared the entrance to the rotunda from the landing bays. "Baron and Lady Prosstang.  I'm Sergeant Faro Argyus. Your Senate Guard escort during your time here," the man, whose visible fair features and demeanor spoke of noblesse, prepared to continue before Ferrigo interrupted.

"Sergeant Argyus, this is my executive aide, Ms. Gela Tre'vhek."

"Please accept my apologies," Argyus offered evenly, not sounding embarrassed. "If you have any questions, don't hesitate to use this comm device to ring me up."

"We will. Thank you, Sergeant," Ferrigo turned to Gela and took her hand as they crossed the threshold into the Grand Concourse of the Senate Rotunda, which was much warmer than the slight winter chill outside. Climate control of the greatest ecumenopolis in galactic history had not been perfected.

Within moments, Ferrigo and his aide were approached by a corpulent blue-skinned male Rutian Twi'lek and two pale pink-skinned female Lethan Twi'leks. "Ferrigo Prosstang of Mandalore, and...Prosstang Industries.  Ahhhhhh....and who is this?" The male Twi'lek made a referencing gesture to Gela.

"Senator Orn Free Taa...this is Ms. Tre'vhek, my executive aide," Ferrigo turned back to the Twi'leks after regarding Gela for a moment.

"Very pretty, Baron Prosstang.  Perhaps we can discuss increasing your firm's presence in Lohemaryll," the large Twi'lek smiled and winked.

"Perhaps we can.  Do you know where we are supposed to meet, Senator Taa?"

"Yes, at the office suite of Senator Palpatine of Naboo.  They are waiting for us," Taa said with some concern in his voice.

"Everyone is ready to discuss the issues?" Ferrigo stifled his distasteful memory of his last meeting with Senator Palpatine so many years before, and gathered Gela to begin to walk with Taa around the Rotunda Grand Concourse. "Taxation of trade shipments along the Hydian Way?"

"Well...I am a little disappointed, frankly," Ryloth's senator lamented. "I thought we would be joined by the Jedi Master Dooku.  He was to have introduced the possible inclusion of Serenno in the league of systems committed to free trade we have been considering."

"I thought Jedi were only responsible to the Jedi Council, and the Galactic Senate.  But Serenno is right there on the Hydian."

"Baron Prosstang. You can say nothing about what I am about to tell you," Orn Free Taa continued cautiously, leaning toward Ferrigo. "I have heard Dooku has been considering leaving the Jedi Order to take up his family's birthright to lead Serenno."

"Who would tell you such a thing, Senator?" Ferrigo caught with a slight backward glance Gela's expression of deep concentration. He returned his full attention to Taa and his attendants as they continued through the concourse.

Taa spread his hands momentarily. "I...cannot say.  But it is becoming common knowledge that systems like Serenno have been hurting from lack of access to safe and free trade. Mandalore can't be doing too good either, no?"

Gela spoke up. "We have been suffering through a civil war, on and off."

Ferrigo cast a quick and sharp glance at Gela. Her blue eyes flashed back and she offered a slight shrug as Orn Free Taa stroked his chin and spoke. "Similar circumstances for Ryloth, as you are surely aware, Baron Prosstang.  I thank you and Prosstang Industries for your continued investment.  And security.  Most Twi'lek are peaceful and industrious."

"Most certainly, Senator Taa. Our company policy under my direction has been to hire local talent to ensure the best possible productivity and morale," Ferrigo said plainly, as he made note of beings they passed on their way to the suite of Senator Palpatine.

Soon, Senator Taa, Ferrigo and Gela were joined by a human male with gaunt, pointed facial features and a black, flowing satiny robe and a rather tall hat that covered his ears past the shoulders. "Senator Taa, Baron Prosstang, Baroness Prosstang...I must ask you to join me, the meeting has begun," the man said as politely as he could with a tone of anxiousness. "I am Sate Pestage."

"Yes, I remember you from a meeting well over ten years ago, Pestage. This is Gela Tre'vhek, my executive aide," Ferrigo yielded a glance to Gela as they walked more quickly to their destination, with Orn Free Taa gasping and muttering as he began to trail behind a step or two.

"My apologies for mistaking you, Ms. Tre'vhek," Pestage turned and nodded as they continued their rapid pace. Momentarily, Ferrigo noted a brief tint of displeasure in Pestage's voice. "Senator Taa, you will be happy to know that the suite has been supplied with a variety of delicacies inluding braised mynock wings."

"Ahhhh," Taa expressed his delight and playfully scolded their escort. "None for you, Pestage!"

"No," Pestage stood at the side of the open door to the Chommel Sector-Naboo Senator's suite to their left and offered a wan smile and nod as his guests entered. "Certainly not."

Ferrigo and Gela found themselves amid a gathering, and he removed his durafelt hat, handing it to an attendant. Some familiar to Ferrigo from business dealings, others unknown. "Magistrate Argente," Ferrigo raised his voice, and with a chide. "Staying out of trouble, I hope?" Gela seemed taken aback by Ferrigo's informality.

"Never," Passel Argente murmured with a rasp and smile. The leader of the Corporate Alliance and chief executive of Lethe Merchandising was a Koorivar, his skin a mottle of light and dark colors. Gela seemed transfixed in a gaze at the cranial appendage that rose from the top of the Koorivar's head. Argente was garbed in a generous expanse of brilliant orange and burgundy colored fabric about this body and head. His smile fading slightly, Magistrate Argente briefly extended his hand to hold Ferrigo's shoulder and spoke directly to him, quietly before turning to find a seat at the conference table. "I hope you are finding your way into  to the Inner Rim markets, Baron Prosstang. The cold reach of taxation is coming to the Outer Rim."

Ferrigo felt the brush of a hand across the back of his shoulders, and turned to look, doing a double-take to catch the tentacled equivalent smile of Senator Tikkes. Tikkes was a male Quarren representing the Mon Calamari system - and once considered an unscrupulous entrepreneur. "Ferrigo...Baron of Prosstang...son of Mandalore, good to see you," Tikkes said warmly as he continued toward the rear of the suite, where Prosstang could see Senator Palpatine of Naboo motioning for guests to approach and be seated at a large conference table. Ferrigo considered that despite his reputation, Tikkes had been a good friend of his father's and a great help to him in smoothing out the permitting and shipments of materiel for the repair and building of commercial and residential facilities on at the Prosstang Industries Citadel on Iceberg-III.

"Ferrigo Solus, Baron of Prosstang," a somewhat sultry female voice issued from behind him. He turned his head left to see Gela, appearing very slightly annoyed with a gleam in her eyes for the owner of the voice. Ferrigo turned fully to find a tall, shapely woman with long, red hair, green eyes and attractive facial features. Her yellow shimmersilk dress was simple but elegant.

"I am. And you are?" Ferrigo extended his hand to take the woman's hand in his, raising it to his lips for a courtesy kiss.

"Sanya, Baroness House Tagge of Tepasi," the woman obliged and bowed slightly to Ferrigo.

Ferrigo sensed that his administrative aide was becoming uncomfortable. He slowly lowered and released the Baroness Tagge's hand and turned to introduce Gela. "This is Ms. Tre'vhek, my administrative aide," Gela slightly cleared her throat.

"Charmed," the Baroness Tagge smiled, offering her hand for Gela to kiss.

"Attention, it is time to get to our business," Senator Orn Free Taa called out loudly. "Senator Palpatine of Naboo has less than half an hour until he is to speak on the Senate floor about the proposed taxation of trade routes in the Outer Rim." Gela did not accept Baroness Tagge's hand, and instead took a seat along the wall to the left side of the conference table. Ferrigo escorted Baroness Tagge to an open seat at the table before taking a seat for himself a few chairs away near the center of the left side. The attendees introduced themselves briefly, stating only name and affiliation, then the senator from Naboo spoke up.

"Thank you, Senators and stakeholders. Sate, please close the doors," Senator Palpatine, his hair less deeply red since their last meeting in 47 BBY, wore a deep blue embroidered and formed cloak to accentuate his arms and neck. "You have come together to discuss the rather important matter of taxation of trade routes being proposed by Bail Antilles of Alderaan.  It has found a second from the Senator from Tepasi," Ferrigo noticed Palpatine glancing past him toward Sanye Tagge. "Perhaps this issue needs to be raised.  The lack of executive direction from the Galactic Senate and the continued instability and insecurity of trade routes..." Palpatine trailed off, gazing out the large window of the suite, perhaps at the streams of traffic visible at mid-level of the Senate Building.

"The Trade Federation will not stand for taxation," Senator Lott Dod, the Neimoidian representing the Trade Federation spoke tersely, pressing his broad-tipped finger into the table. "We have been providing the life-blood of the Republic, for well over a century. And we have been under attack, in the very hyperspace lanes we navigated and recorded, and in the Senate Chamber." Ferrigo watched Senator Palpatine move, seemingly in deep contemplation along the window. Senator Dod continued. "Only recently, one of our Lucrehulk-class freighters was destroyed by pirates - and NOTHING has been done by the Republic to address this terrorism. No Jedi dispatched. No investigation."

"Sounds like the Trade Federation needs to beef up security," Ferrigo stated plainly across the table to Senator Dod. "...again." Ferrigo gazed at Palpatine, whose back had been turned to the conference table.

The Naboo Senator turned around and shared a gaze with Ferrigo for a second, and then strode toward the table apprising the rest of the guests as he spoke evenly. "I believe we can all appreciate your grave concerns, Senator Dod.  The matter at hand is whether or not the flow of goods from the Outer Rim will continue in the face of three challenges."bor

Senator Taa spoke up. "Palpatine, you must tell us. The third challenge? First is the Trade Federation being able to protect its goods. Second is the ability of the Republic to provide real value for taxation where there is no standing army. What is the third?"

"Dear Senator Taa. I believe you have misunderstood the challenges presented by the current set of circumstances," Palpatine softly chided with his index finger as he continue to move toward the Twi'lek at the head of the table. "The challenges are more fundamental in nature," Palpatine turned and began to walk behind those seated on the right side of the table. "There is indeed a distaste for raising a standing army, Senator Taa. There has never been a substantial effort to explore such an undertaking in the history of the Republic. Though I do believe we may find it necessary to do so, I myself have misgivings about...raising a standing army.  The costs of recruiting, training and providing shelter and sustenance for an army would most certainly bankrupt the Republic.  And who among us here...many of you in the so-called 'Rim Faction'...are prepared to levy taxes on your citizens and businesses to fund an army of the Republic to protect the free trade most of us can heartily agree is necessary for the prosperity of our home systems?"

"We are happy to have our own planetary security," Baroness Sanya Tagge caught Ferrigo's attention. "There is no need to raise a standing army for the Republic. The Trade Federation might benefit from being allowed to raise its limit on security personnel, much as we handle our own."

Ferrigo leaned forward in his chair. "I can't speak for the Mandalore's government, but in the interests of ensuring the safe and secure transport of our goods and the goods of other concerns providing fair compensation, we maintain a security force." Ferrigo saw the corners of Senator Palpatine's mouth turn upward slightly.

Lott Dod blurted, forcefully pounded the table. "Then this group must support an increase in the number of security droids we may have!"

Ferrigo shook his head. "No way. We shouldn't be supporting more droids for security...or combat," he continued after casting a gaze across the gathering. "Mechanised terror is a tool we can't afford to give tyrants."

"Wh--- Are you calling the Trade Federation tyrants, Prosstang!?!" Senator Dod was nearly glowing with rage.

"That's Baron Prosstang, Senator Dod," Ferrigo said evenly, and stood from his chair, spreading his hands to make a point. "The use of living assets in securing and maintaining the peace ensures that the terms of peace are earned and balanced with a respect for freedom and liberty. For those whose lives and rights are protected, for those whose interests are staked as leaders of government and commerce, and for those who themselves protect the peace."

"Well said, Baron Prosstang," Palpatine said, regarding Ferrigo fully. Ferrigo felt uncomfortable for a moment, and then sat down. "Our future Senator from Mandalore, perhaps," Palpatine smiled tartly, turned and walked amid the low din of muffled laughter that Ferrigo allowed himself to enjoin. Palpatine reached the seat of the Senate representative from Muunilinst at the end of the table nearest the door. "That is your third challenge, Senator Taa.  Baron Prosstang has laid it out for you.  The rights of those protected, and how they are defined.  Is it enough to protect corporate free trade where citizens are treated by their governments contrarily to the tenets of the Republic and democracy itself? Will the prosperity from trade continue to improve and maintain freedoms enjoyed by the citizens of our Grand Republic?"

"Okay, Palpatine, what are you going to say on the floor?" Orn Free Taa asked impatiently. "Are you going to represent the interests of the Mid- and Outer-Rims?"

Senator Palpatine pursed his lips, smiling slightly before speaking. "In Ars Veruna, our King, Naboo has no interest in expanding the authority of the Republic to affect by fact or shadow to occupy our homeworld, awaiting a phantom menace to our enjoyment of peace. The Chommel Sector as a whole is of a similar mind in this matter.  However, other sectors might be of an entirely different mind due to the harsh realities of constant harrassment by pirates and other outlaws.  I can appreciate both points of view.  I will be speaking for my people today. I can assure you that Supreme Chancellor Valorum knows of your concerns.

"I appreciate hearing your thoughts and concerns," Palpatine began to motion toward the door to the suite. "I feel better prepared for my time on the floor, which is shortly. Now, if you would all please excuse me." Palpatine smiled at Ferrigo and nodded with a slight tilt of the head to suggest he join the Senator from Naboo in his walk. The rest of the gathered senators and commercial representatives left their chairs, many of them beginning or resuming conversations. As the attendant gave him his hat, Ferrigo briefly caught a glance from Baroness Sanya Tagge and they exchanged a smile before he joined Senator Palpatine.

Gela was soon near her clan chieftain's side in the Grand Concourse. The Senator spoke without looking at Prosstang. "Very wise words, Baron Prosstang. The Mandalore system could use a voice of reason like yours.  You do know, the Senate representative from Mandalore is considering stepping down, don't you?"

"I have not heard that...but to be honest, Senator, I'm not sure living like a bureaucrat is where I want to be," Ferrigo offered guilelessly. "But I know of many qualified candidates."

"Suit yourself, Baron Prosstang.  Your father...would be proud. But, I am sure you have your hands full. Good day." Palpatine bowed very slightly with a nod, and turned to enter his Rotunda Suite. After the door closed behind the senator from Naboo, Ferrigo turned to Gela, and they began walking back toward the transportation bays.

Gela was somewhat excited...or flustered, Ferrigo couldn't tell quite which. "Yes, Gela. What is it?"

Before Gela could respond, the rather statuesque Baroness Sanya Tagge strode in to Ferrigo's right side, with a bright smile. "Baron Prosstang, I am sorry we didn't have the opportunity to be properly introduced."

"Well," Ferrigo smiled, turning slightly to Baroness Tagge without breaking stride. "I thought we were very well introduced. But I'm Mandalorian, so my manners might be a bit crude."

Baroness Tagge smiled, and maintained the pace, seeming to notice that Gela was laboring slightly. "We could get together for the Republic Founders Annual Gala reception. It's tomorrow evening."

"Sorry, Gela, I'll slow a little," Ferrigo noticed Gela on his left, lightly labored in her breathing. He turned to Sanye Tagge. "I'm not much for parties, Baroness.  I prefer action," Gela coughed loudly, barely covering her mouth with her left hand as Ferrigo felt the bottom side of her right hand sharply bounce into his side. "And I already have a number of appointments to keep during my time here."

"I would really like to talk with you more," the Baroness Tagge, perhaps unwittingly, tucked her lower lip for a moment under her teeth. "What you said was very powerful. I do believe you would make an excellent senator."

"Yeah," Gela chirped. "Baron Prosstang is full of it....power, that is." Ferrigo cast a sidewise glance at Gela.

Ferrigo cleared his throat, and as they continued around the Grand Concourse, he gently jabbed his left elbow at Gela's right arm as he turned to address Sanya Tagge. "Thank you, I'm flattered, my Lady. And I do appreciate the offer to join you at the reception. Perhaps we can meet another time; and I'll meet Baron Tagge."

"I would very much like that, Baron Prosstang,...but I am sure the Baron will not attend. He does not care much for...affairs of state." Sanya Tagge said with gentle flash of her blue eyes. If interrogated, Ferrigo would have to admit that the Baroness Tagge was among the most beautiful women he'd seen in the last ten years. But he was happily married. And already reeling a bit from his administrative aide's earlier confession on the shuttle ride from orbit.

Ferrigo could hear Gela growling with a blustering tone under her breath, but he responded. "Then you will have to visit my wife and I sometime. Do you have children? I can have Gela watch the kids." Gela coughed out loud, and Ferrigo offered a weak smile to the Baroness Tagge as he pressed the button on the comm given to him by the Senate guard. "Sergeant Argyus, we are nearing the transportation center and are ready for your escort."

"Yes, I do have children...Argyus?" Baroness Tagge asked with her eyes brightened. "That is a well-respected family on my home planet."

"I'm sure you two will have much to talk about," Ferrigo said with a warm smile, as he slowed to a stop in the concourse near the point at which Argyus earlier departed their company. "Good day, Baroness Tagge. It was a pleasure to meet you. If we should be available tomorrow evening, I will have Ms. Tre'vhek call your assistant.  Please don't be disappointed if we can't make it."

Baroness Tagge responded with a slight smile but dejected tone of voice. "You'll have to live with my disappointment then, Baron Prosstang."

Ferrigo smiled, took Gela's right elbow and gently turned her to begin walking as the Senate guards arrived to escort them. "Do you think we should go? To the reception?"

"I don't know, Baron Prosstang. That's a lot of woman for you to deal with," Gela continued, clearly irritated. "And I don't think Alor'akada would approve."

"Even if it meant improving the bottom line for Prosstang Industries?"

"My Lord, we both know what her bottom line is. Her bottom. Your line," Gela quipped, and she and Ferrigo couldn't stifle an outburst of laughter that echoed across the vast Grand Concourse, mixing with the din of conversations and the faint whines, hums and growls of idling, departing and arriving transports as they neared the portal.

"Baron Prosstang? I have heard that there is a gala celebration of the Founding of the Republic tomorrow evening," Sergeant Faro Argyus called from the rear of the Senate guard formation. "Do you wish to attend?"

"Actually, Sergeant, I just had to turn down an invitation from the ruler of your homeworld. Other matters to attend to during our stay. But you may take your leave to tell the Baroness Sanya Tagge that I suggested she be escorted by you."

Ferrigo exchanged a smile with Gela as they both crossed the threshold into the cool winter afternoon on the flight deck, escorted by the Senate guards...minus Sergeant Argyus, who might have followed Ferrigo's suggestion, or simply met the perimeter of his responsibilities and turned around. "You'd better protect me from the Baroness Tagges of the galaxy, Ms. Tre'vhek. I'm sure Alor'akada would expect it from you."

The Senate guards stopped, turned about and departed for the portal from which they escorted Gela and Ferrigo to their shuttle. As the ramp lifted and retracted, Gela turned to Ferrigo with a glimmer in her eyes, looking up at him. "Who will protect me from you, Ferrigo?" Gela quickly reached behind Ferrigo's neck and pulled him down into a full kiss, holding his face.

Ferrigo was stunned, and confused, feeling pleasure at Gela's kiss, but revulsion for what it was. A violation of his love for Alor'akada. He pulled himself away, and pushed Gela back slightly, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his coat. "That was uncalled for, Ms. Tre'vhek," Ferrigo said without humor. "We have a job to do over the next few days. Get strapped in."

A Test of Loyalty
Ferrigo gently tapped Gela's helmet with his fingertip. And repeated his whispered words into the audio transmitter of his helmet, set on a secure channel only shared with Gela. "Wake up, sunshine." Gela stirred, her neck lifting up slightly. Ferrigo continued with a low, steady monotone. "You did very well in flushing out the Neimoidian yesterday evening, Gela. This evening, we have our target. And this job is wet," Ferrigo's voice trailed with a little exertion as he fastened a scope to a rather compact carbine laser rifle. "You're gonna do this hit. And you're gonna do it clean. One shot."

"My Lord, all I did was say that the Mandalorian was going to spill the Felucian beans about the Lucrehulk incident," Gela said on the secure channel, unheard outside of her helmet. And Ferrigo's. They were both laying on their stomachs in full Mandalorian beskar'gam. Ferrigo handed the carbine parallel and over Gela's jetpack to her right side before setting it down. The rangefinder arm on Ferrigo's helmet swung forward and up into vertical position. Gela's rangefinder soon raised out of its housing. "And why me? You're a better shot. You have to be."

"Don't fret, Gela. Pick it up and get the target scoped. You will just need to pull the trigger when the time comes...when the target, a tall human arrives to talk with the Neimoidian on the walkway around the building," Ferrigo observed the target zone, clicking his tongue in his teeth to activate a variety of features in his heads up display, or HUD. "Tell me what you see."

"I see a rather tall man....ohhhh...fier...fek....osik'la shebse...." Gela's helmet turned slightly toward Ferrigo, more out of habit and effect than need, since both Ferrigo and Gela's helmet sensors and rangefinder-mounted camera arrays provided them with enough data in their HUDs to keep track of each other. "I can't do this!"

"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.  You can, and you will. Or this will be your day," Ferrigo said coldly. He didn't particularly like working like this, but it was one of the realities of bounty hunting and mercenary work. His plan had to succeed.

Gela's next words were obviously strained through gritted teeth. "Baron Prosstang. I can't shoot my own cousin. You even said he provided you the beskar'gam I'm wearing."

"You're a professional, Gela. A Mando'ad. If you don't do it, someone else will..."

Gela began to set down the rifle. "Then someo-" Gela's words were interrupted as Ferrigo quickly slammed her helmet into the roof. She began to struggle, and Ferrigo quickly mounted her back, breaking and pocketing her rangefinder from her helmet, and deactivating her jetpack, pinning her arms down to her sides.

Ferrigo growled on the private channel. "You asked to come here. Now. Do. Your. Job." He was almost certain he heard low sobbing. "Strength, Gela. Where's the Mando'karla spirit? You want to be my consort? You will have to protect me from any threat - including your own flesh and blood." Ferrigo felt remorse for using Gela's confessed desire against her, but the job had to be done. Maybe as a teenager he would have had less qualms about his treatment of Gela. It was his training. Cold. Efficient. Mission-focused. No exceptions, no slack, or the risk of failure or death loomed. But now, in his mind, he saw the face of Qui-Gon Jinn. Why?

Gela shrugged under Ferrigo's weight and angrily muttered. "Get off!" Ferrigo did as she commanded, and squatted over her legs and rear, keeping a minimal profile, but able to see the Neimoidian pacing in the target zone. She readied the carbine with both hands, leaning up on her elbows. "Thanks for breaking my rangefinder, you di'kut," she continued icily.

