Ferrigo Prosstang

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Damn straight."

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

"Oya!!"

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

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

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

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

Early Childhood (68 - 61 BBY)

''“He is our sweet boy, Q’oss. I will not let him go. He has a future in the clan. He is so very smart and inquisitive.”''

''“I know Signa. I’m not suggesting we turn him over to those mystical Jedi. Not at all, my love. I just don’t think your mom has all her bundles on the cart, either. Ferrigo is also spirited, in that he likes to fight.”''

''“I didn’t say I agreed with her idea of watching him all the time, either Q’oss. But he does need someone to tend to his education. And fighting is not something we need to encourage.”''

''“Aren’t you working for the Department of Education, Signa? Don’t they say teach to the person, make the most of their potential?”''

''“Very funny. You wanted a son. And now you want a warrior to fight the battles you weren’t allowed to. It’s still illegal to carry weapons, my love. And my son is not going to be a goon, or pawn.” ''

 – Signara Ordo-Prosstang to her husband, Q’osstigo Prosstang, the Aliit’alor Prosstang, about their son’s care and future.

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

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

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

''“I’ve seen him at play, as you requested. He’d make a fine warrior, in time. It’ll be a hard life for your boy. I don’t pull punches, Aliit’alor Prosstang. If he’s your heir, you might lose him—”''

“It’s what he wants, Mand’alor.”

''“He’s seven years old. A good age for him to get started. You might only see him a few months each year. He will see battle before he’s ten.”''

''“Do you think he could become a leader? Can you train him?” ''

''“If he survives the suffering, the thirst, the hunger, the anger, the lust. And harnesses his exceptional reflexes, and native intelligence. Every warrior must learn to master these things. Remember?” ''

''“Yes. I do.”   ''

''“Of course you do, Lord Prosstang. You might have lost some of what you learned, but your brothers and I were there. You had the talent, they didn’t. Really, it was too bad that your father pulled you out.” ''

''“I had to learn to become the man I am today. I have no regrets.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“If you are pledging to have me and my experts train your son, you should know that he will become more than your son. We will raise him to adulthood, not in your image, but in his own. He will know how to live a warrior life known to our ancestors, but without the ambition of conquest. He will be confident, proud, honorable, and capable of living fully as a true son of Mandalore.”     ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Oya manda. For my child.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“For Mandalore.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Jaster Mereel, Mand’alor, elite warrior, and mercenary trainer discusses the pledging of Q’osstigo Prosstang’s only son in 61 BBY to train and serve Mereel into adulthood.

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.

The earliest years of training featured exercises and games that increased physical fitness, highlighted individual skills and talents and fostered cameraderie and learning through teamwork and emulation. Ferrigo particularly enjoyed meshgeroya, also known in Galactic Basic as the beautiful game, known to the galaxy at-large as limmie or bolo-ball. The injuries were rarely serious enough to require incapacitation, as most of Mereel's men, and women, played hard but clean.

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 had prematurely celebrated a 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.

As Ferrigo entered his early teenage years, he took greater notice of the presence of women in the ranks of the ori'ramikade. Some had been there since he joined. Relia Vu'udrel and Ghetta Dehet were rivals, each of them attempting to outdo the other. In many things. It was said that the sparkling blue-eyed Relia could shake out her long brown hair and captivate any man or boy. Ghetta's curly red hair and silver blue eyes were attractive to many, but most would concede that Relia was the more attractive of the two. Ferrigo nursed a secret crush for Relia from the time he and Jango Fett first peeked at her, Rav Bralor and Ghetta in the shower at the training center on Concord Dawn. He was twelve years old, Rav and Relia twenty-four. Ghetta was twenty-two, but looked easily the older of the three women.

Between Relia and Ghetta, the latter woman was assumed the smarter and more cunning of the pair of rivals. As she was heavier set and seemed to have a deeper edge of bitterness that came from being raised on a large farm with poor soils in the northern reaches of the Prosstang Region, Ghetta was superior in straight forward brawling. Relia preferred ranged weapons, excelling in swift, acrobatic movement, and gauntlet-mounted dart launchers. On occasion, as a result of their struggle to impress the males of the unit, they would engage in hand-to-hand combat dressed only in their bathing suits. Usually, Kal Skirata and Montross separated the two.

Among the older male vode, Relia was usually available and willing to entertain and please them. Both Relia and Ghetta had separately approached Ferrigo in private to tell him that he would be welcomed to learn the art of becoming a man. Ferrigo pushed both of them away, most especially Ghetta. The word around was that Ghetta was a social climber who chased the leadership of the True Mandalorians, seeking advantage where she could. Relia was said to be more inclined to share herself without regard to anything but pleasure.

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

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Well, Pross. Should be easy money. ”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“That’s what Jaster said, Jango.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Keep your head on straight, Pross. Everyone comes back. No more ghost stories for you the night before shipping out.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Whatever you say, Jango.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Shut it, kids. Prosstang, go to the Vertigo Squad landing craft. Give the troops a last inspection. I have a few things to coordinate with Jango.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Yes, sir, Montross, sir.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Jango Fett, Ferrigo Prosstang, and Montross before departing for Korda-6.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">

In 52 BBY, the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel responded to a paid rescue call regarding a detachment of Kordan Defense Force rookies reportedly under heavy fire by insurgents on Korda-6. Ferrigo was re-assigned with his older cousin Lu'uk Ordo and young cousin Jannigo Prosstang by request to Montross and his aerial-attack Vertigo Squad. 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, which featured another of Ferrigo's cousins, Yomaget Tre'vhek. Prior to boarding, Mereel approached Prosstang and then Fett, imploring each of them to make him proud.

As the scene unfolded it became clear that the distress call was a ploy in an elaborate trap, from the moment the landing ships entered the atmosphere of Korda-6 under heavy anti-air ion cannon fire to the exceptionally heavy and accurate ground fire in each of the landing zones.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ferrigo removed his helmet, looked at it and then regarded with deep concern his cousin. Lu'uk seemed to be rapidly fading in strength. "My helmet comm isn't working, that ge'hutuun Montross sabotaged us!" Ferrigo looked around, and saw nobody approaching, then 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, in desperation and care. He began to chant a song that he had no recollection of hearing before. In his mind, he heard a woman speaking to him - guiding him. Heat was breathing through his hands and he began repeatedly chanting her voice as he heard it, as his hands moved above Lu'uk's leg, "Go'iviinkadla go'iviinkadla be jehaala be jehaala…"

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

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

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

"KIss my shebs." Lu'uk groaned.

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

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

A broken balcony roof!

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

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

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

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

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

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

-My Mandalore.

Ferrigo Prosstang emerged from the apartment building carrying his younger cousin over his shoulder. As he neared the place he left Lu'uk Ordo, he noticed that Ordo was sound asleep. Something was clear after another hour. Lu'uk, Jannigo and Ferrigo had been left behind. Betrayed by Montross. He felt a sudden shift in his awareness, as if immediately immersed in a dream.

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

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Weekly report. Centaxday, 25,001.4.08. During my investigation into Republic arms shipments reported missing in the Inner Rim, I have come across a vergence in the Living Force. I’m not sure how I was drawn to Korda-6, but by the will of the Force. ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">"The Kordans, thought primitive, were in possession of upwards of five hundred personal weapons and several anti-armor and anti-aerial weapons. Mandalorians are involved. The vergence I spoke of is centered on a young Mandalorian male warrior. He is restrained, in custody. Notably, he possessed the likeness of an energy blade weapon I once read of, long ago taken from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">"I will have more details in my next report. Jinn out.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn, recorded audio report received by the Jedi Temple communications center in early-mid 52 BBY.

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

Ferrigo tried to shift in his seat, and asked. "Where am I and who are you?"

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

"I say nothing," Ferrigo said stoically.

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

"That was a gift from my father."

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

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

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

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

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

It took several minutes for Ferrigo to speak again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jinn spoke in a brighter tone. "Your mentor sounds like a wise and honorable man. I am sorry for you and your people that he no longer walks in this galaxy. But you may follow his principles still. Meditate on your relationship to the Force. You may become better able to hear the will of the Force. And your Grandmother may speak to you…Farewell, young Prosstang. And stay out of trouble. These are troubled times for Mandalore. Be a man of peace if you can."

Ferrigo smiled and waved as Jinn returned up the ramp to the cruiser. Ferrigo and Lu'uk soon afterward boarded a shuttle to Negat Cube City, nearly 20 kilometers away from Sundari. Lu'uk called Negat Cube City home. Other Mandalorians called it worse.

Return Home to Mandalore (52 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“I think it’s a bad idea, Voodoo.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“I know you love me, Kal. And everything I do.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“The Ordo kid is not worth the credits. And even if he’s a di’kut, he is one of us.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Kal…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“No, Relia. You’ve got Tyro’s tags on your nightstand. You dropped me, along with everyone else. Let’s focus on this osik’la job you’ve taken.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“You’re in it too, honey. And don’t worry, Vau is out. So’s Tyro. Heading to Concord Dawn to train the older kids. Jango, Prosstang, Myles, and that dar’manda Geessil.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“You haven’t heard? Jaster got sorted by that chakaar Vizsla on Korda-6. Your intel was shoddy, Voodoo. We were lucky to get out of there with our shebse attached.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Sorry. Hard to make close friends with gorillas, Kal. Mereel should have put Ghetta on that job.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''   “Funny, dala. Jango’s in charge now…Yeah, the kid.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“He’s not a fan of mine, Kal. I do like his tall friend, though. Prosstang?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Focus, Voodoo. Word is that Lu’uk Ordo and the Prosstangs arrived at Sundari in the last hour. Together.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Are you gonna stick with me Kal?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Voodoo. You know I don’t do jobs involving our troops. I’m disappointed in you that you don’t feel the same. And you should stop smoking those death sticks.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Spare me the righteous act, Kal. They’re just lightly spiced smokes. As far as this job goes, you know I work intel, and this ain’t a wet one. I’m just helping a lizard track Ordo because he’s a shabla’osikyc bantha shebse who doesn’t pay his gambling debts.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“If the Prosstang boys come into the playing field, whatcha gonna do then, Voodoo? Huh?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“The lizard knows the contract. I’m not getting involved. Just passing along info. Thanks for the tip on Ordo.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“And the Prosstangs…I have worked for those boys’ clan chieftain, Voodoo. I don’t trust the lizard. What are you gonna do?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Stop. Back off, Kal. I’ll think of something.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Kal Skirata and Relia Vu’udrel, two Mandalorian warrior-operatives trained by Jaster Mereel, discuss complications of a recent job in a booth at Glassed, a tapcaf near Vu’udrel’s Mesh’laruuk-23 city apartment, in early-mid 52 BBY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess I don't need it, Grandmother?

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

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

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

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

No heat traces from thermal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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. "Hod Ha'ran, Ferrigo, I know it's only been a year or two, but you got really tall."

Ferrigo smiled, with a slight blush, and squeezed Relia's hand tighter.

The bartender asked her about her drink. "Put it on the tab or in the fridge. I'll be back in a half-hour."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't need to say that, Pross. You're just a kid," she wiped his sweat away from his face, and from their chests. But haar'chak, you come out of the shower looking like you've taken a beating, and then you do this to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was called on by the Jedi Order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Correcting the Record
After several communications, Jango Fett agreed to receive Ferrigo at his discreetly located apartment in one of the warehousing districts of Sundari. The young Fett and three of their comrades were present, all in modest street clothing, including Fett's second-in-command, Myles, and Silas, who had always seemed to be a little too reverent toward Jango. The third was Ijaat Kabur. Around forty-five 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 in 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 without emotion. "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 shebs 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 shebs where you sit, and despite the fact that Jaster Mereel himself told me to take you under my wing, I won't hesitate to do it if you kriff with me." Ferrigo moved his palm to rest flat on top of his thigh. "Because Mereel told me to keep an eye on you, I was in Negat when I heard that a Republic ship carrying two Mandalorian citizens was arriving at Sundari. It had to be you and Ordo, and I knew that he wasn't welcomed at Prosstang Town.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ferrigo's mouth dropped open.

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

"Got it, sir."

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

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

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

"Kal, I want to find out who's put a price on my head. Let's go, please. And it's Ferrigo, not Fer'ika."

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 with a sharp Negative accent, and 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 blue rings seemingly floated on zephyrs from under Kal's corner of the table toward the bank of booth tables along the entrance wall. Ferrigo brandished his pistol, readying his fingers as he watched two men wearing black jackets fall from their benches onto the floor. Kal's aim had been true. Both shots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ferrigo returned the smile, and continued sipping tihaar.

Nobody went home in a bad mood.

Risky Business, Part I (The Legend of Redar 'Schingo' Velrrus is Born)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“As long as you understand the nature of our business relationship, Lord Prosstang, you will continue to have the backing of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Thank you for everything, Magister Damask.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“When business is concluded on Makem Te, I would be delighted to receive you and your brother at Sojourn for the Gathering.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“We would be honored.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Hego Damask, Magister of the InterGalactic Banking Clan, to Q’osstigo Prosstang, chief executive officer of Prosstang Industries, in 52 BBY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know that it is only a matter of time, Tetch, and I will have my certification. From the academy for forensic investigations," Melaa Kuporr grinned proudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks for the setup, Kuporr."

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

"Pleasure to meet you. Let us be safe."

Ferrigo was clear that his clansmen from the rural south were not long-fluent in using Basic. Tetch Kuporr was an exception, having spent much more time than his younger siblings outside of Kaitom'prosstang, and Mandalore in general.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, Neelis."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''Grandmother. ''

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Be there soon as can, Velrrus," Su'uleezs said gruffly.

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

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

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

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

What are you saying?! Ferrigo wondered to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Cease or be destroyed!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mandalorians!

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

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

The serpent flapped its tongue and trilled with seeming delight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm insane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" Melaa Kuporr stared at him.

"Really. Do you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What advisors then, Baron Prosstang?"

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

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

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

"As Redar Velrrus."

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

Maybe so.

Troubling Dellalt (51 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Is it not peculiar, Sate, that a man is rumored to not only have the capability of taming animals, but to bring them back from death?” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I wouldn’t know, Senator. The galaxy has an add collection of beings from worlds that seem to defy reason. Seems like anything is possible.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Yes, of course. I am curious, though. Please have some people look into that story. And report back to me with their findings.” ''

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Senator Sheev Palpatine, recently elected to serve the Chommel Sector, to one of his aides, Sate Pestage, during a break in the Senator’s meeting schedule while visiting his homeworld of Naboo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The boss? The chieftain?"

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

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

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

"Nothing."

"Get me 'nother Narcolethe then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ferrigo was dumbfounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In captivity," Su'uleezs growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you, Soo?" Kuporr asked.

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

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

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

"Well...WHAT?" Ferrigo exclaimed.

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

Ferrigo was stunned, but continued to follow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talking about, kid?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They're on the roofs!

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

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

"Kad!! "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How about you, Schingo?"

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

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

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

-No!-

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

-You must survive-

-Our children await their father's return-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lift."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am sure he be coming back."

A Vacation of Epic Contortions - Zeltros Up Close (51 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“I want to get paid.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“And you will. In due time. Why are you sssso impatient?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“I’ve got bills to pay, Xossk. My ship’s needed repairs, and I’m paying dry dock fees. Three weeks now. Let’s just say that my experience with Trandoshans is that paydays aren’t that important to them. And you've been no different. Dellalt’s been more than a few months now.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“You’ll get what’ssss coming to you, Gerrik. But you have to complete sssome work on Zeltrosss.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“How am I supposed to get there?” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Baytt Gerrik, Mandalorian bounty hunter, to his Trandoshan colleague, Xossk, at a Torn Station cantina in 51 BBY.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">

A Deepening Love
Things considered intimate were often shared in public on Zeltros. A feast or an exceptionally disturbing series of offenses for the eyes of any onlooker.

The lovers, a tall pale-skinned brown-haired human male, with a lean, muscular build and a fit, curvy, pink-skinned, deep blue-haired Zeltron female held hands as they laid nude on the beach. As they had many times over the last few months. Their bodies had minimal plumage, shaped for their mutual enjoyment at her suggestion. Many observant tourists had been watching their periodic embraces and kisses with great interest. Her pink skin had been deepening in hue, as Ferrigo's own skin had been tanning from their bathing under the primary star.

They remained under the setting primary until their mutual touches and caresses, made their arousal noticeable. They gazed into each other's eyes, and she grasped for and acquired his distinction with her left hand. His right hand, in turn, cupped her shapely, round behind as they walked up the beachfront slope to her penthouse apartment, in a towering seven-story building. Many Zeltrons and off-worlders gawked at Ferrigo and Kenna as they coveted each other in their homeward procession.

Once there, Ferrigo and Kenna made love on the balcony with great, savage lust. Her screams of love for him and his grunting yells of love for her punctuated a loud applause of flesh. The rapidly squeaking deck lounge chair cracked and collapsed under the weight of their outrageous passion.

The sweat soaked couple moaned, as they laid on the ceramisteel tile flooring of the balcony. "Schingo, my sweet lover. You know you knock me out," Kenna gasped and sobbed.

Ferrigo, wiped his young face with his hand as he too gasped, and he groaned as he stood up. "My boots, Ken'ka. You have everything I could give you, baby."

The Zeltron pushed her damp blue hair away from her ear as Ferrigo picked her up from the floor and held her against his chest. She held her arm out and looked down to watch his framed endowment jostled by each step. She gasped and sighed. "My god, I think you have more to give, Schingo. And you have given me so much already. I love you, my strapping stud."

Ferrigo grunted, very pleased with the gorgeous Luxara and her words of encouragement. He took her to her bed, and laid her down gently.

"Where are you going?" she panted. "Don't leave me," she cooed and shifted in the bed, a space indicated for him with a motion of her hand.

"Not leaving," he muttered as he sifted through his shoulder bag, fishing out a gold chain necklace with a large oval of dark, smokey crystal braced in a golden basket. "I have this. Something special to me. For you, my precious Kenna." She smiled and let him put it around her neck, the crystal resting near the top of her chest. "I love you, Ms. Kenna Luxara."

Kenna's lips reached up for his and soon they resumed their love-making, indoors. Exploring each other, tasting of their differences. Immense pleasure and loving shared. As they gently bounced, together and apart, the beautiful pink woman gazed into Ferrigo's eyes and gasped. "Schingo, you make me so happy," she pulled his neck closer with her arms and whispered with a soft rasp. "I'm carrying your baby. Two months, Schingo. Our baby." Kenna nibbled and kissed his ear.

After he strained the last of his offerings into her embracing love of him, Ferrigo sighed. "Marry me, Kenna. Be my wife. Mine. Forever. I will be forever faithful to you."

She smiled and shook her head. "Silly boy. You know that wouldn't work. I do love you. But I can't say no to pleasure. You know I will treat you right." She caressed his scruffy bearded face.

Ferrigo smiled tightly, as if fighting back tears. "I know."

A Moment's Rest
At The Wicked Smile, a popular beach resort restaurant, Preniik Su'uleezs, Melaa and Brelek Kuporr sat at a table with Ferrigo and Kenna. All wore stylish solar-reflective lensed glasses or goggles. Ferrigo and Kenna held hands and kissed often, and occasionally made verbally clear their affection for one another. She wore the necklace her young Mandalorian lover had given her days before.

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

Brelek spoke up. "Schingo. Is Kenna wearing the necklace you got from the Swokesies - for doing that snake dance thing with my sister here?"

Ferrigo half-nodded with a slight grin, and kissed his Zeltron lover's hand again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look, I'm learning a lot here," Ferrigo spread his hands. ''She's the mother of my child. Respect.''

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Awwww, duty calls?" Melaa teased.

Preniik shook his head slowly as he grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''My love! My love! Our baby! My love! My life! Hod Ha'ran!''

