Ferrigo Prosstang

"I will follow you to the ends of the galaxy..."

"Last time I remember you saying that...you told me you were a feared bounty hunter."

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

"Mmm-Hmmm...Am I your bounty, Ferrigo, Baron of Prosstang?"

''"Undoubtedly. Most treasured, ner cyar'ika." ''

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

<p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">"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.

<p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">"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.

<p style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt">"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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-size:14.0pt">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 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-size:14.0pt"> 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-size:14.0pt"> Left Behind on Korda 6 (52 BBY)

In 52 BBY, the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel responded to a 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 artillery fire to the exceptionally heavy and accurate ground fire in each of the landing zones.

Upon landing, Prosstang survived a rake of turbo lasers and concussive blasts from an enemy gun emplacement, only by a revelatory leap to the safety of thick cluster of trees. The gun emplacement was unaccounted for in the mission plans in the sector Montross assigned him. 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. 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. But something was clear after several hours. Lu'uk and Ferrigo had been left behind. Betrayed by Montross.

<p style="margin:0in;margin-left:.375in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt"> "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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-size:14.0pt"> Rescued by a Jedi - Revelations and Wisdom (52 BBY)

Uncharacteristically, Ferrigo lost consciousness on Korda 6 after returning to Lu'uk from his fruitless search for comrades and enemies. 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," 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 friend 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 is my cousin? 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 cousin, where is he?" Ferrigo asked again, a bit more insistent. "I...feel that he is here."

"And he is, young Prosstang. If you are familiar with Corellian ships, perhaps you could tell me where he is," 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 cousin."

"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. "He's 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 cousin 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 cousin cannot be a party to hearing."

"Oh, like what?" Ferrigo enquired earnestly. "Lu'uk can hear anything you tell me. He's blood relation."

"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 cousin 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. Jinn finally revealed that they were traveling to Mandalore to return the two young men. The crew and passengers, including Qui-Gon Jinn, Ferrigo and Lu'uk, 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 would be returned to his 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 cousin 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 to others."

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 as a concentration of particles associated with Force sensitivity called midichlorians. The more midichlorians 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 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." 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> Return Home to True Mandalorians and Victory (52 - 47 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 cousin Lu'uk Ordo were transported at one of the lower-belt landing platforms via shuttle from Sundari. The two 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.

Young 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 smiled. "I can't believe how good my leg feels," he then looked at Ferrigo 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."

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

"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 my cabin. I think he might have been a Jedi or something like that." Ordo regarded Ferrigo as he guided his cousin 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. The atrium, and the apartment building were 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," Ordo regarded his cousin 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 incredulously.

"Oh, I'm with you," Lu'uk said as they ascended to the third level up 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.

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.

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.

Returning to the bed, 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.

''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 gutteral 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! Your cousin even easier!" 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 did not see the grey, striped Trandoshan nor 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, soaking wet from the heat that surrounded her and her young lover.

Ferrigo just smiled, his young face drenched in perspiration. "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 Haran, dala!" Ferrigo held her tightly to him. "Be my girl, Voodoo."

She gasped involuntarily with his movement, then shook her head with a grim smile. "You're a stud, Ferrigo. But I have 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. 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 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. He 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.

"Ferrigo!" His parents shouted in unison and embraced him tightly, with his mother kissing his cheeks.

His mother pressed slightly. "Ferrigo, we are so happy to see you...but you seem...different."

"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 said curtly. "He set me up to be killed. 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. Equipment that our own company produced. I'm lucky to be alive."

Signara Ordo-Prosstang said with sadness. "As was your cousin Lu'uk. Until a few days ago."

His father interjected. "We heard he 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. "Montross would have everyone believe that. He didn't expect us to survive to tell our stories. But the 'word' you have heard is untrue. Lu'uk was with me the day he was killed. By a Trandoshan. And we were set up."

Q'osstigo complained. "Your mother and I, and others of the clan have been receiving death threats."

"Tell me, Father. Do you do business with the Clan Vizsla?"

"Why, I don't know, though I suppose it's possible," Q'osstigo 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?"