"My cameras work fine, and that's all that counts. All the setups from yesterday have paid off.  From now on, you'd better follow orders, Tre'vhek."

"I'm doing the job. Be quiet." After about a quarter of a minute, a low pulsing puff and tight whine of noise emitted from the carbine, sending a bolt of red light into the back of Yomaget Tre'vhek, who collapsed forward and to the left. Gela cursed Ferrigo through gritted teeth.

Ferrigo saw everything unfolding, but to his suprise, his ears heard something he did not want to hear; and not Gela's curse. "It's Prosstang!" The Neimoidian pointed up toward the roost where Ferrigo squatted above Gela's prone form.

"Drop him! Now!" Ferrigo shouted. "Drop the grub!!"

Gela's second shot pierced the Neimoidian's neck and shattered material from the side of the building behind him in a cloud of dust. The Neimoidian crumpled to the walkway.

"Pack up, it's time to go!" Ferrigo barked, and lifted Gela's hips up from the roof, then scurried her away from the scene. Ferrigo's trot had become a jog, and Gela was lagging as he neared the opposite edge of the building's roof. He considered something, and had a dark thought. He didn't like to harbor such thoughts, but in situations like this, his training bit into him. Something Jaster Mereel taught him, and something that Jango Fett was much more comfortable doing. "Gela, take off, I need to weld the roof hatches!"

"Huh?!" Gela sounded confused. Ferrigo snatched the carbine rifle from her and slung it quickly into his back holster.

"GO!! Go, you di'kutla dala!!" Ferrigo yelled at her...hating himself inside. No witnesses.

Gela shifted her weight and began her lunge forward, off of the building. Her jetpack did not activate.

NO!

"GELA!!!!" Ferrigo cried, and whipped his right hand out as Gela's feet left the roof. Gela's terror-filled scream turned Ferrigo's sound system to screeching static. Gela's body turned slightly and pulled upward toward him, defying gravity. Her right hand was suddenly in reach. And Ferrigo grabbed it fiercely, with great strength he reeled her hand, forearm, chest and body fully onto his, allowing her weight to knock him off his feet. They landed on his left side and back.

Gela shrieked, cried and pounded her fists on Ferrigo for ten seconds before he could restrain her. "HOW DARE YOU!! I HATE YOU!! YOU ORI'OSIKLA DI'KUUUUUUUTTT!!!" After another half a minute, holding her tightly in his embrace, she sobbed weakly. "I trusted you, Aliit'alor. I ....trusted you...ner kar'ta..." she pulled off her helmet and continued to cry, and rap her knuckles softly on his beskar'gam chest plate.

Ferrigo realized he'd made a great mistake in accepting Gela along for this trip. Huge. He violated a trust. Gela wasn't Xossk. She wasn't Montross. And doing wet jobs was not his way. Not since his father died, and he took the reins of Prosstang Industries. As a corporate executive, he had to keep his hands clean. Using Gela as a sub to do a wet job for him seemed like a reasonable option the night before. Yomaget vouched for her skills. The fact that she had been under Ferrigo's nose for nearly five years as his executive aide, hiding her combat training and experience, bothered him.

Perhaps out of spite for Alor'akada's last minute evasion from what seemed like a solid, air-tight plan on this job, he reflexively punished Gela for her hesitation. He did have a job to do. He'd contracted for it. It would pay handsomely. Through Anurgga the Hutt, his old paymaster of the Besadii clan. He was pretty sure the Trade Federation was backing the deal. Alor'akada wouldn't have given a second thought to taking out a wet target. At times, that had bothered Ferrigo. Now, as he looked at Gela Tre'vhek in his arms, he realized he was no better than a beroya who took the wet jobs.

But it's what I am, a Mando'verd, a beroya. Maybe I'm Schingo Velrrus.

He finally mustered the courage to speak, but he measured his words, treading on a fine line as his own emotional state seemed to lack balance. He was feeling the need to console, even to love Gela. She had, even against her own wishes and judgment done as he commanded. She had in these moments showed a devotion he wasn't sure even Alor'akada could call her own. And he'd nearly let Gela fall to her death to ensure that the cover of his tracks on this job was perfect. Jaster's Legacy. "Gela, the job is done. Let's go. We need to dust off from here, head to the lower levels for a few hours."

Sniffing, Gela retorted. "You can kiss a striil, Prosstang, I'm heading back to Mandalore. Nowhere near you, or your business. Any of it."

"Gela. This isn't a game. If you cross me. You're as good as done," Ferrigo again felt and sounded cold. He knew the situation was as much his own doing as hers, but he knew that having Gela as a loose end would unravel the deception he had planned. A lucrative deception. "Now get your head on straight. We don't have much time, not even to seal the hatches."

Gela turned her back toward Ferrigo and grunted tersely, impatiently. "Turn it on."

Ferrigo pressed the a trio of buttons in sequence and stood to the side. "You're ready for ignition, ad'ika."

"Don't call me that," Gela put her helmet back on.

Exercising the Fabled Right with Gela
"I will exercise my Right of Primacy," Gela's helmet turned to regard Ferrigo's worn, grey and red-trimmed beskar'gam and helmet before he continued in the same calm tone. In which he had just seemingly issued his claim to her. "Let's go, the turbolift is almost here."

The pair of Mandalorians activated their jetpacks and lifted off and away, landing less than a minute later at a platform containing a T-47 airspeeder.

Gela turned to Ferrigo as he spoke. "Our ride. Climb in back," he gestured to the open cockpit, and removed her jetpack. He turned his back and Gela removed his jetpack with a tug of both hands.

Holding her jetpack, Gela did as she was told. After Ferrigo climbed into the front cockpit, setting his jetpack between his feet, he quickly activated the flight control and nav systems and lifted the speeder from the platform. Within fifteen minutes, their T-47 was spiraling downward into one of the large ventilation ports to the lower levels of Coruscant. Ferrigo slowed and steered the speeder into a dark alcove surrounded by discolored light panels that featured the dark green Aurebesh lettering Garage. On entering the throat of the alcove, interior lights flickered on along the path of a low, narrow tunnel. On entering the parking deck two levels down, Ferrigo found a parking space and recorded the location with a few taps of his right gauntlet keypad. He assisted Gela in climbing ot of the speeder and hopping down onto the parking deck.

"Where are we?" Gela asked warily.

"Home," Ferrigo turned his helmet to regard Gela. "For now. Come on." Ferrigo led his assistant to a repulsorlift elevator, opened the door with a push of the lower of two large round buttons. They entered the elevator together and moved to the back wall. The elevator engaged and moved downward rapidly. Five floors above their destination, the magnetic brakes of the elevator hummed with engagement, and slowed the descent until stopping at Level D-236. The entire ride down the visors of Ferrigo's and Gela's helmets were locked in a gaze, no words being exchanged. Ferrigo checked his gauntlets, and then Gela did the same.

Ferrigo exited slowly and carefully, and moved to the right and scanned his field of vision and HUD for any warning signs as they walked the hallway among hotel room doors. "D-236-R12."

"What's that?" Gela asked wearily.

"Our room." Ferrigo waved a card in front of a pad at the right side of the door. The door slid open quickly. Ferrigo put his arm around Gela to help usher her in more quickly.

"Get your hands off me!" she snarled on the private channel. The door hissed shut. The room had a view of the undercity scape, with speeders traveling in thick lines at a variety of altitudes between the durasteel alloy fields that sandwiched the squat, round and spired buildings jutting up from below or down from above, as they were.

Ferrigo pulled off Gela's helmet, then his own, dropping both. Gela was exasperated. He pulled the bag off of Gela's shoulder after shrugging his own to the floor.

"What are you doing? Leave me alone." Gela shifted, but Ferrigo pushed her full force onto the double bed behind her. She gasped and growled.

"You fight me, will it be to the death, Tre'vhek?" Ferrigo seethed through tight lips. Gela's eyes showed fear.

"What have you become?!"

"Gela...ne beroya. Ne kar'taylir naysol dalare. Naysol ramaanar. Ne suvarir gar kar'tayl ne. Ne ceta. Ne ceta." Ferrigo began to cry, and sat down on a chair near a small table in the corner of the room. The entire room was large enough for a refresher with integrated shower, sink basin and toilet, the bed, a full-length and width window opposite the entry door, and the table with chair. A holovid screen was fixed from the ceiling above the chair.

Gela sat up, then stood, walking over to Ferrigo. She slapped his face hard with her open right hand, and then proceeded to slap him for the next ten counts as quickly and savagely as she could. Her seething growls and whines faded into a long sob as she fell into him.

Ferrigo put his hot, wet, stinging face into the armor plates below and on her left shoulder and continued sobbing. "I am so sorry, Gela. That was not the man I want to be. It might have been the man I was trained to be. But I would never want to hurt you. You have been so good to me."

"But you did," Gela sobbed with a long whine. "You did, Ferrigo Prosstang. Why? I love you. You were all I dreamed about."

Ferrigo cried aloud and gritted his teeth. He unlocked his gauntlets and let them drop on the floor. "I love you, Gela Tre'vhek. You've given me everything you could."

She slapped him hard across the face. Twice. "Don't say that ever again!"

"I LOVE YOU!" Ferrigo stood up and took another slap to the side of his head.

Ferrigo grabbed Gela in his arms and kissed her mouth deeply. Her resistance was firm, as she wiggled and moved her legs. He pushed her onto the bed, fell on top of her, and their beskar'gam clattered together and chafed.

"What are you doing!" Gela pressed her hands against Ferrigo's chest plates, trying to push him up as he firmly pressed down into her. Kissing her neck, his hands unfastening the side clips of her armored vest and the snaps of her arm and leg cover pieces. She whimpered as he then covered her mouth with his.

In a moment, she saw the hunger, sorrow and anguish in his eyes. And love. As his tongue probed into her mouth. His hands had cradled her head, and his moans were barely stifled. She gasped at him as he lifted slightly. "Take this off. Take it all off, ner cyar'yc Gela."

Ferrigo could see the hunger in her eyes, the anger melting into desperate lust. He wanted Gela more than anything now. The years he watched her at work, her attractive face, short and stylish blonde hair, her provocative walk, the times she attentively took dictation, and spoke his name with pride to other people. With a distant attraction, that he now realized only from recent events. He considered that her love for him was as pure as he had ever known. His own hunger for her grew with that thought. Her voice would never sound the same.

Soon their gear and clothing was strewn about the small room, and both Mandalorians were under the sheets in a fierce struggle to express every emotion they felt in fleeting and lasting moments of bittersweet, raging love and lust for one another. Gela did not, and could not stop herself from being opened and tamed by the man she had loved and dreamt about since she began to mature more than fifteen years before.

He took her again and again, loudly proclaiming and protesting the smooth, exquisite qualities she not only possessed, but shared with him utterly.

"You own this body, Alit'alor," Gela gasped and moved under Ferrigo, holding herself together for his desire to feast. "Hod Ha'ran! I love you, baby! Take me over the edge again! All over you!!"

Prosstang arched his back, groaned and grunted hungrily into her endowments as he lost all control over his cadence with his hastened rhythm of ministration. Gela saw the bruises of her lover, her Aliit'alor, and squeezed his swollen, bearded face into her yielding softness as she wailed his name. Ferrigo was both raw animal and tender lover with his executive asssistant, and her body yielded torrentially to his natural gifts, talents and pleasuring ways repeatedly through the night. The next morning, their hair disheveled, Gela kissed Ferrigo repeatedly as she rested and pressed her body into his. He groaned into awareness. "Elek, ik'aad?"

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum, Ferrigo, Baron-Aliit'alor be Prosstang." Ferrigo returned her kisses hungrily and pulled her onto him fully, feeling her smoothness sticking to him.

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum, Gela, ner cyar'ika."

Before one hundred counts, they resumed their passionate, hedonistic, athletic coupling. In her course, Gela cried at him again and again to give her everything he had, and Ferrigo was absolutely certain that he had. His own yells punctuated his contributions, and their hands and mouths explored each other's bodies without boundaries. The comfort control system in the room was taxed beyond its capabilities, the window of the room covered in a sheet of condensation that was streaked by water drops.

As their appetite for food replaced their passions for each other's company, Gela sighed. "I know you can't leave her."

"I know," Ferrigo's voice was deep and soft. "I do...love Alor'akada. And the kids."

Gela ran her hand across his chest, looking into his eyes. "But I now know that you love me too. More than any man I've ever known."

Ferrigo smiled. "I have to be responsible, Gela. I can't officially exercise the Right of Primacy. Not without severe consequences."

"I know. I love you Ferrigo. And I don't want to share you. Now that I've had you in my arms. And everywhere. But I know I have to share. With Alor'akada." Gela seemed to think as her fingers stirred her lover's hair and played with it. "Is it true you've had several hundred women of all kinds of species?"

Ferrigo pinched his lips together and scanned the ceiling for an answer. "I haven't counted in a while, Gela," he took a deep breath and his eyes shifted to gaze at her. "I have had few heartbreaks. Two. The rest have been...fun. Nothing more."

"Is Alor'akada fun?" his beautiful assistant probed.

"You're dangerous, Gela." Prosstang stroked her back with his right hand. "And safe."

"I won't break your heart, Ferrigo." Gela smiled and stroked the side of his bearded face.

"I didn't say they broke my heart." Ferrigo stared at the ceiling. After ten or so counts, a tear trickled from the corner of his eye as he thought of Relia Vu'udrel and Kenna Luxuara. Ner prash. My pride.

Recounting the Wet Job on Cousin Tre'vhek
"Is Alor'akada good to you?"

Ferrigo put up his left hand. "We shouldn't talk about Alor'akada. This is about you."

"Ferrigo?" Gela looked into his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Can I trust you to never try to kill me again?" her bright blue eyes and full lips slightly ajar kept his attention.

Ferrigo's eyes teared up. "YES. I hope you can forgive me." He gasped and inhaled more deeply. "I will never do another job with you, either."

Gela continued to caress him during a silence of several minutes, his hand caressed her in return.

"You never did say why Alor'akada sent you in her place," Ferrigo looked around the room without moving his face, and ended with his focus on the holoprojector screen.

"Are you not happy?" Gela softly kissed his neck.

"Despite our feelings for one another, I honestly would have never...this would not have happened. Not if Alor'akada didn't break our arrangement. Her promise. Our plan."

"Your plan?"

Ferrigo sighed. "Your cousin."

Gela's eyes and visage darkened considerably.

"He's alive. And wealthy. We staged his death. Huge bounty. Big payout. You're getting Alor'akada's cut."

"You made me shoot him," she raised her voice and her eyes misted. "I killed him myself."

Prosstang shook his head slowly. "Yomaget is alive. Trust me. I planned it out with him, and Alor'akada. With her as the sniper. To buy him some time. And get some money out of our old paymaster."

...

 The Darkest Years (33 - 32 BBY)

A Rare and Peculiar Offer
Ferrigo sat behind his desk, looking out the curved transparasteel window of his office in the Prosstang Industries headquarters building in Keldabe. A cloud of warm air floated in front of his vision.

"Well, will you think of it?" the sonorous voice issued again. The Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas had been insistent for the last twenty minutes. He had asked Ferrigo become the template for an army of warrior clones.

"Why me?" the Mandalorian's faraway gaze was locked on the tower spire of MandalMotors. He considered the recent commission he had placed for a personal spacecraft prototype. A collaborative effort code named Prasz'la, or Proud, with Prosstang Select Arms Manufacturing handling armaments and special armor plating, the ship would become the executive fleet for Prosstang Industries.

"You are thinking of leaving all this behind." Sifo-Dyas said softly and plainly.

''I don't appreciate the intrusion into my thoughts. Your Jedi mind tricks don't work on me. ''

"You're afraid of something, Sifo-Dyas," Ferrigo turned his chair to regard the man with black hair drawn into a long, gathered tail that rested on his left shoulder. "Your Jedi Council doesn't agree with you."

Sifo-Dyas disregarded the Mandalorian's last remark. "Though you don't work frequently anymore, your past reputation as a powerful and cunning Mandalorian warrior cannot be denied. You are a leader and a fierce combatant."

"I hardly know you. How do you know me?"

"It should come as no surprise to you that you have been of interest to the Jedi Order since you were a youngling," the Jedi had struck a chord in Ferrigo and it was clear in the dark brown eyes of Sifo-Dyas that he was satisfied. "Your parents refused your entry into the Order when you were not much older than an infant. I must also say, that in your presence, the Force reveals much to those who are attuned to receive."

Ferrigo waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not sure I like the idea of having copies of myself wandering the galaxy."

Sifo-Dyas sighed. "There would be modifications to the master copy," he then offered a slight smile. "To ensure that the clones would not be fully your equal."

"I'm not interested," Ferrigo looked Sifo-Dyas directly in the eye.

"You haven't heard the offer."

Prosstang raised his eyebrows. "I don't need to. I have other business to attend to, Master Jedi."

Decline of Prosstang Industries and Death of Signara
A few months later, Ferrigo returned to Mandalore from tense negotiations involving the Mining Guild, the Commerce Guild, the Trade Federation and the Banking Clan. During these negotiations, he sought to identify the parties responsible for a recent string of misfortunes rocking the stability of Prosstang Industries. At the Galactic Court of Justice for Trade & Commerce on Coruscant, Prosstang Industries was being stripped of its mining contracts for Bandomeer, Allyuen, and several dozen other mineral-rich worlds under false accusations of bribery and extortion. Many Prosstang patents pending for mining machinery improvements were also declined by the Galactic Office of Patents on questionable evidence. It was during this time that Ferrigo's mother Signara passed away in her sleep. It would be a few days before he arrived home to arrange the funeral. Years later, Prosstang would regret not being with his mother at her passing. His cousin, Jannigo, who had himself learned much about running the business, carried out many of the duties as Ferrigo's attention flagged.

While in Coruscant, Magister Hego Damask, a Muun and chief executive of Damask Holdings and a renowned influence with the Banking Clan, approached Ferrigo with advice and a suggestion. Damask considered Prosstang Industries fortunate to have any net income at all given the financial strength and treachery of the Commerce Guild. Further, Damask's friends of the Banking Clan were cold toward the idea of lending credit to Prosstang Industries in the times of uncertainty ahead with many systems seeking to secede from the Republic.

An Opportunity of Danger
Hego Damask suggested that Prosstang consider spending time seeking more work as a highly-paid bounty hunter - as there would be many parties interested in his services. Ferrigo was not entirely pleased to hear these words; feeling somewhat insulted as a businessman. As he looked upon the Muun, who wore an expansive and elegant cloak and was fitted with a breathing device that covered much of his neck and lower jaw, Ferrigo wondered about the rumored assassination attempt on Damask's life some twenty years prior.

After returning to Mandalore, Damask offered Prosstang via holoprojector the chance to make over eight million Republic credits for a one-off contract - with an advance of one million credits. His task was the removal, dead or alive, of a target who had become meddlesome in the affairs of the Banking Clan. Ferrigo accepted the job, and the encrypted holocron sent by Damask. On entering the code and opening the file, he recognized the image and name of the condescending senator from Naboo he met many years before. In his thoughts, Ferrigo recalled with discomfort with how the man seemed to manipulate his father with ease. He noticed a slight smile forming on the projected Muun's long face.

After conducting background research on his target's habits and possible vulnerabilities for a month, Prosstang prepared a rough operating plan to capture the target. And a backup plan should he need to eliminate the target. This preparation had not been easy. Ferrigo had been extemely careful in his efforts of surveillance, but sensed something of danger when following Palpatine, though he wasn't sure why. He returned to the Prosstang Estate on Mandalore to prepare a team to assist him in handling the target. After paying individual advances of 50,000 credits for their services and silence, Ferrigo provided a briefing regarding their duties - to secure Palpatine after taking him in. There were few questions, or words exchanged at that meeting in the otherwise empty tapcaf, The Itchy Strill, but coming from one of his trusted aides, Gela Tre'vhek, as well as his younger, distant cousins, they were prophetic.

Arrif Bolts'kan, a twenty-three year old nephew-cousin wore shoulder markings of his family proudly. As a nephew of Lorakada, wife to the Aliit'alor Prosstang, he had developed a sense of privilege. He had trained with Ferrigo, but showed signs of disrespect on occasion. "This guy, Fer'k. You say you have all this intel..."

"Yeah." Prosstang said clearly, resting his hands on the table.

"Is it enough?" Bolts'kan raised his cupped hand and looked to Gela Tre'vhek.

"What do you mean...is it enough?" Ferrigo turned to Gela, then scanned the faces of Arrif, Tan'ek Trant'tu and Anjii Dawal-Kuporr. Anjii had separated from Brelek Kuporr and spent more time with her cousin Gela. This job for her had been taken as an opportunity to restore her self-confidence. Her children Rhanin and Lhonin were old enough to train as warriors, and that was her wish. She and Ferrigo exchanged a long gaze.

"This Senator...something...there's something not right with this." Arrif shook his head and raised his hands.

Trant'tu leered. "So, Ar'f, are you backing out?" Bolts'kan shook his head.

Gela seethed. "There's NO backing out! We took the payment, we do the job."

"That's not what you're saying, is it, Ar'f?" Ferrigo gently grabbed Gela's arm. Anjii's gaze shifted to his hand and then back.

"No. I took the job. I'll do it..." Arrif protested gently. "I'm on board."

Gela whispered to Ferrigo. "Can he be trusted?"

Tan'ek stared at Arrif and razzed him in deadpan. "Di'kutlashebs'osik."

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, Tan'k?" Arrif was not backing down, even from a tease.

Ferrigo gritted. "Ke'sush!"

"If you want out, Ar'--" Gela impugned Arrif, but was cut short.

"I DON'T WANT OUT!  Listen!...I worked on a security job for a Trade Federation shipment about two years ago. That shipment was heading to the Chommel Sector," Bolts'kan's hands were animated. "Those grubby Neimodians were groveling to some hologram of a cloaked figure who told them that they needed to convince THIS Senator Palpatine that protesting taxes on Outer Rim trade routes was in the best interests of Naboo and..."

"YOUR POINT IS?" Gela was clearly upset.

"Anade..." Arrif ran his hand through his black hair. "I don't think this Senator is an easy mark. Far as I know he didn't protest the taxes."

"Does it matter? Except for Anjii, I trained you," Ferrigo gently tapped his fist on the table. "You were therefore trained by Jango Fett, our Mand'alor. I trained all of you. Joruur gar gett'se, ner vode - mhi ganar bora."