He checked the exit door handle. It was locked, and he kicked feebly at the door. He cried again as he looked at Kenna. Her chest was still slightly heaving. His mouth trembled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Schingo Strikes Out Alone, Part One (51 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“He is devastated, my Lord. She was carrying his baby.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Miss Kuporr. He is learning that life is painful. Will you maintain this knowledge in confidence, and do as I’ve instructed?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Aliit’alor, you know that I respect you. But even if I did not, what choice would I have? I care about…Redar.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“You…love my son?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“He is not your son, Aliit’alor. He has changed.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“I’m not sure you have a clear mind in his regard, Miss Kuporr. You have feelings for him, don’t you?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“I’m not sure you have a right to know how I feel, my Lord.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“I admire your spirit, Miss Kuporr. Remain in contact with my son. Whoever you think he might be.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Gladly, Aliit’alor Prosstang.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Melaa Kuporr, Mandalorian security officer in the employment of Q’osstigo Prosstang, as her clan chieftain and chief executive of Prosstang Industries, in 51 BBY.

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

"You're making a mistake, Ferrigo."

"Really?" Ferrigo rubbed his scruff-covered chin and cheeks and set both his hands on his waist. "Two words. Kenna. Luxara."

Q'osstigo Prosstang gaped at his son. "I wanted you to be happy, son."

"Tried out the goods first?! See if she could make me happy?!" Ferrigo was deeply bitter, and suddenly his face was a mask of unrestrained fury, his hands spread as if in preparation for a melee.

"NO!" his father stood from his chair and seethed in anger. But turned it inside.

"I LOVED HER!!! DEMAGOL'KA!!" Ferrigo raged in tears, his fists clenched and raised.

Q'osstigo inhaled deeply. His father then raised his finger. "I NEVER touched her!" the elder Prosstang composed himself, took several deep breaths and slowly rounded his desk. "Kenna Luxara was an accomplished pilot. And intoxicatingly beautiful. I believed that you needed a companion. A mentor. A woman who could teach you everything...give you everything...a young man would need or want."

"You manipulated me."

"I did." Q'osstigo sighed, and touched his left hand on his desk. "I wanted you to know love from baser animal instincts. To protect you from making rash choices. Luxara received no orders from me, aside from keeping an eye on you. Nature took its course, son."

Ferrigo kept his hands at his waist and glared at his father. "You will never understand me. Or the heartbreak you have caused. Everyone you hired. To keep an eye on me."

"It was for your own good, Ferrigo. I love you, my son."

"She killed herself, father! I pity you. And I pity my mother," the younger Prosstang turned to leave.

"I am sorry, son."

"I am Redar Velrrus." Ferrigo left the Palace Office of the Aliit'alor Prosstang.

He walked solemnly between the Palace and the Prosstang Castle up the hill. Once at the Castle, he went to his private quarters and changed into his bright red beskar'gam. He had repaired and cleaned his gauntlets, helmet and jetpack during the previous few days.

Ferrigo checked his own personal comm datapad. Many messages. Codenames.

A message from Luxara. ''Schingo, I love you! Miss you! Gonna eat you up! You're gonna be a Daddy!! Your sweet Kenna. ''Ferrigo shook his head, seeing visions of his pink Zeltron lover. Making him happy in every way he had known. "I destroyed us." His lips tightened as he continued to check the messages.

Several messages from Preniik Su'uleezs. ''Know you have a lot on your plate, Schingo. Contact me. I have work for you.''

''No more games. I'm on my own.'' Ferrigo dropped the datapad and crushed it with his boot heel. If home is where the heart is, where do the heartless find a home?

The Smuggler's Moon - A Career in Bounty Hunting Begins (50 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Please, tell me Master Dooku. Do you believe that the Jedi hold all of the knowledge about the nature of the Force?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“With all due respect, Senator Palpatine, why do you ask such a question?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“Well, it is proper for you to inquire of my purpose, I suppose, as the Jedi judiciously guard many secrets for the betterment and protection of peace and harmony in the Galactic Republic.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“The Republic Senate is indeed not equipped to handle the protection of the mysteries of the Force. But that is beside your point, I hope, which is…”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Healers, Master Dooku. I ask, because of a reported miracle of healing performed at the Tract of Makem Te not more than two years ago. By a Mandalorian...security guard. Who could believe such a thing?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“You have my attention, Senator, though I would hesitate to continue this conversation without a clear indication of your line of questioning, or verification of this event to which you refer.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“There are Swokes Swokes of Makem Te who believe in the truth of this miracle. Do you believe that Force-sensitive beings can exist without the knowledge of the Jedi Order? Beings capable of extending, or even restoring life?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Senator Sheev Palpatine of Naboo, and Jedi Master Dooku at a diplomatic meeting on Coruscant, in 50 BBY.

Ferrigo had fully taken up his identity as Schingo Velrrus, a young Mandalorian bounty hunter who lived in various locations around Nar Shaddaa. By his third bounty, the lessons of Jaster Mereel, and even Montross, had resurfaced in his memory. He was increasingly efficient in setting traps, bombs, ruses and intricate plots to earn a reward and bring in the hard merchandise. Most of his jobs were short-term security, fugitive tracking or investigations of personal or property crimes.

At times, he thought of his father and mother. Voodoo. Luxara. And Grandmother Lunasa. He also thought of Preniik Su'uleezs, Kal Skirata, Baytt Gerrik, the one-handed Arkanian, the Quermian, the black-clad warriors on Dellalt and the Trandoshan Xossk.

He had ensured that his outward connections as Ferrigo Prosstang were at a minimum. He used a solution on his red beskar'gam to dissolve most of the painted areas down to a dull grey base. Save for a gold-trimmed purple serpent within a four-point red star near the top of his left chestplate, only a few accent pieces remained red. His gauntlets, boots, covers for knees, shoulders and elbows, and the trim around his helmet visor remained bright red.

He had spent half of a year on Nar Shaddaa and in other systems within Hutt Space. In his small flat in Nar Shaddaa's Mandalorian Sector, he read, listened, improved on his rudimentary Huttese, researched and recorded encoded notes. Most of his jobs were in the Corellian Sector, where he had a slightly larger apartment with a few temporary holding cages, and more interior and exterior security measures. Ferrigo regularly followed his jobs, even the smallest of jobs, with detailed reports. When he could, he also solicited and looked up background on his competition.

The Slag Pit
Having felt the eyes of a certain Klatooinian on him through the evening, among others, Ferrigo took a slow, deep breath with his back facing the rest of the cantina. Having already pressed a series of buttons on his right gauntlet, the tapped a few keys to transmit the coded bounty post from the kiosk at The Slag Pit into his dataport. The Pit was an infamous cantina in the secluded Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa. He entered his recently issued Hutt Cartel Recovery Agent Authentication Code into his right gauntlet to lock the bounty display screen.

''Job Code: B506X-013268. Wanted: DEAD. Merch: Varobb Dehb. Location: Nar Shaddaa likely. Descrip: Fugitive Klatooinian servant. Other: Known killer. Other 2: Armed and dangerous. Reward: 5000 GRC or equivalent. Client Number: 32-64203-TH-351. Location: Unknown. Special: Detailed finishing. ''

The job code, as Ferrigo learned during his first week, could be broken down. "B" for bounty, "5" for target risk of resistance on 5 scale, "06" on 20 scale for a logit regression model estimate of the target's ability to evade capture. The "X" marked the target for death or destruction. Straight up. Otherwise, the last spot of the 'Top Five' for a common job was usually an "A" for activate, "H" for capture and hold, "D" for deactivate, and "R" for retrieve and deliver. "Z" was reserved for contractor option, usually 'dead or alive'.

A special instruction at the end of a contract listing could be a wildcard. In the case of Varobb Dehb, the client wanted to witness the execution. Ferrigo considered adding to his fee for the show. He tapped in a response on the kiosk display screen that noted an expected upward fee adjustment of fifteen percent for the 'detailed finishing.'

''Crazy. All of this crazy. I am Schingo Velrrus. Snake. Bounty hunter. Tracker. And now...hired assassin.''

Ferrigo glanced at his HUD displays, and winked appropriately to access information about the beings in his immediate surroundings. Faint green-yellow light illuminated the edges of each patron in the inset image from center to upper right. He tapped buttons on his left gauntlet deftly, as if scratching his forearm. His vocal enunciator was silent, the chin and neck gasket of his helmet sealed.

''We have hard merchandise, delivered on the welcome mat, Schingo. This IS a five-oh-six.'' A loud ping sounded in Ferrigo's helmet. An olive-complectioned Klatooinian, haloed in red moved behind Ferrigo's back, drawing a pistol. "Mirshir," Ferrigo chirped into his vocal receptor as his body snapped into action.

With lightning reflexes, Ferrigo dropped his left shoulder and torso, spun his hips and swung his left heel hard counter-clockwise to sweep the feet from under the lumbering canine humanoid, knocking him to the floor. A bolt of green plasma energy tore into the ceiling above the Mandalorian and his quarry.

The surprised face of Varobb Dehb gasped and gazed into the cold dark visor of a grey and red-trimmed Mandalorian shocktrooper. Without warning, Ferrigo tightened his grip on the wrist of the supine Klatooinian and held two fingers of his right hand on his left gauntlet. Blue arcs of electricity coursed through Varobb Dehb's jerking and flailing body. The bounty's roars were punctuated by his own electrified teeth clamping rhythmically on his now bleeding tongue.

Ferrigo let up on his gauntlet button after five counts. The Slag Pit began to rumble with activity and distress as the Mandalorian bounty hunter dragged the smoking, limp body of the fugitive toward the front door by the forearm. As a hue and cry rose from the mixed-species cantina patronage, the young Mandalorian issued unheard commands into his vocal receptor. He glanced into he upper left corner of his HUD.

Foonta. Satisfactory. He would have an additional seven hundred fifty credits added to this bounty on completion. Now the task was getting Dehb to the client for the finale.

A few heavy-set Kajain'sa Nikto armed with melee vibro-axes closed on Ferrigo. In one movement, he quickly twitched his left gauntlet, and raised it level with the throats of the approaching horn-faced humanoids.

He had heard the tell-tale schick-scheck of the PSAM-model dart launcher ratchet-loader. "Bolla neechu peedunkees," Ferrigo said aloud. Both Nikto slowed to a stop as Ferrigo completed his exit from The Pit. Ferrigo's HUD showed no surrounding threats as he knitted his hands together across the chest of Dehb, under his arms, lifted and dragged him at a faster pace toward an idling swoop bike.

Moving Klatooinian Merchandise
Ferrigo put electro-binders on his bounty's wrists behind his back and strapped the hard merchandise to the rear of the generous-length swoop seat with a PSAM/Tre'vhek Fasten-It Web. He tapped a few buttons on his right gauntlet and spoke into his vocal receptor. "Hard merchandise secured for B506X-013268. Transmit location for final disposition within two standard hours."

He mounted the swoop bike, changed his HUD settings and began his ride toward the Duros Sector, fully expecting that the client show would be located in the Undercity.

The ride through the Corellian Sector was uneventful. Entry into the Duros Sector was simple. A flash of his Hutt Cartel Recovery Agent card, or HCRA card. The uniformed Nikto of the Hutt Cartel Security League waved Ferrigo past with his blaster carbine. Even with a humanoid fastened to the rear of his ride, uninspected. ''Nar Shaddaa. ''

Ferrigo's hunch was correct. A message popped into his HUD indicating that Dehb's last stop would be at an address featuring a non-descript rectangular storage building in one of the higher vacancy industrial districts in Nar Shaddaa's Undercity. From the schematic plans he was able to call on from his research into property records, there was one drive up loading door, four 'dock-high' loading doors for easy transfer of freight from large ground-based vehicles, and two large upper floor bays with reinforced platforms to support medium-sized aerial freighters. Only three walk-up entrances, and one of them was marked emergency purpose only.

A few quick points he was able to cull from the vast dump of data heading down the left side of his HUD included the difficulty several subdistrict industrial realtors had in marketing an area with severely substandard utilities. The high crime rate. And, he had heard about the ganks.

As quickly as he could on his approach, he surmised the best-to-worst approaches and departures from the erstwhile Pappy Jack's Gorg-o-licious Goods warehouse. He made a quick detour a half-kilometer from the site, and dismounted his swoop after he pulled near a charming, raised antique power transformer. Complete with backup overhead cable wires.

Ferrigo readied a small lumpy block of claylike explosive material and affixed a small strip of thermal datafoil to the block. A few small green unlit indicator lights made the datafoil and attached block stand out visually. He placed the block into his right hand, and activated his jetpack, which ignited and lifted him up to the spare, grated durasteel platform around the transformer. He cut the jetpack thrust and landed with solid footing on the platform. The young Mandalorian placed the block near the shunt housing of the transformer, and pressed it firmly into a gap between cylinders.

He leapt backward off the platform and dropped slightly before his jetpack activated and reduced the speed of his descent and the contact of his heavy boots with the well-worn street near the swoop bike. Ferrigo could hear Dehb groaning on the back of the seat.

He swung his right leg over the seat and mounted the swoop. Ferrigo depresssed the pedals and resumed his way to the derelict food warehouse, and on arrival, pulled the swoop parallel to the ground-level loading door with a sidewise flourish, by applying only the front brakes. Varobb Dehb, trapped in a sturdy but flexible net, yelped as the momentum stretched his torso toward the door.

Ferrigo quickly dismounted the swoop and unbuckled the net fastenings. He rolled the net roughly and attached the clips to small durasteel seat loops. Dehb struggled. The young Mandalorian pulled Dehb up and off the swoop by his collar and the wrist binders behind his back.

The Klatooinian had a few choice words for Ferrigo, barely intelligible.

"Doesn't change a thing." Ferrigo dragged Dehb by the collar with his left gloved hand. The humanoid began to growl and bark, twisting as Ferrigo rapped heavily on the loading ramp door. "Calm down. Someone wants to see you."

"Anurgga?!" Varobb Dehb shouted in terror, trying to glance at the bounty hunter.

The door rolled upward noisily. A motley collection of Gamorreans, Nikto and Weequay armed with a wide variety of personal weapons of modest or basic quality yielded from the entry of the poorly-lit warehouse as Ferrigo dragged the Klatooinian into the warehouse ten long strides.

"Varobb Dehb is here." Ferrigo stated confidently. "For the show."

"Chowbasa Raydar Vaylahroosa," a loud, low rumbling voice from the shadows.

"Achuta, mwa lorda," Ferrigo responded respectfully, scanning his surroundings as he removed his right-side Taddie from its holster. "Dobrah wata che moulee rah."

"I promise, Anurgga! I will give all the credits back!" the Klatooinian pleaded as Ferrigo held his collar firmly.

"Choy? Echuta! Varobb dopa-maskey!" a sizable Hutt shuffled into partial light. "Killee bu sleemo!"

The young Prosstang regarded the Hutt. His HUD indicated a green threat level. Just like Dehb. Hutuun. He placed the muzzle of the blaster downward to the rear of Varobb Dehb's neck and pulled the trigger, feeling the pulse of energy surge through the Klatooinian's body as the shot pierced the heart and lungs. He dropped Dehb and stepped over his body and administered a finishing capo shot.

The young Mandalorian straightened his stance and raised his smoking pistol across his chest. "Moulee rah."

The Hutt strung together many words in a lower tone, and began to slide away, back into shadow. One of his Weequay lieutenants spoke up. "The Mighty Lord Anurgga has another job for you. And will double your fee."

"We'll settle this job now, for five thousand seven hundred fifty credits. Then we can discuss other business." Ferrigo stated plainly.

The shadow-bathed Weequay gestured casually. "Are you turning down an opportunity to work for Anurgga the Hutt, the Mighty One?"

Ferrigo activated his thermal scan settings in his HUD, and prepared his gauntlets for the full-array of weapons. He tapped a code into his right gaunlet. "Let's keep things professional. Pay me now." He could see, and the HUD confirmed that the Hutt was slithering his way toward a repulsorlift elevator in the far corner of the warehouse.

"Tch tch tch. Not going to happen tonight, Mandalorian," the Weequay chided, to the cacophany of laughter of the other ten body guards. The sound of axe blades chafed together with a pair of squealing grunts accompanied several heavy footfalls.

The First Hutt Double Cross and Schingo's Valor
"I won't forget this, Anurgga." Ferrigo raised both of his arms, pressing a button on his right gauntlet as he withdrew his dark-saber from over his right shoulder. He activated it in front of his helmet and lowered the handle in front of his solar plexus. The lights and all power in the warehouse and indeed the whole subdistrict outside the open loading ramp door went out. Pitch black. The hum of electricity running throughout the warehouse went silent.

Ferrigo's fast footwork began toward the loading door, as he whirled with a double handed powerstroke and sliced through the faces of two Gamorreans in one whistling blow. Without slowing, the blurred purple-glow of the shimmering blade spun, dodged, counter-spun and parried as Ferrigo cleaved weapons, wrists, arms, necks and waists. His dazzling feet and the strength in his turning hips carried him in a wide counter-clockwise arc around the initially-stunned gathering of guards.

Packets of plasma energy seemed to dance around the large interior of the warehouse in order to provide the guards with the slightest hint of light. Ferrigo took only one shot to the helmet and one to his chestplate. These shots, deflected from solid shaped beskar did not slow nor impede the young, fierce Mandalorian from his fleeting, nimble, zig-zagging, dazzling and brutal attack. The HUD thermal readings guided him clearly along his path of destruction. And showed him enemies approaching from what would apparently be his blind spots. His dark-saber slashed trom side to side with a faint hum, and cut the thick air with whistling zips until punctuated with the cracking of armor, bone or the smacking of flesh. Anurgga's hapless guards, when not decapitated cleanly, screamed and groaned from their mortal wounds. Hanging onto their dear lives. Lives that departed in the darkness.

In Ferrigo's vision, the images of the flailing humanoids succumbing to the slashing, spinning and thrusting blade of glowing purple competed with the image of Kenna Luxara's tragic end. The young Mandalorian, enraged, was certain, swift, and sinuous in motion as he continued his onslaught. The clattering aside of weapons, kicks and punches with sweeps of his fast-moving blade was accompanied by occasional pops from his gauntlet dart launcher. The darts were seemingly fired without regard, but they were precisely directed at guards who believed they could approach from his left side or rear. The arcs of electricity that sizzled through the skulls, armor and limbs of the mistaken did not cease with their deaths.

After being disarmed with ease, the last Gamorrean standing was hewn with Ferrigo's dark-saber from the top of his skull to mid-chest. As he deactivated the dark-saber blade, Prosstang somersaulted over the shuddering porcine humanoid toward his recalcitrant client. Only the Weequay and Anurgga the Hutt remained. In the darkness.

After catching a series of deep breaths, Ferrigo reactivated the dark-saber blade and stated evenly after activating his vocal emitter to amplified. "It's just us three."

The Hutt roared and raised his right hand. "Noah!! Murishani goo!! Gankees!!"

Ferrigo took a deep breath. Suddenly, he heard and then saw several counts, and then scores of small, heavily-armored humanoid shapes pouring from around stacks of crates near the Hutt and his Weequay guard. These beings were little more than a meter-and-a half tall, their oblong spheroid helmets indicating an irregular head shape. Young Prosstang sensed a great deal of anger coming his way. More blaster fire erupted from the short blaster rifles of these humanoids. In clusters, the bolts of red energy zipped around young Prosstang as he quickly assessed his HUD display, shifted and dodged.

Ganks.

With as much speed as he could muster, he squatted slightly, deactivated and holstered the dark-saber in its shoulder scabard. Fluidly, Ferrigo pulled out a soft, hand sized packet from his left pant cargo pocket, and a round anti-personnel grenade from his right pant cargo pocket pushing the button firmly. He skimmed the packet across the smooth floor toward the charging blob of warm forms that glowed in his HUD, and lobbed the sphere with rapidly blinking red lights toward the front of the approaching horde.

''Must be 50 of these di'kute. Jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Oya manda!''