Ferrigo said with conviction, squeezing his right hand into a fist. "Tor Vizsla is an important man within Death Watch."

"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…"

"He is a RUTHLESS KILLER!!! And a TRAITOR to our people!" Ferrigo raged.

Signara held her son's left shoulder. "Please calm down, Ferrigo." Ferrigo felt a warmth spread through his upper torso.

Ferrigo muttered bitterly. "Father, I would consider your dealings more carefully. Tor Vizsla and his goons tried to kill me. They are trying to overthrow the government!"

"Not that I know any better, but Ferrigo...his money would be as good as any other money," his father said, and continued evenly. "Historically, the Prosstangs have sold fine weapons and armor to those who can afford them. No questions asked. It is not the moral mission and not within the powers of our business to choose how they are used...nor who would use them."

"I will find the extent of the betrayal on Korda 6," the young Prosstang pressed his index finger into the top of the veshok table. "I will find the sources of these threats against our clan, and restore the honor of our name."

Q'osstigo lamented. "We have never faced such an internal division among the warrior class in Mandalore, Ferrigo. You must understand how difficult and compromising this so-called civil war has been for our business in the eyes of the New Mandalorian government. Prosstang Industries is short on capital to secure several important mineral rights contracts. These rights would allow us to

diversify our portfolio away from these pressing questions of policy and risk. But we need to make sales. We need to acquire mining rights and sites for chemical processing factories. It is and has been the future of Prosstang Industries."

"Know this, Father. If this company is to succeed in good honor to the Prosstang name in my time, I will not have it through dealings with Death Watch," Ferrigo stated firmly, as his father shook his head slightly. "Until my time, any deals with the Clan Vizsla shall not be safely transacted after receipt of merchandise."

"Don't be a fool, son. I don't take you for an ordinary sixteen year old di'kut from Keldabe or Concord Dawn. You must make peace with the fact that when you are in business, business comes first. And not all Vizslas are like Tor."

Ferrigo said with an edge of hostility. "I won't get in the way of business until business is done, Father. But I think you should avoid cocktails and dinners with customers with known links to Death Watch. They will not be safe affairs."

"Son, if you keep up that line of talk, you will never take my place as chief executive of Prosstang Industries," Q'osstigo simmered. "You shall respect me. I may not be the warrior you wanted me to be, but I have done everything in my power

to build a safe haven for our family and our clan."

Young Ferrigo bowed his head and turned to exit the suite. "I'm sorry, father. I'm out out of line. You have only been good to me." Ferrigo continued out into the Palace gallery overlooking the Great Hall where he spent the next half hour in contemplation.

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. 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
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." "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?"

"Voodoo, you're slowin'. We there yet?" Kal said urgently, before he looked over at Ferrigo, and undressed the smaller unconscious Death Watch operative. "Yeah, 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."

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

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 removed their restraints, he stepped out of the vehicle. 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!"

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 a lot like a type of 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.

...

The Kels'mek Wedding
And so it was, that two weeks later, 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, and 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.

Under Jango's leadership, the True Mandalorians would score a series of victories against Death Watch during the next six years. Ferrigo, Kabur, young Jannigo Prosstang, Kels'mek and a few other notable cousins, and comrades distinguished themselves through their loyalty, cunning strategy, and resourceful tenacity in combat. Tor Vizsla was known to have survived these defeats, but Death Watch was silenced by mid-47 BBY.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> Risky Business (47 - 45 BBY)

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. 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 their 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 insurance 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.

"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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> 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 a shapely, blue-skinned female Rutian 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 do mercenary gigs, too?"

"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!!" 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.

Ferrigo returned the next morning to the Prosstang Castle to fully prepare his gear.

...

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,"Are you talking about university co-eds, Pross?!" Laughter spread throughout the cargo hold.

Ferrigo responded."Don't make me dart you, ner vod."

"No worries for me. You ain't Relia Kels'mek!" Yomaget shouted to the apparent delight of the 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 roofpanels below. Still moving, the ramp opening showed 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 activating 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 brieft plunges and the activation of jetpacks soon following. 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. 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 and jumped off the ramp. Ferrigo shouted. "JETS ON!"