A Family Stolen
Later that day, Ferrigo returned to the Prosstang Palace to ready the gear needed for the job. He was shocked to find his entire family gone, with plentiful signs of struggle and destruction beyond the entry doors. Whomever took his family knew the security access codes to enter the gates and doors of the Palace. And that light sabers had been used to destroy many furnishings and heirlooms. He was horrified to find two disembodied hands; that his wife hand been holding his youngest son. Ferrigo was enraged, but calmed himself long enough to collect and record evidence of the abduction. Once completed with his investigation, Prosstang dropped the data pad on a bed and threw his helmet across the room and screamed from the depths of his lungs

 "Tion rushereshir ner'riduur bal ner'ade bal nerik'aade?! HAAR'CHAK!!! Ni SHUK'ALA gar kovide bal PIRU gar'tal!!!..."

Restructuring a Deal with a Shuffled Deck
He contacted Hego Damask to cancel the contract on Palpatine. Damask refused, adding that he would be immediately sending a mutual acquaintance to discuss and resolve any complications with the contract. Throughout the day, Prosstang felt uneasy. His family and business life were severely destabilized. His team were already out in the game, preparing a trap for their target. And yet, he would have to deal with Damask one way or another. He wore his best suit of battle armor, made by one of the ancients of his clan, with more recent technological improvements to restrict its use to him alone. He remotely opened the gate and entry doors for his guest, the representative sent by Damask. Ferrigo had not cleaned up the mess of his home.

Ferrigo: "As you can see and report to Damask, I have other pressing matters here and elsewhere to attend to."

Guest: "I see there is much here for you to consider. My colleague of the Banking Clan has asked me to have you consider something else."

Ferrigo: "I know your voice. What…" [ Ferrigo entered the foyer to greet his guest]

Dooku: "Yes, Lord Prosstang. I am now Dooku, Count of Serreno. And as sad as I am about some aspects of my choice in leaving, I no longer serve the Jedi Order. I am here as a friend to your people, your firm and most of all, to you."

Ferrigo: "But you are here at Hego Damask's request. Do you know what he has asked me to do?"

Dooku: "There is grave corruption throughout the Galactic Republic. The Jedi Order are unfortunately agents led by deception. The debacle on Galidraan was but the confirmation of that. My dear friend and former Padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn recently died on Naboo as a result of a deception like this…My limited understanding of what you have been asked to do is influenced by my interest in forming an opposition to the growing corruption in the Republic. In time, I believe that Qui-Gon would have joined me..."

Ferrigo: "I appreciate your frankness, Count Dooku. But what else is Damask asking of me?"

Dooku: "Damask is a dealer in great power with many connections, Lord Prosstang. He is aware that a corrupted Jedi has been hired in secret to raise an army of clones in service to the Republic...but in reality, this army will serve a much darker purpose."

Ferrigo: "I suppose I don't follow, Dooku."

Dooku: "In the history of our peoples, do you recall the Sith?"

Ferrigo: "Yes. I have some knowledge. My own ancestors did not find favor in or with the Sith. But the Sith were eliminated nearly a thousand years ago."

Dooku: "If only that were true, my dear friend. Though I cannot share my thoughts and reasoning on the matter, I do believe that the Galactic Senate has come under the influence of a Great Lord of the Sith. Master Jinn died on the saber of a Sith Lord. And Hego Damask is as concerned as I am about the possible damage that a Sith Lord would have on the sovereignty of systems to determine the best futures for their citizens and the corporations that feed, shelter and clothe them."

Ferrigo: "Why Palpatine?"

Dooku: "He has been identified as a likely pawn of this Sith Lord. And his election yesterday as the new Chancellor of the Republic to succeed Finis Valorem...has raised the stakes."

Ferrigo: "Chancellor?"

Dooku: "Palpatine is a shrewd politician. Nothing more. But...he clearly would have knowledge of the issues concerning Damask Holdings. And quite frankly, Prosstang Industries. I have sensed, too, that Palpatine is familiar with the sources of corruption in the Republic. He may be our best hope of identifying and neutralizing the Sith."

Ferrigo: "So...this clone army…"

Dooku: "The corrupted Jedi, Master Sifo-Dyas, has been seen near the Dacho District of Coruscant. I am ashamed to say I once knew Sifo-Dyas. He was a friend. But, he left the Jedi Order some time ago. I sensed the Dark Side of the Force in him. Though I am not proud to admit it...by proxy of my advanced age, he is perhaps my equal or greater in forms of combat known to Jedi."

Ferrigo: "Sifo-Dyas came to see me not more than a month ago about being cloned."

Dooku: "Alone, I cannot match with Sifo-Dyas. I need the help of one of the finest Mandalorian warriors with an impeccable reputation for combat skill and keen senses. I would require your assistance, Lord Prosstang.

Prosstang considered what he had been told. He could tell that Dooku sensed his suspicion and uncertainty, as if added leverage would be needed to convince the Mandalorian of the threat of the designs of Sifo-Dyas.

Dooku: "I shudder at the thought that Sifo-Dyas would have...anything to do with the disappearance of your family. Perhaps the children carry the genetic material necessary to..."

Ferrigo: [withdrawing his dark saber from his belt loop] "I didn't say I refused his offer. And I've never said anything about my family to anyone, Dooku."

Dooku: [raising his right hand, while brushing open his cape with his left to show a curved light saber on his left hip] "There is no need to be alarmed, Lord Prosstang. Among Jedi I was among the best at reading the thoughts of others. You are clearly under duress, and have been easier to read than most...though, through no weakness of yours. I know you are powerful."

Ferrigo: "How?"

Dooku: "I have been negligent in informing you that Master Jinn once spoke of you long ago. He told me that you were more than met the eye."

Ferrigo: [replacing his dark saber on his belt] "You believe Sifo-Dyas is responsible for taking my family?"

Dooku: "I sense this to be true. I believe it is the will of the Force that has brought us together. To help each other. Neither of us can take Sifo-Dyas alone. But he must be taken. You are a highly skilled and courageous warrior, one of the most renowned mercenaries and bounty hunters in the galaxy. With my training, you can become much more powerful and capable of handling Sifo-Dyas. Join me, my friend."

Ferrigo: "What of Palpatine? My team?"

Dooku: "I will talk with Hego Damask about changing the objectives of your contract. Without a change in payment. Alert your field operatives to be prepared to handle a different package. With your news confirming the forming of a clone army, it is clear that Sifo-Dyas is the greatest danger at hand."

Training with Count Dooku Against the Sith Agent
Ferrigo accepted Count Dooku's offer of training and assistance in tracking and taking down the man he now believed abducted his wife and children. For two months in Serenno and Mandalore, Dooku trained Ferrigo in Jedi saber dueling techniques and use of the Force to disorient opponents by pushing them backward. Prosstang felt an increasing confidence in his use of his dark saber, and felt some pride in the Force abilities he had begun to harness.

Coincidences, Confusion and Betrayals
Dooku informed Prosstang that he received communication that Sifo-Dyas would be in Keldabe for a visit to other cloning candidates. The time had come for Prosstang to join Dooku in confronting Sifo-Dyas. For Ferrigo, it seemed time too long overdue. Prosstang once again prepared himself in his best armor, re-painted dark grey, with an additional insignia painted upon it to additionally signify his lost wife and children, the honoring of his father and the righteous vengeance at the center of his being.

Dooku would await Prosstang and Sifo-Dyas at the Prosstang Estate. Prosstang went to the Oyu'baat Tapcaf in Keldabe, and saw Sifo-Dyas at the bar. When the Jedi turned to him as if expecting him, he was taken aback. Sifo-Dyas asked if he could help the warrior standing before him. Ferrigo removed his helmet, and asked the Jedi to buy him a drink. The Jedi was a little surprised about the Mandalorian's change of mind. With the drinks downed, Ferrigo suggested they move their meeting to the Prosstang Estate to conclude business. Sifo-Dyas agreed, and followed Ferrigo's Mandalorian speeder with his own rental for the 200 kilometer trip.

As they entered the great hall at the Prosstang Palace, Ferrigo took off his helmet again, and set it on the large veshok dining table in the family den. Ferrigo considered the lost and destroyed artifacts of the Clan Prosstang that once hung in that very room as the corrupted Jedi took a seat as requested at the table. After a few minutes of conversation about the cloning process and payment, Prosstang came to the point.

Ferrigo: "Why did you leave the Order, Master Jedi?"

Sifo-Dyas: "What do you mean?"

Dooku: [quickly but gracefully entering the gathering area from the great hall] "Master Sifo-Dyas? What are you doing here?"

Sifo-Dyas: "I could ask you the same question, old friend. As well as Lord Prosstang's question."

Ferrigo moved into position to the rear of Sifo-Dyas as Dooku approached nearer the fireplace.

Dooku: "You were fully aware of my discontent. The favoritism. The elitism...seeking favor of politicians who were more skilled at scratching backs than providing leadership and solutions to reduce the suffering of the masses."

Sifo-Dyas: "Well, why are you here ?"

Dooku: "Old friend. I am here to ensure that one good turn receives another as deserved. And Lord Prosstang is here to give as good as he has been given."

Sifo-Dyas: "I don't understand." [The Jedi stirred in his seat, as if to ready to stand up]

Dooku: "He is yours, Lord Prosstang."

Ferrigo: "Have you killed my family or just taken them?"

Sifo-Dyas: "Wha…!?!" [Sifo-Dyas quickly rose out of his seat, nearly knocking it down]

Prosstang fired two blaster shots from his wrist gauntlets, one into the rear of each of Sifo-Dyas' knees, causing the man to fall to the floor.

Ferrigo: "Let me rephrase. Where is my wife? Where are my children?! Now!!"

Sifo-Dyas: "I DON'T KNOW!!! DOOKU!! What is this?!"

Dooku: "You are in the service of a Dark Lord of the Sith, Master Sifo-Dyas! Name him!"

Ferrigo: "Name him! Where's my family!?!"

Ferrigo was surprised as he saw Dooku's light saber flash red as it quickly slid from sight into Sifo-Dyas' lower back until it emerged just below his rib cage. Sifo-Dyas gasped and clenched his hands in shock, turning slightly to glance at Prosstang before his eyes rolled backward. Ferrigo looked on dumbly as Dooku withdrew his red saber from Sifo-Dyas and powered it down before deftly replacing it upon his belt.

Dooku: "The threat has been eliminated."

Ferrigo: "What...did you do?! He didn't tell us anything! If he took my family, how am I to know where to find them!?! And what about the Sith?!"

Dooku: "Perhaps you should consider your other options, Lord Prosstang."

Ferrigo: "You killed the man who you said took my family. What ARE my options?!"

Dooku: [walking toward the exit to the great hall from the den enclosure] "Someone in the Republic desires a large army of clones. Why not replace Sifo-Dyas as the agent as well as providing the genetic source? A whole lot less of a headache than trying to run a large and failing industrial concern."

Ferrigo: [following, exasperated] "I want to talk with Hego Damask!"

Dooku: "I'm afraid that won't be possible. You see, the Magister died almost two months ago."

Ferrigo: "How is that possible?! I still have a contract for Chancellor Palpatine."

Dooku: "Who will pay you? It's a worthless agreement. Our friends at the Banking Clan are somewhat in disarray. I'm not sure they feel the same way about Palpatine as Damask did."

Ferrigo: "You don't seem very helpful, Count."

Dooku: "I've tired of this arrangement. I'm leaving, and do not expect to see you again."

Ferrigo: "Not so fast." [Ferrigo swung his left hand out, with vibro-blade 'shicking' into extended position with the motion to block Dooku from proceding to the steps from the great hall down to the ray-shielded exit]

Dooku quickly raised his left hand, causing Ferrigo to lift from the ground. Dooku then turned, counterclockwise, causing Ferrigo to soar backward with great force against the upper den enclosure wall. Ferrigo began to lose consciousness as he struggled to breathe. He glanced to Dooku's left hand which was drawing into a fist.

Dooku: "Listen well. Whether you accept your fate or not, Prosstang, there is no future in which you shall see the mongrels of your brood. Your business shall become a shambles. You have no vision.  You should find yourself elevated in the good company of pirates and slaves. You may be hunted by anyone else. The good honor of your clan shall be forever diminished. Don't pursue me, or you shall die a horrible death."

Dooku relaxed and lowered his hand, and Ferrigo dropped heavily to the floor, unconscious.

 Vengeance, Justice, Disappointment and Survival (32 - 24 BBY)

Ferrigo would later find that Count Dooku had wiped his data pad, and removed Sifo-Dyas from the Prosstang Estate. Prosstang took an extended leave from the company. Over a period of a week, Ferrigo pieced together memories of the scene of the abduction. He meditated on these memories. Still, he was not confident beyond a few obvious concepts about his recollections. He found that the Republic would not commit resources to finding his family as there was no evidence of a crime. His aide in organizing security operations for Prosstang Industries, Gela Tre'vhek, attempted to offer solace to Ferrigo, but he told her that there was an emptiness that even the grace of her company would not fill. Not then.

During the next few years, Ferrigo did little else but travel anonymously, on occasion with his cousins Jannigo, Ar'f,  Tan'k and Gela in search of his family. He spent most of his time on Coruscant, trying to find trails of information there, and on Nar Shaddaa, the Hutt moon. He had a lot of time to ponder what had happened to his family, the family business, his sense of honor and his ability to trust. He decided to keep tabs on Count Dooku, through discreet channels, in case information might lead to finding his family.

After over four years of fruitless searching, and taking periodic contract work as a military trainer and bounty hunter, he spent less time actively trying to find his family. Ferrigo developed a high level of trust and dependence on Gela to keep moving forward in his daily life of scheduling business meetings and arranging bounty contracts. She finally convinced him that his family was not going to return. It was shortly after surrendering to this sad realization that he accepted the comforts of Gela as his consort, no longer would she be simply his right hand, his second-in-command. He resumed a full regimen in fitness and combat exercises, reconnecting with a few of his old mercenary contacts, and his cousins of course. For the first couple of years back in the hunt, Ferrigo completed a variety of contracts; rarely subcontracting. His reputation for success (and a low 'wet-rate' (kills) in securing 'hard merchandise' (bounties)) grew throughout the galaxy, even with highly dangerous missions and bounties. On occasion, Gela would join him in the field on contracted jobs. Though many soldiers-of-fortune were jealous of Ferrigo's successes, most showed respect and deference to 'The Snake' or 'Pross' when they met him. Ferrigo was honorable and respectful to those he dealt with, unless they crossed him. Which rarely happened. The only notable exception was the treachery of the Trandoshan bounty hunter, Xossk, which shall be recounted at another time.

Though Prosstang Industries was shrinking with years of losses in court and among the various trade guilds, Ferrigo was surviving and gaining a sense of purpose in helping people find objects, loved ones, enemies, and enforcing justice where none otherwise existed. His relationship with Gela became comfortable; this would change in 24 BBY.

 Return of Death Watch, the Reluctant Mand'alor and the Beginning of the Clone Wars (25 - 21 BBY)

Agricultural crisis, food and consumer goods shortages throughout Mandalorian Space
Ferrigo had kept away from Mandalore for almost eight years when he heard murmurs about violence in the streets of Mandalore...and Death Watch. Given Ferrigo's position that peace on Mandalore and its system was a necessary condition of prosperity for the Mandalorian people as a whole, he considered a return home as word spread that pockets of poverty and food insecurity on Mandalore were growing throughout the cities, towns, villages, estates and settlements.

Prosstang arranged a meeting with the Mandalorian Minister of Finance in early 25 BBY. At that meeting, he discovered that several corporations with ties to the Commerce Guild, Banking Clan and Trade Federation had also been invited. And they were interested in getting in on Mandalorian markets for fresh and processed foods, mining and agricultural technology, consumer goods and appliances, home furnishings, and security services. Learning that the New Mandalorian government was entertaining a few of the most powerful players in galactic trade, the same ones who had betrayed Prosstang Industries, stunned and even angered Ferrigo. But his attention was distracted, and his anger soothed by the appearance of an amazingly beautiful, very young, blond-haired, and dazzling green-eyed woman-child. She and a few young men were representing Grayson Galactic, a firm that she said would increase the affordability of consumer goods, and restore and even increase agricultural productivity. Prosstang thought that acting on these claims would certainly run against the independent spirit of the Clans that lived outside of the Sundari Region, and the larger Excision Zone - but he held his concerns in check in the hopes of sharing them directly and privately with the Duchess Satine Kryze at the close of the meeting.

A private meeting with the Duchess and the Ministry Council was arranged a few days later to discuss industry and security of the New Mandalorian government. Halfway through the meeting, a minister's aide entered the chambers and whispered into her master's ear.

Agricultural Minister Vhij Yanas: "Baron Prosstang...I have some rather shocking, and sad news.  Twenty-four members of your clan perished among nearly twenty others last night in an explosion.  At one of your derelict beskar mines on Concordia. Apparently, they were holding a celebration at the mine..."

Ferrigo: "Those are heritage mining sites; not derelict." [Running his fingers through his long hair, head bowed down slightly]  Who did this?!"

Minister Yanas: "The investigation has not begun..."

A tall, pale-skinned male with an angular jaw and short blond hair entered the chambers, and hailed the group.

Duchess Satine Kryze: "Governor Vizsla - you have news?"

Ferrigo: [Under his breath to himself, quizzically] "Vizsla?"

Governor Vizsla: "Yes, Duchess. [The man turned to Ferrigo with a cold gaze] Pre Vizsla, Governor of Concordia...The Police Investigations Unit believes that someone who had access to the mining explosives of Prosstang Industries is behind the attack."

Ferrigo: "Death Watch?" [Returning a sharp, pointed gaze of his own at the Governor]

Vizsla: "That's doubtful.  Looks like an inside job.  Death Watch are a figment of the imagination in those who would seek to bear arms in the name of peace."

Ferrigo: "Is it known who of my clan have been victimized by this terrorist act?"

Vizsla: [Slowly] "Alvass Krea Prosstang.  He and many other good people of your clan, who I considered as good friends and stewards of Concordia.  Don't worry, Baron Prosstang, my PIU on Concordia shall not rest until justice is done."

Ferrigo: "Surely they won't. [A lengthy pause]  I know it's difficult to bear such news, Governor, but I do appreciate your making the trip to Sundari to share it.  If you don't have a pressing need in the next hour, I'd like to meet with you to discuss what is happening on Concordia -- after I have finished with this meeting."

Vizsla: "Duchess..." [Slightly bowing and turning toward the Duchess before departing]

The Duchess recognized and sympathized with Prosstang's family loss. He pushed down apparent grief and strengthened his resolve to talk about the security of the New Mandalorian government, and how a weak industrial sector would undermine that security. His suggestions included appointing a force of True Mandalorians, to be confirmed by the Duchess under a pledge to follow the Supercommando Codex as loyal protectors of the people and its government throughout the Mandalorian System.

He suggested that Jango Fett, himself, Aloquar Ordo, the young Beviin Kabur or one of the handful of those mercenaries who served directly under Jaster Mereel be appointed as the Commander of the force. Ferrigo expressed his opinion that the Police and Secret Service officers were ill-prepared for conflict and should be trained and certified by a cadre of True Mandalorians.

Finance Minister Renna Vhell: [With a snapping tone] "Any success in avoiding a catastrophic starvation of the Mandalorian people will be based on avoiding the appearance of thuggery, Lord Prosstang."

Ferrigo: "Satine! Almec! Why are we listening to her?!  I am not talking about thugs - I am talking about patriotic Mandalorians who would protect those who cannot protect themselves!"

Interior Minister Armatan: "I believe, Madam Vhell, that you owe Baron Prosstang an apology."

Minister Vhell: "I owe him nothing, Armatan!  As Governor Vizsla of Concordia suggests, the Baron and his kind would bring chaos to every doorstep on Mandalore...in the name of peace."

Pounding his fists on the table in front of him, Ferrigo looked angrily at Minister Vhell.

Ferrigo: "When you figure out how to purchase our surplus produce, meats and ship them to the Excision Zones, we are ready to deal...at discount!  BUT YOU WON'T HEAR OF IT!!!  I don't know who fills your personal accounts, but I know this WHOLE thing about bringing in off-worlders to bump us out of our home markets...IS...YOUR...[now pointing at Minister Vhell]..IDEA."

Prime Minister Almec: "Baron Prosstang. I understand you are upset.  We all are. But the situtation is far more grave than we initially thought.  Our modular urban agriculture pods have suffered severe blighting.  Our people need food...and daily needs met."

Bowing slightly to Satine, then gesturing to Almec, Interior Minister Armatan spoke up.

Minister Armatan: "Your Highness...Prime Minister....if you please.  The Baron is correct.  We do have surpluses outside of the Excision Zones.

Agricultural Minister Vhij Yanas: "It won't be enough.  We need help bringing our grow pods back online in suitable condition.  We also need new protocols for raising food crops separate from seed, feed and industrial products crops."

Regaining his composure, Ferrigo responded with an even voice.

Ferrigo: "We have the experience in agriculture...to be self-sufficient.  We must maintain that.  We lose our way from freedom the moment we depend on TaggeCo, Grayson Galactic and any affiliates of the Commerce Guild, Banking Clan or Trade Federation to feed and clothe us.  We WANT to help."

Minister Vhell: "Unrealistic.  We are beyond that point."

Duchess Satine: "Minister Vhell, please.  Baron Prosstang, I appreciate your thoughtful care on matters of our security, independence and welfare.  Please, go in peace.  The Council must discuss a few matters in closed session.  Thank you for attending."

Ferrigo nodded, "Thank you, Your Highness." He walked from the dais toward the exit doors.

As he approached the etched sliding glass doors, he took his hat from a protocol droid and put it on his head. He could see that the young female representative of Grayson Galactic was standing in waiting outside of the doors against a guard rail, finishing a call on her comm link device. He pushed the broad black button to the side of the doors and they hissed open.

Ferrigo: "Ms. Grayson, I presume? [Turning his head slowly toward the young woman] AND Galactic?  [Pointing two fingers upward, but in the stunned young woman's general direction] Are you sure you can handle Mandalore?"

Alexzandria Grayson: [Straightening her back, as if reflexively at the surprise of the words spoken to or at her. Despite her youth, her bright green eyes captured Ferrigo in their gaze] "Undoubtedly.  And who are you?"

Ferrigo: "Mandalore." [A slight leering smile formed at his left upper lip, and he tipped the wide brim of his black hat as he turned and walked past her] "Good day."

He continued out through the main entry doors, and climbed into the waiting repulsorlift limousine and sat down in the back seat. He turned briefly and looked to the young representative from Grayson Galactic. He could see her very attractive face clearly. She was very young, he thought. But there was something disturbingly familiar about her. And his thoughts about the young Ms. Grayson, some that seemed rather inappropriate or somehow placed into the future, careened in his mind.

''What was that? What was I thinking? Why did I say that? Isn't she but a child? ''

- You  expressed your desires...and she will not forever be so young.

''What? ''

''- Trust your feelings. Embrace your destiny. ''

What the--?!