As the grenade exploded with high piercing crack, a tight flash of light and many streaks of molten metal and unseen shards of tempered durasteel punctured and lacerated uncounted Ganks. He sucked in some air and drew both of his PSAM-Taddie pistols with spinning flourishes. A show of mastery. Or ''Jaster's Legacy. Just like old times, Jango.''

"Oya manda!!" Ferrigo began to dance in backpedal fashion, each weapon firing ion and blaster blasts rapidly between the span of his arms toward the closing wave.

Many of the small humanoids fell with loss of limb, heavy concussion or disintegration. But their numbers were great. Ferrigo considered the path to his rear in the upper right corner of his HUD display. The thermal signatures of all of the life forms to his rear were cooling. Unmoving. Dying. Firing his Taddies as quickly as he could, he continued his backward jig, crossing his feet rapidly on his retreat until his pistols stopped firing.

Fierfek!

He sensed that the host of these small, angry beings were entirely flushed out from the crates at the far side of the warehouse. Where Anurgga and his last guard were making their retreat.

Ferrigo spun his PSAM blasters into their holsters, activated his jetpack, and chirped several commands into his vocal receptor. As the young Mandalorian rose from the floor and quickly thrusted forward, he shrugged his shoulders and dodged several red hyphens of plasma energy from the wild horde below. He flew in the dark, a distance of six meters from the warehouse floor. As Prosstang circled the attackers, he extended the index and middle fingers of his right hand ahead of his torso and unleashed a flurry of yellow blaster bolts from his gauntlet. Each blast tore through one or more targets. One of the Ganks braced his rifle and fired.

A solid hit on Ferrigo's solar plexus during his curling clockwise turn sent him backward for a moment.

"Tracinya!" Ferrigo clenched his right fist downward as he flew toward a cluster of five blaster-firing enemies including the accurate marksman in the group. A long rope of liquid flame slapped and spread on the floor around them. His roughly clockwise oval flight path curled around all of the humanoids he could register from thermal vision. Prosstang continued to release flame and fuel onto the floor below for three widening passes. The packet he had skimmed as a calling card to the Ganks before engaging them finally caught fire. The flames roared. Several blaster bolts hit Ferrigo's beskar armor plates. He felt heat and pain in his right ankle and thigh.

Still beskar threading in the flight suit, di'kute.

The young Prosstang guided his flight to where he could still see Anurgga and the Weequay. Cutting the jetpack power after crossing the crest of the last stack of crates, he somersaulted and landed squarely only three strides from Anurgga's right side. Through a clearing between the crate stacks, the flames and smoke could be seen around the screaming and braying of immolated ganks. A bright, blue-green explosion shuddered Anurgga and the Weequay.

"Be'senaar." Ferrigo turned his body to face the blaze, his visor's gaze fixed on Anurgga and his guard. Their fearful visages were lit by the dancing and now sparkling orange, blue and green fire glow. The Mandalorian returned his gaze to the scintillating flames and the still-burning life forms now coated by a blue-green foam.

Ferrigo tapped two buttons on his right gauntlet, folded himself forward at the waist with his helmet pointing slightly toward the floor thirty meters ahead. "Tra'cyar." A sharp crack accompanied by a puff of smoke and a sizzling trail of sparks and hissing flame emitted from the top of Ferrigo's jetpack. The missile was set loose into the floor amid the burning, foamy chaos at the center of the warehouse.

The explosion less than a count later rocked the foundation and caused some of the nearby crates to fall to the floor in flames. The intensified shrieks of agony among the destroyed Ganks lasted only a split of one count, as rags, bones, scraps and flaps of debris pulsed away from the blast. Ferrigo gazed at Anurgga and removed his dark-saber from his shoulder holster. Its activation and whistling hum barely heard above the crackling flames. But the purple glow clearly captivated the Hutt and Weequay.

"Waaaaaaahhhhh." The Hutt could not move.

The Weequay cowered.

Ferrigo took two steps toward Anurgga, raising his blade. Make it hurt.

"Ateema, Anurgga. Two million Republic credits up front. A luxury apartment in the Corellian Sector. A smaller warehouse in this district to operate out of," Ferrigo continued drily. "One hundred thousand credits per week pay, in a holding account in the name of your Weequay friend here as the new owner of a distributing business located in the Undercity." Prosstang pointed at Anurgga. "Three slave girls for my personal entertainment. I will choose first from your stock, then from the local slave market. New slave girls to refresh my appetite. Your account."

Anurgga garbled in Huttese thickly and in a heated tone. The Weequay spoke up with animated hand gestures. "Ehhh. And Mandalorian, how exactly do you expect Lord Anurgga to pay for all of these...demands? Hmm?"

Ferrigo eyed a few ganks crawling from the blaze, flame and smoke curling off of their melted armor. "I'll also need a new astromech, and a late model Cybot Galactica protocol droid."

The Hutt gagged and growled. Speechless. Good.

"You have a new enforcer and chief bodyguard, Mighty Anurgga of House Besadii. The name is Velrrus. Schingo Velrrus of Clan Prosstang," Ferrigo walked over to the blaze and ended the lives of the suffering with flourishing sweeps of his dark-saber. His visor returned its gaze on Anurgga. "Your Weequay will have to handle clean-up."

Getting Made in Nar Shaddaa's Corellian Sector with a Shopping Spree (50 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''   “I have dreams. But I don’t remember a thing. I just wake up…feeling hungry. Ravenous.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Hungry? For what, my Schingo?”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“You. And Raalee. Bekkah. All of you. I…don’t know what I’m doing.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“You’re wondering if you can love all of us?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“That’s just it, Aallys. I’m afraid I don’t. And these dreams…I’m afraid of them too. But I know that I want to be close with you. And the others. I feel like I’m asking for too much. And not getting enough. Though any sane being would be more than satisfied to have you alone.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Don’t worry, my love. You are making us very happy. With everything you do with us. I know that I’m safer in your arms here than I ever was at Anurgga’s palace. Raalee and Bekkah feel the same. They’re young, like you, but I think they understand what a wonderful, caring, and dangerous young man you are.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Redar ‘Schingo’ Velrrus shares pillow talk with one of his slave concubines in his Corellian Sector apartment on Nar Shaddaa, in 50 BBY.

It had taken several weeks, but Ferrigo's new Corellian Sector luxury apartment was fully appointed with works of fine art and furniture of excellent craftsmanship and materials from around the galaxy. Stylish and comfortable. Appliances were of the latest technology. Most of the furnishings had been selected with the consultation of his three very attractive female companions; slaves in name only.

The light-pale blue Twi'lek, Aallyss'anada, or Aallys, was rather voluptuous and mature. At least twenty years older than Ferrigo. She had a few tattoos near her navel marking her as property of Anurgga. In her special ways, she made Ferrigo very happy to have chosen her from the Hutt's collection of entertainers. She was physically beautiful and showed Ferrigo much tenderness in her loving techniques. He had learned many things by trial with Kenna Luxara and her friends, but Aallys provided him with expert lessons in loving. And amazing things only a Twi'lek lover with many years of courtesan experience could share.

Raaleena'warlaan was a younger, bright green-skinned Twi'lek who Ferrigo chose from one of Nar Shaddaa's many slave markets. He had done his research in finding her. He also asked for Aallys to help in the selection. He sought a female with noble blood lines and ties to Ryloth. And she was beautiful. A year younger than Ferrigo, Raalee was demure, gentle and inexperienced as an entertainer or consort. Ferrigo and Aallys in many ways shared in the deflowering of Raalee, and built a strong mutual trust with the young Twi'lek and each other.

Within a week of having the two Twi'leks together with him, they went as a group to select a third slave to join their household. Ferrigo requested, and Aallys and Raalee complied in selecting a petite, small-statured pink-skinned Zeltron female with long, light pink hair. Bekkah was around Ferrigo's age. Bekkah learned the basics of what Ferrigo liked and what he enjoyed doing with her. She wondered aloud the next morning, alone in bed with her master as Aallys and Raalee were in separate quarters, who was in fact the master. She smiled and kissed Ferrigo over and over before rousing him again to another passionate coupling. She wasn't the same as Kenna, but Ferrigo did shed a few tears his first few times with the beautiful, tiny Zeltron.

A few days after Bekkah's initiation and training in serving Schingo Velrrus was fairly complete, the slave girls and Ferrigo went to an exquisite skyspire restaurant for lunch before shopping at a droid merchant in the Duros Sector. They had set out to purchase a protocol droid, three servant droids and an astromech droid. Ferrigo wore his grey and red-trimmed beskar'gam. The girls had dressed in matching deep burgundy gowns of expensive fine durasilk fabric that revealed their decolletage and lower backs. Although he had his mind set on a Cybot Galacticamodel protocol droid, Ferrigo found himself drawn to a [http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Serv-O-Droid,_Inc. Serv-o-Droid, Inc.] CZ-series communications/business droid. Similar to the one owned by Mokshok, the Swokes Swokes ambassador from Makem Te, except this model seemed sandblasted of any color. A textured grey metallic casing was all that remained. Its large ovular eyes angled down and inward to the center of its face, of which the lower half was separately constructed as if inset.

"Are sure you don't want to consider further our CG lines of protocol droids?" the rasping, breathy tone of the large, severe-looking Phindian salesman seemed to question Ferrigo's taste in quality droids. After pointing back toward the Cybot Galactica section, the narrow-faced simianoid salesman with large, bulging eyes sighed. His large right hand scratched along the considerable length of his skull as the knuckles of his equally large left hand scraped the showroom duracrete floor. "The models are much more technically advanced. Easier to repair. More languages. Functions."

Aallys encouraged Ferrigo in purchasing the CZ-model. "I like this one, ma Lorda. It will help you in business...and we can be sure that messages will get to you when we need your assistance at home, Schingo." The pale blue Twi'lek looked stunning in her gown. Her smile and what it promised for her master ensured that CZ-DV8 would become part of their household.

Bright green-skinned Raalee, perhaps due to her noble Twi'lek bearing, seemed to need to position herself as a favorite of her master, and offered her own opinion. "My Gracious and Most Skilled Lord Schingo, I believe you will in fact need a business-focused droid, as Aallyss'anada says. Maybe you would kindly consider for us, your humble, loyal and devoted servants, a shiny protocol droid assistant or two?" Aallys and Bekkah both seemed to mix frowns with smiles.

Ferrigo turned to gaze to all three of his lovely servants. Bekkah bit her lip. "Bekkah, anything to add?"

"My precious Lord, I wish you to be happy and provide us with your pleasure. As you will," a long pause from Bekkah before she finished. "I agree with Raalee. Your needs seem better met by the business-focused droid here. I sense you agree." The Zeltron looked at Ferrigo, as if she could see through his helmet.

"Your slaves, so bold," the Phindian rasped as he grasped his hands together. "Especially for Twi'leks and...a Zeltron."

"You would do well, salesman, to keep your tongue silent on my precious company. If any of them are offended by your words, this will be your last shift." Ferrigo, maintaining the orientation of his helmet's T-visor on the Phindian quickly and smoothly tapped a few buttons and switched momentarily to silent mode to issue verbal commands. Activating his HUD data and weapons systems. He scanned his lovers' faces for disapproval of the Phindian. "Do any of my consorts take offense at this salesman's words?"

"I meant NO offense!" the Phindian implored with his hands opened palms upward.

Aallys stepped close to Ferrigo's side. "Jee jeer Lorda. This salesman is not worth our trouble. Let's reserve the CZ-model and finish our shopping." Raalee and Bekkah agreed with slight nods.

"Then let's continue, shall we?" Ferrigo said with a faint air of derision, his apparent gaze focused on the salesman.

Aallys told the salesman to activate CZ-DV8, and she and the salesman both looked to the Mandalorian, who nodded.

The Phindian removed the restraining bolt from CZ-DV8's chest, and flicked the switch behind the neck of the droid. CZ-DV8 whirred, clicked and shifted into motion. The salesman busily tapped buttons on a datapad.

"Hello. I am Deevee-Eight, sentient-cybernetic commercial protocol droid," CZ-DV8 shuffled away from the display area. "And you are?"

"Schingo Velrrus." Ferrigo spoke clearly. "Your new owner and master."

"A real pleasure to meet and serve you, Master Schingo Velrrus."

Ferrigo's companions introduced themselves graciously to Deevee-Eight, and they began their search for household assistant droids. They selected a LEP servant droid to act as a butler, and an SE4 servant droid for culinary tasks. The Phindian busily tapped the buttons on his datapad with confirmation by Ferrigo of his desire to purchase. At last their search began for an astromech to assist in the repair and co-piloting of Ferrigo's spacecraft. As they neared the astromech section of the store, Deevee-Eight made a suggestion that Ferrigo and his companions select a particular conical headed R4 unit with scant remnant orange markings.

"We'll consider it, Deevee-Eight." Ferrigo said plainly.

After another half hour of shopping and testing the astromechs, Ferrigo turned to Aallys. "What do you think?"

"You're the pilot, babe. Seems like you might need to fix up any of the floor models here," Aallys caressed her hips. "You okay with that?"

Their new business protocol droid spoke up. "R4-W8 is a fine partner, and I might add he contains many navigation and piloting improvements. He is quite agreeable and adaptable."

Ferrigo turned to regard Deevee-Eight, then the Phindian. "Okay. Sobeck, is it? We'll take this chalky white and orange R4 unit."

"As you wish, Velrrus." The Phindian bowed gently, removing the datapad from his hip before tapping a series of buttons. "Your total. Fourteen thousand Republic credits."

Within ten minutes, the purchases were completed. The following ten minutes were spent orienting the droids properly to their new owner and his lovely entourage.

A Slithering Good Time and The Unannounced Visitor
One evening a week later, Ferrigo, Bekkah, Aallys and Raalee laid together on the rather large circular bed in the center of the master suite, damp and wet-streaked pillows and sheets tangled about them. Ferrigo had brought in and executed a bounty for Anurgga earlier in the day, and had showered, groomed and shaved cleanly only an hour before.

"Gaaahh..." Ferrigo groaned, and wiped his hair from his sweaty brow as he laid back while Aallys demonstrated a few techniques for Raalee and then Bekkah to follow in practice. "You three are making me very happy."

The Twi'lek women did not respond with words, but with gentle touches of their lekku to sensitive areas of his sweat-soaked muscular body. Bekkah used her hands, and kissed him often, whispering words of adoration. He could only close his eyes, grit his teeth, shake his head and utter feigned protests against the expert, loving torments visited on his straining physique by Aallys, Bekkah and Raalee.

By the first time the doorchimes announced the arrival of a guest, Ferrigo had taken command of the females and sampled each in various situations with great ardor, care and joy. Their responsiveness in kind was likely notable even to the waiting guest. Periodically, Deevee-Eight and Lennie, the LEP servant droid, entered the master suite and exited after announcing a waiting guest. Several minutes later, as the collapse of their loud, shouting and seething paroxysm of passion was complete, Ferrigo staggered from the round mattress and through the open doorway from the master suite into the entry foyer. He grabbed a towel from a solid wooden cabinet near the front door and wiped himself dry, still gasping for air.

"Come back," Aallys rolled from her hip to her stomach, the faint light accentuated the sheen of sweat on her pronounced curves of pale blue skin. "We're not done with lessons, Master Velrrus." Bekkah kissed Aallys and held Raalee with her left hand.

The glistening green beauty of Raalee was highlighted by her bright white teeth in a full smile. "Yes, Schingo. Come back, baby." For emphasis, Raalee bit her lower lip and used the insides of her wrists to hold and press together her bountiful endowments. Bekkah moved to kiss that which Raalee held for display, and caused the green Twi'lek female's smile to transform into a gasp.

Ferrigo's eyes flashed a smile, and he then shook his head in mock disgust and true disappointment. "We'll have to put it on hold," the young Mandalorian took a deep breath and grabbed his robe from Deevee-Eight, who stood next to the cabinet.

"Master Schingo. Are you aware we have many small serpents wandering about?" Deevee-Eight raised his hands as if to highlight a concern that seemed to be unheeded by his master.

Ignoring Deevee-Eight, Ferrigo pressed his left index finger to the entry comm. "Achuta."

"Schingo," an increasingly familiar, heavily-accented voice crackled to life through the comm speaker. "Open up for your goood friend. I can hear the plunder of the innocent in there, Velrrus. Or the once innocent." A cough. "Really, you should not be sooo rough with the Mighty Anurgga's favorite."

Ferrigo looked at his beautiful Twi'lek and Zeltron companions and smiled. They returned smiles and beckoning gestures with their hands and other features of their astonishing feminine forms. He waved them to close the master suite door. Lennie goose-stepped toward the master suite.

"Are you here for business? As in, you have my payment?" Ferrigo spoke, firmly pressing the comm button. "Or there's another job Anurgga needs me to do."

A momentary pause after Ferrigo released the button. "Schingo, you know I get impatient." The voice was dripping with irritation.

"You know to be thankful for the arrangement we have. You are a wealthy man." Lennie had closed the master suite door, and Ferrigo activated the entrance door button as the LEP droid returned.

The main door quickly slid open and the Weequay assistant entered the foyer. Wearing more stylish clothing of late, the olive green complected reptilian humanoid stroked the facial horns along his jawline. "I must confess. YOU, Schingo Velrrus, are a bright and powerful maaaan. An excellent, surprising ally."

"You're welcome, Ohnaka."

"Especially when you aren't sampling the boss' treasures," the Weequay spread his hands as he surveyed his surroundings. "You have...expensive tastes, Schingo."

"I made my bed, Hondo. I might not sleep in it much these days, but I am mando'karla. I am living life to the fullest."

The Weequay raised his open hands dramatically. "I can hear that, Schingo. So can this block of the Corellian Sector," Anurgga's assistant pinched the fingers of his right hand together. "You will need to earn your keep. Anurgga may have been bested. But his patience knows a limit."

Ferrigo scratched his scalp absently. "Got it."

Hondo looked around and then at Ferrigo, and for a moment during Ferrigo's distracted movements saw more than he had bargained for. "Ehhhh...do you need to get dressed...Schingo?" the Weequay turned his head away while he flicked the fingers of his extended hand toward Ferrigo. "I can wait until you have your decency about you."

"I'm not sure my clothes will provide the decency you hope for, Hondo." Ferrigo said in a wicked tone.

"I don't ask for much, Velrrus. And that is too much. We need to discuss business, specifically spice shipments." the Weequay made a brushing motion with his hand toward Ferrigo as he shook his head solemnly. "I will pretend, then Schingo. That I don't see a scary snake-like thing there. Waving at me. And taunting."

"Okay, I have some time. Let's go to the den."

"Aaahhhhh. A den of iniquity...I presume?" Ohnaka had a sardonic sense of humor that seemed sharp and unrelenting. Ferrigo had grown to like, if not fully trust the Weequay. "Hey, your...thing...it's winking at me. Again."

"Noah, pateesa Hondo," Ferrigo smiled and caught a glance of the young Bekkah dressed in one of his light silken robes as she entered the kitchen overlooking the den. "It's interested in his young and gorgeous handler over there."

"Ah, but of course," the Weequay turned to regard the small Zeltron female. "Can your 'handler' provide you with some containment, Schingo?"

"Yes, I can," Bekkah spoke up. "Schingo, sweetheart. We're keeping warm without you, but we're hoping you can wrap this up sooner rather than later. And it's my turn, baby. I want all of that," she smiled and slowly drew her hand through her light pink hair as she walked back toward the master suite.

Ferrigo saw Bekkah's face and smiled, then looked to Hondo Ohnaka. "I'll be with you all in less than fifteen minutes, Bekkah." His glance hardened at the Weequay with a nod.

"I meant clothing, young lady," the Weequay added. Bekkah continued as if she had not heard him.

Stepping Into The Spice Racket
"Okay then, down to business, and we shall cut to the quick." Ohnaka shook his fingers, then set his hands on the table as he sat down on one of the nearby natural leather hide sofas.