...

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 to 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. I killed your enemies. We will not leave until we are paid in full. 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
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 shock trooper 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> From Slavery to Freedom, the Marriage of Ferrigo & Lorakada, and The Ropes of Business (44 - 39 BBY)

From Slavery to Freedom
Ferrigo's path as a slave took him to Nal Hutta. After six months in service to Gardulla the Hutt as a major domo, he was sold to an unnamed member of the Commerce Guild. Thinking that his was a stroke of great fortune, Ferrigo would be sadly disappointed. He was soon ransomed to his family for several million Republic credits and a significant transfer of shares in Prosstang Industries to an anonymous holding company. He later found out that his cousins, Jannigo and Crack-Shot Ordo, were included in the ransom deal.

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.

Relia Kels'mek reached up for Ferrigo's neck and brought him down to her for a kiss. Two days later, Ferrigo gathered himself together and with no small amount of sorrow and guilt for what they had just done and what he could not bring himself to do. He left Relia Kels'mek in the afterglow of their desperate grief.

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. 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 harvests, 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 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 hunter registration 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?"

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 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> 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, 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 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 Goncourse. "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 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."

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, of the Besadi 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.

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'd 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.

"I will excercise 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 15 minutes, their T-47 was spiraling downward into one of the large ventilatoin ports to the lower levels of Coruscant.

...

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> The Darkest Years (33 - 32 BBY)

A Rare and Peculiar Offer
Prosstang was approached at Prosstang Industries headquarters in Keldabe by the Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas in 33 BBY with an odd proposal: to become the template for warrior clones.

Ferrigo: "Why me?"

Sifo-Dyas: "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."

Ferrigo: "I hardly know you. How do you know me? And how would you know my work schedule?"

Sifo-Dyas: "It should come as no surprise to you that you have been of interest to the Jedi Order since you were a youngling. 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: "I'm not sure I like the idea of having copies of myself wandering the galaxy."

Sifo-Dyas: "There would be modifications to the master copy; to ensure that the clones would not be fully your equal."

Ferrigo: "I'm not interested."

Sifo-Dyas: "You haven't heard the offer."

Ferrigo: "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 renowkned 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 Boltskan: "This guy, Fer'k. You say you have all this intel..."

Ferrigo: "Yeah..."

Arrif Bolts'kan: "...Is it enough?"

Ferrigo: "What do you mean...is it enough?"

Arrif: "This Senator...something...there's something not right with this."

Tan'ek Trat'tu: "So, Ar'f, are you backing out?"

Gela Tre'vhek: "There's NO backing out! We took the payment, we do the job."

Ferrigo: "That's not what you're saying, is it, Ar'f?"

Arrif: "No. I took the job. I'll do it..."

Gela: [Whispering to Ferrigo from his left] "Can he be trusted?"

Tan'ek: [to Arrif, in deadpan] "Di'kutlashebs'osik."

Arrif: [to Tan'ek] "Copaani mirshmure'cye, Tan'k?"

Ferrigo: "Ke'sush!"

Gela: "If you want out, Ar'--"

Arrif: "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.  Those grubby Neimodians were groveling to some hologram of a cloaked figure who told them that they needed to convince THIS Senator that protesting taxes on Outer Rim trade routes was in the best interests of Naboo and..."

Gela: "YOUR POINT. IS...."

Arrif: "Anade...I don't think this Senator is an easy mark."

Ferrigo: "Does it matter? I trained you. You were trained by Jango Fett, our Mand'alor. I trained all of you. Joruur gar gett'se, ner vode - mhi ganar bora."

Loss of Family
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

<p style="margin:0in;margin-left:.375in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:11.0pt"> "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. 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> 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.

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> The Blockade of Mandalore and Meeting Alpha ARC-47 Boomdodger (22 BBY)

Beneath the Blockade
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."

<h2 style="margin:0in;font-family:Calibri;font-size:14.0pt"> 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.

...

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. ...

Trouble on Bandomeer (20 BBY)
...

A Sweet Rustic Roundelay with His Baroness (17 BBY)
...

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