As the limousine departed the curb for Sundarian traffic, Ferrigo was shaken from his thoughts and contemplation of the very rectangular architecture and glimpses of the hazy, laminated dome of the enclosed New Mandalorian capital by the voice of Gela Tre'vhek, his personal aide and consort:

Gela Tre'vhek: "What is it?  What's on your mind."

Ferrigo: "I...don't know."

Gela: "How did the meeting go?  Is Satine going to fold for the off-worlders?"

Ferrigo: "I don't know, Gela."

Gela: [Sarcastically] "Sounds like a great meeting, lover."

Ferrigo: [Looking at the attractive, short haired blonde sitting cross-legged in her dark charcoal colored business suit] "I'm not in the mood for a teasing, Gela.  I know you're trying to pick up my spirits...but there is something not right about this situation.  I'm...confused."

Gela: [Uncomfortably shifting in her seat, an eyebrow raised] "WHAT situation, Fer'k?"

Ferrigo: "Satine's ministers -- most of her ministers want to open up Mandalore for imports, as well as humanitarian aid.  The people who live in this bubble, bless their hearts, are sheep who can't feed themselves.  There are issues with the division of agricultural sciences.  They can't keep a biocube intact to grow the food needed to feed a family of four, let alone the several million living in Sundari and the other outposts in the Excision Zones in Mandalorian space."

Gela: "What do you think this all means?"

Ferrigo: "The status quo won't do for the sheep of the Excision Zones.  Though we are self-sufficient, changes are brewing that will overflow, and impact us.  I'm afraid we may be in danger of losing what we hold dear in our parts of the Mandalorian Sector - our freedom."

Gela: "Why? Hey -- did someone spice your tea?"

Ferrigo: [Waving off Gela's jab, Ferrigo was apparently puzzled, as though receiving a message] "Youth...will be served."

Gela: [Incredulous] "What the fierfek do you mean, Pross?"

Ferrigo: "Gela, I really don't know.  But...our ideas...and ideals...They are in danger of being discarded in the face of what will appear to be innovation. In this crisis. Off-worlders will have a foothold soon...and it won't stop."

Gela: "Please, my Lord, don't get prophetic and weird on me.  You need to get your feet back into your boots. WE need you to get your osik'la shebse straightened out."

Ferrigo gazed directly at Gela and said nothing for ten seconds before returning his gaze to the passing building blocks of Sundari on his way to meet with Pre Vizsla, Governor of Concordia.

Follow Up Meeting with Interior Minister Armatan (25 BBY)
In the days that followed, Armatan, the New Mandalorian Interior Minister contacted Ferrigo to ask him to convene a meeting of the leaders of clans. Armatan believed the the Council of Ministers and a delegation of Mandalorian clan leaders could meet with the executives of Baktoid Industries, TaggeCo, and Grayson Galactic to resolve issues concerning resistance to the operations of galactic corporations on Mandalore and its other jurisdictional planets. Ferrigo let him know that only the Clan Prosstang would be represented with certainty.

Armatan, Finance Minister: "We need to have the consensus of the clans outside of the Excision Zone to move forward, Baron Prosstang. We cannot have Death Watch resurrected in retaliation for our efforts to feed the hungry. We cannot have your people fighting aid relief in Parliament."

Ferrigo: "Minister, I am not Mand'alor. Only Mand'alor can call the clans together for common cause."

Armatan: "The Duchess will recognize YOU as Mand'alor, if need be."

Ferrigo: "A flattering gesture. But for me, my clan, and the clans to whom the title Mand'alor still has meaning...it would be an insult."

Armatan: "And why? You bear an honorary title bestowed by New Mandalorians over six centuries ago.  Perhaps you should consider adding another."

Ferrigo: "This is not Satine's idea, Armatan. She would not embrace even the recognition of our ancient warrior traditions.  The title would need to be handed down by the holder of the title, or it would need to be earned in single combat with the holder."

Armatan: [A cunning smile raised the corner of the Minister's mustache] "Are you unable to obtain the title of Mand'alor? "

Ferrigo: "Jango Fett was and is Mand'alor as far I as know..."

Armatan: "He has not been seen in Mandalorian Space for many years."

Ferrigo: "Jaster Mereel protected Satine's father from Death Watch. Along with Jango Fett and Beviin Kabur,  I protected Satine herself from Death Watch ten years ago. But Satine gave up on us; she's since given credit to aruetyc jetii. Maybe if you would convince Satine to reconsider my suggestion that honorable Mandalorians with professional reputations be enlisted to protect the New Mandalorian government...we might have reason to believe in the value of having a Mand'alor. Maybe Fett would return."

The meeting ended with Armatan suggesting that he would try to convince Satine to bend on hiring or enlisting Ferrigo's True Mandalorian colleagues as a Guild of Mandalorian Protectors to provide security and training for New Mandalorian forces.

A Last Meeting with Jango Fett (25 BBY)
A few weeks later in 25 BBY, word got to Ferrigo from Jango Fett that there was work to be done in training a large number of Republic soldiers. Prosstang met with Fett, both wearing civilian clothes at a tapcaf in the underworld of Coruscant...twenty years since they last saw one another at Galidraan. Jango confirmed the rumored deaths of Tor Vizsla and Montross, and they shared shots in belated celebration and talked for half an hour about several topics.

Ferrigo: "Jango, I'm in a bind."

Jango: "Snake, I'm the training master for several hundred thousand soldiers. You've kept yourself busy and in good shape the last number of years. Your reputation for success is nearly as impressive as mine. I could use your talents and leadership in the Cuy'val Dar, the training cadre. Though I remember your parlor tricks, I have heard you have fancy powers that only Jedi are known for."

Ferrigo: "Who would go and tell you about my magic act, Jango?"

Jango: "Tyranus. He authorized payments for this job a long time ago. Apparently you turned the job down. So I guess I should thank you, since I haven't gotten a hold of you sooner. Not that you need any favors, being a hot shot business executive an' all…"

Ferrigo: "I'd lost my family, Jango. It was all a little too much to piece everything together back then."

Jango: "Fer'k, I’m terribly sorry about your family. I really am. I have a son myself. But as Mer'buir (Papa Mereel) would say it's time to move on. So...are you in or are you out?"

Ferrigo: "Jango, thanks for the offer. I'm glad you're alive. And doing well. You have my eternal thanks for wasting Vizsla and Montross."

Jango: "But..."

Ferrigo: "But it doesn't feel right to me. And it's not about you. I'd love nothing more than to work with you again. We were the best, Jango, but I need more freedom to move about and maintain what is left of the family business.  I like calling the shots. And, if you hadn't heard, Death Watch is reportedly active again."

Jango: "Death Watch?  There's not enough money in the system to support any sort of army for or against the New Mandalorians.  In considering this opportunity, I knew the thought of feeling cooped up might not appeal to you. Jan'k (Jannigo Prosstang) turned down his chance too. Of course, I can't have either of you say anything about this offer or anything we've discussed...or I'd have to kill you [Jango smiled]."

Ferrigo: "No problem there, ner vod...but my bind is this...I've been asked to call together the clans, Jango. Not the Sundarians. Not the Excisioners. Ner vode, ner verde. Aruetyc corporations from the Core Systems have been invited to help feed and provision the people outside of our comfort zone. The Duchess and her Ministers want us to play nice or turn our heads. They don't want Death-"

Jango: "What do you want me to do, Fer'k?"

Ferrigo: "You're Mand'alor, burc'ya. Your place. Your call."

Jango: "I love you like a brother, Ferrigo. But I don't give shatuals gett'se about those Mandalorians. They can kiss my shebse. Only you, and my brothers in arms. You are my Mandalorians. I guess it's tragic that your clan have you fit to be tied in so many ways.  Go ahead, be Mand'alor.  Take the title. I don't want it. Besides, aside from those sharal di'kute in the Excision Zone, nobody really gives a vhe'viin'la shebse about anyone else's opinion."

Ferrigo: "I would say I'm honored, but you know I'm not."

Jango: "Here, here is my shoulder plate with the Mand'alor sigil of the Mythosaur. Bring it back when you're done with this charade with Satine. That Kryze Clan are a bunch of spineless worms...except for that red head. Watch out for her. Tram wreck written all over her. When she finds out you're Mand'alor, you might have your hands full."

Ferrigo: [Standing up from his stool] "Let's take this out back..."

Jango: [Eyebrow raised, a smile forming] "You want to earn this? I'm good with that, Fer'k. Hope you're ready for a sheb'labrokar."

Ferrigo: [Smiling] "Yours? Ori'lek. Like old times."

Ferrigo and Jango walked around the side of the tapcaf into the poorly lit service loading area.

Jango: "I've killed many Jedi with my bare hands, Ferrigo...you heard that?"

Ferrigo: "I know you used your vibroblades. Sounds better to say bare hands."

Jango: "Damn straight."

Ferrigo: "Let's rock, my friend. Oya manda!!"

Jango: "Oya!!"

A flurry of punches from each Mandalorian grazed their targets, and kicks well-placed did not settle with their goals either. Several spins, temporary holds and shuffles punctuated efforts to land hard contact.

Jango: "You must be strong to rule as Mand'alor, Pross! You're being outclassed by Coruscanti secretaries!"

Ferrigo: "$&@# YOU JANGO!!"

Fett landed a hard punch on Ferrigo's left jaw, sending the taller bearded man spinning downward into the filthy, litter-covered floor of the loading bay.

Jango: "K'atini! K'atini, Pross..." Fett's feet danced and shuffled.

With blinding speed, Prosstang's long legs whipped into a snapping scissor lock around Fett's ankles, sending him quickly onto his back, with the audible sound of the back of Jango's skull hitting the ground. A loud grunt and gust of air expelled from Jango's mouth. Ferrigo gathered himself up, jaw aching, blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth and prepared to minister aid to Jango.

Ferrigo: "Jango...you ok-"

A loud thud, a flash of light, and a concussion leading to a deep pain swelling from between his legs, into his stomach, chest, knees, shoulders sent Prosstang flying backward with a loud exhaling moan into a stack of cartons, crushing them under his momentum and weight.

Ferrigo: [Coughing] "I canna...see...."

Jango: "You're gonna earn this, Pross."

Jango stood over Ferrigo and rapidly punched him in the shoulders and face several times. Fett thought that bruises were certain, a broken this or that were also possible.

Jango: "Ne jurkadir, Fer'k."

Suddenly, Jango spun quickly to look over his left shoulder.

Prosstang punched his right fist hard into his friend's groin, and swung his left fist, thumb extended into Fett's side, just below his rib cage. Fett fell down, and Prosstang though aching and without clear sight climbed onto Jango's chest, knees pinning down the stunned Mand'alor's arms. Ferrigo proceeded to punch Fett for the next half a minute, being sure not to deal a killing blow he knew that he could have easily issued, as he had done with past targets.

A few minutes later, both men pulled themselves up to sit on boxes opposite each other, bloodied and aching with pains dull and sharp. They began a conversation that was impaired by swollen facial features and mouths filled will cuts.

Jango: "You a theeky di'kut, Thnake."

Ferrigo: "Gimme th' thierthekin me-tho-thore badge, Jang'..."

They both chuckled through the pain, eventually helping each other find their way back into the tapcaf bar where they sat back down. They chuckled as they looked at each other, faces clearly and sharply swollen, bruising and bloodied. The bartended handed them wet rags to clean their faces. Jango casually grasped Ferrigo's hand, and handed him a small, dark-colored, fastened sack.

Jango: "Take dith..."

Ferrigo: "Yeth. Thank you."

Jango: "Drink!"

Ferrigo: "To buuth'thye...Be well, my thend. An' be carethul. [Ferrigo slugged back his drink, and turned to leave] Ret'urthe mhi, ner'vodika ."

Jango: [Raised glass as Ferrigo departed slowly] "We were de betht, ner'vodika.

A Convention of the Clans (Late 25 BBY)
In the winter, Ferrigo and Jannigo Prosstang sent out word to all the families of the Clan Prosstang, as well as the leaders of warrior clans throughout Mandalorian Space to discuss the incursion of galactic corporations into New Mandalorian affairs, and by extension, the lives of all Mandalorians. On the face of it, many were surprised to hear that Ferrigo Prosstang had become Mand'alor, and attended for the primary reason of learning how that came to pass. Ferrigo wore his purple  and yellow trimmed beskar'gam with the Mythosaur sigil shoulder plate painted yellow to complement. Still showing some facial bruising from his fight with Jango, many of the clan leaders wanted to talk details of the battle. Ferrigo put them off from discussing it. Security at the Prosstang Estate for the convention was tight.

The leadership of over twenty clans was represented, all in beskar'gam, in the Great Hall of the Prosstang Palace, including some whose families were known or suspected to have ties with Death Watch. The meeting began with introductions and reports from the realm, prior to the planned arrival in two hours of New Mandalorian officials and representatives of the galactic corporations. Gela Tre'vhek and her older cousin Yomaget joined Jannigo Prosstang and Kor'lek Ur'mogg in helping coordinate communications, food and refreshments for the Convention. Most of the clans had good news to report, especially in terms of sustaining through the winter with excellent harvests in storage. Kor'lek Ur'mogg, as Agricultural It was explained that the meeting of the clans would culminate in a vote on a select group of leaders to meet with the New Mandalorian government ministerial representatives and galactic corporate interests seeking a stake in Mandalorian markets.

Ferrigo: "We now come to the vote on representation for the Delegation to discuss our concerns and interests to the New Mandalorians and corporations.  As Mand'alor, I will confirm those selected, and be the leader of the Delegation of Clans. And know, that if we are not represented, the New Mandalorians will speak for us."

Pre Vizsla, Clan Vizsla Chieftain, Governor of Concordia: "Baron Prosstang, how can you select and sit on the Delegation of Clans, while having business dealings with the parties we are asked to scrutinize?  It would seem that YOU yourself have a great deal at stake here."

Aloquar Ordo, Clan Ordo Chieftain, Governor of Ordo: "I would suggest that this group of clan leaders select and confirm the Delegation, Baron Prosstang."

Pre Vizsla: [Eyes rolling up, with an incredulous tone of voice and an expansive, dramatic wave of his hand from across his chest] "Aloquar Ordo?...Haven't seen you in years..."

Ferrigo: "Governor Ordo, I am empowered to accept your proposal. And so it shall be. You all, as clan chieftains, will select your representation. I will still lead the Delegation..."

Pre Vizsla: "That still smacks of illegitimacy, Prosstang."

Ferrigo: "Watch yourself, Vizsla. Your Mand'alor has called for support.  And the words and tone you offer here before our gathering border on slander."

Bo-Katan Kryze, Clan Kryze Deputy Representative: "How so?! He is only stating the obvious! We are getting taken to the cleaners and you're trying to put a happy face on it!!"

Beviin Kabur, Clan Kabur Chieftain, Deputy Governor of Concord Dawn: "Woah! [Putting his hand palm up in Bo-Katan's direction from the opposite table] K'uur, dala."

Bo-Katan: [Seething] "Kabur, I will fill your mouth with knuckle and blade if you talk to me like that again!"

Beviin Kabur's eyes grew large in mock fear.

Tarl Bralor, Clan Bralor Chieftain, Concord Dawn Southwest Sector Administrator: [pointing at Bo Katan, after glancing at Beviin Kabur] "Ne'johaa dawoor'yc striil!!"

Bo Katan's pale green eyes immediately lit with fury, and she rose to climb the sturdy veshok table, fists shaking as a violent stream of profanity scathed all in their path to Tarl Bralor. Bralor and Kabur seemed mirthful at this display of Mandalorian spirit.

Ferrigo: "ENOUGH!!!"

Aloquar Ordo: "Enough. Everyone calm.  We have a lot of concerns, as Mand'alor says. Shared concerns. Just because he leads a business does not mean he has no concern for our welfare. From our discussions, I believe that Ferrigo Prosstang is seeking a way for us to ensure that all of us are not trampled or forgotten."

Ferrigo: "Thank you, Aliit'alor Ordo. That is exactly what I am trying to get to. We will be voiceless if we continue to bicker.  I do not want any of our people to suffer an occupation. From here to Sundari, from Mandalore to Dxun. I am also concerned that some of us may believe that violence will make the problems of the Sundarians and other Excision Zone regions throughout Mandalorian Space disappear..."

Vhollt Skirata, Clan Skirata Representative: "Let's get on with it. Let's vote. We have the list of names in front of us...who here can't read?"

Laughter roared throughout the Great Hall.

Ferrigo: "Now, by a showing of hands, each of you seated around the table may vote three times. The total number of votes for each listed candidate will determine if they are to be seated on the Delegation."

Pre Vizsla: "Your name, Baron Prosstang.  I don't see it here."

Ferrigo looked to the upper gallery and saw a familiar, enchanting face...of someone who should not have been in the Palace.

Beviin Kabur: "Shift your cod piece and get over it, Vizsla. At least for now, Ferrigo Prosstang is Mand'alor."

Pre Vizsla: "A pointless title, really. Is he going to lead us into battle against TaggeCo and Grayson Galactic? Are we going to slice the item codes on consumer products and lower retail prices? What a waste of time!"

As a wave of laughter circulated around the Great Hall, Ferrigo stood up from his chair and picked up his helmet from the table in front of his seat. The laughter quieted as Ferrigo placed the helmet over his head. His audio emitter clicked. He looked upward, around and seemed to be rotating his neck to stretch.

Ferrigo: "All of you gathered here should know a few things. First, I called out and defeated Jango Fett in single combat for the right to call this meeting. Second, he had given up on all of you. Because you had given up on him, and Mandalore. He would not call this meeting as I requested. And third, over ten years ago, my father and uncle were put to slow and painful deaths...deaths without honor."

Walking behind Pre Vizsla's chair, Ferrigo removed his dark-saber from its holster and activated it, a purple glow and small webs of energy emitting from and scattering around the dark crystal shaft. Some of the clan leaders around the table, and their families standing in the galleries above the Great Hall gasped with anxiety.

Ferrigo: "...Less than three months ago, shortly before the tenth anniversary of that tragedy, the conspirators of that crime against my family, my clan, and against honor in Manda'yaim were brought to justice."

Silence. Except for the eerie oscillating hum-whistle of the dark-saber Ferrigo held to his side.

Ferrigo: "Among family, clan, friends and relations...there must be a trust. We, the true sons and daughters of Mandalore must hold to the tenets of the Resol'nare.  In our time, we must hold the peace on Mandalore so that our people may prosper.  The starvation of Mandalorians, regardless of their clan, race, species, or home planet within our realm is the cause of our people. It is the cause of your Mand'alor.  Mand'alor must be able to trust that the clans of Manda'yaim will serve him faithfully when called. He does not ask you to sacrifice your well-being, he asks you to bring forward the most reasonable representation of our communities to ensure that we are not left behind by the New Mandalorians. As Mand'alor, I do not wish to see Satine's ministers commit the release of our sovereignty on the altar of commerce. We all have a vested interest in protecting the prosperity and peace of our homelands. If any of you would work against that peace and prosperity, or wish to challenge your Mand'alor, you should let your Mand'alor know now. I, Mand'alor the Uniter, will be waiting for you near the Eternal Flame with a few insulated bottles of tihaar for the next half hour. Otherwise, carry on with your vote. In the interests of moving this process forward, Mand'alor will stand down from being part of the Delegation."

Ferrigo walked down the steps and out from the Palace as voices of loud dissent clashed in cacophony, sitting on the edge of the casing of the Eternal Flame. Thoughts cascaded through his mind, and he pulled up his helmet to swig tihaar from one of the flasks.

''She's here. The beautiful kid with the dazzling green eyes. Why?''

- She cares.

''Why? For what? For who?''

-Search your feelings, you know the answers.

''Aren't you my feelings?! ... She's here for business, then, right?''

-Like you, her reasons for being here...and now...are many.

Why are you speaking to me?

-You shall come to know, guide and fulfill The Messenger who knows not The Message.

''That was helpful. Reeaally helpful. Thanks. Why can't you just relay the message yourself?''

After half an hour and two emptied flasks of tihaar later, Ferrigo proceeded to The Itchy Strill tapcaf to drink a few pints of netra'gal, and further consider his...thoughts. He learned later that the vote resulted in clans Ordo, Kabur, Skirata and Vizsla representing the Delegation when the New Mandalorians and the corporations arrived to meet. Many of the clan leaders and families packed themselves into and around The Itchy Strill to congratulate the new Mand'alor and his show of strength. He learned much later that Grayson Galactic would be providing humanitarian aid  to the Excision Zone, and TaggeCo would be providing logistics support in the same area. The clans would not rise against these efforts, and would be paid by corporate staff to consult when requested.

He decided he would stay out of the way of these relief efforts, and made a conscious effort to stay away from the beautiful blonde girl with dazzling green eyes. Even when he heard from some of the farming families in the southern reach of the Prosstang Region that Grayson Galactic had set up a relief operations camp at an old, abandoned monastery overlooking a fertile canyon, he pushed back the desire to check up on her. The visions continued, but he refused to respond to them.

The Clone Wars Begin
In 22 BBY, the Clone Wars began, and quickly spread through the galaxy. Ferrigo heard news from other bounty hunters about the death of Jango Fett on Geonosis at the Petranaki arena. While he was sad that he would not see his childhood friend again, anytime he saw a clone trooper remove his helmet he couldn't stifle a slight grin that each of these men looked very much like Jango. Ferrigo followed the news and heard of the ascendance of Count Dooku as the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems (Separatists). He considered what Dooku had told him about the Sith and the Republic many years ago, and decided to avoid getting too deeply involved in any of the politics...staying clear and centered on what was in the interests of Mandalorian sovereignty and security. He kept himself busy, away from Mandalore fulfilling contracts for a variety of clients, while keeping tabs on the domestic situation in Mandalore.

 The Blockade of Mandalore and Meeting Alpha ARC-47 Boomdodger (22 BBY)

Beneath the Blockade
"Baron Ferrigo be Prosstang," the Duchess Satine Kryze said with a smooth and even voice that underlined her noble bearing. Or pretense. Ferrigo was contacted by the Duchess Satine Kryze in secret to discreetly collect intelligence about the effective and long-enduring blockade of Mandalore. After several months of investigating the various factions potentially involved in the blockade, most especially Separatist, Republic and Death Watch, Ferrigo reported back to Satine.

Ferrigo: "Duchess. My 'people in the fold' report that Pre Vizsla has made an arrangement with the Trade Federation to siphon goods into the black market since Almec has been emprisoned. The Death Watch are attempting to mediate the market without your hand, Highness."

Satine: "Is that all?"