Ferrigo's young, Zeltron female slave gathered the tray of beverages and snacks for herself and the Twi'lek slave girls that Ku-Kee had made. Ku-Kee was the name the girls had given the SE4 culinary droid. Ferrigo sat down and shifted his glance to her until her departure to the master suite was complete. "Okay, Hondo. What's the deal?"

"Anurgga has a sizable share of the spice trade here on Nar Shaddaa," the Weequay opened his hands, and gestured with a pinch of his fingers and tilt of his head to finish. "But his ability to keep his shipments intact has been...shall we say...somewhat spotty?"

"How deep are you into this part of his operation?"

"Ohhh. Velrrus. You think I'm taking something from the top, don't you?" Ohnaka raised his eyes for a moment. "Tch tch tch. I'm almost offended by your thoughtful suggestion of my betraying Anurgga."

"I didn't say that at all, Hondo, but if your conscience is bothering you..."

"Conscience?" Ohnaka raised his voice and spread his hands wide, accompanied by a half-smile. "What are you talking about? I am a poor former slave boy who works for a Besadii Hutt on the most criminally-infested worlds in the galaxy. And that's when I'm not kidnapping the children of rich businessmen!" The Weequay laughed out loud, and puffed up his chest and shook his finger at Ferrigo. "You amuse me, Schingo Velrrus. Conscience."

"Well, Hondo. Are you in the operation or not?" Ferrigo stroked his hands downward along his legs. He watched and felt Gzzzsslllpp, a bright green schinga picai, crawl up his leg under his robe. A slight off-kilter smile arranged Ferrigo's lips.

"Yes, but of course, my inquisitive Mandalorian," Ohnaka ran his hand over the top of his leathery, horned head, and through his hair. "But I get my share fair and square. No cuts on the side."

"Do you have connections on the outside who might be interested in hitting spice shipments?" Ferrigo opened his hand. He felt Gzzzsslllpp move across his personal gifts and trimmings. His smile, he sensed, had become even more intriguing and implausible to his guest.

''Gzzzsslllpp, you need to move along with care my little friend. No harm will come to you.''

"I'm getting thirsty, Velrrus," the Weequay said with disinterest. "All this talking..."

"May I prepare a drink for our guest, and your Graciousness, Master?" Lennie said in a rounded, nasal, and high-pitched voice.

"No thanks, Lennie. I have it this time." Ferrigo stood up from the paired sofa and walked over to a cabinet near the kitchen, and with a push of an unseen button, panels shifted and hydraulics activated to present a selection of alcohols contained in artistically-crafted bottles. Ferrigo gasped and his eyes bulged as Gzzzsslllpp slid and then coiled around the nearest safe perch, his personal gift. The young Mandalorian's hands shook slightly as he gathered two glasses and cubed ice into each before pouring a medium-dark brown alcohol. Gzzzsslllpp squeezed and seemed to be tasting the air as Ferrigo walked over and handed one of the glasses to his Weequay guest. Ferrigo's eyebrows undulated as he regarded the cabinet and tried to look into his robe.

"Master? May I help you with something?" Lennie was very attentive. Not as attentive as Ferrigo's bright green schinga picai, however.

What are you doing, Gzzzsslllpp?

Ohnaka sniffed deeply. "The gooood stuff...ummm...Are you okay, Schingo?"

"MMmmyeah. Only the best Corellian whiskey." Ferrigo held up his glass and took a drink. "So," the young Mandalorian grinned, gasped slightly and adjusted his robe and sat back down on the sofa. "Do you have some decoys? We need someone to give competition to those who are raiding Anurgga's shipments." He relaxed as the serpent released his particular grip and slithered around his right hip and upward.

"Velrrus. What you are suggesting. Very devious," the Weequay smiled, sipped his whiskey and gently rotated his glass. "There is something more to this idea?"

"You run the counter-piracy operation. I handle security on the shipments," Ferrigo took a drink and set his drink down as he waved his open hand toward Ohnaka. "Except that your counter-piracy group operates like an independent piracy. A piracy that from time to time takes capital assets from our joint venture here in Nar Shaddaa's Undercity."

"I don't think Anurgga would approve," the Weequay seemed a little nervous. "Don't get me wrong. I am seeing beautiful things here, Schingo."

"I'm not getting you wrong," Ferrigo tightened his lips. "You want power. You want more independence. I want the same things." The small bright green serpent with a pointed snout and features about its head smoothly raced over Ferrigo's shoulder and down his left arm toward the table, startling his guest.

Ohnaka yelped and leapt off of the sofa, tripping over the caf table and falling on the floor. A larger red serpent, with similar features at a larger scale hissed softly as its head approached the Weequay. "And wealth. Don't forget that, Velrrus." he turned to Ferrigo and nodded. "I do like wealth. Can you or your handler...call off the wildlife patrols, Schingo?"

"Just a moment." Ferrigo lifted his left hand and touched his right shoulder with it. He chirped and inhaled through closed lips slowly as he looked at the bright green schinga. The small green serpent reached out and slithered slowly onto his right shoulder as Prosstang walked over to the three meter long red schinga whose forked tongue was almost tickling Hondo Ohnaka's face.

The young Mandalorian had developed a knack over the last year for handling the serpents he had been presented by the Dokes family of Makem Te. He had visited the Dokes once since the incident there, and continued to make contact by hologram once per month on average. He clicked his tongue four times and lowered his left hand toward the floor. The red schinga raised its head, smelled Ferrigo's hand and lifted itself to climb up and around Ferrigo's arm. The smaller schinga zipped up into the nest of Ferrigo's damp hair.

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "I propose that we tighten up Anurgga's losses by expanding the size of the operation and security. That's gonna come at an expense, but less than what he's losing now by not taking the right steps to protect his operation."

"Hey!" the Weequay objected, his free hand touching his chest as he finished another deep draw on his whiskey glass. "I run the operation, Velrrus. And...how can you function with all these...serpents...on you? You are like some kind of...carnival attraction now?"

"Very funny, Hondo. With a shipping concern, you haven't had the likes of me in your corner," the young Mandalorian took a deep breath after he finished the dregs of his glass, checking as he lifted his glass that he wasn't displacing, or displeasing one or the other of the schingas. "The operation as it is, through no fault of your own, is too provincial and easy to nail down. That is gonna change. If you want it to."

The Weequay cooed. "Oh, Schingo Velrrus, I doooo. But there is no way that Anurgga comes out the worse for this."

"Deal." Ferrigo shook Ohnaka's hand firmly.

Hondo looked toward the master suite entryway from the kitchen. Ferrigo turned at the same time to regard the noise they had both heard.

"I have important matters to handle, my friend. Good night." Ferrigo smiled and escorted a dubious, smiling Hondo Ohnaka through the front door before he returned to his female companions.

Ohnaka lifted a dismissive gesture with his left hand above his shoulder as he walked away. "Yes, sure. Be careful handling your snake with those girls, Schingo."

Later that night after the schingas were returned to their climate-controlled garden sanctuary, Ferrigo returned to his lovers. After being thoroughly exhausted by the beautiful slave consorts, Ferrigo slept deeply and dreamt. Of the gorgeous green eyed goddess with blonde hair. On Mandalore. But also other places.

-''The time to prepare has begun. Set the slaves free. Find them homes and endeavors to support themselves. And wisely place them where they will serve Mandalore well into the future. Be free of heart for now.-''

She smiled and faded.

Ferrigo woke with a smile. Seeing more of her pale blue flesh in the morning light, he rousted Aallys first. And made love with her quietly. Then in turn, as Raalee and Bekkah woke, he made love with each of them, tenderly. Later, they shared a sensual, passionate afternoon together, with food and drink on tables arrayed at the perimeter of the circular bed. The hands and mouths of the beautiful Twi'lek and Zeltron women massaged, fed and lovingly grasped their young master as if he was an imperious ruler of ancient times. As sure as he brought them each to ecstasy in their turn with his desires and gifts, they brought him, and each other to and beyond the threshhold of self-containment. They were ravenous in handling the feast of their beloved Master, Schingo Velrrus.

Anurgga's Bane: The End of Ven Koon (49 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“I’m going to find your son. He will be mine.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“My son is dead, as I’ve told you. Almost three years, now. You mock his memory.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“And you talk in your sleep, darling.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“You are a terrible person. If anything happened, it was out of weakness.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">''“Your grandchildren will not be weak. Not with Dehet blood in them.”''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“You disgust me.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in">“I…own…you.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in"> – Ghetta Dehet, former warrior trained by Jaster Mereel, talks to her clan chieftain, Q’osstigo Prosstang, of her intentions to find and marry his son, in 49 BBY.

The Assignment Given
"Ta sleemo Jeedai Ven Koon," Anurgga growled.

Ferrigo's assignments up to this point had been fairly easy to resolve. The double crosses a Hutt of Anurgga's standing suffered were legion. He was powerful on Nar Shaddaa, but Gardulla was far superior within the Besadii Kajidi. Anurgga's detractors and the traitors who stepped far beyond adding insult to injury on the Hutt were generally no match for Ferrigo. His keen intelligence, cleverness, skills in combat and tracking. His record and reputation for success and ruthless efficiency grew.

In the first year alone, 'pawa ko Schingo,' or powerful Schingo brought twenty-seven bounties before Anurgga for punishment. A few, like Varobb Dehb, were executed for show. Ferrigo generally executed his bounties as painlessly as he could. As Anurgga seemed to be distractedly entertained by a Twi'lek dancer, Ferrigo's thoughts momentarily drifted to his upbringing as a warrior and hunter.

Jaster Mereel had trained him in understanding the ways a man, or any sentient died, and the typical threshholds of pain for several species, short of death. Lessons learned. Under Mereel's direction, Ferrigo had become cognizant of his own pain threshholds, as he had suffered under elaborately practiced tortures as a young student. Montross had been particularly keen to demonstrate techniques of physical pain and coercion to the younger students, especially Ferrigo, Jango Fett and Silas.

From time to time when interrogating and even torturing bounties under the watchful eyes of Anurgga and sometimes Hondo Ohnaka, Ferrigo recalled Mereel's words. ''Ner ad'ike. You will know yourself better than your most loathed enemy. You must. For under pain of torture, you may become your own worst enemy. Betraying your vode. That must not happen.''

He had a difficult time with each of these efforts. Causing pain was something that Mereel had once told him would at times be a needful thing. Ferrigo could see Jaster Mereel's dark brown eyes, his slightly-wrinkled gaze like a predatory avian as he had scanned the faces of the young warriors-in-training. ''Ad'ike. You must be prepared to set blade, tweezers, poison, pick or water to your enemies to break their wills. But make no mistake. YOU are the instrument of fear. To protect Mandalore. To protect your comrades. To protect your family, your clan. And to serve your Mand'alor. And serve him well. Dismissed''.

As he stood casually under the late morning rays of pollution- and transparasteel window-filtered light from the primary in his full suit of grey and red-trimmed beskar'gam, he shifted his weight and looked at Anurgga on his dais without moving the apparent position of his helmet's T-visor. Two of his small schinga picai curled around him. A deep purple serpent he named Brrrrvvlll curled around his right leg and the bright green one named Gzzzsslllpp moved about his shoulders. HIs personal protocol droid, CZ-DV8, whose dull grey metallic coverings were trimmed with purple and gold paint, stood at his side. Ferrigo felt physically fit and ready. As part of his daily regimen, the young Mandalorian had spent that morning's first hour in strenuous physical exercise in the mirrored fitness suite of his Corellian Sector apartment.

His seven beautiful slave consorts had watched in the nude that morning, as they were wont to do. He had similarly been without attire as was his normal practice. ''Proud of your body. Proud of your blood. Proud of your blade. You are Clan Prosstang.'' His sweat had been profuse as usual, and damp towels had been strewn about the equipment, as he lifted weights to maintain and strenghen the power and flexibility of his arms, legs and core muscles.

Periodically, he allowed one, two or three of his excited lovers to soak up his sweat with their hungry kisses and caressing hands. Today, Aallys was among them, but Raalee and Bekkah were now gone. Dendanna Saruda, a very attractive and shapely deep blue-skinned Rutian Twi'lek female and Baralla, a tall, slender, light purple-skinned Sephi female joined the older, more expert pale blue Twi'lek female near the shoulder strength exercise machine where Ferrigo had braced himself. The care of the females had become a mirrored spectacle of debauchery with their brief and loving feeding on the rippling muscles and the shaped, abbreviated follicles and gifts of their young Mandalorian stallion. Once they had been satisfied that his surrendered tributaries, dumbfounded looks and the praiseful words and noises were spent, they had toweled him dry and let him resume his fitness regimen.

Ferrigo snapped to attention from his reverie as Anurgga barked and growled at him. "Vaylahroosa!"

"Mwa Lorda Anurgga," Ferrigo had clucked inside his helmet and set his enunciator to full volume. "Dobra moosta ta jokweepoo. K'wanna nyee-ee." Ferrigo hoped that he would get five team members, and that they would all be competent.

"Eniki," the Hutt growled and pointed at Ferrigo. "Jee oto ta Jeedai killya." A light tan Twi'lek female, scantily clad, emerged from behind Anurgga to continue her massaging of the Hutt.

"Tagwa ma Lorda." Ferrigo nodded and turned to leave. "Jee no dooki ee, Anurgga." He would get his team.

The Hutt raised his right arm and slowly shook an extended his finger at Ferrigo. "U mo no gootu Vaylahroosa, u mo no gootu."

I told you, I won't fail.

Shelter From The Storm Takes Shape
Later that afternoon Ferrigo, still in his full beskar'gam, stood alone with Deevee-Eight in one of the upper level cable-hung gondola offices at the former Pappy Jack's Gorg-o-licious Goods warehouse overlooking the storage area. With some of his own funds earned in the last year, Ferrigo had purchased the property from Anurgga and made several repairs and renovations to the warehouse. The electrical system had been overhauled, entirely dependent on several new on-site power generators. Damage to the structural columns, rafters, floor and ceiling had been fully repaired. Exterior and interior security systems had been fully updated. A communications antenna array with exceptionally strong signal capacity was emplaced. Communications with Core Worlds was possible. The presence of Deevee-Eight made crisp and clear signal contact with the lower levels of Coruscant probable; even from the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa.

Processing food and bait once again filled nearly one third of the interior space with large vats, smaller containers and a variety of aerial conveyance tubes for pickled gorgs and other foods deemed appetizing to Hutts, Swokes Swokes, and others. Snapping Schinga Delicacies, Inc. was open for business. Ferrigo had even convinced the Dokes family and Mokshok, the Ambassador of Makem Te to join as partners. Several Dokes, and other Swokes Swokes investors were ostensibly the company leaders, and Ferrigo, as Schingo Velrrus, was the chief operating officer.

A few Swokes Swokes employees had also been hand-picked by Ferrigo in consultation with the Dokes and Mokshok. Below Ferrigo's gaze, they walked the production floor menacingly, as a few purple and gold painted SE4 service droids performed quality control tests from grated semi-circular platforms near the lidded vats of marinating gorgs. The pungent odor of gorgs were off-putting to most sentients, so Ferrigo had decided to use Swokes Swokes and droid labor for this operation. Several small DUM-series droids, normally designed for vehicular repair, had been retro-fitted and programmed to maintain and repair systems at the factory and warehouse. Ferrigo wore his helmet with its seal activated when visiting the facility.

He gazed at two of the DUM-series droids, painted purple with gold trim, walking briskly together between rows of vats.

"Master Velrrus," Deevee-Eight broke the long silence. "Shall I ring Melaa Kuporr again, and patch her through should she respond?"

"No. Not yet." Ferrigo regarded his business protocol droid. DV8 had proven himself far more valuable than expected at the time of his purchase. Using some of what he had learned from Jaster Mereel, Silas and a few of the technicians employed by Prosstang Industries, he had made a few modifications to the CZ-model droid. Mods that enabled several incredibly useful functions. Remote hyperspeed decryption of most building, facility, surveillance tech and vehicle security codes. The scrambling of wireless communications transmissions within a two kilometer sphere. And the ability for Ferrigo to override Deevee-Eight's central processor for certain non-motor functions. This last functional mod enabled Ferrigo to receive Deevee-Eight's visual and audio inputs, and to use the droid's voice emitter. "Deevee-Eight. I want you to check the area surveillance and utilities status in the subdistrict. Upload  the surveillance feeds into my HUD when you break the codes. Then, schedule check-ins with the assistants of Raaleena Warlan and Bekkah Tettix for later this week."

"Yes, my Lord," Deevee-Eight said with a soft metallic throttled sound.

To begin the expansion and consolidation of his newly founded business portfolio in secret, Ferrigo had begun to implement a plan to buy more female slaves for the purpose of bonding with them in order to create an informal and loyal network. A network of lovers and former lovers to distribute illicit goods under a legitimate cover. Most importantly, these loyal lovers would share intelligence with Ferrigo from around the Outer Rim. This plan followed only a few months after his last vision of manda.

In the previous month he had set up Raalee on Tatooine as a jewelry appraiser's assistant, and a small tract of land had been purchased for Bekkah on Saleucami to raise and harvest a variety of food crops, fungii and spices. Ferrigo gave Raalee and Bekkah each a custom modified DUM-series droid that operated only on the confirmation of the identity of its owner. In fact, the owner had to look into the visual receptor of the droid for an optical scan. Modifications to the droid memory packs enabled improved communications reliability and the translation of several thousand languages. The DUM droids were also linked directly to the on-board communications system of Deevee-Eight. The DUM droids could be slaved to Deevee-Eight's systems on Ferrigo's command. Conversely, Ferrigo could enable each DUM droid to download certain unclassified data from Deevee-Eight on request by each DUM droid providing an authorization code that he had provided to the owner.

His mind, emerging from operational details, fell into the emotional pool that he had been trying to avoid. The connections he felt to the beautiful, intelligent and noble green beauty of Raaleena'warlaan, and the young, impressionable, clever and adorable pink little Bekkah. He had made love with both of them dearly in their new arrangements, and they had each smiled and shed tears with him as he departed. He had promised he would help them, providing credits as needed and remaining in regular contact through the DUM droids. Part of him wanted to be more to each of them, especially after Raalee and Bekkah told him that they carried fruit of his seed.

A Call for Trusted Aid
His desk communication console chimed. He had contacted Melaa Kuporr to ask for her guidance, and possibly assistance. It had been over a year since he spoke with anyone of his clan, or associated with Prosstang Industries. Ferrigo turned on his heel and moved around his desk to sit down in the executive chair. He tapped a large green button. Melaa Kuporr, in lined blue-grey hologram form, appeared slightly above a small dish at the center of the desk. "Yes, Ferrigo?" Melaa Kuporr's image raised and opened her right hand in a questioning gesture, her left forearm tucked under her chest.

"Schingo. Only Schingo," Ferrigo said firmly after shaking his head slightly. "I need your..."

"Guidance." Melaa's image looked directly at Ferrigo.

"Yes," Ferrigo's steepled fingers separated for a moment. "You can keep a secret between us?"

Melaa's form looked around her location. "Yes, you know I can."

"Melaa, I am establishing a network of operatives entirely separate from my current employer and Prosstang Industries."

"Your father is...upset about your extended absence. Are you sure it's wise, being so young, to get up to your neck in trouble, Fe-...Schingo?"

Ferrigo gently pointed his right index finger toward Melaa's three-dimensional light image. "I'm talking to you, aren't I?" he waited a moment in silence. "I need help. Manpower. From our clan. Men or women. Verde. You can trust them to keep quiet. I will trust them to keep things hidden."

"What in the Kad Ha'rangir are you talking about, Schingo?" Melaa's hands, palms up, shook for emphasis.

Deevee-Eight turned slightly to regard Ferrigo as the Mandalorian paced the office end to end. "Master Schingo. I do believe we have visitors approaching. They are not members of the Snapping Schinga Delicacies board of directors."

"Look, Melaa, I don't have a lot of time. I have a meeting here in about ten minutes," Ferrigo shifted his head slightly. "I need you to recruit five of our clansmen to help me expand and maintain this network. Be my eyes and ears."