Ferrigo: "No. The Grand Army of the Republic under the leadership of General Kenobi will soon be entering neutral systems as a show of their resolve. They too will not be seeking your permission in acting to control our future, your Highness." Sensing her displeasure, he added, "Duchess. Say only one word, and I shall call on our people of iron to loyally and honorably protect the interests of all of Mandalore under your government."

Satine: "No. Mandalore shall not turn to violence to maintain the peace, Baron Prosstang. Despite your repeated calls for military action, and the fact that you have taken on the title of Mand'alor in violation of our laws, I have restrained the Cabinet from placing you and others into custody. I will let you know if I need your loyal services further."

Ferrigo: "Don't wait too long to make the call, Duchess. The time of peace is running out.  Our people have earned a good life. We will stand and fight to protect Mandalore, and that prospect of a good life, if need be. That is a promise..."

Satine: "And a threat?"

Ferrigo: [turning and walking away to the entry] "...to those who would have the people of Mandalore answer to the rule of force by aruetii ."

For Mandalore and Clan
Within two weeks, Ferrigo was aboard a small freighter with Corellian markings, with a ten man detachment of Republic clone commandos led by Alpha ARC-47, Captain Boomdodger. Prosstang was asked by Satine to present himself as Pebak Ummarn, a Republic-friendly businessman needing an escort from the Mandalorian Sector to Corellia. During their travel toward Corellia, Ferrigo sensed an awareness from ARC-47. They talked about the travel plan, and the role of the Republic in the Outer Rim, and the qualities of fine food and companionship.

Ferrigo: "I'm surprised. You know quite a bit about life beyond soldiering."

ARC-47: "Really? We were friends once, Snake. Jango wasn't just a template."

Ferrigo: "I've never met you before. What are you talking about?"

ARC-47: "I'd be lying if I said we weren't flash-trained to memorize an archive of possible threats and assets to the welfare of the Republic. Including Ferrigo Prosstang. Likely Separatist sympathizer. Arms maker and dealer. Mandalorian mercenary. One of Jaster Mereel's men during the Mandalorian Civil War. Family abducted around ten years ago. Threat level: Moderate. But even more, I remember you. I believe I have some of Jango's memories."

Ferrigo: "Impressive fiction, ARC-47."

ARC-47: "Call me Boomdodger. Please."

Ferrigo: "Why?"

ARC-47: "Fierfek, I'm a man, Pross. And though I've never met you before, don't you think I've earned the right as a sentient being to name myself? I call myself Boomdodger. Shall I call you Mr. Ummarn?"

As Prosstang pondered this conversation in confusion, a heavy and sudden jolt knocked him and Boomdodger from their seats on medium sized crates. Many packages strapped above, now freed from their fastenings, flew about the hold. The interior lighting switched to throbbing red while the alert siren cried in synchronicity. A hiss sounded, and the clone commandos who could lay their hands on their helmets pulled them on tightly. Ferrigo felt his legs weaken as he tried to stand up again. He vision faded to darkness as he passed out.

Boomdodger picked up and loaded Prosstang over his left shoulder and carried him into the passenger cabin. Other clone troopers assisted Boomdodger in securing Ferrigo quickly into a seat harness. Boomdodger called over Helix, a clone trooper medic, to tend to Ferrigo's injuries.

Ferrigo awoke to find himself looking up at a dark, overcast sky and Boomdodger firing a DC-17m from behind the cover of torn and bent durasteel panels. When Prosstang asked what happened and where they were, Boomdodger replied, "We were taken down by a small armada of pirate ships over Tarnith, Snake!  You have been out for hours.  All the rest of our crew and team have been taken out.  We're down to 4 shab'la plasma clips on my Deece!"

Ferrigo: "Why didn't you leave me behind?!"

Boomdodger: "Snake! I am NOT gonna leave my friend behind! Helix said you'd be okay!  No brain damage! [Pausing to fire a few shots over the barrier] He gave you quite the load of sedatives!" A heavy laser bolt hitting the bulk of an escape pod twenty feet to their rear created a tight, short concussion that knocked the breath out of both men.

Ferrigo: [Coughing]"My suitcase?!"

Boomdodger: [Pointing to escape pod] "Over there somewhere!"

Ferrigo: "I'll be back!"

On his return in full beskar'gam and helmet, Ferrigo removed a large dome-covered durasteel disc from a duraplast case, and worked his fingers around the edges of the disc to disengage several locking mechanisms. With a hiss, the disc flew out toward the unseen enemies. Boomdodger fired several rounds into the brush to suppress enemy fire on the device as it expanded, dome-lid popping up to reveal two black perforated barrels and a tripod quickly releasing its feet to provide stability for what had become a turret. A turret of concentrated and automated turbolaser death. In addition, Ferrigo fired a micro-electron disruptor missile from his jetpack mount.

Within three minutes, there was no more return fire. Boomdodger and Ferrigo had taken out the pirates.

Adopting Boomdodger
Following several clandestine meetings and occasional adventures with Boomdodger on various planets over the next six months, Ferrigo sensed that the Fett clone was in need of connection - he was seeking a confirmation of his identity beyond a Grand Army of the Republic-assigned number. Prosstang had also heard through the informal networks among Mandalorian clans associated with Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians that preparations were being made for a major disruption in the Grand Army of the Republic, despite belief among Mando'verde that the depth of the Separatist threat was being over-sold.

Ferrigo: "Boom...you have gone out of your way to lend a hand on several minor assignments for me.  And then there was that crisis you got involved in on Bandomeer."

Boomdodger: "I've tired of the work the GAR is giving us, Fer'k. It's like a shell game. I'm tired of serving as a slave to a command that doesn't really give a shebs about the shabla direction we're getting. You know me..."

Ferrigo: "Uncanny. I always feel like I'm talking to Jango."

Boom: "We both know I'm not him, but...I am..."

Ferrigo: "You should be setting your own course, Boom. Just as Jango did. I'd like to help you move in that direction..."

Boom: "What...what do you mean?"

Ferrigo: "Boom.  Have you heard of the Null ARCs and the Cuy'val Dar?"

Boom: "Of course. Every clone knows something about the Null ARCs...and their trainers."

Ferrigo: "Well, I have it on good word that there are opportunities for Fett clones to go 'Cuy'val Dar' in my neighborhood on Mandalore."

Boom: "I know you know me like Jango, but I also know that you and your clan aren't big on welcoming outsiders. We've talked about this, Pross. And clones are outsiders."

Ferrigo: "Boom, I am your friend, you have become like a little brother to me. Much the same way Jango did."

Boom: "So, what do you mean, 'go Cuy'val Dar'..."

Ferrigo: "I'll get to the point.  Do you want out of the GAR?"

Boom: "Yeah, I guess, but-"

Ferrigo: "If given a new chance at a life, free of commands issued by aruetiise who care nothing for your life, the fire in your heart, the light in your eyes...would you accept it?"

Boom: "Yeah."

Ferrigo: "Would you care to embrace what your soul knows of its roots - your connection to Jango Fett?"

Boom: "Well, of course. Pross, what're you getting at?"

Ferrigo: "When offered a set of Mandalorian beskar'gam, the skin of our people, will you wear it and decorate it with honor and pride, as I do?"

Boom: "Uh...yes, Pross...bu-"

Ferrigo: "Will you learn and speak Mando'a, teaching it to your children, whether by birth or adoption?"

Boom: "Yes..."

Ferrigo: "Will you defend yourself, your family, your clan, as a Mandalorian?"

Boom: "Of course..."

Ferrigo: "Will you raise your children as Mandalorians, teaching them the ways of honor, culture and proficiency in combat as defenders of our way of life?"

Boom: "Elek, Pross."

Ferrigo: "Will you contribute to your clan's welfare, and when called upon by your Aliit'alor or the Mand'alor, rally to their cause?"

Boom: "It sounds good, but Pross, I don't have a..."

Ferrigo: "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad Boomdodger."

Boom: "Pross, I don't have a clan, or a family for that matter!"

Ferrigo: " You do now. By those words, I recognize you as my son. You are of the Clan Prosstang, Rafrego Solus-Linnago Velrrus Family Line.  Honor us, Boomdodger Gai Prosstang."

Boom: [Lowering to one knee] "I...I...don't know what to say."

Ferrigo: "Think about cutting your ties to the old job and life, Boom'ika.  Prepare for a life of freedom.  It won't be easy, but the choices will most often be your own. Your identity will have the protection of our clan, though I recommend a new first name for you...[thinks for a moment]...the name Buuth goes back far in our clan history."

Boom: "Whatever. I prefer Boom."

Ferrigo: "That is fine among trusted friends, but we need to plan for your GAR death so they don't find you ever again."

 Embattled Business, a Love Blooms, and the Return of Handalora (22 BBY)

The Public Battle for Prosstang Industries Begins
As the Clone Wars severely disrupted what was left of his industrial-scale operations, and Ferrigo indicated a willingness to allow the board of directors to shed several branches of Prosstang Industries in sales to conglomerates, including many of the consumer goods product lines. In specific to his concerns about Mandalorian independence being undermined by unrestrained trade with conglomerates, he arranged a meeting with the board of Prosstang Industries, and the young representatives of TaggeCo and Grayson Galactic at the Prosstang Castle on Mandalore. Ferrigo had many misgivings about meeting with Alexzandria Grayson - the visions he had three years before did not cease, and at times only intensified in clarity. His relationship with Gela had fallen apart.

Ferrigo Prosstang: "Welcome to the Prosstang Estate. We hope you have been and will continue to enjoy your stay..."

Alexzandria Grayson: "Thank you..."

Orman Tagge: "Baron Prosstang, I am Orman Tagge, House of Tagge.  Here to represent Tagge Company and its subsidiaries.  A real pleasure to meet you. Your reputation...exceeds the boardroom. My mother, the Baroness Sanya Tagge sends her regards from the esteemed House of Tagge to the Clan Prosstang."

Ferrigo Prosstang: "You are...so young, Master Tagge." [Turning from Orman Tagge toward the young lady representing Grayson Galactic] "Lady Grayson.  My, how you've grown and blossomed...in the three years since you last graced Mandalore...long years indeed that you now appear very much the beautiful and commanding woman suited to your role."

Ms. Grayson: [A brief, sharp glance at Ferrigo at the end of his last words; which softened] "I am pleased to be here. However, there is much work to do. We should get to the purpose of this meeting so we can align our resources and proceed."

Jannigo Prosstang: [Standing] "This meeting is to confirm that subsidiary assets of Prosstang Industries identified on your data pads are being appraised and prepared for disposition of sale to one or the other of your firms. We, the Board of Directors, see your firms as having the most to offer among the range of suitors."

Long silence as Ferrigo estimated the visitors over his raised and steepled hands.

Tagge: [Stroking his cropped goatee] "We are at this meeting to acquire Prosstang Mining, Prazs'tang Power Technologies, and any and all contracts associated with vehicle-mounted armaments...for a start."

Jannigo: "Armaments are not on the table, Mr. Tagge. Certainly not on your data pads. You might want to have your eyes examined."

Ferrigo: "K'uur, Jan'k."

Felkhi Prazs'tang, Chief Operating Officer: "Before we discuss any further details of what we are putting forward, Prosstang Industries should want to see your financial proposal packages. Mr. Tagge? Ms. Grayson?"

Tagge: "You are in no position to call for financials. We can pick your carcass CLEAN."

Ferrigo: [Gazing firmly at the breathtakingly beautiful young woman, eyes sparkling green in the morning light] "Do you agree with young Master Tagge, Ms. Grayson?"

Ms. Grayson: "About what? If you mean the financials, he is not speaking for me, nor for Grayson Galactic." [Looking deeply into Ferrigo's eyes until he shifted with slight discomfort in his chair] "But, Prosstang Industries is not in a position of strength. That is why we are here."

Jannigo: "Respect!! We should spank these two children for dictating terms!"

Ferrigo: [Motioning his hand palm downward toward his cousin] "K'uur, Jannigo...k'uur."

Ms. Grayson: "Baron Prosstang - you should know I've been working with the Mandalorian people in the Excision Zone on and off for the last three years to aid them in meeting their basic food, shelter and clothing needs. Not sure if that means I've graced 'Mandalore', ...Mand'alor..." [Gazing at Ferrigo, with her index fingers extended and separated by the width of her shoulders] "...but I am not here to punish the Mandalorian people. I'm here to do business that will benefit Grayson Galactic, Prosstang Industries, and the markets for our goods."

Ferrigo: [Seeming to have caught his breath] "There is much of the Accord of Prosstang Palace from the convention of clans that seems to have been...ignored."

Ms. Grayson: "If you believe that we were not intended to receive concessions to supplement the weakness of local market resources and supply chains..."

Tagge: "You are fools! The lot of you! Enough talk about charity and concession!"

Jannigo: "Ferrigo, this haar'chakla di'kut needs an ori'shebse kicking."

Tagge: [Standing from his seat and sweeping his right hand as his glance moved from Jannigo to Ferrigo] "Watch your threats, Prosstangs. The House of Tagge has far greater influence than you can imagine."

Ferrigo: "Jan'k! K'uur!" [Turning to Orman Tagge] "Look, Tagge, are you ready for business, or do you also need tutoring in manners?"

Tagge: [Throwing hands up in a gesture] "I'm done here.  We will be taking what we want, on our terms..." [Looking down at Ms. Grayson, as if appraising her like a gem] "Everything."

Ms. Grayson: [Continuing to gaze into Ferrigo's eyes] "I don't think so."

Tagge: "Ms. Grayson - do you believe that Grayson Galactic is in a power position in corporate raiding because you sit here - at this table?" [Motioning a negating wipe with his hand] "This is a small gorg in the overall scheme of galactic trade...you'd better watch yourself. The holdings of Grayson Galactic might be in visual range of the playing field."

Ms. Grayson: "Grayson Galactic aren't corporate raiders. You haven't done your homework--"

Ferrigo: "Tagge. You should realize that to Mandalorian clans, you are speaking to their ruler. I can make your prospects in Mandalorian Space...impractical. And I won't have you disrespect Ms. Grayson."

Tagge: "Mandalore the Protective, are you? She is much, much too young for your aged tongue, Baron. She is more suited for a stallion...[touching his hand to his chest]...who can back his words."

Ferrigo: [Abruptly pushing up out of his chair] "That's enough jare'la sleemo. Leave now or forever hold your head!"

Tagge: "You are not Mand'alor but for the grace of wiser men who choose to manipulate your people's suffering to their benefit."

Ferrigo: [Opening his coat to display the dark saber hanging from his belt] "Kid, you'd better leave, or prepare yourself to return to your masters in several shipments."

Tagge: "This place reeks of failure..."

Ferrigo: "When you leave, welp, the service droids will sanitize in your wake."

Tagge departed with his small entourage under the escort of Prosstang Industries protocol droids.

Ferrigo: "That was uncalled for.  Ms. Grayson, please accept my apologies. For many things." [Turning to Jannigo, Felkhi, and other boardmembers] "Please leave us alone for a few minutes. I will call for your return."

Ferrigo returned to his seat as the Board of Directors and Jannigo left the room, and the doors hissed shut.

Ferrigo: "Now--"

Ms. Grayson: [Smiling, slightly nervously] "I don't know if it's necessary, but thank you...I don't think I'm much too young. Nor you too old."

Ferrigo: [Seeming to contemplate a torrent of thoughts, surprise disconnecting his ability to speak] "I...uhhh...I..."

Ms. Grayson: "Look, Baron Prosstang, Grayson Galactic has already been growing its operations and sales on Mandalore. But even our emergency relief efforts have been very challenging with the terrorism...and the Prime Minister running a black market ring.  But we are here to help your people, even in your own region."

Ferrigo: "Young lady..."

Ferrigo was upset to hear this apparent criticism, but felt himself instead charmed by the compassionate pleading of Alexzandria Grayson. He also felt...the distraction...he experienced at first seeing this talented girl, then a prodigy, now a beautiful and savvy young woman. But his feelings now were much greater than distraction toward Ms. Grayson. He saw flashes of violet light and images of her...and him together...in many places...ways...and consquences. A future? His palms sweating, fingers and stomach tensing. His thoughts and feelings were reeling.

Ms. Grayson: [Smiling brilliantly, looking into Ferrigo's eyes, capturing them in her gaze] "You're not an old man to me, Baron Prosstang. Please call me Alexzandria...As I was saying, Mandalorians suffer and need aid, even in the Prosstang lands outside the Excision Zone.  I see disbelief in your face, but It is TRUE! I have worked among your people in the southern mark of your clan territory. I have cared for the elderly and ill. I can see your anger, and understand it...I mean no disrespect."

Ferrigo: "No...I'm not angry...just...confused..."

Alexzandria (Ms. Grayson): "We are not looking to take over Mandalore, not even to take over your business. We know that your clan and your affiliates...wish to maintain independence. What Grayson Galactic offers is a nomimal change of the status quo. You would maintain a position on the Board of Directors for each of the subsidiaries..."

Ferrigo: [Taking a deep breath, finally composed and resolute, looking directly into Ms. Grayson's eyes] "Why are you reading...and filling my thoughts?"

Alexzandria: "Wha-?!"

Ferrigo: "I can sense you...in my mind. Since the beginning of the meeting. Only now did it become clear to me...and...that you did this to me three years ago..."

Alexzandria: [Flustered surprise marked the movements of her delicate features; her eyes, mouth and hands especially] "I...I didn't and haven't done anything!  Maybe you are thinking something that isn't happening. Like I'm attracted to you or something like you're attracted to me?"

Ferrigo: [Smiling] "It's not my imagination. And YOU know that.  But you haven't just captivated my attention...there is something more you are doing to me.  And though you ARE formidable...and powerful for your age you are not a good liar, Alexzandria Grayson. Maybe it's your inexperience I should attribute this to. But whether we find each other attractive or not, I need to speak clearly from my own thoughts about the business at hand."

Alexzandria: "I don't know what to..." [Ferrigo putting up two fingers to his lips and pushed out his breath to imitate the sound of ocean surf pushing against the beach sand]

Ferrigo: [Waving his fingers, and impressing a thought unspoken into their conversation] "I had no involvement with the Almec scandal.  I am also not a supporter of terrorism in our home systems. Though I have issues with the New Mandalorian government, they are primarily concerned with maintaining sovereignty, security and independence...and letting the clans conduct themselves in defense of our ways of life, not in aggression against our legitimate government.  Terrorism and corruption are an embarassment to Mandalore."

Alexzandria: "But, aren't you involved in the efforts to sabotage Grayson Galactic in these Mandalorian markets?!"

Ferrigo: "No.  Are you kidding me?  I may be disappointed in the direction the Duchess and the Ministers have taken our recovery.  I don't believe that hiring non-Mandalorian corporations is a sustainable strategy for providing long-term security and independence. And, as you must know by now, the clans outside of the Excision Zone don't need...and they certainly don't want you there."

Alexzandria: "I don't believe that is true.  We are helping Mandalore.  Like I said, we are helping your people. They too are in need.  With the best of intentions, my people are respecting the boundaries you set out three years ago at your convention, Mand'alor.  But, Grayson Galactic wants your help.  I want your help."

Ferrigo: "You want my help....what does that mean?  I see you in my mind's eye, Alexzandria Grayson...like a memory, or vision...and I am doing things with you that are...unspeakable...and utterly out of decorum."

Alexzandria: [A look of concern and embarrassment spreading across her comely facial features] "Are we in pain?"

Ferrigo: "Uhhhh....not quite. In fact, much the oppo-..."

Alexzandria: [Blurting] "--I am seeing this too!  We are doing things...together...But it can't be right!  I am in great danger with you, Baron Prosstang.  My life is very different from yours!  I can't change who I am!"

Ferrigo: [Calmly and evenly, though his insides were shaking with anxiety and anticipation] "You are The Messenger...who knows not The Message, aren't you?  You have something to share...and you don't know what it is yet."

Alexzandria Grayson fell softly back into her seat and seemed to shrink, face suddenly pale and ashen, an edge of vulnerability visible in her eyes, and her lower lip trembling as she regarded Ferrigo.

Alexzandria: [Brow tightening, and slightly defensive in tone] "How can you know this?"

Ferrigo: [Diverting from the subject, attempting to put up an energetic screen between Alexzandria Grayson and himself to block this overwhelming sense of connection, and lack of control between them] "I'm not sure I can help Grayson Galactic directly.  I think we, and by 'we' I mean the selected clan leaders, went down this path of discussion three years ago...those leaders and I only agreed to support the proposition that you and the other firms would provide emergency aid and agricultural products and training for locals in the Excision Zone. And I said nothing about supporting your takeover of my clan's businesses."

Alexzandria: "I find it insulting that you can think...NO, that you can NOT think or can NOT see that I have invested myself, my personal time and efforts, and the resources of Grayson Galactic into truly helping your people. Some of this work I have done without the knowledge of my parents and our Board of Directors.  And that now you try to hide from what we both see but DON'T want to know!"

Ferrigo: "Oh, to the contrary, Alexzandria Grayson. In the deepest recesses of my heart...I am afraid...but I do want to know. Even though I feel my utter ruination approaches. [Trying to change the subject again, with a wave of his hand] Honestly. I didn't realize that you were personally involved in the efforts. My thoughts...have been elsewhere, as you now know from a glimpse."

Alexzandria: [Gazing deeply into Ferrigo's eyes] "Are you NOT Mand'alor? But somehow, I don't think you can see what I have seen...."

Ferrigo: "I will come to see you-- I mean, see what you are doing for my people."

Alexzandria: [Sitting up straight, appearing stunned] "Your daughter."

Ferrigo: [Shocked] "What?!"

Alexzandria: "I'm sorry...I am...nevermind."

Ferrigo: "What?! No!  Please tell me!"

Alexzandria: "They're coming.  I shouldn't have said anything. I don't know what I'm talking about!"

Ferrigo: "This is NOT done. You will talk to me!  In the shadows, I am a fearsome bounty hunter, Ms. Grayson.  I will follow you to the ends of the galaxy."

Alexzandria: [Eyes locked onto Ferrigo's, softening as her head turned slightly away] "I now know that to be true...my Mand'alor."

At these last words, Ferrigo lost his breath with a quick exhale as he gazed into Alexzandria Grayson's emerald eyes. He fell back into his chair, slowly, startled. She could see his eyes flashing great pain, anxiety, startled joy, happiness and urgency. The doors slid open, the Prosstang Industries Board of Directors returning. He tried very hard to compose himself with a deep inhale and glance at the ceiling as the doors hissed open. Jannigo looking perturbed, sat down and looked to Ferrigo, then Ms. Grayson.

Jannigo: "Sooooo...."

Alexzandria: [After a deep inhalation, her small hands held the edge of the conference room table] "Grayson Galactic will purchase the consumer goods branches of Prosstang Industries. Fair market value."

Ferrigo looked at both Jannigo and then Alexzandria Grayson.