Melaa Kuporr seemed to take a deep breath. "What things are you hiding? Where are you? Any specifics?"

"No, I'll handle that when the time comes. I need clansmen who can keep secrets, and keep quiet. No details until I can meet these recruits in person," Ferrigo folded his hands together. "They will be paid well."

"Master Velrrus," the protocol droid spoke with urgency. "The visitors. They are armed."

"Armed visitors?" Melaa tilted her head and winced slightly. "Ehhh. Schingo. Do you need an evac...again?"

"Funny, Kuporr."

Melaa's holoimage smiled. "Seriously. If you're in the Outer Rim, I can be there in less than 36 hours. Your father has a prototype personal craft he's had his engineers working on with the gearheads over at MandalMotors. Word is he wants to test it."

"I wouldn't trust you to back my landspeeder out of the garage." Ferrigo teased.

"Funny, Velrrus. You could show a little more gratitude than attitude, you know."

Ferrigo slowly pulled his hands apart and gripped them into fists. "I thank YOU for your time, Kuporr."

"I think you should know..." the image of Melaa brushed her chest with her fingertips. "You are being tracked. A large bounty awaits."

"Really?" Ferrigo tapped the yellow button on his desk console, and hit the green button of a lower row, switching his channel to direct communication with Deevee-Eight.

"Deevee-Eight, I need you to locate the signal of this holo transmission, and step up on the surveiilance. I want scans done on every visitor here. All electronics devices. Removed. Inspected. And have their memory devices scanned."

"Yes, my Lord." the protocol droid touched a socket in the wall, apparently designed for him to connect.

"You seem distracted, Schingo." Kuporr sounded concerned. "Are you in trouble?"

Ferrigo gazed at myriad data scrolling in the left side of his HUD as images of a few shady and or sturdy faced beings showed to the right side. He tapped several buttons bringing his input back to the holo transmission. "Not yet, but it appears you have been withholding some critical information from me, Melaa." Ferrigo ended the hologram transmission with a press of a button.

The Team Gathers
"Sir, it appears that there are five armed beings approaching the complex," Deevee-Eight said with an air of warning. "They seem to be keeping distance from one another."

"I'm reviewing the footage and associated data, Deevee-Eight. Thanks." Ferrigo rose from his chair, quickly checking his PSAM-Taddie Pistols for charge levels and then his gauntlet weapons systems as he walked slowly around the desk toward the office door. "Deevee-Eight, jam all transmissions at all frequencies within your maximum capability."

"Yes, Master Schingo," the protocol droid moved its stiff legs as quickly as possible to follow Ferrigo.

Ferrigo emerged onto the catwalk hung from durasteel cables, walking quickly to the staircase. His HUD continued to display data about his visitors as he rushed down the stairs. His weapons systems status confirmed the hours he spent earlier in the day on upkeep of his gear were productive. Ferrigo slowly entered a large holding room to the side of the warehouse opposite from the repulsorlift elevator and stairway to the hanging gondola office level. His gauntlets were armed and ready. The team assembled in a lineup.

"Bantzch Kerogold," Ferrigo said plainly. "The Terrelian Terror. You're wanted in six systems for murders. Countless murders. Mostly by blades, some by blasters."

The slight-framed but tall, pale aqua blue-skinned near-human male nodded as the Mandalorian passed. He wore a dark brown vest, light colored and tight fitting stretch fabric pants, and had dark blue tattoos covering his arms. "And you're Schingo Velrrus. Known for taking down easy marks."

With lightning speed and without a word, Ferrigo raised his right gauntlet with index and middle finger extended toward the male Terrelian, and pinched the remainder of his fingers into his palm. A quick, loud and abbreviated whining zip accompanied a brief flash of yellow light. Bantzch Kerogold fell backward until his aerated skull, slack shoulders and holstered pistol grips slapped and clattered on the duracrete. The Terrelian's lean muscles jerked and spasmed. "Like that, Kerogold? Any other mir'shebs? Anyone else need a demonstration of authority?" Ferrigo continued to pace along the lineup.

"Mah-dze'ter Neets'yuel," Ferrigo announced as he slowed before a small-statured Bothan who wore fine, but over-worn garments under an assortment of straps and small pouches and satchels. "Expert in breaking and entering, burglaries and infiltration, as well as intelligence collection."

The Bothan began to speak. Ferrigo raised his right index finger. "Think carefully before you speak." The Bothan seemed to consider his options, and remained silent as the grey armored Mandalorian continued his stroll.

"Let's see. Noonoh Weegan," Ferrigo regarded the tall, hulking Togorian in front of him. "Your information...is incomplete. I will need you to step outside for a few minutes. I will have a droid come and collect you when we're done with the briefing."

The Togorian growled in a low voice. "I here work," a flash of his teeth. "Not wait round."

"You'll do as you're told. If your information checks out with Anurgga, I'll provide you with a full briefing. Separately."

The large feline humanoid, whose fur featured a brindle of grey and brown fur with black stripes, rubbed his head with his right paw. After he glared at Ferrigo, directly into his dark T-visor, the Togorian named Noohoh walked out the doorway to a separate temporary storage room, that had served as a location for special orders.

"Next. Yeq'ala Utta," Ferrigo looked the red Nikto female up and down. She was shapely, and well equipped with weaponry, including a long barreled blaster rifle. "Good to have you on board."

The Nikto female nodded her head.

The young Mandalorian approached the last candidate of the team, a tall grey and black striped Trandoshan. The Trandoshan spoke first with a hiss. "Xosssssssssk."

"The Wraith of Boz Pity," Ferrigo added.

"YESsssss," the Trandoshan seethed. "And the only one here you can depend on to kill the Jedi."

"We'll see about that. We'll see." Ferrigo looked over the whole group, as Deevee-Eight stood in waiting, silently processing and communicating data. Internal to the system Ferrigo had set up, externally attempting to crack into the Prosstang Industries system and connect and confirm with Anurgga's system the identities of all team members.

"I'm Schingo Velrrus. Your boss on this job. You answer to me alone. Your accounts have all been credited ten percent of your share of the fee. If you have no further questions, we can proceed with the briefing. Upstairs. Follow me."

Deevee-Eight turned and walked gingerly to Ferrigo. Inside his helmet, he received a short briefing from his protocol droid. The Mandalorian nodded, as he regarded the group again, minus the Togorian and the deceased Terellian. Four DUM-droids lifted the thin corpse and carried it toward another enclosed chamber that appeared to have refrigeration units attached to the top and pipes connecting into the foundation and across the production floor.

"Where's he going?" Yeq'ala Utta asked.

"Filler." Xossk responded with a flap of his forked tongue.

The Bothan and Nikto tried not to express their nervousness. But Ferrigo sensed it. And the Trandoshan seemed to enjoy it. Ferrigo said nothing. The protocol droid walked over to the room where it was assumed the Togorian waited.

The Initial Briefing
Five minutes later, the group sat around a large circular conference table in a separate office upstairs from the production floor. Two doors further along the gantry walkway from Ferrigo's office.

"So, you all know generally why you're here," Ferrigo pressed a button on the lectern he stood behind. A holographic image of the Jedi, Ven Koon shimmered into view. "Ven Koon. Kel Dorian Master Jedi. An investigator. Local theater of operations: Nar Shaddaa. A thorn in the side of Lord Anurgga. He is to be taken out of the game."

"With extreme prejudissssssss?" Xossk hissed with expectant hope.

"We're professionals. We're not looking to start an inquisition from the Jedi Temple in Coruscant. Our job is to send a subtle message that someone other than Anurgga is responsible for our target's concerns and findings."

"What do you mean? the Nikto seemed mystified.

"I understand," the Bothan, Mah-dze'ter Neets'yuel smiled. "I will be tasked with investigating the investigator."

Ferrigo nodded. "You are correct. And you will also be tasked with amending the information the Jedi has found."

"A pure wipe?" Neets'yuel's eyebrow raised. "I would think not."

"No," the Mandalorian confirmed. "We don't want the Jedi to think someone's done a cut and paste job with Master Koon's reports. But we will need to...color them differently."

The Trandoshan sprawled his claws out widely and retracted them as if bored, before leaning forward with a burst of speed and irritation. "Can't we just find this Jedi, kill him and be done with it?"

"And leave loose ends?" Utta retorted. "I assume I am surplus unless we have more than one target. Just bulling ahead will only ensure that a swift response will come down on us."

"Thanks, Utta." Ferrigo turned to her, then regarded the Xossk and Neets'yuel. "Xossk, you will be close quarters to secure the hard merchandise. And if needed, you will be responsible for securing any additional merchandise. We're not going wet until we need to, and I will decide when that is. For the prime package, or any associated parcels. We'll need to make sure the finishing has a certain appeal." The Trandoshan's tongue slithered and a low guttural trill emitted across the room. "You want me to take the fall..."

"No, that would be the employer you're listed as working for," Ferrigo explained with a wave of his hand.

"You?!" the Trandoshan hissed and chortled. "Anurgga?!"

Ferrigo was silent for seven counts. Aside from the Trandoshan's guttural noises, the room was quiet. The Mandalorian pressed another button. The holo image of a large Hutt recognizable as the notorious Gardulla replaced the Kel Dorian Jedi Master above the display dish. "Gardulla the Hutt."

"Is that wise?" the Bothan and Nikto said in concert, and then looked at each other. Neets'yuel continued. "Gardulla is the head of the Besadii Clan. And though we work for Anurgga, I doubt we would want to upset the leader of his clan."

"I don't care," Xossk growled. "I just want to get paid for killing some Jedi."

"In due time. All of you will get paid for following my directions. No more questions asked." Ferrigo regarded the group. Within his sealed helmet, he was frequently clicking and clucking his tongue; changing comm channels. On a secure channel, Deevee-Eight had been apparently having a terse conversation with Noonoh Weegan, the Togorian. Ferrigo had been listening and speaking through his protocol droid.

The Loyal Togorian: For a Friend, For His Father
"Master Velrrus does not wish to disappoint, dear sir, but there is no information confirming your identity as Noonoh Weegan. Weegan, according to our records, is a Gamorrean." Deevee-Eight bowed and jerked slightly with hand and arm motions.

"Tell Velrrus that he is in danger," the Togorian scowled. "His father sends his regards."

"I don't believe Master Velrrus has a father. Not one he's spoken of." The protocol droid shuffled toward the door, and it slid open with minimal friction. "Respectfully I must ask you to depart the premises."

The Togorian grabbed the droid and shook violently. "He knows who I am. I am his friend! He will speak to me!"

Deevee-Eight regained his footing once released from the grip of the large feline humanoid. "What is it, Master Sooleess? Schingo Velrrus will not return to Mandalore."

"I've volunteered to bring him back. And that's exactly what I'm going to do," the Togorian retreated slightly from the doorway.

"That is not likely. Master Velrrus has established himself in the service of Anurgga the Mighty here on Nar Shaddaa and beyond." The protocol droid was firm.

"He's going to get himself killed."

"That remains to be seen." Deevee-Eight said blandly. "Master Velrrus is quite capable. Many bounties. He is Anurgga the Hutt's prime bodyguard and enforcer."

Preniik Su'uleezs growled. "Xossk, the Trandoshan. He is young, and not to be trusted. Found out that he was responsible for the death of Lu'uk Ordo. And, the hit on Ferrigo Prosstang was made by Xossk's paymaster. Anurgga the Hutt."

"Ferrigo Prosstang?" the protocol droid queried. "I do not know of this person."

"Your Master Velrrus knew him well," Su'uleezs purred, folding his arms across his chest. "Like a brother. An indentical twin, even."

"The hit on Ferrigo Prosstang...was successful, was it not?" Deevee-Eight probed.

"Ask your Master why he believes Anurgga selected Xossk to be part of this team."

Deevee-Eight turned and activated the door to open again. "Master Velrrus has asked you to leave. Again, respectfully, I must ask you to leave."

The Togorian lifted his left wrist and muttered into his comm. He then broke into a run out of the storage room and into the production floor area between gorg pickling vats.

Better Late or Never
The conference room door slid open and the large Togorian entered. "Sorry I late."

Ferrigo turned to face the feline humanoid as the rest of the gathered team gazed at the doorway. "Have a seat, Weegan." After the Togorian sat down, the Mandalorian continued. "This job will take around a month. The payoff will be well worth your time. But we have to do this according to my plan. Everyone on board so far?"

Every one of the gathered beings nodded.

"First things first," Ferrigo began to pace the floor. "We need to observe the target. Utta, Neets, that's the both of you. Utta from distance. Establish environmental patterns around the target's comfort zone that we need to isolate. Or exploit. Neets, you'll need to get closer to the target. Work with Xossk. Identify any habits, tendencies, contacts and possible complications. Relay those to me."

"Weegan," Ferrigo turned his helmet across his left shoulder. "You'll need to get a job. With Gardulla the Hutt." Out of the corner of his eye, the Mandalorian noticed Xossk's tongue slithered repeatedly. "Your job, as you will propose, is to keep an eye on Xossk." The Trandoshan's tongue pulled into his mouth.

"Why would he do that?" Xossk sat up, alarmed.

"Because, Xossk," Ferrigo's hand casually regarded the reptilian humanoid. "You will be accepting a contracted bounty on Zavval Besadii." The holoprojector image changed to show a Hutt. "Weegan will also provide backup to Xossk when the hard merchandise gets wet, or Neets or Utta needs muscle or assistance in tracking."

"Sssounds complicated to meeee," the striped grey Trandoshan grumbled. "Who isss putting the bounty on thissss Zzzavval?"

"That's nothing you need to know right now." Ferrigo moved around the lectern and folded his arms, right gauntlet above left, and paced between the conference table and the thin transparasteel windows overlooking the production floor and warehouse.

The Nikto female spoke up. "What about you, Schingo Velrrus? What's your part in all this?"

"I'm the bait."

The Pieces in Place, The Pieces in Play
The good part of a month had passed. Mah-dze'ter Neets'yuel, or Neets, had gotten close enough to Jedi Master Ven Koon to observe his activities within a few days of the area assessment made by Yeq'ala Utta. Ferrigo had processed the information they had provided, and determined a strategy for entrapping the hard merchandise pieces. It had required that he himself lure and lead the Jedi Master on an elaborate chase laced with small revelations - false revelations.

But there was a complication. Koon had a Padawan. Liera, was a dark brown-skinned female Zabrak with long, black, braided hair. And she seemed to be a step ahead of Ferrigo's every move.

Ferrigo had led Liera out of the Industrial Food and Beverage Precinct of the Undercity, so near the Corellian Sector above, and into that sector to stop at a few shops that specialized in weapons and medicine. His HUD recorded everything on command that he thought he might need without thinking too much about his young Zabrak tracker. His path then took them both across a checkpoint into the Duros Sector.

Ferrigo quipped on the channel set for the full team. "Little fish is taking the bait." He clucked his tongue to change the channel. "Xossk...Neets..."

"Yesssssss?" the Trandoshan seethed.

"Yes, boss?" Neets'yuel sounded nervous.

"Big fish status." Ferrigo scanned his HUD as he continued to walk forward. No electronic comm signals to or from the Zabrak Padawan.

The Bothan spoke first. "Following you and the little fish. One block back."

Ferrigo clucked to another channel. "Weegan. You've dropped a few hints that Gardulla is looking for Zavval...and me?"

The Togorian purred. "Yesss. Strong hint. There hit on you. And it true."

Good, Ferrigo thought. "I will need you to come to the Club Tayana. A Balosar female will be at the cantina bar with me." The Mandalorian checked his HUD to see the Zabrak following him, with an orange halo surrounding her moving form. He then heard a double ping and a small holo image popped up in the upper right hand corner of his HUD. The Kel Dorian Jedi. Also wreathed in an orange glow. HIs path mimicked that of his Padawan.

Zavval will find it easy to set up shop here, Ferrigo thought. ''And Nina will help me score some points with him. We'll get a large shipment sent out tomorrow night. That Trandoshan won't get a scale fraction of the deal...''

The Zabrak Padawan casted glances about her, Ferrigo observed in his HUD. He turned sharply left past a seedy massage parlor called the Lucky Spacer, and many other less than savory businesses along the way. He picked up his pace, tapped a few buttons on his right gauntlet and soon crossed the threshold into Club Tayana.

The appearance of a Mandalorian shocktrooper raised the level of interest among a number of the visitors of the cantina, for a moment. The silence was brief, and the drone of overlapping voices resumed to fill the momentary void. Duro voices. And a few other species. Most spoke a Huttese dialect.

"Velrrus. Baby," a young, very attractive and scantily dressed Balosar female called to Ferrigo from the bar. She was very slight-statured, under one and a half meters. Ferrigo let his gloved left hand covet her revealed skin. Her antennapalps wiggled slightly. "I have good news."

"You know I want to repeat last night with you," through his audio emitter, he spoke evenly. "But I'm here on business for the moment. Still have a shipment going out tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, Schingo," the tiny Balosar winked, gripped his left holster, then whispered. "We're being watched."

Softly in response, his emitter rasped. "I know."

She looked up at his helmet, his dark, reflective and unresponsive T-visor. "Horned woman. Jedi maybe."

"Thanks, Nina. I'm going to give you a big kiss later. Maybe more."

"I hope so," she bit her lip and stared up at him with her head cocked to the right. "Alone? You and me?"

"Yes. Tonight, my sweet darling." Ferrigo said as he looked down at Nina Bar'jekida, one of his seven female slaves. She was very talented and clever. Her familiarity with the Nar Shaddaa spice trade, along with her exotic beauty informed his selection of her three months before from the nearby slave market.

"Your tiny delicacy," she bit her lip again.

"Get yourself to the apartment around the block. Keep your wits. You have the pistolette?" Ferrigo said in a low voice barely heard above the chatter and music in the club.

"Yes, Master. I have it." The Balosar dancer looked up at him.

"Be mindful of my training before you exit this place. Be ready to use that weapon if anyone crosses you. And be comforted knowing that I can track you if someone causes you trouble."

"I know," Nina said with concern in her eyes. "I love you, Schingo."

"Everything's going to be fine," Ferrigo said without emotion. "Ready a bottle of Felucian wine. Be wearing a smile. Nothing more."

With that, the diminutive, shapely Balosar smiled and walked to the exit.

Ferrigo watched as Preniik Su'uleezs approached him at the bar and drew a blaster pistol. "Hello, Velrrus. Order 'nother round. For the road."

"You're gonna do this, Weegan?" Ferrigo relaxed his hands to his sides.

"According to the plan." Su'uleezs purred. A few of the cantina patrons moved their stools or simply changed stools to move away from the Mandalorian and Togorian.

Ferrigo clucked in his helmet to speak on an unheard channel. "Little fish chasing Tiny Starlet. Big fish has joined the Club." Ferrigo looked past Su'uleezs to see that the masked Kel Dorian Jedi Master Ven Koon was now standing against the exit door wall, in place of the Zabrak Padawan. Ferrigo clucked again a number of times to activate his vocal emitter. "So, Gardulla is going to muscle in on Anurgga's territory?"

"No," the Togorian growled in a low tone. "This uncalled favor from Grand Leader Besadii Kajidic. You betray Anurgga. She be take care of you."

"Let's take this outside." Ferrigo said without a trace of fear at the felinoid, who was much larger than anyone else in the cantina.

"Fine." Su'uleezs grumbled, and followed Ferrigo.

"Takkie," Ferrigo called the bartender's name as he neared the exit. "Hold those drinks 'til I get back."

The Showdown: Sacrifice
After the Mandalorian and Togorian squared off a walk of five counts from the cantina entrance, Jedi Master Ven Koon appeared on the steps of the Club Tayana. "I'm bringing you in," the Jedi announced to the surprise of both Ferrigo and Su'uleezs. "For questioning."

Ferrigo clucked to the private channel for the full team. "The big fish is ready for wrapping." He clucked again until his vocal emitter was active. "You're in the wrong place, wrong time, Jedi."