Jannigo: "We're good with this?"

Tetch Kuporr, Director of Labor Management, Prosstang Industries: "Young lady, your financiers better get out their high limit credit chips."

Alexzandria: [Turning to gaze at Ferrigo] "Over the next month, your CEO and I will come to a reasonable agreement on terms and continuity during transition."

Ferrigo: [Slowly drawling] "Riiigghhht."

Alexzandria: [Standing, bracing on the chair arms and table] "It's time for me to go. Thank you all for considering our offer of collaborative partnership.  Mr. Kuporr, your brother Brelek and cousin Mesh'lara told me to wish you warm greetings." Staring into his blue eyes, Alexzandria said to Ferrigo, "Goodbye Baron Prosstang.  I look forward to seeing you soon to make arrangements for the future that will make everyone happy."

Before Ferrigo could grab or corner Alexzandria Grayson in a sidebar conversation to talk more about her revelation and everything that was unfolding between them, she hastily bid farewell and departed the Castle flight deck in her personal spacecraft. But she had left something behind, next to her chair at the table. She would return, he thought to himself. Or he would bring the item to her...

Jannigo: "That was...er...abrupt."

Felkhi Prazs'tang: "I'm not convinced that the numbers provided by Grayson Galactic will work..."

Ferrigo: [Sternly] "Make...them...work!"

Jannigo and Felkhi [In unison]: "Why?!"

Ferrigo: "Prosstang Industries will not sell to that Tagge brat-scum!!"

Legal Representative of TaggeCo [approaching]: "Baron Prosstang...Are you sure you're in control of this Board to make such a decision?"

Ferrigo: "You should choose your clientele more wisely, counselor. This is none of your business."

TaggeCo Rep: "Not yet...Your Board will have a week to reflect on your leadership. TaggeCo is on the rise.  A majority of your Board must know this, and see that the best deals are with TaggeCo and its partners."

Ferrigo: "TaggeCo doesn't know osik about Mandalore and its people!  And being a key player in the Corporate Sector Authority, they have too many ties to the Confederacy.  That alone should have my Board thinking Grayson Galactic...ALL THE WAY.  Your client's ambitions exceed their ability to deliver to market safely and securely."

TaggeCo Rep: "Is that a threat, Baron Prosstang?  We have witnesses."

Ferrigo: [Turning to climb the stairs quickly ascended by Alexzandria Grayson only minutes before] "Enjoy your stay, counselor...or your return trip home."

After that meeting, Ferrigo and Jannigo agreed to concentrate Prosstang Industries' labor and resources as a boutique arms manufacturer to exclusive clients. The Board, however, was mired in disagreement, and would continue to be as various pieces of Prosstang Industries were contested by the principals and legal representatives of Grayson Galactic, Merr-Sonn, TaggeCo, Korden Outfitting and Surveying, and many others. A series of meetings were scheduled for the Commerce Directorate of the Galactic Courts on Coruscant.

The Return of Handalora
For several weeks of meditation sessions, Ferrigo had visions. A few days after the business meeting with Orman Tagge and Alexzandria Grayson, he sensed a disturbance in the Force during a meditation. Within three days a vision came to pass. He was still surprised and ecstatic when the vision had materialized - his oldest daughter Hand'alora stood at the doorstep of Prosstang Palace! At 17 years old, she had matured much in the ten years that had gone by.

Ferrigo: "NER'ADIKA HAND'IKA!!!"

Hand'alora: "Father!"

Speechless for many minutes, Ferrigo embraced his daughter, looking upon her as tears ran down their faces. She seemed weary, and he sensed great pain in her.

Ferrigo: "I am unbelievably happy to see you, my precious daughter. I thought you were dead…"

Hand'alora: "I am happy to be…[she hesitated while glancing around the great hall, seeming to note the changes of décor]...with you."

Over the next several days, before he needed to prepare himself for a trip to Concordia, he and Hand'alora spoke of the lost years. It was painful for Ferrigo to hear that it was unlikely that her mother and youngest brother survived for long after being incarcerated in harsh conditions. Lorakada fought against her captors a number of times, but without her left hand and any weapons...And Jaster was barely old enough to walk, which was made more difficult by the absence of most of his right arm. Hand'alora could not remember if Preniik or Nor'atine, her older brother and younger sister, were with her for long. Ferrigo was utterly in emotional shambles.

Ferrigo: "I looked for you...and the rest of our dear family for years after you were all taken…Who did this? And where were you taken?"

Hand'alora: "I was taken to a place where there is little light any time of day, any time of year. There were people with pale white skin. A brutal people. With even more brutal human masters."

Ferrigo: "Who are they? Where is this place?"

Hand'alora: "They were Sith, father. I believe the place, the first place at least, was called Umbara. You must be prepared to hear something disturbing, father."

Hand'alora told her father that over a period of two years from the time of her abduction, she had been tortured and re-educated...indoctrinated into the ways of the Sith. She had even developed Force powers as a Dark Acolyte. From the time she was around ten years old until she was fourteen, few memories were her own. And since the time she reached fifteen years of age, a Dark Lord of the Sith with great and unimaginable powers would occasionally arrive to despoil her under the threat of severe punishment for resisting. This beast of a human would also tell her that her family was dead, and that her father had been broken before he died. The name of this Sith was Darth Tyranus. The only thing she held onto for all the years was her anger.

Ferrigo came to the stunning realization that the Sith who tormented his daughter might also be the man who hired his long-time friend Jango Fett to be cloned and then train Republic soldiers...and very well could be Count Dooku. A fury built within Prosstang. He excused himself from the room, returning a few minutes later to ask Hand'alora to go with him to the home of a Skirata relative. Ferrigo and Handalora would have minimal direct contact in order to minimize the risk that both could be harmed by their enemies. In secret, Hand'alora would return frequently to the Prosstang Estate to practice her light saber skills and use of the Force. She would also train with her father at secure locations in Mandalorian warrior combat techniques. Ferrigo was impressed by the quickness of Hand'alora's ability to absorb and apply teachings. He also imparted some of the wisdom passed to him by the Jedi regarding self-discipline and maintaining a calm center of focus amid torrents of anger.

Hand'alora: "Father...I am sorry for your pain, as much as my own.  But...there is something about you."

Ferrigo: "Yes, Hand'ika...I have had years of pain."

Hand'alora: "It is mixed with recent joy for you?"

Ferrigo: [Caught off guard] "About seven years ago...I sadly had given up on your mother returning to me.  A distant cousin of ours, Gela Tre'vhek..."

Hand'alora: "Father...not Gela...someone else.  And besides, I know Gela."

Ferrigo: "I'm so glad she and Jannigo found a way to secure your freedom!"

Hand'alora: "I saw a lot of Gela, father..."

Ferrigo: "What do you mean? You just escaped."

Hand'alora: "Gela Tre'vhek was in league with our captors.  She helped coordinate the abduction... And for all these years...she relayed messages to Tyranus updating him on what you were doing, when, where and why.  As I recovered my sanity...my integrity...I used my talents to eavesdrop on Gela when she reported on you to Tyranus. It gave me hope.  But also concern for you.

Ferrigo: "I ....Gela...she loves me...."

Hand'alora: "She served a master.  And it wasn't you, father."

Ferrigo: [Looking at Hand'alora's eyes]  My child...beautiful daughter...I am so sorry that I didn't find you...and save you. I will go see Gela and straighen this out."

Hand'alora: "I'm alive, father.  I can't say the same for Gela."

Ferrigo: [Staggering beyond the stunning news already received] "I...Gela..."

Hand'alora: "There is another joy in you, father.  Reach for her, and embrace her."

Ferrigo: "It's YOU, Hand'alora!"

Hand'alora: "No.  And you know who I'm talking about.  Stop denying your destiny.  Go to her.  I will be fine here with our cousins.  Cousin Jannigo can take care of me."

Ferrigo sat down for a long while, processing all Hand'alora had told him. His long-time aide and consort had betrayed him utterly for years. And he could not see the deception. Had he chosen to blind himself to the reality? Though he grappled with grief for losing Gela and what love he thought they had, he finally resolved to make an appointment to see Alexzandria Grayson and her field team on Mandalore in the next week.

Meeting Alexzandria and her Team
Within a few days, Ferrigo left Prosstang Town to pay a visit to the Grayson Galactic Emergency Relief Aid Team, and the enchanting Alexzandria Grayson.

''I love her. Can't stop thinking about her. And...her love for me.''

Looking to the ceiling of the Prosstang Palace, he had groaned aloud, "I haven't even touched my hand to her cheek, let alone kiss her sweet lips. How can this be right?"

"I don't know, Dad. But you'd better get your sheb'se in gear," he heard Hand'alora's voice from one of the upstairs galleries. He chuckled, bid a loud farewell and went downstairs, and through the dungeon access door to his waiting Balutar-class speeder. He made his way to the Prosstang Castle landing pad and his awaiting personal swoop, Prasz'la, with a small bag containing among other things the item Alexzandria Grayson had left behind several days before.

======

A stiff cross-breeze returned his thoughts to the task at hand, and Ferrigo guided his sloop into an approach of the small village of Rhell'cyok, at the southern reach of the Prosstang Region, or Kaitom'prosstang. As his sloop made an arcing motion following a half-ring of tall escarpments, he looked below his left wing for a clearing in the canyon below. He caught sight of the hulking and foreboding ruin of the Prasztang'la Abbey which quickly disappeared to his right and above as Prosstang maneuvered a slight downward curve.

Entering the canyon, he coaxed the controls into a tight counter-clockwise curl, fighting a sturdy, buffeting wind. He held the steering controls to the left and downward before leveling out and activating his landing systems. The wings quickly rotated to an upright position and the sloop chuffed into soft soil as it came to a rest. Within two minutes of his landing, unbuckled from his flight harness, Ferrigo finalized a routine inspection of the flight systems. Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw a slight figure wearing a flapping dark grey poncho over a light beige tunic and a male of medium height wearing a long brown cloak with cowl pulled back. As both approached his sloop from the front, he prepared his Prosstang Select Arms blaster pistol, and tucked it into his holster.

As he felt his pockets for the documents and the item he intended to return to Alexzandria Grayson, he shifted in his seat, and shook his head slightly. "Seeing things again?" he asked aloud.

-The Messenger...

''Why do I feel so...strongly attracted to her? So deeply...in love? She's almost only a third my age...''

-Age should not be confused with wisdom.

"Thanks, again." Ferrigo seemingly said to himself, slightly exasperated.

He grabbed his black durafelt hat and placed it on his head. "Pull it together, Pross." He activated the console button to open the keel ramp to the sloop, turned the seat to the center of the ship and rose to his feet. A stiff breeze carrying a dusting of scree onto the ramp of the sloop buffeted his face and hands as he exited the ship, pulling his cape down around his right shoulder. He activated one of the security features of Prasz'la, a rectangular rayshield that kept the sloop ramp hatch housing and cabin free of debris. When programmed, the rayshield could also split objects intersecting its level plane.

Once away from the ramp of the white-bottomed sloop by a few long strides, Ferrigo stood with his legs slightly apart waiting for the approaching pair.

Parade rest. Mer'buir. It's her...

Ferrigo took a deep breath and opened his hands palms up, spreading and raising his arms to suggest expansiveness as his cape flapped wildly in the direction of the Abbey ruin behind him, "Welcome to Rhell'cyok, and the marklands of my people, the Clan Prosstang!" he shouted above the rising wind.

"Baron! Let's get inside the Kuporr vheh'yaim! Where we can all talk!" Alexzandria Grayson motioned with a casual wave of her hand. The young man trailed Ferrigo and Alexzandria under the tough animal hide flap covering as they entered the mud covered dome that served as an anteroom to the home.

The group shook loose some of the dust from their clothing and hung their cloaks and capes on sturdy wooden pegs projecting from the hand-fashioned mud walls before Alexzandria Grayson spoke, looking directly into Ferrigo's eyes.

"Aliit'alor Prosstang...olarom vheh'yaim be Dhettos bal Mi'ila Kuporr...'ner balyc' ehn simire," she finished touching the center of her chest with her fingertips.

"Your mando'a is perfect, Ms. Grayson. And thank you." Ferrigo regarded the young man with tanned skin and a line of facial hair below his lower lip. His dark features were framed by a long sweep of braided hair resting now on his left shoulder. "And you are?"

"I'm Syral.  Syral Barken. The emergency relief aid field coordinator."

"I believe we met," Ferrigo cast a subtle glance over Syral Barken. "Three years ago at Sundari."

Alexzandria interjected. "Yes, he was with me when Grayson Galactic offered help to your government."

"So, you set up here in Rhell'cyok. Any particular reason why?" Ferrigo looked at Syral, who stood stoically with arms folded, then to Alexzandria.

Syral responded quickly. "A good location, good soils, and among the best farmers we've found in the area."

"In many ways, the people of Rhell'cyok..." Alexzandria's green eyes narrowed their gaze on Ferrigo before she continued "Your people...are teaching us...how to help the rest of Mandalore's farmers with knowledge about the soils, typical indications of infestation and blight for a wide variety of crops.  Just as you said they would." She smiled warmly and sincerely.

Ferrigo opened his hands. "I don't know what to say, except thank you."

-I want more.

He was startled to hear Alexzandria's voice so clearly in his mind without her lips moving. He looked at her and then Syral. "It has taken me a long time to say, but I am glad your team is here."

"Well, for my part, I'm pleased that you see things differently than you did three years ago." Syral smiled.

Ferrigo, looked at Alexzandria. "Me too. So much has changed." And I want to embrace fully what I have seen.

Alexzandria seemed to blush slightly, and coyly turned away. -Not here...my Mand'alor...A place where we can talk alone.

Ferrigo shifted his weight a little, his mind in two modes, sharing a few words about the circumstances in which Mandalorians of all walks found themselves struggling and his ecstatic joy at having his daughter Hand'alora return home after more than ten years in captivity; while having what was clearly evident to him a conversation with Alexzandria without a spoken word.

''There is a place my mother used to talk about. We will go there....I can't believe this is happening...your words at the meeting, my daughter's return...''

Alexzandria turned from Ferrigo as a strikingly handsome young man with long black hair emerged up the steps and into the anteroom from what had to be the kitchen area. He introduced himself as Zak Reddel, and he let them know that dinner was ready. Wafting smells of fragrant, savory herbed meat invaded the anteroom, and soon after Ferrigo was greeted by Dhettos and Mi'ila Kuporr and their two young girls.

Dinner was decidedly delicious to all.

After helping clean the dishes, Zak Reddel and Syral Barken sat back down at the table, eyeing Ferrigo. With Alexzandria apparently taking time with the Kuporrs on other matters upstairs, the young men and Ferrigo shared a few minutes of awkward silence and occasional comments left begging responses.

"So," Ferrigo looked back at both young men. "How many people are on your team?"

"Five, in support of Miss Grayson," Barken spoke up. Ferrigo sensed tension reaching from Barken toward him.

Ferrigo, concentrated for a moment on Ministerial meeting from over three years before. "Any animal husbandry or livestock specialists?" Both young men seemed very reluctant to answer. "Any...women...on this team?"

"No. No women, except Miss Grayson," Reddel responded quickly, then with a slight air of hostility. "And she is not available. You'd better...watch yourself." Barken glanced harshly at Reddel, but softened in a return to gaze at Ferrigo, adding a nod.

"Gentlemen. It's been something of a pleasure talking with you. Until next time," Ferrigo said, nodding and bowing slightly toward the two young men, who did not move from their seats.

On his way out, Ferrigo passed Alexzandria on his way up the steps while she worked on a computer. The Kuporrs shared a warm farewell with their clan chieftain, their Aliit'alor. Once the Kuporrs descended the stairs, he heard them talking with young Ms. Grayson in passing, as he clasped the neck broach of his cloak and gathered his black hat from its wall peg. Alexzandria Grayson emerged into the anteroom as if in a hurry. "You leaving without saying goodbye?"

Only a step away from her, he entered into her space. "No," Ferrigo said in deep, quiet voice. Leaning down and in, the Baron Prosstang kissed Alexzandria deeply, his lips locked with hers, his beard against her soft pale skin. His hands slid gracefully behind her back and neck, holding her into him as he burgeoned with joy in at last tasting and holding her sweetness. Alexzandria shuddered with surprise, her hands intially moving to push Ferrigo's arms away. But her hands, electrified for the first time found their way, grasping and caressing his shoulders and then neck. After a half-minute of sharing in this exploratory and blissful hunger for each other, their mouths separated with a loud smack, and each gasped. Ferrigo inhaled and spoke softly. "I have something for you, Ms. Grayson. Meet me to the east of the village. Alone. Two days from now. Share this with no one," he handed Alexzandria a data card.

-''My love. You just made me melt''.

''You amaze me. And take my breath. Be ready for me. Two days''.

Ferrigo could see that he shocked the young and beautiful Alexzandria Grayson. He himself staggered outside the vheh'yaim after tipping his hat and saying goodbye. He gathered himself once strapped into the sloop's pilot seat, exhaling sharply and looking around the control panel before beginning the flight systems check. "Oh my..."

-I can't wait, Ferrigo...but I know I have to... He looked outside the viewport into the night, seeing little light. Most of his relatives in their vheh'yaime of Rhell'cyok had closed up their anterooms to visitors. It was peaceful outside as Ferrigo subdued the cabin lights and finished his flight systems check and firing up of the engine for lift off and departure for Prosstang Town.

''Soon, Alexzandria. You know I can't wait either...''

Surprise Meeting with Alexzandria's father
Almost two days had passed, and Ferrigo had made preparations to visit Alexzandria again, alone and in private at the Sacred Tree, he received a comm from the minor regional spaceport manager. That Maxzimillian Grayson had arrived with a trio of small freighters. Ferrigo rubbed his bearded chin, and contemplated the presence of the CEO of Grayson Galactic. He tapped the comm, "Delay him. You know the drill. Begin the inspections.  Send word to Rhell'cyok that Grayson Galactic needs to send a representative to claim the shipment.  I'll be there in less than 15 minutes." What is he doing here?

"Yes, Aliit'alor." The spaceport manager sounded a bit anxious to Prosstang.

Ferrigo finished packing his gear, and descended the stairs from his suite at the Prosstang Castle. He deactivated the the ray shield that kept the weather out and the Castle secured. He purposefully stepped across the threshhold and walked briskly to the repulsorlift elevator that would deposit him at the landing deck for small craft at Prosstang Town. He strode into the open hatchway of Prasz'la, his personal sloop. He started up the engines and electrical systems with the pressing of a few buttons, and was soon en route to the spaceport at a low altitude.

As Ferrigo slowed and approached the spaceport, he saw a flurry of activity below, many mechanical cargo handlers transporting crates from the hydraulically-lowered freight decks of the Grayson Galactic freighters to a collection of repulsorlift sleds waiting on the tarmac. Prosstang Regional Security inspection teams were plentiful. Good. He tapped the console to activate the comm link with the spaceport manager. "Any progress down there?"

"No, my Lord." The manager sounded a bit more level in his response than earlier.

"Good. I want every crate, box and sack inspected. We're in the early part of growing season. No infestations can be tolerated."

"Yes, my Lord. Our crews have been instructed to ensure thorough care has been taken for every parcel."

Ferrigo landed his sloop, wings raising to an upright position as the ship lowered to the worn, cracked, and sealed duracrete tarmac, two hangar bays away from the hive of activity surrounding the Grayson Galactic vessels. His post-flight system check completed, Ferrigo unfastened the pilot's harness and stepped down to the flight deck. He checked a few other system indicators, put on his long, purple woolen frock coat with black shoulder boards marked with the gold insignia and Mando'a lettering of Prosstang Industries. At last, before opening the bottom ramp hatch and disembarking, he unhooked his black, round, medium brimmed flat-top durafelt hat and placed it firmly on his head.

Warm, moist air greeted Prosstang as he walked surely across the tarmac toward the deputy tarmac chief and a man who even from distance struck Ferrigo's senses as someone having noble bearing. And power. Ferrigo felt a push in his senses, that almost caused him to lose the cadence of his stride. He cleared his mind and continued forward. As he neared the inspection official and the distinguished man wearing a smartly-tailored Corellian suit, Prosstang extended his hand in welcome. "Mr. Grayson. Ferrigo Prosstang, Clan Prosstang Chieftain, Chief Executive Officer of Prosstang Industries."

"Maxzimillian Grayson, Chief Executive Officer, Grayson Galactic Enterprises," taking Ferrigo's hand in greeting, and then assuming a stern demeanor. "Do your crews always undertake such exhaustive inspections? This seems overwhelmingly excessive."

"Mr. Grayson, according to the bills of lading, you are bringing agricultural implements, repair parts, lubricants, and...seeds," Ferrigo looked up from a data pad he received from the deputy tarmac chief, and handed it back, turning to Maxzimillian Grayson, "These are all possibly contaminated with pests and vermin. Given our dire situation, what limited productive agricultural lands and crops we have...must be protected. At any cost."

"I can better appreciate your concerns, in that light." Grayson responded with a hint of apology. "Have my daughter and the Grayson Galactic Relief Aid Team been accommodated?" Maxzimillian Grayson followed Ferrigo toward the spaceport offices.

Ferrigo's thoughts centered for a moment on Alexzandria. My Mand'alor, she said. Prosstang inhaled slightly, "Yes...she and her team, from what I understand, have settled in nicely to one of our villages in the southern reaches of my clan's territory."

"I know she is young...I am hopeful she has made a positive impression on you and your people," Grayson smiled warmly as they entered the office.

Ferrigo, with hesitation only setting in as he finished his first sentence, "She is much wiser than her age. You are blessed with a...wonderful...daughter. She held her own in negotiating with our Board of Directors. I take it your visit is more than a social call or detail for your initial shipment. Are you here to follow up on the negotiations?"

"Not entirely." Maxzimillian Grayson seemed to be considering his host, "I am concerned about reports that there are terrorists operating not only in the Mandalorian Sector, but on Mandalore itself."

"We have had some civil strife in years past. But your daughter is safe here. My people are not terrorists, and they are capable of handling any threats to your emergency relief aid team." Prosstang removed a small data pad from inside his coat pocket and handed it to Grayson, "The terms your daughter and I have discussed.  Of course, there is nothing final until my board approves..."

"Or the Galactic Courts entertain a law suit," Grayson interrupted. "Tagge?" Ferrigo offered with a gesture of his left hand. Grayson nodded gently. Ferrigo continued, "The House of Tagge did not endear themselves with me by sending a demanding and insolent brat to the talks. Coming into the meeting, I really didn't have any preference among your firm and TaggeCo. But Orman Tagge...and his demeanor. That sealed it.  He had no respect for me, but worse, he treated your daughter like an object."