Preniik Su'uleezs turned away from Ferrigo and leapt through the air toward the Jedi Master, who instantaneously produced a green blade of light and open-palmed hands. The Togorian seemed to be stopped in mid-air from the path of his jump toward the Kel Dorian, and even floated backward a short distance as he fell to the street.

Ferrigo, angled to the side away from Su'uleezs had a clear shot for the first half count before the Togorian jumped. He deftly raised and curled his left hand into a fist when his gauntlet was aimed true with Jedi Master Ven Koon. The crack of the dart firing echoed around the buildings. The Kel Dorian's green blade whipped with blinding speed in an arc. A large bolt of red energy entered the right shoulder of Koon and the green glowing blade was extinguished as the metallic cylinder fell to the steps below. A garbled gasp of pain issued from the filter mask of the Kel Dorian.

Ferrigo gasped as a burst of light yellow electricity showered over him, shorting his HUD and causing his audio receivers to screech and pop. Rangir! The young Mandalorian shrieked in agony and his arms and legs twitched with sharp pains and uncontrolled muscular trembles and flexes. He gazed quickly at his gauntlets as he bent over in pain and staggered toward the exterior wall of the cantina. They're toasted!

Ferrigo looked up to see the Kel Dorian Jedi Master's right hand extended outward, though near his right leg with his left hand fully spread. Bolts of electricity flowed from those hands to Ferrigo and Preniik Su'uleezs. Su'uleezs struggled to his feet, roared painfully and leapt forward again. Ferrigo continued to scream as he reached over his right shoulder with his right hand and drew out and activated his dark-saber. The robes of the Jedi moved with a flourishing lift as he kicked the Togorian firmly in the right side of his chest, sending the feline humanoid to the street again. Ferrigo continued his advance against the barrage of electricity. The smell of burnt atmosphere, fur and metal filled the air.

Ferrigo was close enough to see that the Kel Dorian had lost his filter mask and goggles, perhaps from his Togorian clansman's desperate attack. The forks of pale yellow lightning ceased to emit from Jedi Master Ven Koon's hands. The Jedi turned and reached toward a step to pick up his breathing apparatus. From his tutelage under Jaster Mereel, Prosstang knew that carbon dioxide, nitrogen and oxygen were fatally poisonous to Kel Dorians. Ferrigo looked at the filter mask and goggles unit and swung his right hand, with dark-saber, toward the middle of the street. The young Mandalorian extended his open left hand to receive an object he desired near the bottom of the steps to the Club Tayana.

Preniik Su'uleezs moaned painfully and turned back to face the Kel Dorian. He saw the black apparatus that once fit to the face of the Jedi Master zip sharply from the steps away from its rightful owner. In the same view, he saw the reflective cylinder at the bottom of the steps jiggle and float in a spinning motion. Toward Ferrigo.

The Kel Dorian growled in a high pitched voice as he staggered down the steps away from the Togorian and Mandalorian. Toward his life support system in the center of the street. The humming whine of a swoop bike barely issued before the vehicle was sighted and forced into colliding with the building opposite the cantina with a sweeping motion of the Kel Dorian Jedi's hands. Neets slammed head-first into the wall over the handlebars and the swoop spun and flipped end over end into the street beyond. Neets slid down the wall of the building, his head somewhat suctioned to the painted durasteel surface with streaking blood and loose solid matter.

Ferrigo felt a sting and a radiating heat, his body was spun around in a counter-clockwise circle by the impact of a large packet of red light energy into his left armored chestplate.

He groaned, completed his foot-shuffling rotation and then raced toward Ven Koon, who now had his life support apparatus in hand. Su'uleezs joined him in the race toward the Jedi. Ferrigo activated the Jedi's lightsaber.

-Protect him-

The dexterity of the Kel Dor was legendary. And now known to Ferrigo. No sooner had Koon placed the mask on his face, the Kel Dorian shouted, "Look out!"

Not sure why, Ferrigo turned away from the Kel Dorian and instinctively twisted his wrists in several directions to fan the blades of Jedi Master Koon's lightsaber and his own dark-saber in tight arcs. Ferrigo deflected six heavy, red blaster bolts from an armed swoop bike that displayed to his great horror the gruesomely decapitated head of Koon's Padawan Liera between the handlebars. The striped grey Trandoshan Xossk lifted himself off of the swoop in an oddly graceful flip and twist, his landing turned into a tuck-and-roll. The young Mandalorian sprung upward and twisted himself to give slashes with both of the sabers he possessed as the Trandoshan rolled under him.

The Trandoshan trilled in pain as puffs of dark blood vapor rose into the air from his shoulders. "Fierfek!! Karking schutta!!"

The Kel Dorian leapt, robes flapping high above the ensuing melee toward the entry of the Club Tayana, and Xossk turned to face Ferrigo and Su'uleezs with a pistol drawn. The Togorian roared and with a swift swipe of his claw, tore into the reptilian flesh of the Trandoshan's left shoulder beneath his chestplate. In response, Xossk hit the felinoid solidly across the face with his own claw and the butt of the pistol, knocking Su'uleezs over and away from Ferrigo. With a sweep of his left hand, the green lightsaber held by the young Mandalorian removed the muzzle of the pistol, and the Trandoshan dropped it and swung his right leg around at chest level in an attempt to catch Prosstang's arm or shoulder. Ferrigo dropped into a crouch, letting Xossk's leg sweep over his helmet.

From a tight crouch, Su'uleezs sprung his head and shoulder into the long torso of Xossk, and barreled the reptilian for several turns. "Traitor!" the Togorian roared.

"I sssserve Anurgga the Mightyyy! Whooo do youuu ssssserve?!" Xossk growled and hissed an instant before jumping with his left foot extended. His kick landed solidly into the feline humanoid's chest, causing Su'uleezs to grunt and gasp at the force of the blow. But on impact, Preniik Su'uleezs caught and held the lower leg of the Trandoshan. He then spun fiercely as he allowed himself to fall backward, and hurtled Xossk face first into the street surface. The loud smack of his snout into the ground did little to deter the reptilian from leaping toward Ferrigo from his prone position, with a sudden burst of green light that emitted from a metallic cylinder Xossk held.

Ferrigo quickly dodged the tip of the lightsaber with a shuffle step, and spun to clatter the Trandoshan attack aside with his dark-saber and Master Koon's green lightsaber. Ferrigo caught sight of a few dozen thugs, Nikto, Weequay, and human as they poured out from an open warehouse door a half block away. They wore a wide array of body armor, and carried a variety of weapons. Their charge seemed clear. They were intent on joining the melee.

Su'uleezs drew his own dark-saber and activated it.

Xossk withdrew several steps, allowing the melee to form before him. The Mandalorian and Togorian whirled their blades, kicked, elbowed and gored many of the onslaught. The Trandoshan began to move back into the fracas when he was suddenly lifted from the ground and rotated to face the Club Tayana. The Kel Dor Jedi held up his left hand and pushed it out. Xossk flew into the middle of the bloody mayhem. A mayhem that was decidely moving in favor of Ferrigo and Su'uleezs, as limbs and heads were being removed with great speed and power. The whistling of dark-sabers, cracks of darts fired, hisses of liquid flame dispersed, roars, screams and groans filled the urban canyon.

In the scrum, Xossk exploded with a burst of speed, now wielding the green lightsaber of Padawan Liera and his own shining metallic blade. The Trandoshan seemed at first as intent as Ferrigo and Su'uleezs to dispatch the goons, some of whom had begun to fire their blaster pistols. "Schingo! I'm hit!" the Togorian yelled.

"Keep fighting, ner vod!!" Ferrigo lopped the heads of three burning attackers off with a dual sweep of his blades, spinning into the foray toward Xossk.

Su'uleezs punched the tip of his dark-saber into the chest of a large Weequay, and lifted him over his own head and threw him over with his left hand. The Weequay slid off of the dark-saber and onto a forming pile of dead and dying thugs. A dark brown-skinned human moved in on the Togorian with a thrust of a dual headed blade staff. Su'uleezs quickly blocked the blade away, mere inches from his chest. With a slashing motion of his left claw, the felinoid opened the flesh and carotid arteries of the human. The human gurgled as blood fountained and spurted, his hands insufficient to respond to his fatal condition.

Several steps from his mentor and friend, Ferrigo leapt over a pair of swinging blades from his left and right, and kicked the Nikto to his left hard in the throat. He inserted point of his dark-saber under the solar plexus of the human on his right after he landed in a squat, and whipped the green lightsaber in a backward arc, removing the top of the head of the hunched over Nikto. The balls of the Mandalorian's boots continued to spin on the dirty street, and the Jedi lightsaber he held in his left hand split the calves and shins of the human from his leather boots on completing a half-rotation. The boot stumps smoldered in place, reeking of burnt human flesh and bantha hide.

The Mandalorian felt the immediate presence of his nemesis, and attempted to roll on his back with the green lightsaber raised over his head. Xossk's metal blade clanged on Ferrigo's left gauntlet before the roll began. The bulk of his non-functional jetpack impeded a full roll. Ferrigo snapped himself up to his feet and released a thin spray of flame toward Xossk.

Su'uleezs roared and brought his oscillating yellow dark-saber blade down toward the Trandoshan's head.

"HHHAAAAAHHhhhhrrrr!!" the Trandoshan roared and then trilled as he spun away from the Mandalorian and Togorian, raising the Padawan's green lightsaber blade to deflect Su'uleezs' overhead chop. The Togorian pressed his attack, forcing the Trandoshan to parry in retreat. "I love to eat feline meat! Many Togorians and Cathars have died on my blade! You shall join them, Weegan!"

A group of Nikto and Weequay that attempted to outflank Prosstang and Su'uleezs suddenly found themselves bathed in a crackling and humming field of electricity. Their features were accented by yellow arcs of light as their skin, armor and clothing singed. Out of the corner of his eye, Ferrigo spotted Jedi Master Ven Koon raising his left hand and spreading a fan of electricity that was pulsing through a cluster of thugs. Ferrigo bathed the screaming group with his flamethrower, then turned his attention back to Xossk and Su'uleezs.

With great power, Su'uleezs knocked the Trandoshan onto the ground with a solid kick to the left leg. The force of the blow seemed to cause the light saber in Xossk's left hand to deactivate. Another upward swinging kick knocked the head and chin of the crouching reptilian backward. A burst of speed carried Ferrigo's purple-wreathed onyx-colored blade whistling toward the exposed neck of his nemesis.

"Echuta!" Xossk instantaneously produced a firm defense with his unique metallic sword. The clang reverberated for several seconds. Suddenly, Ferrigo fell onto his jetpack hard, which resulted from a swift and powerful foot-sweep by the Trandoshan.

Preniik Su'uleezs grabbed a surprised Xossk by the left shoulder from behind, pushing him down and turning him into the tightened grip of his claw. The Togorian switched his grip on his dark-saber and extended his right arm fully, watching the tip of his blade.

Ferrigo rolled to his left and sprung to his feet. He turned left and began to move in with a flourish of the blades when the Trandoshan turned his left claw at his waist an instant before a flash of pale green light appeared between the Trandoshan and Togorian. The young Mandalorian screamed as he saw the green light shine its way through the center of the back of Preniik Su'uleezs. The tiger-like humanoid gasped to roar, but no noise came out. His one-time mentor's eyes gazed longingly and then blankly into Ferrigo's visor, his claws releasing from his dark-saber and Xossk's shoulder then clenching tightly into balled fists, eyes squinting before he released a prolonged groan.

Xossk spun around Su'uleezs, who in death wavered on his feet for several counts before falling forward. Ferrigo brought great fury and speed to bear on the Trandoshan, who held up Liera's blade in defense of his life. The chirping whines of lightsabers spanking against each other and the clattering ting of the whistling dark-saber as it landed blow after blow on the Trandoshan's blocking blade reverberated around the entrances and facades of buildings in the area.

Ferrigo yelled curses and grave profanities at Xossk, who merely screeched, trilled and hissed in reply. The Trandoshan backed up from shuttered storefront to storefront, parrying to the best of his limited abilities for the most part of a minute. Three cuts from Ferrigo's blades elicited hisses and trilling yelps. Xossk landed a few blows of his own, but the strong, resistant beskar iron proved those hits to be ineffective.

"I sssskinned the Tiny Sssstarlet, Schingo!" Xossk hissed at the Mandalorian. "She was a looossssse end. Youuu should nevvver involve your loverrr in a game like thissssss!"

"You'll pay for what you've done! With your life you kriffing sleemo!!"

Another twenty counts of feverish bladesmanship passed, sparks flying with each chirp, ting and tang. Xossk leaned in when the blades locked together and spat at Ferrigo. "Youuuu Mandalorians never learnnn, and thissss lessssonnnn is overrr!" The Trandoshan trilled a crying call for aid. The young Mandalorian wished that his HUD and gear electronics were in functioning order, but kept up with his assault.

Ferrigo ducked and dodged quickly to his left, lifting and driving his purple haloed black blade against the outside of the Padawan's blade with a loud clatter, forcing Xossk's right hand forward. In a fluid motion, Prosstang separated Xossk's right arm from his body just below the shoulder with Jedi Master Koon's green blade. The Trandoshan screeched and kicked the Mandalorian in the lower mid-section, sending him back several steps. Xossk, still screeching in agony, ran to a speeder that arrived on the far side of the street near the wreckage of Neets'yuel's swoop bike.

"I'll make you pay, Velrrus!!" the Trandoshan lifted his remaining arm and shook his fisted claw with a talon extended in displeasure and pain.

Ferrigo picked up the Padawan's extinguished lightsaber from the severed reptilian claw, and put it into his left side cargo pocket. He then bowed his head over his dear friend and mentor, Preniik Su'uleezs. "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum Preniik Su'uleezs...Kenna Luxara...Lu'uk Ordo...Jaster Mereel..." he continued for another ten counts listing names of childhood friends lost. He kneeled down and touched Preniik Su'uleezs, stroking his shoulders and head. "My friend. You will never be forgotten. I will avenge you."

To Ferrigo's astonishment, the Togorian gasped and grunted. The young Mandalorian pulled off his own helmet and leaned down. A few soft words emitted from the whiskered mouth of Preniik Su'uleezs. "Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum, Fer'k...wer'cuy buir aaray...Forgive your...father."

"I love you, brother. I will hold you in my heart forever." Ferrigo said softly as Su'uleezs went slack. Ferrigo picked up the Togorian's dark-saber and matching holster, and rose to his feet. He put his helmet back on and began to cry softly, shaking his head and taking deep breaths. Walking toward the Club Tayana.

Xossk, your hide is mine.

Aftermath
Ferrigo approached the Kel Dorian Jedi at a dark corner table with Preniik Su'uleezs' dark-saber drawn but not ignited.

"We were both part of a game, Schingo Velrrus. Perhaps all of us," Ven Koon's voice sounded slightly gravelly.

Ferrigo opened his left hand, indicating the chair across the table from the Jedi. "May I join you?" He set the dark-saber on the table. "It may be time we both answered some questions."

After five minutes, Ferrigo removed the dark-saber from the table, pushed back his chair, stood and exited the cantina with Ven Koon. They were soon inside the threshold of the small 'safehouse' apartment. It was a grisly scene of destruction. The Mandalorian and Jedi had discussed what they might find.

"My Padawan. And one of your lovers," Koon seemed to be scanning the room thoroughly, hands on hips. "Nina. The young, small Balosar. She believed that you were coming to rescue her from Liera. Her weapon stunned Liera, who was then decapitated with a violent swing of a blade. An ancient blade."

"Nina." Ferrigo gasped and held the back of his right glove under his chin.

The Kel Dorian moved around the side of the apartment, gazing upon the carnage. "Tell me about the Trandoshan. You know him. A past encounter. A team member. Traitor."

Ferrigo looked at the Jedi. "Xossk. Known now as the 'Wraith of Boz Pity.' He's worked for my boss. For longer than I know. He's killed at least one of my relatives. Brutal. I believe he was hired to take me out...after we were finished taking you out. No offense."

"None taken."

"I removed his right arm. He carried your Padawan's lightsaber. I have your blades, both of them. Hers and yours. I'd be happy to call us even and give them back to you."

"You were hired to take me out?" the Kel Dorian asked almost rhetorically.

"I would have done it. But something...maybe one of your mind tricks convinced me to spare you. No, to protect you." Ferrigo removed traces of himself from the apartment as the conversation continued, stifling tears at the sights of death and gore.

"I didn't send that suggestion. I too received that suggestion." The Kel Dorian stroked the bottom of his breathing apparatus in thought as Ferrigo allowed his helmet to shift in astonishment. "You are a powerful warrior, young Velrrus. And clever. But I believe there is unfinished business with the architects of this plot."

"I was one of the architects, Master Koon. But...I believe I have been outplayed. Again."

"I know we have both suffered great losses this day. But the endgame has yet to unfurl, young Mandalorian." The Jedi Master gently pointed toward Ferrigo's cargo pant pocket containing the lightsabers. "The lightsabers, in your possession, may yet serve a greater purpose."

"You are sharp, Jedi. Maybe too sharp. What are you getting at?" Arms folded, the young Prosstang waved his upturned open hand.

"If you have been betrayed, your arrival with evidence of your success in foiling their plot may signal trouble for anyone assigned to terminate your employment."

"Of course," Ferrigo folded his arms back together. "I'll need to fix my gear. You sort of fried my circuits."

"Indeed. I hope you do not expect an apology."

"Self-preservation. I understand. I'll just need some time to repair my gear. I don't go anywhere blind."

"But you have the Force as an ally, Velrrus."

"I don't believe that. Not for one minute." Prosstang shook his head slowly. "I've lost too much. And besides, I'm not sure that Anurgga would take my word and two lightsabers as proof of my success in bringing you down."

The black goggles of the Kel Dorian regarded Ferrigo for several counts. "I will be your prisoner when you request an audience with the Hutt."

"What's to say I won't finish the job as Anurgga ordered?"

"The Force is also my ally, Schingo Velrrus. It told me to protect you. I trust whatever the outcome, my destiny serves the will of the Force."

The Finishing Details with Jedi Master Ven Koon
Ferrigo stood before Anurgga the Hutt, his left hand gripping a handle connected to several manacles that restrained the Jedi Master Ven Koon. A Gamorrean guard stood to either side of the Mandalorian and his bounty. Ferrigo's utility belt had two silvery metallic lightsabers attached to its left side. Minutes before, the young Mandalorian had activated his heads up display, combat systems ready.

"Wonky Anurgga. Vota doe muri jeedai Ven Koon," Ferrigo raised his left hand slightly, and pulled the chain to cause the Kel Dorian to stir and shuffle. "Wanta dah moolee-rah?" his right index finger pointed to the floor. "Ateema."

"Jeedai pudu, ma grancha panwa." Anurgga chuckled. "An Vaylohroosa," the Hutt growled before he shouted. "U vopa andoba mu-moulee?! Noah!!"

"Keel-ee calleya ku kah," Ferrigo spoke calmly through his vocal emitter at full volume. "I hope C-5TO can translate this correctly."

The pink protocol droid stationed on the raised dais to Anurgga's right shuffled as if to be better prepared.

The Mandalorian gestured to the Kel Dorian Jedi. "My lord. I brought in this Jedi Master without any assistance. I asked your grace for a team. That team plotted to kill me rather than do their jobs."

The protocol droid animatedly related Ferrigo's words and the Hutt responded with deep guttural growls and angry words. C-5TO turned to Ferrigo. "Schingo Velrrus. You are already an employee of the Mighy Anurgga. Further compensation is unnecessary, and, not forthcoming."

Ferrigo removed a long flap of grey reptilian skin from a tanned roba hide pouch hanging from the right side of his utility belt. "Xossk attempted to kill me. He said I betrayed you, and that you put a contract on me."

"Noah!!" Anurgga protested. "Schingo...Anurgga noah naga killee Schingo!"

The Mandalorian raised his left gauntlet. "I am here to collect two payments. One million Republic credits for the Jedi and his Padawan, and another payment as a final installation on the contract we had. I am ending it."

"Kava moulee-rah?"

"Four million."

"Ees hoppada nopa!" The Hutt then rumbled a deep laugh for five counts. After Anurgga mumbled to the protocol droid, C-5TO shifted her stance. "The Mighty Anurgga refuses to pay such an exorbitant sum. For any service. He will release you from contract with no further payments."

"That's not gonna fly," Ferrigo pressed a few buttons on his gaunlets without glancing down, and appeared to have merely brushed them. "We both know that you paid Xossk to take me out. And the young Jedi. You'll pay me five million total. And you can keep this Jedi Master and send me on my merry way."

C-5TO gestured in exasperation, though the droid had no such function. She mimicked her master's grumbling mood well. "The Exalted Anurgga bids you consider how you came about learning this information," the pink protocol droid turned to its left to regard Anurgga and a door that slid open slowly to Anurgga's left rear flank. Two burly Nikto guards wearing leather armor each held a long pike and a length of chain. The chain was attached to a metal collar. A collar worn by a practically nude Melaa Kuporr.

"Munit ca'nara ni haa'taylir gar utrel'abaar, mesh'la Melaa." Ferrigo chided and shook his head in admiration. "Gar tal'onidir...Anjii ne'gebi."

"Murcyur ner shebse, Schingo." Melaa seethed, barely clad in an arrangement of stretch fabric straps that might have made a Zeltron beachcomer blush. The luxuriant evidence of her womanhood was clearly unrestrained.

"Gar copaanir? Ni liser." Ferrigo was sure that Melaa could see his smile even beneath his bucket.

"You know one another?" the Kel Dorian Jedi asked in slight disbelief as the Mandalorian turned his helmet slightly.

"You could say she was my insurance policy."

Ven Koon said blandly with his gravelly voice. "Looks like your policy could use more coverage."

"Or certain policy features...trimmed."

"Ne'johaa!! Ni'duraa!!" Melaa Kuporr seemed ready to explode from her collar and straps to attack her blood relation. "Tsikador gar mavir oyacyir ner dayn'la!"

Ferrigo casually held up his hand in a hushing motion. "Tion'jor bat Ordo's kov'choruk vaabir gar kute?"

"K'olar slana'nipir, Velrrus!!" Kuporr shouted in anger.

Anurgga roared. "CHUBA!!"

Ferrigo held his left gauntlet out toward Anurgga. "Uba dopa-meeky sleemo. Ka tinka cheeska je ateema, Anurgga? Dopo mee gusha, peedunkey?"

Anurgga calmed and drew his small hands to his sizable chest.

Ferrigo maintained his aim at the large Hutt. "Hagwa do ooma. U koose cheekta nei."

"Eniki, Vaylahroosa," Anurgga groveled. "Jee koose cheekta Mellah Kuporrah." The two Nikto guards walked Melaa Kuporr down the platform and over toward Ferrigo and the Kel Dorian Jedi Master.

''Good, the slimy Hutt is giving in. ''

When the guards and the young Mandalorian woman reached a large, rectangular ferrosteel ventilation grate, Melaa screamed and the horned-faced guards yelled as the metal groaned and gave way as a trap door on the side nearest Prosstang and Ven Koon. Anurgga the Hutt chortled deeply.

As the young Mandalorian began to run toward the open ventilation shaft, he felt sharp tugs at the left side of his utility belt. He drew the Taddie pistol from his right side holster as he jumped forward with a full-twist to face for a fleeting moment the Kel Dorian Jedi. Ven Koon's expression felt pensive to Prosstang, with his manacles raised away from his torso to the left. The single Taddie blaster shot broke the shackle bonds with a loud clank, freeing the hands of the Jedi to receive the two metallic cylinders that were flying away from Ferrigo.

More Than They Bargained For: An Escape to Remember
Prosstang allowed his helmet and shoulders to lead his way downward into the hole, his focus shifted immediately as his jetpack activated. He sped toward the shackled Melaa and the Nikto guards as they fell. He barked a series of commands, almost as one long word into his vocal receptor on the way down. Ferrigo raced behind Kuporr and embraced her to his beskar'gam, her collared head in front of his chest. Her chains continued to rattle as he curled her tightly into his body and turned his back to the ground a split second before they would impact the gravel and sand below. The Nikto had already impacted the ground with loud thuds. Thinking of a soft bed of air below them from the time he embraced his distant cousin, his jetpack scattered a large cloud of gravel, sand and dirt on impact without breaking or crushing.

They were alive.

A loud, guttural roar reverberated and vibrated the rough stone cavern they saw above and around them. The creaking ferrosteel grate and vent opening were directly above the two Mandalorians. Ferrigo, finally recovered from the pain and shock of impact, and gasped and sucked air deeply.

"Gar beskar'gaika acyk ner shebse, Schingo," Melaa whispered over her shoulder.

Ferrigo, still breathed heavily and considered what might be shaking the rock with its voice. "Gar serim. Gar shebs ori'shebs." He mustered an unseen smile.

"Ne ba'gedet'ye!" Melaa shook herself and her chains out of Ferrigo's grip as he loosened it, and she slapped the left side of his helmet, rattling her bindings to no harmful effect. Another roar then shook them both to their cores and they heard a rhythmic dull clanking of heavy gears as they were being engaged.

Ferrigo turned as quickly as he could, lifting himself from the gravel, Taddie pistol still in his gloved right hand. The left side of his HUD display scrolled text as a few icons blinked along the right margin of his view. Where rock receded Into darkness before them, a deep red outline of something very large lumbered slowly toward them and shook the ground beneath their feet. Long arms seeming to join in a thick brow of a unified shoulder. A thick, long body, at least seven meters tall set on two meter high legs and wide, spread feet. Reptilian.

"Hod Ha'ran, Schingo!" Melaa turned and ran behind Ferrigo, holding his left shoulder and hip. The heavy, thunderous footfalls caused the already loose ground beneath them to lift and settle with rising puffs of dirt. "Me'bana ibic?!"

Ferrigo exhaled slowly and drew out his left side Taddie pistol. "Rancor." He quickly spoke a series of commands into his helmet after clucking his tongue. "K'olar ni dinu nau'turau!" Prosstang handed the scantily clad and metal-cuffed Melaa his right Taddie and drew his dark-saber from its holster over his right shoulder.

As it emerged into the faint light that streamed down from Anurgga's chamber, the rancor roared with an exceptional amount of aggravation, steam and saliva. Its gruesome facial structure seemed to send Melaa further behind Ferrigo. "K'oyacii, ner vod. Hukaatir ni jate."

Ferrigo activated his dark-saber, and began a shuffle sprint toward the beast, kicking up dirt and gravel along his path. In his HUD, the Mandalorian saw the rancor's right arm draw back slightly. "Sen'tra laam!" Ferrigo yelled, before the beast swung its claw forward - for him. Prosstang's jetpack launched him upward sharply, ten meters ahead of the rancor.

Ferrigo saw blaster bolts and ion bursts slapping and piercing the beast, whose whipping hand swiped the dusty air where Prosstang had just been. Several blaster shots pierced the arm of the rancor and it let loose with a roar that caused the airborne Mandalorian to float backward a few meters. Ferrigo let loose with a series of rapid double trigger pulls of his left handed blaster, aiming for the right and then left eye of the rancor.

"Schingo!!" Melaa shrieked in fear, her shackles rattling.

The rancor seemed to stutter step toward him and Melaa, loose and somewhat out of control. It was hard to assess the damage done to the beast, but the Mandalorian's HUD still indicated a bright red halo around it. Ferrigo folded forward, and pointed the top of his helmet at the rancor's shoulders. "Tra'cyar!"

A resounding crack followed by a searing hiss and gurgle of burning fuel was muffled to his hearing by his sealed helmet. In his HUD he saw his launched missile slip almost effortlessly into the space between the shoulders of the rancor, just behind its head. The beast roared and lifted its arms, swatting Ferrigo toward the far wall with the back of its left claw. The Mandalorian floated toward the ground, deactivated his dark-saber, holstered his left Taddie and turned to face Melaa. Before he hit the ground, he activated his jetpack to fly to her as his 'target.'

Melaa lifted her arms and chained wrists in surprise at the rapid approach of the Mandalorian. He grabbed her roughly, causing her to fire his pistol at the ceiling of the cavernous dungeon space. The explosion from inside the neck cavity of the rancor knocked them both toward the impact-crushed Nikto guards, and into the gravel and sand. Ferrigo rolled slighty onto Melaa to cover her from the searing shower of bone fragments and chunks of rancor flesh and hide.

The angry roar of Anurgga was audible, and it rolled down the rock faces with an echo. "Gankeeeees!!"

Ferrigo lifted himself from the blood, flesh and dirt-crusted Melaa Kuporr. "Iba'haa'it, Mel." He grabbed a large shard of the bloody rancor skin and flesh and clipped it to his utility belt casually. He also placed two gore-covered rancor teeth in his large pouch.

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, ner vod?" Melaa smiled faintly, and began to turn on her left side before getting up. "Gaa'taylir ni, Schingo. Kad Ha'rangir..."

"Ganks. Ner ashi nau'turau bal ashiise tebecii." Prosstang handed Kuporr his other Taddie and the ammo reloads before he turned to face a score of armored Ganks, the tallest being a head shorter than Ferrigo. He activated his dark-saber, which chattered and whistled once the faint streaks of purple appeared, wrapped around the pitch-black void shaped like a single-edged sword blade.

Kuporr kneeled and began to fire at every target within ten meters. The Ganks fired back as Ferrigo charged toward them. Ferrigo unleashed a low, sweeping arc of flame from his right gauntlet as he moved toward the scattering Ganks. He stopped the spray of fuel and began to cull the nearest humanoids, slicing his dark, glowing blade through them. Shrieks and howls echoed in the cavern.

"Epar ibis!" Kuporr continued her veritable barrage of plasma and ion energy into the remaining, fleeing Ganks. Some were running toward her mindlessly. She stopped their progress with clean shots to the centers of their helmets.

Ferrigo batted aside several blaster bolts from the Ganks with his perception, will, and blade converging. His reflexes were extremely sharp. He felt full of power, lost in a dance of death and destruction. Almost effortlessly, he dodged, ducked, spun and continued to turn aside the cowering defenses of the Ganks before disarming and killing each with whistling swings of his blade. When the last of the Ganks had been decapitated, Ferrigo turned and deactivated his saber. He glanced at Melaa, who still kneeled.

"Gar kandosii'la," Melaa looked up at Ferrigo as he approached her with his left hand extended to lift her up. "Ni draar haatyc verd'yc haran. De solus."

Ferrigo looked at the large mound of rancor that still shuddered and steamed in its death throes, and turned back to consider how his display of violence impacted Melaa. He gazed upon her for a moment. She was truly beautiful, and not at all helpless, though she looked the perfect slave in the moment. Even covered with the gore of filth and battle. She had done her part. He considered for a moment if she was meant to be his match.

-No. ''Her actions shall save the future of our people. Be safe''.-

Ferrigo shook his head briefly, and took his Taddies from her.

"Schingo," Melaa lifted with Ferrigo's help. "Slana mhi, ner cyar'ika."

The young Mandalorian used a tool from one of his utility pouches and unlocked Kuporr's shackles and collar brace. He let the bindings and chains fall to the ground. "Mel, mhi slana al'ibic Gank'yc spirba." Ferrigo put his left hand around Melaa's waist and escorted her quickly toward the portal where they had seen the Ganks emerge. "Mel gar as ner vod."

"Elek, Redar. Gar serim."

They found their way through a door and corridor leading to what seemed to be a staging room. Melaa commented on its reek before they opened the door, and their condition of being caked in dirt and blood.

"Melaa," Ferrigo responded as they both spotted a refresher cabin door. "I need you to shower, and wash down my gear. Please get it turned on. I'll lock this place down in the meantime."

"Me'copaani tihaar?" Melaa teased as she opened the door to the refresher. "...ra ni?"

"Melaa, speak Aurebesh," Ferrigo removed his helmet and gasped as she removed her skimpy suit, revealing everything. "As attractive as you and Anjii are, the both of you are like sisters to me."

She entered the refresher. He turned his gaze away to the exit door and then tapped buttons on a semi-circular console. A display screen activated, and he scrolled through several camera feeds. Dead rancor. Dead Ganks. Anurgga's platform was vacant. Anurgga's chamber was vacant. What must have been the holding area for the rancor was vacant. An exterior door, likely from this wing of the palace, appeared to have two Nikto guards waiting outside.

"Schingo?" Melaa called out. "Come in, I will wash you down."

Ferrigo did as he was asked, and closed his eyes so as not to be tempted to gaze on Melaa. He felt her hands wiping and pressing on his armor and flight suit. The water turned off, and Ferrigo's eyes opened to see her back to him, exiting the refresher. When he emerged, dripping wet, she wore a dark, thick fabric cloak.

"Perfect." Ferrigo said evenly. "You put up the cowl, and you look like a Jedi." He gathered his weapons.

Melaa turned to him with a wry smile. "I do not have shoes. You should carry me."

"In a minute. I will need you to hang tight here until I return with the speeder," Ferrigo tapped a button to open the door to the corridor leading to the exit.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from here."

Ferrigo returned within ten minutes for Melaa, having dispatched the guards. Ferrigo met her at the exterior door and lifted her into his arms, putting her into the back of the speeder.

"I think I could like this sort of service," Melaa Kuporr smiled.

Melaa Kuporr Undercover & Exposed to Schingo's Menagerie
A few days had passed. Ferrigo had enhanced the security at all of his Nar Shaddaa locations with the help of his droids. His astromech, R4-W8, whom he called 'Wait-For' and his protocol-business droid CZ-DV8, or Deevee-Eight. Scores of DUM maintenance droids had been wiped and reprogrammed to respond or communicate to a central command from each of his locations, as well as from the locations of his former slaves. Deevee-Eight and Wait-For were that central command, and Ferrigo had his shocktrooper helmet communications system connected to his droids. Lennie and Ku-Kee, the servant droid and culinary droid, respectively, were also tied to Deevee-Eight and Wait-For.

For the time being, Melaa Kuporr stayed at his Corellian Sector luxury apartment in a separate room, free of the wandering and resting varieties of schinga that Ferrigo had welcomed as familiar friends. She had expressed some distaste with the fact that he possessed women, and had them serving his primal desires. And the serpents. With the former, he explained that he was purchasing them with the intent of eventually freeing them, and providing them with opportunities to make meaningful lives as part of a galactic business network. And his treatment of them was much preferred to that of any Hutt. With the latter, he told her that the schinga and he shared a mutual respect for each other and he felt more spiritually connected with them being near.

She would occasionally comment over breakfast to Ferrigo about the noise coming from his suite. Most nights, Aallys shared Ferrigo with one or more of the other girls. The first night, Melaa eavesdropped on the young Mandalorian and his slaves.

She overheard him telling Aallyss'anada and the remainder of his beautiful slave girls about the tragic loss of Nina Bar'jekida as he sat, slumped back in his chair.

"We know that you grew very fond of her, Master Schingo," Baralla, the tall, light purple Sephi, spoke softly as Iggerina Bacha, the buxom, brown-skinned human gently rubbed Ferrigo's right shoulder and played tenderly with Baralla's pointed ears.

"Yeah, she was so tiny and cute," Iggerina offered. "Those pierced antennas. Her little tattoos. She smelled so good. And so smart and funny. That girl knew everything!"

The other girls agreed. Ferrigo fought back tears, smiling at his loving servants as they held him and each other. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.

Cheelie Vyn, a voluptuous, pale green-skinned Mirialan with purple dye streaked black hair and a pirate past had been a recent addition. She thrilled at opening herself to Ferrigo's ways as often as she could. She kneeled in front of Ferrigo and caressed his chest and thighs after pulling off his boots.

Hua'la Rassan, a pale purple-skinned Theelin with shocking reddish-pink hair, leaned in to kiss her master's lips. She had a rash of dark pink skin spots across her upper arms, shoulders and back, and had a talent for singing. Aallys and Ferrigo both touched Hua'la's set of small, rounded horns that emerged from the sides of her forehead.

The dark blue Rutian Twi'lek, Dendanna Saruda removed her garments and bid her master to join them in his suite. The rest of the slaves removed their clothing, and removed his belt, pants, and socks, before he followed them to the large circlular bed. For the next several hours, Aallys, Dendanna, Baralla, Hua'la, Iggerina and Cheelie engulfed every last surface of his muscular form. In his turn, he succeeded in his quest to torment each of them with the delights of his bountiful gifts until they surrendered their tensions to his loving vigor. After several hours, their passionate, loud, adoring and exuberant workout left them utterly spent and exhausted.

Melaa was breathtaken at what she saw. Though she wanted to eat, drink or sleep, she could not pull herself away from the spectacle until it was finished.

A few mornings after she had arrived, Melaa couldn't help but comment about what she had seen, heard and understood.

"You should pace yourself." Melaa said blandly, as a small yellow schinga slid across the counter in front of her.

Ferrigo looked up from his caf and breakfast. Hua'la had been busy in the kitchen with Iggerina and Ku-Kee making breakfast for everyone. "Thank you Hua'la, Iggerina. Your Schingo likes this." He turned to face Melaa. "Why? You looking to join the party?"

Melaa gaped for a moment. "You are depraved. I am amazed by you. Always have been. But you are disgusting."

Hua'la, Iggerina, Cheelie and Baralla looked at Schingo and Melaa. Lennie, the 'rabbit' servant droid asked if anyone wanted more caf or tea.

Ferrigo got up from the counter. "Follow me, Melaa. Ladies, please pardon us for a few minutes."

"Ni nu'to gar dala'tsad, Velrrus." Melaa said with a tone of bitterness.

Ferrigo gestured casually to his clan relative, dismissing her comment about not joining his harem. "I want to talk business. In private."

The slave girls returned to eating their food as Aallys and Dendanna joined them at the kitchen counter.

"Good morning, my love," Aallys said as she sat on one of the stools.

"Morning, Babe. I have to talk business with Melaa for a few minutes. You can join me if I'm taking to long," Ferrigo smiled at Aallys. The other girls knew that Aallys was his favorite. She was also their trainer and mentor in many ways. She had shown them how to bring Schingo to ecstasy, and how to communicate with him to get what they wanted from him. Because that would bring him greater joy.

When they were alone in the library, Melaa sat in one of the reading alcoves as light from the primary streamed through the tinted windows. "Do you miss Kenna Luxara?"

"Yes."

"I can tell." Melaa's hazel eyes looked directly into Ferrigo's blue eyes

"Just don't ask me about Relia Vu'udrel."

"Vu'udrel? Why not?"

Ferrigo paused. "The first cut is the deepest."

"Figures. She is my friend Ghetta's least favorite person." Melaa said plainly.

"Ghetta Dehet?  She's a friend of yours?" Ferrigo thought hard on the red haired, bitter woman of his younger memories.

Melaa looked at Ferrigo. "She is a friend. Joined me on the trip here to support Su'uleezs. To bring you back."

"Really?" his brow furrowed as he grimaced. "How did she get involved? She's not on the Prosstang payroll."

After taking a deep breath, Melaa continued. "She is a mentor. Sometimes a trainer at the Sundari Royal Police Academy."

"That dala is a bit off mark," Ferrigo waved his hands across the small table between them. "There's not a game she won't play, Melaa. How did she get involved?"

Aallys called into the library. "Schingo, Baby. Would you two like more caf?"

"Yes, ner cyar'ika. Please." Ferrigo was a bit animated, refocusing on Melaa. "Melaa. Tell me about Ghetta."

"Schingo, she is a member of our clan, for Kad Ha'rangir's sake. Calm down." Melaa folded her arms. "She asked me if she could come."