"You have...strong feelings about this situation...don't you, Baron Prosstang?" Maxzimillian Grayson asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ferrigo glanced at Grayson, "Your daughter handled herself well. I believe her words. That she has been sincere in her mission here to aid Mandalore." Grayson sat up as if to speak, when Prosstang got his words out first, "She is safe here. But there is some other danger on her mind. She won't speak of it."

"You?" Grayson half-quipped.

Almost glowering at the older man for an instant, Prosstang chose his next words carefully, until restored to a more peaceful mood. I'm no threat to her. He thought also on what had transpired between him and Alexzandria to that point. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Mr. Grayson."

"Baron Prosstang, Alexzandria is most precious to me. I have plans for her development as a leader in this firm. I won't tolerate any conditions that put her at risk,"  Grayson continued. "Including your feelings for her."

Ferrigo erupted. "What in the third moon of Yavin are you talking about!?"

"Perhaps YOU, Ferrigo Prosstang, see her as an object...for yourself?"

"You are out of line, sir!"

Suddenly, the door slid open. A pilot helmet under her right arm, wearing a long-sleeve brown flannel shirt covered with a grey jerkin, and loose-fitting orange pants,  Alexzandria Grayson strode in with urgency. Her dazzling green eyes were caught immediately in Ferrigo's gaze. My Mand'alor...I am sorry... "Baron Prosstang," then turning to her father. "Father.  What is going on here? I have been waiting for much needed supplies at Rhell'cyok."

My Alexzandria...my fate...my salvation. "Ms. Grayson. Your father and I have been discussing the contents of these freighters."

"Father?" Alexzandria Grayson cast a withering glance at her father. Maxzimillian Grayson and his daughter seemed to be locked in a contest of wills.

"So...it is true," in a soft, paternal voice, Maxzimillian Grayson broke the silence, looking to his daughter, then to Ferrigo. Ferrigo sensed something of a conversation had been transpiring between the Graysons. He felt both exhilirated and troubled at this realization.

Ferrigo spoke. "I have been falling," looking now to Alexzandria."...in love with your daughter since the first day we met. It wasn't...I didn't want to believe it could be. She was so young. But...the visions..."

"Visions Ferrigo and I share, father," Alexzandria stated firmly. "And still share to this moment. They...for me...I have come to accept that I have been in love with him since he first gazed into my eyes."

Maxzimillian Grayson stroked his chin. "Alexzandria...my precious daughter," he walked close to her side and looked into her eyes again. "Then it is the will of the Force." Ferrigo was taken aback.

"What do you know of the Force?"

"I know enough that Alexzandria's mother and I shared the same sort of visions prior to our first meeting," Grayson still looked at his daughter, with love in his eyes. "We met, and that...changed the course of my life, our lives.  Alexzandria, the emerald-eyed jewel of our love.  Baron Prosstang, I have no other explanation for what my wife and I experienced. It is now clear to me that this gift...is shared by our daughter.  And you." "I don't know what to say, Mr. Grayson. I have so much to talk about with your daughter."

"You must join us some time for dinner, Baron Prosstang. My wife will want to meet you, and I would be more than chastised for not inviting you," Mr. Grayson was firm, but differently warmer toward Ferrigo. Prosstang had difficulty maintaining his compsure amid his confused bewilderment.

"Certainly. I would not refuse. Let's have dinner at the Prosstang Palace, as soon as your wife is available. Though it may seem less...refined that what you and your family are used to, we do have an excellent culinary staff and broad selection of foods," Ferrigo offered a welcoming, opening gesture.

"My wife is likely already at Prosstang Castle, according to her most recent transmission. Let's dine tonight," Maxzimillian Grayson seemed satisfied, looking to Alexzandria. The three parted from the starport office, and Ferrigo soon departed in his sloop for Prosstang Castle to instruct meal preparations.

Dinner with the Graysons at Prosstang Palace
Ferrigo had his staff prepare the finest customary meal available to Mandalorians, beginning from the moment he returned to the Prosstang Town. That evening, wearing his proper clan formal attire, he greeted Alexzandria and her parents at the Prosstang Palace, below the steps to the main entrance. The trees were lustrous with color, branches slightly waving in the breeze, the green and silver grasses low, but rippling. The gate guards relaxed on seeing Ferrigo approach.

I feel you...your heartbeat.

''-I know, my Mand'alor. I feel you...I don't know what to do.''

''You take my breath away. ''

-This isn't easy for me either.

''I have seen a place. A place we need to go. We were supposed to meet today...''

"Baron Prosstang, may I introduce my wife, Alenna Grayson," Maxzimillian seemed to know that Ferrigo was distracted. The expression on Alexzandria's mother's face showed a similar awareness that made Ferrigo uncomfortable.

Ferrigo bowed slightly. "Madam Grayson. My pleasure, in welcoming you, Mr. Grayson, and your lovely daughter Alexzandria to my home...the home of my ancestors since the time of the first female Clan Prosstang chieftain, Jelkiga Prosstang."

Alenna Grayson smiled at Ferrigo's words. "You have powerful women in your family history?" The group entered the Palace, and Ferrigo led them to the family den, where a fire roared in the fireplace.

"Why would you be surprised, my love?  Mandalorians are known to be a very tolerant and adaptable culture," Maxzimillian Grayson commented more than questioned his wife.

Observing a sharp, but fleeting glance from Alenna Grayson to her husband, Ferrigo quickly added. "Yes, invariably they have steered our clan to survival in times of social and economic conflict. With few exceptions. My own mother was a chief advisor to a senior minister in Duchess Satine's cabinet."

"On behalf of my husband and daughter, I am dearly sorry that we could not meet your parents, Baron Prosstang," Alenna Grayson was sincere, though Ferrigo was left with the trace of a thought that there was some purpose lost for Madam Grayson. "I would like to learn more about you, and your family. My husband tells me you and Alexzandria have developed quite an attraction for each other."

Ferrigo was caught off-guard, but motioned with a nod to one of his kin to bring a tray of sparkling cider glasses for the guests. "I've never been much for wearing my heart on my sleeve," looking to Alexzandria, Ferrigo hesitated before continuing. "I don't wish to discuss this any further."

Alexzandria gazed deeply into Ferrigo's eyes. "I agree. I'm not comfortable talking about this."

Drinks and appetizers were provided to Ferrigo and the Graysons, and their talking matter softened to include Velndon, the home planet of the Graysons, and some of their more interesting relatives. Ferrigo shared some of the highlights about his clan's history. He steered clear of the tragedies of his own life, but he sensed in a glimpse of sorrow held in Alexzandria's eyes that some hinting of his emotion was conveyed to her.

- I will be there for you...someday.

I know.

Dinner was served at the large veshok table, seeming rather informal to the tastes of Alenna Grayson. The food however, was resoundingly acclaimed by the Graysons as some of the freshest, succulent and tasteful food they had had in several years. After dinner was finished, dessert was served, which included fruit slices and chunks with dipping sauces. Some were savory, most others based on some confection. The servers handed Ferrigo and Maxzimillian Grayson small glasses of sweet, warmed tihaar, and cups of cassius root tea were provided for Alexzandria and her mother. Alenna Grayson looked to Maxzimillian with a certain, commanding look that Ferrigo was not meant to have seen out of the corner of his eye. Maxzimillian soon finished his appraisal of the tapestries hung in the den, and Great Hall.

"Ferrigo," Maxzimilliam called out near the fire place. "May I have a word with you...alone?" Ferrigo cast a quick glance at Alexzandria and walked over to her father with the two small glasses of a tihaar. Maxzimilian put his hand around Ferrigo's shoulder. Alexzandria watched her father and Ferrigo intently while her mother spoke to her some matter regarding the release of a new product.

Quietly, in a deeply paternal voice, Maxzimillian Grayson spoke to Ferrigo. "Look, I'm not sure you are the one for Alexzandria. In fact, I am most certain you are not. For one, you are almost as old as I am, if not older. Two, I have no idea of anything about your background," Ferrigo meant to interrupt by gesture of his right hand after sipping from the tihaar glass, but failed as Grayson continued. "Third, there are several suitable young men available for Alexzandria to choose from as she selects a mate and blooms into womanhood. Men with talents, that I have personally approved of. Only because she believes you share some sort of connection, which I am highly suspect of, do I extend the following offer to you."

"And what is that?" Ferrigo gently chided, barely covering his disdain for what he had just heard.

"One month from now, Alexzandria will be tested. Tested for her aptitude to lead our family into the next generation," lowering his voice further, Mr. Grayson continued. "If she is so much as touched by a man before this test, she will fail. And grave consequences will befall the agent of her spoiling," a tight, bitter smile crossed Maxzimillian Grayson's face. "Do I make myself understood?"

"I hope you have shared these kind words with the team of glamor boys you hired, Mr. Grayson," finishing his tihaar, Ferrigo set the glass on a small mantle near the hearth. "I'm not interested in games...but I'm an honorable man. What is it you're offering?"

"You will be welcome to attend this test. It is a special occasion for our family.  A rite of passage for Alexzandria. Be sure to leave yourself ample time to arrive - Velndon is a long ways from Republic space," Maxzimillian Grayson handed Ferrigo a data card. "And do NOT touch her."

"I promise to follow Alexzandria's heart, and her guidance. Does she know about this?"

"No. Not yet," Mr. Grayson looked to his wife and daughter, sitting at the table talking. "And you are not to say a word about this."

"Understood."

Maxzimillian Grayson and Ferrigo returned to the table to sit and have another round of drinks with the beautiful Grayson women and discuss galactic politics while enjoying more of the dessert tray. Ferrigo was not sure of where the Graysons stood on Mandalorian independence, and he was careful not to push the issue too firmly.

- He's pressuring you. Alexzandria smiled at Ferrigo from across the table as he talked with her parents. - I don't know why...

''I will be there for you. Know that. ''

- I am kissing you in my mind, Ferrigo, my Mand'alor...

I am feeling, and loving that...

Maxzimillian Grayson cleared his throat, and cast a slightly perturbed glance at his daughter. Alexzandria turned to her father and spoke clearly. "I am going to return to the farming village in the morning. I will have the team take care of the deliveries at the Spaceport," looking to Ferrigo. "Once they have been cleared through customs."

"You are all welcome guests here at Prosstang Palace for the night, or for as long as you wish to stay," Ferrigo offered.

"Thank you for your hospitality. After such a pleasant evening, I do feel tired and this is a wonderfully charming place, Baron Prosstang," Alenna Grayson responded warmly.

"Good," the Baron rose from his seat and turned toward the door at the south side of the den. "Your guest quarters are right through that door. My clan will happily respond to your every need and wish, just press the comm button on the panels near the doors. I must turn in, it has been a great pleasure to meet you and host you in this manner." Ferrigo gazed at Alexzandria. ''My heart's desire. ''

''- I know, my Baron. You are mine.''

Ori'buir (Grandmother) and the Sacred Tree
The next day, Alexzandria held her arms firmly around Ferrigo's waist as their guarlara trotted into a forested area five or more kilometers north of Rhell'cyok. "I have so longed to bring you here, Alexzandria," Ferrigo said, the day after Alenna and Maxzimillian Grayson departed for their home. "This tree...," he continued, pointing at the base of an enormous veshok tree that rose to their left with gnarled and curling branches to an unseen height above the thick, damp canopy of green needles. "...has been sacred to my family for many generations. I have only visited this tree once, long ago in my childhood...with my mother."

"You said your mother was a senior advisor to a cabinet minister in the New Mandalorian government...," Alexzandria pried gently.

"Yes, she was. She was loyal to Mandalore. She was loyal to my father. She was...also loyal to the Order of Shamans in her mother's bloodlines," Ferrigo steadied the guarlara, and turned his head toward his left shoulder to glance at Alexzandria, who very slightly tightened her hold around him. "You have nothing to fear, Alexzandria."

"It's not fear.  I just like holding you, and don't want to let go," Ferrigo smiled and helped her dismount from the large steed before dismounting himself. "Baron...Ferrigo...there is an old woman standing next to that large hump in that thick tree root," Alexzandria said with a slight waver in her voice. "I sense...darkness..."

"I'm guessing that's my Grandmother. I can't see...what you see...but I am sensing or...hearing her...thoughts. She wants to know why we are here," Ferrigo closed his eyes, his back turned to the woman-apparition Alexzandria saw clearly. Alexzandria moved forward and touched Ferrigo's arm.

-- The Messenger Who Knows Not the Message.  Ferrigo startled at hearing this rasping elderly voice...of a woman in his mind. -- But she knows...she WILL know....my Ferrigo...my precious grandson...You too shall see...bring your Baroness...

Ferrigo opened his eyes. "Uh, Alexzandria...you look pale," a moment after Ferrigo saw Alexzandria looking as if in shock, slumping down breathlessly to the soft, leaf-littered clumps of grass, a wave of black crossed his vision and he too slumped to the ground peacefully.

Ferrigo woke to find that he and Alexzandria were sitting, slumped in earthen bench seats in a roughly circular chamber that seemed poorly lit and had its walls and ceiling framed by the root system of a large tree. "Alexzandria?" Ferrigo asked.

"Yes," in a sleeply voice, the young, beautiful blonde sat up and turned to face him. "We are in the tree. Your grandmother is talking to me. Showing me things. Visions..."

"I saw things too.  In my mind.  My grandmother was there.  She showed me...clearly that you would be in my life...until the end."

"We will have many children, and change many lives if we follow what I was shown," Alexzandria looked down at the earthen floor. "You will grow in your connection to the Force...through me...and my tutelage," she hesitated briefly and looked up into his eyes before continuing. "...and our loving."

"Alexzandria, I saw nine children. Twins...several pairs.  And ....much love shared between us.  Very powerful between the two of us. We are...in hiding most of the time...building a complex of tunnels near here to protect each other and some of our friends and my clan," Ferrigo seemed perplexed. "For some reason, all of my family's heirlooms need to be brought here in secret."

"Yes, I can see that. Your grandmother is talking to me, confirming what you say."

"How do you...see...so clearly?" Ferrigo asked.

"The Force is strong in my family.  I was...trained from early childhood as a Jedi," Alexzandria noticed the slight surprise on Ferrigo's face. "I am not here on Jedi business, Ferrigo...my father sent me here with a team on behalf of Grayson Galactic. I left the Jedi Order before officially taking a Master."

Ferrigo seemed lost for a moment in contemplation before raising his eyes to again meet Alexzandria's, which glistened within the dimly lit chamber. "Your father...and the team...also Jedi?"

"Search your feelings, my Mand'alor," Alexzandria turned slightly away as she continued to speak. "You know we are to be in hiding. You and me.  Children.  Others.  You are to protect me," she turned back to face him. "Does it really matter about labels? I know that...,"  Alexzandria gazed at Ferrigo and paused. He shifted and stood up from his bench of earth and root and walked to Alexzandria before kneeling before her, his face less than a foot from hers. "...that I love you, Baron Ferrigo of Prosstang."

"I love you, Alexzandria Grayson, ner kar'ta, my heart..." Ferrigo took Alexzandria in his arms and kissed her deeply. She reciprocated and moved her arms around his shoulders and neck as they shared a kiss for as long as a lap of the Boonta Eve Classic Pod Speeder Race. She gazed into his eyes as their lips parted, and he felt a tremor to the core of his very being. Their eyes began to mist with tears, and they quickly reconnected with another deep, passionate kiss, holding each other tightly for many minutes before laying down next to each other on the bench.

Ferrigo closed his eyes, and moments later it seemed, he and Alexzandria awoke sitting against the trunk of the large veshok tree, each being licked by the guarlara steed. "Su cuy gar ner mesh'la ulik," Ferrigo smiled, and Alexzandria giggled, wiping her face with the back of her hand and forearm. The guarlara nudged them with its nose, and they rose to their feet, bracing their hands on the trunk and each other. "I'd better take you home."

"That's here with you," Alexzandria said.

"You think and say the most beautiful things, Ms. Grayson," Ferrigo said with a slight catch in his voice.

"Are you okay, Baron Prosstang?" Alexzandria had a look of sincerity mixed with humor at the end of her question.

"Nothing that more of your delicious soul-stirring kisses wouldn't quench," Ferrigo responded more firmly. "But I think we both need to get back. I didn't expect to be here at nightfall, and your team will surely be upsetting my clansfolk with their concern about you."

"You're right," Alexzandria said with a slight tone of disappointment. "You don't like Syral or Zak, do you?"

"They...are not purely in this operation for business, Alexzandria. Your father hired them, but they are not the best agricultural scientists or practitioners a firm like your father's could hire.  We have both seen a future together. I am not sure that anyone else of your father's concern has a vested interest in that future, or your happiness for that matter."

"Are you saying my father is up to something?" Alexzandria said slightly tartly as Ferrigo helped her up onto the guarlara's saddle. "He loves me, and would not hurt me, Baron Prosstang."

Ferrigo climbed carefully onto the steed, settling in front of Alexzandria, her arms and hands clasping firmly around his waist as they began to ride back toward Rhell'cyok. Over his shoulder, he shouted to his young, beautiful companion. "To be honest, Alexzandria, I cannot say what your father is up to. I just don't think he sees a future for you and me."

"I'm not letting you go, Ferrigo Prosstang."

"I know. I hold the reins," Prosstang chuckled as they crossed the verge of the forest and rode into the open prairie.

Alexzandria Grayson shook her head in mock disbelief, and shared a smile with Ferrigo that warmed his heart. They rode into the village quietly, and Ferrigo gave Alexzandria one last hungry kiss before helping her down from the guarlara. "I love you, Ferrigo, my Mand'alor," she said as she backed away slowly from the steed.

"Ner evaar'la...mesh'la cyar'ika...gar taylir ner kar'ta...I love you, my precious young Ms. Grayson. Be careful." With those words, Ferrigo Prosstang rode quickly out of the village, to the north. He sensed her strongly with him.

-I will watch over you, my love...

''I am strong. But I welcome you into my heart...Do you feel me...in yours?''

- I feel you with me now...your eyes...I am smiling...your hands...You'd better keep your eyes on the trail, Baron Prosstang.

Sweet dreams, Ms. Grayson...

Catching Up On Growing Pains
Sitting at the long table downstairs at The Itchy Strill, Ferrigo finished a lunch meal and shared occasional comments with some distant relatives. He sipped from a glass of strong Mandallian Narcolethe, his second, received just moments before a small-statured young woman with dark blonde hair entered the ancient, cozy tapcaf, turning heads as she entered. She wore a deep red-painted beskar'gam that was cut for a woman, and she seemed to fill it to the brims. The left chest cup had a black shield painted on it, scratched up with a dark red lightning bolt through it.

''Where have I seen that armor before? This young woman...looks vaguely familiar. No answer? Fine.''

"Bartender," she spoke confidently and sharply. "I want two glasses of the hardest stuff you have in the house."

"Well, cyar'ika," a terribly wizened lad, who Ferrigo recognized as Vherri'ik Us'ja put his hands on the young woman's shoulders and added. "That would be me." Ferrigo could hear a tell-tale 'shick-chakk' of the loading of a gauntlet-mounted saber dart, and saw its point of origin.

The young lady turned slightly left, moving her right hand up to hold the man's face under his chin. His smile widened until she spoke through clenched teeth. "Take your hands off me, or you'll find your tongue pierced to the roof of your mouth!" His jaw would have dropped if the young woman hadn't been holding it.

"Vherr'ik. Get your hands off her," still seated, Ferrigo ordered the drunkard. The Itchy Strill was silent, except for the sound of music and some laughter upstairs. "And get your shebse out of here before I let this young lady gut you."

"Let me?" the young woman seemed indignant at the suggestion that someone had authority over her in any way. "Who in fier'fekking Keldabe are you, you di'kut?!" The crowd gathered groaned in anticipation for the reaction to her words, which seemed to give her pause and lower her guard.

Ferrigo stood up. "You won't do well in Prosstang Town, or this region, talking to the Aliit'alor Ferrigo Prosstang like that. Come over here and sit down, missy. Now....Fish, this young woman's drinks - on the house."

The young woman eyed Ferrigo warily, and sat down across from him at the table after a man cleared a space and shuffled further from the exit vestibule. "Look, I just wanted to find my dad," she set her colorful helmet on the table. The Strill resumed its bustle of interactions and activity, and "Fish," the Mon Cala bartender quickly set two glasses of Mandallian Narcolethe in front of her.

"You could go about it a little differently, young lady," Ferrigo counseled in a firm but quiet tone. "Sorry about Vherr'ik. He's not known for holding his liquor well."

The young woman commented that she'd traveled a long way from the Sundari region to settle in a farming village far to the south, in Kaitom'prosstang. Forgetting the pain of losing her mother more than 3 years before. Without ever having known her father, who she was told by her mother had died long before she was born almost 24 years ago.

"The Battle at Galidraan," she said, tossing a beskar'gam shoulder plate onto the table, and downing her first glass as fast as she lifted it from the table. Ferrigo's mind was pulled into the eye of a needle. His memory clear, though two glasses of narcolethe were not helping. "Tyro Kels'mek. You know him? Of course not. He's dead. Died in that battle,"

Ferrigo tried to gather his thoughts, and the young woman continued. "My mom always told me, and we had some very rough times, she and I...destitution...survival...shame...But she always said. 'Someday, seek your father's best friend...Ferrigo Prosstang. He will help you understand who you are.' Well, here I am, wearing her beskar'gam," a pained giggle behind pursed lips from the young woman...who looked...so familiar. So much like...Relia Kels'mek. But...not his friend...his best friend...Tyr-

"And THIS..." her voice wavering as she pulled a tattered piece of purple cape material from behind her left beskar breast cup. It was trimmed in gold. Ferrigo's mouth dropped open slightly, his brow furrowed. "I just found this tucked into my mom's armor on the way...HERE. All these years, I never knew my mom had this keepsake," the young woman stood from the table, seething with anger, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "When I think back, she talked about YOU! ...More than she did HIM! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!"

Ferrigo was reeling with the cascade of thoughts ...Relia...him...she had clearly pined for him. He looked up into the young woman's tear-laden eyes, with the realization that he was looking at his own flesh and blood!

But the young woman had moved her fist into position, firing a saber dart into Ferrigo's neck before he could say more than, "I...." He fell back over the bench with the pain and heat of the dart deeply embedded in his neck, causing his body to convulse and his mouth to foam.

The patrons of The Strill, shouting and cursing, began to move toward him as the young woman cried, screamed and kicked the incapacitated Clan Prosstang Chieftain swiftly and repeatedly about the head, shoulders and back.

All he could offer in response were grunts and shouts of pain as his body continued to convulse.

Several men grabbed the hostile young woman and found themselves in a heated battle, with the clashing clatter of Mandalorian weapon gauntlets and punches to their faces and kicks to their lower regions. These men, all comers, found themselves thrown to various crossing destinations, including other patrons, as the ball of Mandalorian female fury made her way quickly for the door with her gauntlets extended in threatening position to clear a path out of The Itchy Strill.

The Healing of a Heart
Ferrigo had been attended to by a number of the patrons, and taken ten minutes after The Itchy Strill incident by shuttle flight to the Keldabe Medical Center. The hospital was rather busy, and guards from the Prosstang Regional Security Force were stationed outside of his door.

''-My Mand'alor, my Baron, my Love. It's Alexzandria. Listen to my voice, Ferrigo. You are going to be fine. Come to me, take my hand. Let's walk together in the field. I will never let you go. If you wish, I will heal you.''

''Yes, my precious Alexzandria. Heal me. Take me. ''Ferrigo pleaded gently.

''-You are so important to me, I love you so much. I have seen a wonderful future for us.''

''I have too. You make me feel like I've never felt before. I love you so deeply, I can't get you out of my mind.''

''-I am smiling, Ferrigo. And, I am building a vessel to ease and remove your pain, and begin the healing process. Healing your tissues, in the Force. Be calm, at peace, and know that I am with you. You are going to be fine. We have a future ahead, you and I.''

''Yes, ner kar'ta. I feel your warmth. Your strength. I feel your hand. Holding mine. I...feel your...hands...on my face...''

''-Yes, my Love. I am bringing the love in my heart and soul to you, for your healing.''

How do you know this?

''-The Force is guiding me. Like the visions of you. I am kissing your lips, my Mand'alor. Did you feel that?''

''Yes. I think I feel a little pain from smiling. I am chuckling.''

''-Yes, you are. I am so happy to see a smile on your face, Ferrigo. The pain will leave you. I am sending my healing love throughout your body. I feel a wind, warm...and tinted.''

Purple? Ferrigo asked as if uncertain.

''-Yes. You can see it?'' Alexzandria asked, slightly more animated.

''Yes, I can. Are you surprised? ''Ferrigo responded.

''-Uhhh...yes, I am. But I am very happy that you can. Do you feel the loving warmth of me, my handsome Baron?''

''Yes. I feel wonderful. Like your hands are moving around me, and the pain, and tightness are melting away.''

''-You are smiling. I have to kiss your lips again...and your face. Your swelling has gone down, my Love. ''

Ferrigo had a momentary thought of being darted by Relia's daughter, and stirred slightly under Alexzandria Grayson's kiss, and chest, her hands holding his face and neck. He felt her love throughout his being. Her lips parted from his with a smack.

"You are safe, my Mand'alor," Alexzandria said softly, inches from his face.

His eyes registered a smile. "I love you, ner cyar'ika," Ferrigo responded, somewhat groggily. As Ms. Grayson gently straightened up away from embracing him, he felt the slightly sore left side of his neck. "Bacta patch," he murmured to nobody in particular. "Thank Hod Har'an, Iaco Stark didn't win that war..."

"You're awake...how are you feeling?" Alexzandria whispered. Her voice was very comforting.

"Are you a Diathim?" Ferrigo asked sincerely.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Baron Prosstang," Alexzandria responded with a soft, but quizzical tone.

"An angel. A space angel. I feel like I've crossed over into the Afterlife to wake in the presence of your beauty and...your spirit. Your glow," Ferrigo's words carried only a hint of flattery. "I felt you in my dream, talked to you."

"My glow?" Alexzandria asked incredulously, with a smile.

"Yeah. I can't describe it, other than you look amazingly gorgeous. Your emerald eyes see right into me, and hold me," Prosstang smiled at Ms. Grayson. "I feel warm and comfortable, like, no pain or aching, aside from my neck. Just a little bit. How long have I been here?"

Alexzandria moved closer to the left side of his bed and placed her right hand on his left shoulder. "At least three hours. I came here as soon as I heard about what happened," she gazed into his eyes, regarding him with a loving smile.

"I could have been a better man in honoring my friend," Ferrigo lamented. "I will never be able to forgive myself."

"You must forgive yourself, Ferrigo. Our paths might not have come together if you made a different choice," Alexzandria said softly. "Your past is not your present, nor your future. I hope you believe in me, in us, and what we have seen in the Force."

"You're right," Ferrigo half-smiled. "I do. And I am very happy to have you in my life, Alexzandria."

"I feel the same way," Alexzandria smiled, but shifted slightly in her stance, and in her tone. "The young woman. She attacked you."

"Yes. She thought she was my best friend's daughter. A friend who died before she was born. Her mother kept the truth from her. And me. I am my attacker's father."

Alexzandria held her hand over Ferrigo's chest, and gently set it down. "Ke'ana Widden. She has lived in Rhell'cyok, even before I arrived."

Ferrigo stuttered slightly. "You know who...How...do you..."

Alexzandria paused. "I was healing you. And, I know now I should have asked your permission...but I asked the Force to show me who did this to you."

"Why?" Prosstang asked.

"If you are to be my husband, father of our children, as you and I have both seen, then I need to be sure that nothing puts that future in jeopardy." Alexzandria said with conviction. "I want to share that future with you, Baron Prosstang."

Ferrigo smiled, brimming with joy as he held the hand of the young, gorgeous green-eyed blonde haired woman at his bedside. "I will talk with..Ke'ana then. Straighten this out."

Ms. Grayson's smile softened at the corners a little. "Ke'ana is in the hospital here too. And so is your...other daughter, Hand'alora."

"What happened?" Baron Prosstang was incredulous.

"Apparently, Hand'alora and Ke'ana got into a fight. I wasn't clear on why. Until now. What I have heard from one of the security detail from your...'Posse'...is that Hand'alora squared off with Ke'ana," Alexzandria took a deep breath. "And they engaged in very brutal hand-to-hand combat. Both of them look horrible."

"Fierfek." Ferrigo grunted. "My children. Fighting over me."

"Maybe. Maybe not, my Love." Ms. Grayson said cautiously. "I feel something else is at work here. But one thing is for sure. They will need much more healing than you do. I will be getting some rest, with the intention of checking in on you," she smiled and tilted her head with emerald eyes fixed in a gaze at Ferrigo. "And I will see if there is any healing that I can do for them."

"You might want to hold off on that, ner cyar'ika."

"Hmmm?" Ms. Grayson queried.

Ferrigo cleared his throat. "We don't want to expose you or your team. Particularly any Force abilities you have."

"Thank you, Baron Prosstang. You keep my head on straight," the young woman smiled.

"You are welcome," Ferrigo shifted slightly. "I don't feel any pain. I think I may be ready to get up and around in a few hours. I'd like to talk with each of my daughters separately, and then help them arrive at some sort of truce. After that, I have an idea about the healing."

"I'm all ears, my Baron." Alexzandria said with a touch of tartness.

...

Sisters & Daughters
Hand'alora laid in a hospital bed with a breathing assistance tube fixed to her mouth and nose. Her vital signs showing great vigor, but the bruising and swelling of her face and neck was stunning to view, even in the dim light of the hospital room.

"Hand'alora," Ferrigo said softly, alone in the room with his now second-oldest daughter. "It's your father. Ferrigo."

No response. He thought he heard a whisper in the room, and looked around.

"I am proud of you, Hand'alora. Though I wish it had never happened, you did your best to defend and honor me."

The chair on the other side of the table from where Ferrigo sat began to squeak and screech as it dragged on the floor toward Hand'alora's hospital bed. Ferrigo's mouth dropped open. The chair turned around to face him once it was within a step or two of the bedside.

He gasped and looked around. "What in Hod Haran's name is going on here?"

-''Father. I am with you.''

"Yes, Hand'alora!" Ferrigo said excitedly. "I hear you."

-I will need time to heal.

Ferrigo leaned forward. "Ad'ika, when I have things together in the next day or two, I am going to call on your great grandmother's spirit to help me with your healing. I sense a lot of damage."

-''A sister. Do we have any more?''

"Honestly, Hand'ika, I don't know," Ferrigo continued. "I didn't expect her to show up. Her mother never told me about her," he paused. "We?"

Ferrigo gazed for a few more minutes at Hand'alora in silence before getting out of his chair and walking to her bedside. Next to the chair. He gently held her swollen left arm and closed his eyes. "I love you, ad'ika. You're going to be okay."



Prosstang gently closed the door behind him as he left. He walked down the hallway, rode a repulsorlift elevator up to the floor where his other daughter, now his oldest and name unknown, had been moved to. He strode confidently to the door, and the beskar'gam-wearing security guard stepped aside after opening the door for him. He entered the room, and shut the door behind him quietly.

Ferrigo noticed that Ms. Kels'mek was awake, but just barely. Ferrigo nodded to her as she met his stare. He walked further into the room, finding a seat near the lamp-lit table. Ferrigo asked. "So how did you survive your younger sister's wrath?"

Ferrigo's daughter rasped softly in pain, "Quick reflexes. What time is it? How long have I been out?" she tried sitting up again, but was still not able.

She noticed Ferrigo's keen stare and careful reply. "You have been unconscious for an entire day. It's now just past midnight. I wanted to come see if you were okay. Now, tell me your name."

"Khatta is my first name. You already know my last name and my clan." she looked away from him, toward the ceiling.

Prosstang shifted in his chair. "Well, Khatta," his gaze fixed on her. "You certainly have reason to be upset at me, and given who your mother is, perhaps I can understand the darting you gave me," a smile formed at the corners of his mouth. "Your sister, however, was only protecting her father."

"Protecting? What is her deal? I know I have some anger management issues...but, she's a total freak of nature," Khattta began to get very animated but pained. Ferrigo motioned his hand toward her to calm down. "Are you Sith or something? Because that isn't normal." she continued, her voice slightly rattling as she shifted uncomfortably in the angled hospital bed.

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "No, I'm not," and he then looked earnestly into Khatta's glistening eyes. "But, Hand'alora has only recently returned to me after being abducted with the rest of my family more than ten years ago. I...lost my wife, Hand'alora, her two brothers and sister." Ferrigo watched Khatta look down at the bed covers as he continued to tell her about the involvement of his once trusted aide, Gela Tre'vhek, and Count Dooku, in the abduction of his family. "Hand'alora was trained as a Sith from the age of seven. She was only rescued from Dooku and an academy of Sith teachings by my cousin, Jannigo Prosstang, and several bounty hunters. And Gela..."

After the re-telling, Ferrigo held his face in his hands as Khatta spoke. "I am sorry for your loss, Ferrigo. It must be touching that Hand'alora is so ready to defend you after such a long absence," she paused and wondered aloud. "Dooku is still the leader of the Separatists. Why you? And what about that di'kut Gela?"

Ferrigo paused, his face still in his hands. "I can't explain why Dooku has taken an interest in me and my family." He paused and raised his face to look at Khatta. "With Gela...Hand'alora took her life out of retribution."

Khatta regarded the right side of Ferrigo's face as he leaned back in the chair, the dim lamp light faintly illuminating his purple frock coat. She spoke softly. "You must have loved Gela. But, I would have done the same thing Hand'alora did. Not sure I would have even waited to come back here to do it. Gela, if she loved you, would never have done something so horrible to you."

Ferrigo nodded. "I am truly blessed to have Alexzandria Grayson in my life."

"She helps you forget the pain of your...losses?" Khatta probed cautiously.

"No. She is much more than that. I have felt a connection to her since she arrived several years ago," Ferrigo blushed.

"She was a child when she arrived. I was there. She is still a kid, you know," Khatta countered.

Ferrigo slightly shook his head and said without apologizing. "Alexzandria and I have a deeply shared bond, and I stayed away to give her time to grow into her womanhood. Now things are changing. Coming together."

"And those guys in her agricultural relief team in Rhell'cyok? You know that some of them don't know seed from stalk," his oldest daughter said with slightly labored breathing. "I was in Rhell'cyok around half a year before Alexzandria and her team arrived. There is something going on with that Grayson team that has nothing to do with agricultural aid. I think you should know that Zak Reddel and Rhett Unteril always follow Alexzandria around...they are totally worthless, like lovesick puppies. Everyone in Rhell'cyok knows it."

Ferrigo cleared his throat. "I know. I'm not worried."

"You should be. Not about Alexzandria. But her team," Khatta said a bit more quietly. "I know they're not out for me, but they are hiding something."

"Count your blessings, Khatta," Ferrigo said firmly, but with warmth. "I'm sure that the villagers of Rhell'cyok will be stunned to learn you are their Aliit'alor's daughter. You know you are welcome to stay at Prosstang Palace, or at the Castle. If you do not feel welcomed back in Kaitom'prosstang."

Abruptly, she shifted the conversation with a more stern look on her pained face. "Why did you leave my mother?"

Ferrigo inhaled and blew out the air slowly. "Relia," he seemed to be collecting his thoughts. "I thought her heart belonged to my best friend who'd only died a few months before. I was his best man. She was a friend of mine. To many of Jaster Mereel's warriors...Relia Vu'udrel was not a woman to forget."

"Why did you?"

"I didn't. She married my best friend, and one of my mentors, Tyro Kels'mek. He was bigger, stronger, more silent and supportive. Relia, she was a bit wild. For a long time. And a great commando. Special operations and espionage. I was maybe 15 or 16 when we first met. She ended up doing a lot of the up-front intel work to prepare for our combat teams to do their jobs. She was very talented at getting information and silencing anyone who might have gotten in the way," Ferrigo chuckled a little and continued, looking at his daughter. "She was legendary among my comrades for her ability to accurately - no, precisely...put down targets with gauntlet darts from inside 20 meters."

Khatta couldn't help but smile, though she seemed to stiffen from feeling a few sharp pains.

Ferrigo smiled and shook his head. "At their wedding in full combat gear, as she Keldabe-kissed Tyro on finishing their vows, she fired a dart into my neck," Ferrigo laughed out loud for a moment, his words inflected with a smile. "Some of Mereel's...Jango's men...insisted that it was on purpose. I'd gifted her that left gauntlet only a few nights before, and got Tyro some batteries for his infrared scopes. In any case, when we get together, ner vode and I, it almost always comes to a laugh about the Kels'mek wedding and the poor sot of a best man."

Ferrigo took a deep breath before continuing. "She saved our shebse so many times with her thorough investigations and misinformation campaigns. We really suffered for her not being in on the intel gathering at Galidraan."

Khatta sat up, wincing with some pain before she asked another question. "Why wasn't she there? Wasn't that where Tyro Kels'mek was killed?"

Ferrigo responded thoughtfully. "Tyro told her to stay home. And for the first time I can remember, she did as he asked," he shifted in his chair a little and softened his voice. "I never forgot your mother, Khatta. Nobody could. But, she and I couldn't put aside the guilt we felt for...Tyro's memory. Relia was a woman I'd admired...and even desired from afar. And when it happened, it was nothing less than beautiful, Khatta. But we both agreed to let it go. For Tyro. I never heard from her again."

"You never came back for her."

"True, I didn't come back," Ferrigo said. "But she was a special woman, and I assumed she moved on to greener forests."

"She didn't. She talked about you. Only you, and some about Tyro Kels'mek," Khatta shed a few tears. "She once told me she sent someone looking for you, to help me understand who Tyro Kels'mek was, but never found you."

"I'm surprised to hear she was looking for me," Ferrigo said wistfully. "She was everyone's tough-skinned sweetheart. Frankly, I didn't think I could hold her attention."

"Maybe not, but I think you sold yourselves short," she said with a tinge of bitterness. "In time, she did find company with other men. Many men, in fact. Most of them not worth the mud on my boots. But she filled my life with many little half-sisters and half-brothers."

Ferrigo got up from his chair and moved to his daughter's bedside, placing his open right hand on her left forearm. "I am here for you now. I can't change the past, only embrace a brighter future. You are my daughter, ner adi'ka. You are a Prosstang by blood. And in name, if you will accept me as your father."

"I have a lot to think about," Khatta said quietly, looking into the corner of the room near the door.

Ferrigo nodded. "I understand. You need more rest. Don't make me come back in here and dart you," he said in good spirits as he edged closer to the door and looked over his shoulder.

She lay there looking at him. "Oh sure, dart your daughter while she is injured. I see how you work now, buir." his daughter laughed and then growled with a sharp pain.

Ferrigo turned slightly looking back a moment before exiting the room.

...

The Trecherous Invitation & Detention
Ferrigo had set course for Roxuli two days before. Ner Kar'ta was very responsive and capable of getting him to Velndon and its moon soon enough for the ceremony that the lovely Alexzandria Grayson was to face. He felt in his heart that he was meant to be there for her, with her.

Relia's Legacy: Khatta On The Run (21 BBY)
"So you think you just walk away after firing a dart into my neck and nearly killing your younger sister," Ferrigo said sharply into the transmitter of his helmet. He had used the customized system electronics to decipher the frequency his orphaned adult daughter was using once within a half kilometer of her location. It had been almost too easy to track her. And now he had dropped a few meters behind her, having deactivated his jetpack a few feet above the ground, his right gauntlet prepared with a stun laser. "I thought you two had worked things out. That you and me...We...had worked things out."

"You shouldn't have followed me," the terse response he got from the spinning, beskar'gam clad young woman that only a few months before was laying in a hospital bed in Keldabe. Where Hand'alora had also been, recovering from the wounds she received in their battle. Her left hand extended quickly to point at Ferrigo. "There are things about me you don't know.  You could be putting yourself in danger...I did beat the osik out of you."

"I'm not worried about myself. You remember I took out an entire security force including five or more Jedi-trained Force users in less than twenty minutes," Ferrigo shifted slightly and continued. "Someone is following you...a group of angry looking men on swoop bikes. Any particular reason they're following you...aside from a 3 year old bounty?"

Khatta regarded her father, and did not speak until she turned away. "How did you find out about that osik'la bounty? There's no evidence other than circumstantial and a spineless Kels'mek sleemo for a witness."

"That bounty was posted three years ago," he countered,"...and we don't have much time to talk about it now," Ferrigo looked around the rims of the canyon. "We have to find a way out of here, Khatta." After sifting through some data in his HUD with brief vocal commands, Ferrigo turned to his daughter, as she held her right arm. "Time to fly. No more than five meters up."

Ferrigo chirped the command into his vocal unit, "Jets low," and moved forward and upward with the thrust of his jetpack rockets following the direction he faced, until he recited a set of coordinates he selected from a list of area caves explored by Prosstang Industries Mining Division crews. Course set, Ferrigo then checked his HUD camera views to see that Khatta was following him low, above some tall brush growing from the sides of the narrow canyon.

"Where are we going, Prosstang?" the young female's voice asked, slightly tinged with pain. "I need to stop soon, my shoulder and knee...this zipping around these canyons...is killing me."

Ferrigo spoke into his vocal receptor. "Slow to land," and he swung his feet down and forward, landing softly on the dirt between two large shrubs. Khatta soon landed on the same spot after her father had taken a few strides between the tall, thick shrubs. He turned slightly to see her leaning over her knees when he heard her soft gasps in his helmet. "Come, ner ad'ika, follow me. You don't have much further. But they'll be around soon enough."

Ferrigo continued toward the rock face between the shrubs, his daughter a short distance behind him. He turned again as he reached an apparent gash in the rock, behind which was a two meter wide gap entrance into a cave not visible from the front. Khatta slowed down. "You're still injured. You really should have stayed in the hospital another few weeks a few months back."

Khatta Kels'mek regarded Ferrigo Prosstang for a moment, her visor facing his. "Ummm, you needed to be rescued, remember? Or that's what Hand'alora said. Why do you care so much?"

"Because you're my daughter, Khatta." Once they were inside the cave, Ferrigo removed a hand-sized light from his pocket and activated it.

Khatta leaned against one of the cave walls and slid to the floor, taking her helmet off and shaking her hair out. She then laid her head back on the wall, growling in pain with her movement.

Ferrigo took a look outside, and removed a small panel card with a half-dome camera on its face from one of his cargo pockets. He set the card firmly on the outside wall of the cave entrance with his right hand, and walking slowly back into the cave spoke a few words into his helmet to setup the camera functions.

The bounty hunter with an exceptional reputation for tracking and capturing his targets turned his attention fully to his beautiful daughter. "So, tell me about these guys. Who are they?"

Khatta stared up at the ceiling of the cave while answering through slightly labored breathing, "They are part of my clan as far as I know. They put a hit out for me a while ago. Framing me for the murder of my mother." She turned her head to Ferrigo. "After all of this.. I honestly wish they would stop adding insult to injury."

Ferrigo gently leaned against the left side of the cave's wall, his helmet still on. She took a holo-disk and a dart out of her cargo pocket. "I can appreciate that." He looked at the dart and holo-disk. "Are those evidence?"

Khatta had closed her eyes and was sitting still her brow twisted with pain and also her deep thoughts. She didn't open her eyes when she said "Yes. I found the dart in my mothers back, and the holo disk is what she left behind for me in our apartment."

Khatta slipped both of them back into her pocket then grew still again. "Relia...was killed with a dart in her back?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes. This dart, looks very similar to the ones I use. Someone who didn't care to look too closely wouldn't be able to tell this one from mine." Ferrigo shifted his weight and stood from the cave wall. Turning slightly toward the cave entrance.

"What's on the disk?" He had turned his visor toward his daughter.

Khatta lifted her head from the cave wall and growled softly "Ya know, you talk too much."

Ferrigo lifted his eyebrow, unseen from inside his helmet as he heard his daughter's words. He then whispered. "Put your bucket on, Khatta," lifting his right hand up to indicate 'quiet down.'

Khatta grabbed her helmet slowly and with some difficulty put it on and turned to look at Ferrigo. ...

Labor Union Meetings & Uncertainty of Control
Meetings with the Arcona Mineral Harvest Corporation labor union leadership were mildly positive. Many doubts remained on the future of Prosstang Mining Company in the face of a legal battle in Coruscant waged with TaggeCo Mining for ownership. Tetch Kuporr had come along for the trip to ensure that the Labor DIvision of Prosstang Industries had a firm grasp on any movement on the questions looming ahead. An Arcona representing TaggeCo by the name Rwann Noll arrived soon after Prosstang and Kuporr. ...

A Stowaway with a Secret
...

A Treachery Revealed, A Treasure Hidden
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Xossk Prepares Ferrigo Prosstang's Final Act - The Delight of His Nemesis
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The Most Painful Tortures Known
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Something Forgotten, Something Familiar
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Last Rites for a Baron-Chieftain, the Shell of Mandalore the Uniter II
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For Her Mand'alor - The Crucible of Love, Death, Freedom and The Force
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Last Gasps of The Faithful, and The Faithless Recounted to the New Mand'alor
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Plans Carried Out In Secret - A World Inside, A World Apart
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The Fruits of Eternal Love Grow - Young Mothers Together
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The Blessings of Love in The Force - Kostaligo and Aleksaana are Born (19 BBY)
...

  Gallery of Images