Without a moment's pause, Ferrigo grinned. "Why wasn't she wearing a Hutt slave outfit?"

Melaa did not respond with more than a glare.

"Where is she now?" Ferrigo opened his hand interrogatively. "Polishing Anurgga's buffet set?"

"You don't know her!" Melaa snapped.

"She doesn't shave," Ferrigo retorted. "And worse yet, she should!"

Aallyss'anada entered the library wearing a fine silken robe with ornate threading. She smiled and gently deposited cups for Melaa and Ferrigo on the alcove table. "Everything alright?" the pale blue Twi'lek asked politely.

Melaa was a moment quicker than Ferrigo. "Your Master is being a roba's backside."

"Aallys, does that sound like me? Backside of a roba?"

"My Lord, you do taste wonderful, even raw," Aallys smiled wickedly and Ferrigo beamed with pride. The mature Twi'lek knew that her teenage Master had become smitten with her. Ferrigo made it easy for her to see, for there was nothing about Aallys that had not been shared with her Mandalorian lover.

Kuporr's hazel eyes rolled to accompany her sigh. "Enough. Enough of the slave-master sex god thing, Schingo. We have business to talk here."

"Talk Melaa," Ferrigo turned his attention to his clansmember. "Thank you, Aallys. I'll be with you in fifteen minutes to begin my workout."

"Yes, my love, my Master, my god." The Twi'lek turned and walked out of the library.

Melaa gazed blankly at Ferrigo. "I don't know where Ghetta is at. I think she has other friends here on Nar Shaddaa," her hands spread on the table. "She does remember you."

"She offered to take my flower when I was not even old enough to claim my own set of armor, Melaa. Of course she might remember me. She's a social climber."

"Who isn't?" Kuporr shrugged.

"You. You have honor." Ferrigo said plainly before he returned to the subject of Melaa's mentor. "Ghetta and Relia both offered. I didn't do anything until maybe three years ago."

Melaa looked out the window for a while as she spoke. "Look, I do not care about your love life, Schingo. I care about you. Your dad wants you to come home. For some reason, Ghetta thought she could convince you to come home."

"Delusional. I'm home," Prosstang shook his head. "And why should she care? She's up to something."

"After what Anurgga did to me, and you? And what happenend to Soo?!" Melaa's upset reached into Ferrigo. "You should come home, Schingo."

"I'm sorry for what happened to Soo. But that doesn't make Mandalore home. You saw what I do. I am a warrior. And my kind are not welcome. Not by the Duke, and not by my father. I am not going to change. And you can tell Ghetta that I wouldn't be seen with her without someone else's armor on." Ferrigo shook his head again, but with a different realization this time. "I bet she wanted to claim that bounty. I bet it's still out. And I bet she also knows of my double identity."

Melaa bit her lip in thought. "I would think she would have told me, since I was there to help Soo bring you in."

Ferrigo folded his hands together for a moment. "Ghetta Dehet tried to break up Preniik Su'uleezs and his wife. I doubt Soo would have been too happy to have had her as an ace up your sleeve. DId he even know that Ghetta joined your party?"

"No. And, I did not know that about Soo's wife, Schingo," Melaa shifted in her seat. "But that makes sense, now that you mention it."

"Okay," Prosstang shrugged. "What makes sense?"

Melaa shifted again, uncomfortably, and seemed to struggle to make eye contact with Ferrigo. "You see, I believe Ghetta has had relations with your father."

Ferrigo shook his head with wide sweeps. "Tell me you didn't just say that Ghetta Dehet jumped my dad."

"Look, your mother is distraught about you. It's been almost two years since you've contacted them," Melaa continued. "From what I've heard, Ghetta just wanted to comfort him."

"Comfort ner shebs," Ferrigo seethed. "From whom did you hear this?"

"From Ghetta herself." Melaa opened her hand apologetically.

"She's looking to jump up the ladder. That's her mode of operation." Ferrigo excused himself to carry on his daily exercise routine. "I can't hear any more of this. I have to work out. Blow off steam."

Melaa ventured into the fitness room to watch what began as a stretching and weight-lifting regimen for young Ferrigo become a passionate and violent workout of Schingo, the master, and several of his beautiful slaves. Ferrigo glanced over from time to time to see Melaa biting her lip as she gently massaged those parts of herself that he believed recalled the touch of Baytt Gerrik, or more recently, her professed boyfriend, an oversized man-child from her farming community. By the name Trag Ur'mogg.

But the look in her eyes told him that she was getting lost in his seemingly tireless and fierce cycle of conquest and surrender. The screams of the stunningly beautiful Mirialan ex-pirate Cheelie Vyn were ecstatic as the plundering of her treasured booty by Ferrigo's sweat-soaked muscular body seemed poised to split her tensed and vibrating form in two. Dendanna and Baralla wiped Ferrigo and Cheelie with their caressing hands and tasted their torsos with extended tongues. Ferrigo groaned loudly in disbelief, as across the fitness room Aallys, Iggerina, and Hua'la brazenly stripped Melaa of her clothing and began to consume her in their own passions. And Melaa surrendered utterly to the new experience.

After voluminously showering each of his three loving mates with his affections, Ferrigo rasped for Aallys and Iggerina to bring Melaa over for a dose. Melaa shook her head and put two fingers against her lips. Melaa played with Hua'la's horns, and gasped as Aallys resumed her feast on the young Mandalorian woman. Laying back on a workout bench, Melaa's expressions soon blended with those of Baralla, Cheelie and Dendanna as Ferrigo put himself back into play.

Ferrigo soon unleashed himself at Baralla's core with a frenzy of motion, causing the tall, slender Sephi to tremble and cry out as his hands coveted every supple curve and yield of her soft, womanly, pale-purple flesh. As Cheelie rested on her elbows and knees over Baralla's stomach, her tattooed and wet posterior expressed itself with each smack of his open hand, just inches above Dendanna's supine and hungry face. Cheelie turned to gaze at him and yelped with each report. Soon, Dendanna shifted her open mouth to catch and hold Ferrigo's gifts as they presented themselves. She gasped that his treats were delicious as he gently held her 'tchun' lek. Such words and small acts of loving made his eyes cross as the others continued to demonstrate their desire for more. And he gave them, not including Melaa, everything he had in those few hours.

As Ferrigo tried to apply himself to the fitness machines, Melaa continued to receive full attention of at least four of the slaves. Ferrigo responded to her screams and cries with yells of encouragement and teasing, mixed with weakened laughter. Melaa seemed oblivious. His own core muscles were still in constant trembling flux from his earlier exertions, so he wrapped up his workout with some towels, bringing several for his girls and Melaa.

Aallyss'anada and Cheelie gave him kisses. Melaa's eyes were fixed on Ferrigo's twitching endowment.

"Want some?" Ferrigo teasingly gasped with a smile.

"You are a sick man, Schingo Velrrus," Melaa smiled and shook her head slowly. "But these women are amazing. I am beginning to think Brelek's jealousy is well-founded."

"Brelek, jealous? Why?"

Melaa caught her breath as the group left the fitness suite for the den. Iggerina, Hua'la and Baralla handed everyone robes after donning their own from a series of ornamental beskar hooks mounted on a veshok panel attached to the wall.

Melaa sat down on one of the plush sofas and Ferrigo sat across from her, with Aallys and Cheelie climbing onto his sofa at either of his sides. Ferrigo spoke up. "Baralla, Iggerina, please bring us snacks and refreshments. See if Ku-Kee can shake it up a little bit. A little more Mandalorian spice for our special guest."

"Yes, Lord Velrrus." The Sephi and dark skinned human responded in unison.

"Well, before she got married, your friend Relia Vu'udrel had a thing with him. But she refused to settle down," Melaa glanced at Dendanna as she watered the variety of plants in the den. She then startled, likely for the twentieth time, as a schinga picai peeked from behind a box on the low table.

"Yeah, that sounds familiar," Ferrigo lamented. "But he wasn't alone. Settling down wasn't her way."

"But she even told him that she wanted to try you out. I guess from what she had heard about your gifts that you would be the cat's meow. I can see now, that is true."

"He can beat a woman into delicious submission," Iggerina Bacha said with a wry grin.

"Women, Iggy." Ferrigo chided sternly with a wave of his hand. "Don't be naughty. Not now."

"You gonna punish me, Master Schingo?" the buxom brown woman pressed her hands to her own shapely curves, barely hidden by the silken robe she wore.

"Undoubtedly. Be sure to load up on your fluids, supplements, and get some rest." Turning his attention back to Melaa, Ferrigo responded. "Voodoo got more than she bargained for. She took my first dance, Melaa. But I wasn't playing around. I was playing for keeps."

"And she married some guy from Negat instead." Melaa Kuporr said blandly.

"A good friend of mine, a mentor," Prosstang lowered his head slightly. "I didn't know anything about them getting married when I was with her. She said that she would fall in love with me if we continued to see each other. But she'd already promised to marry Tyro."

"She is not trustworthy."

"She's still better than that wench Ghetta Dehet. Remind me to not punch 'Red' in the mouth the next time I see her. And tell your brother he has nothing to be jealous of. I'm happy for him and Anjii."

Melaa gazed directly into Ferrigo's eyes. "Would you have married Voodoo, Schingo? She is more than ten years older than you."

Ferrigo looked around at his mistresses. "At the time. But not now. I'm not ready to settle down. And being with each and all of these beautiful women makes me very happy. They are my loves. And my family."

Aallyss'anada kissed his bearded cheek. "Well said, my young lover." Cheelie kissed his other cheek and groaned softly.

"For my part, I will never forget what happened on Dellalt. And what you said to me. If you remember it someday, I think you will be a different man, Schingo." A tear ran down Melaa's cheek. "I really should go. I have to get back to Mandalore. My mom will already be upset."

"Even my father knows not to cross his cousin Amaana," Ferrigo brushed aside Melaa's remarks about Dellalt, though he felt a gnawing anxiety that somehow he was missing something.

"Now that we're grown, you know that she hangs around your Grandmother Ordo quite a lot," Melaa said with an edge of concern.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Ferrigo replied after taking a deep breath. "Lunasa is a lore keeper."

The slaves changed their postures as their interest increased.

"Lore keeper?" Baralla asked dubiously as she brought in a large tray of various bite-sized snacks.

Iggerina brought a large tray with eight juice glasses. "The biggest glass is yours, Schingo. Full of vitamins, you stallion. Loved the way you made Miss Vyn scream like a fool." Ms. Bacha grinned.

"Whatever, cyar'shebs." Ferrigo chuckled. Cheelie caressed and grasped his chest. He turned to Baralla after she set down her tray. "Yes. Lore. The history of her clan, and Mandalorian culture, including my clan."

"That sounds wonderful," the Sephi smiled.

"Will your children by Raaleena'warlaan and Bekkah Tettix become part of the clan history?" Aallyss'anada asked, rubbing Ferrigo's bearded chin with her light blue fingers.

Ferrigo shook his head slightly, and Melaa gazed intently at her fellow clansman. "I'm afraid that won't be for me to decide, even though I am expected to succeed..." he thought on what he was about to say. "...my own father as leader of my family, and like the chieftain's son or nephew might be expected to succeed him, none of the leaders write the history." Ferrigo took a deep breath. "What I can say, from what I know, is that the history of Clan Prosstang has centered on a connection between a few of the original Mandalorian species; the Taung. Very large, and apelike, but sharply intelligent and brutal warriors. It is said a few of these Taung elected to breed with human females. Among the most beautiful of a long ago immigrated group, from Corellia. These women and, depending on points of view, their Taung masters or lovers were labeled as the Pride of Taung or Prasz'taung. The shamed Taung and their half-Taung offspring were said to have been shunned or executed, the stain of shame remaining with the humans and Taung alike."

The women all listened raptly, and a few of them moved themselves to kneel at Ferrigo's feet. "I love you, Schingo." Aallys almost whispered, but all heard.

He caressed her, and Cheelie. "As the Taung passed into memory, due to disease and reckless decisions to live in constant warfare, the humans associated with the mating of half-breed Taung carried the name Prasz'taung. The chieftains of the clan that would become known as Prosstang only mated with humans - to maintain the purity of the relation of Taung blood. They embraced their shame instead as an honor. This has been true for all of the known history of the Clan Prosstang."

"So, are you saying, Schingo, that any children you have with these women here won't be recognized by our clan?" Melaa Kuporr said with an opening of her hands.

"Not likely, but lesser families like yours and mine might be more open to departing from custom. And, it doesn't change that a father could choose to love all of his children, regardless of their status."

"Schingo, I'm pregnant." Cheelie Vyn said, kissing his cheek. Ferrigo's eyes lit up with surprise, and Melaa relished his astonishment at the beautiful Mirialan's next words. "Twins. I love you, Schingo."

Dendanna Saruda moved behind Ferrigo, close enough to kiss both he and Cheelie, allowing her left head tail to caress both of their faces. "Me too, sweet baby Schingo."

Melaa could not restrain a hearty cackle as her head tilted back. Ferrigo's surprise, happiness and shock overwhelmed his impulse to shoot a burning glance at Kuporr. "Well, Schingo, I must go." Kuporr said with a warm smile. "Before your swelling brood exhausts the food supply of this Smuggler's Moon."

Within half an hour, Melaa was dressed with her belongings in a shoulder bag. Ferrigo put his hands on her shoulders and embraced her.

"Keep an eye out for Ghetta," Ferrigo spoke clearly. "Don't trust her. And tell my father I'll get a hold of him when I'm ready."

"Returcye mhi, ner vod," Melaa turned and left.

A Galaxy of Lovers Apart
A few days later, after checking in on his holdings on Nar Shaddaa and talking to the Dokes who operated Snapping Schinga Delicacies, Ferrigo communicated with Raaleena Warlan and Bekkah Tettix. His former slaves were getting settled, even comfortable with their new situations. Each showed their enlarged abdomen to him, proudly caressing the shared gift of life within them. Ferrigo smiled and expressed his happiness with them.

"If ever you need something, don't hesitate to call me."

Raalee had said. "I need you, Schingo." She had smiled painfully, her lekku shifting with a blown kiss before she disconnected their call.

Bekkah had smiled. "You know you're a total stud, Schingo. But someday, you'll regret letting me go. I am happy being here on Saleucami, with your support. Don't get me wrong, please. You were my first love. I know it's not usual for Zeltrons to be monogamous. But I would have been. For you. For our baby." She had waved her small fingers in front of her beautiful smile before cutting out.

He again felt the boot of his own decisions to flee in his stomach. To be fleeting. Out of love.

And yet, he prepared himself to free Cheelie, Baralla, and Dendanna. Also to be mothers of his children. And the others. Save for Aallys.

He was thoughtful in his placement of them. ''They must be safe. He decided that Cheelie would be sent to Makem Te as a direct representative of Snapping Schinga Delicacies, Dendanna to Bothawui as a luxuries trader for Warrior Lust Trading Co.'', the small shipping firm Ferrigo started under the name of Schingo Velrrus. Baralla would be sent to Coruscant as a freelance freight vehicle designer. Iggerina would be sent to Onderon as a representative of Brilliant Pharmaceuticals, Inc., and Hua'la would be sent to Alderaan as an aspiring professional singer who also sought work in wine exporting until Warrior Lust Trading could establish an office there.

In all of this planning, he could not imagine letting Aallys go.

Though in her mid-thirties, Aallyss'anada was still breathtakingly beautiful, and her awareness of the courtesan arts was unparalleled. It was Aallys who was bringing Ferrigo fully into his manhood. She was wise in her counsel on many things that a businessman, a lover, and a criminal would want or need to know. She had even begun to lovingly groom him in their one-on-one time. Her apparent desire to make him feel like he was the most important being in the galaxy from the first moment they met struck his heart whenever he paused to consider her.

He spent daylight hours during the week after Melaa Kuporr's departure at his Undercity office in the Snapping Schinga Delicacies factory. He wore his grey and red-trimmed beskar'gam at all times outside of his residences. While at work thought about his recent combat experiences and possible improvements to the design, technology and materials of his amor, weapons and suit systems. He was sure these improvements would be made within the year, with some indirect consultation with Prosstang Industries product engineers through Melaa Kuporr.

He also made contacts, using Deevee-Eight's remote capabilities, with land and building brokers in distant systems. He was keen to purchase warehouses on Bothawui, Alderaan, Coruscant, Onderon, Corellia, Zeltros, Nar Shaddaa, Dac, and Ryloth. Ferrigo also secured an office lease for Brilliant Pharmaceuticals on the Corporate Sector capital world, Etti IV, near the headquarters of Cybot Galactica to conduct some further investigation of industrial and commercial investment in the See-Ess.

He occasionally glanced out the window of his office to watch the Swokes Swokes workers checking gages, stirring tanks of marinating gorgs and apparently telling jokes to DUM droids. Sales had been strong, with exports expanding to Tatooine and many other Hutt-inhabited worlds in the last six months. He walked out to the production floor and greeted his employees, who looked a bit less hideous to him with familiarity. Sejiki Dokes and Telron Dokes were on shift most days until late afternoon. They shared some stories and a recap of recent events on Makem Te. Several schinga crawled about them, the DUM droids included, who had be reprogrammed after a week to accept the presence of the curious serpents.

One morning, Iggerina commed him via Deevee-Eight to ask for a private audience. On arrival into his office, she moved into his space, removing pieces of his armor expertly after shutting the blinds. She took off his helmet and pulled his mouth to hers for a deep kiss.

"You can't send me away, baby. Don't do this," she pleaded, and quickly stripped out of her revealing clothing.

"I am freeing you. And the other girls, Iggy," Ferrigo folded his lower lip inward. "But I have assignments for you - I will be in touch."

"Then we're not really free, baby." Iggerina Bacha's hands pulled his trunks down as she lowered herself. "I'm not gonna talk much, Schingo. My mind is full of thoughts, but my mouth wants to be full too."

Ferrigo gasped and grunted aloud as the young dark skinned woman jiggled with motion near his waistline. As he tried to talk, his words were broken with jolts of arousal. "I'm sending you to Onderon. It's a nice place, near Zeltros and the Hapes Cluster," he seethed and clenched his teeth, taking the hair and ears of Ms. Bacha into his hands. "I'll need you to keep your ears and eyes open, reporting to me if anything is likely to cause problems for me or you."

With a loud pop, Iggy pulled away from his waving stanchion. "I want your baby, Schingo. Gimme a baby, you Mandalorian stud."

Growling, he quickly lifted her from her crouched position and carried her across the office to the long, soft, and slick leather sofa where he laid her down. For the next half hour, he bounced and pounded his buxom brown slave girl into the sofa, and into a state of ecstatic, delirious shrieking submission and surrender. Her wild cries and scratching fingernails left his ears, shoulders and chest sore. She slapped his face several times and he shook off each blow, staying the course. Full steam ahead.

"Gar copaanii ner arpat'pirpaak?!!" Ferrigo yelled at her each of several times during the next hour or so when his resolve melted. Iggerina screamed and moaned each time she felt the depth of his offerings, sometimes watching his tanned and untanned skin clapping her own brown skin with such a feverish pace. He saw her beauty yield to his driving desire and handled her roughly during their frenzied dance, body to body. Her cries continued for another half hour as the young Mandalorian pleasured her to an utterly soaked exhaustion.

He eventually dragged himself across the office to open a cabinet near his desk and removed a thin hand towel and tossed it on the sofa. "Iggy, if that didn't send you into orbit with a Schingo satellite or two...you'll have to be okay with that. I don't think I left a nook or cranny undiscovered." He yawned and scratched himself lazily, then picking up his clothing and gear. He tossed her garments onto the sofa where she remained in a shivering heap.

"You are so karking good, Schingo. So big and talented." Iggerina sighed. "I don't want to leave you. Never, baby."

"You're sweet, Iggy. But my mission is to find beautiful slaves, purchase, pleasure and free them with an eye toward the future of my business and their long-term well-being. You are part of that." He pulled on his undergarment trunks and stepped into his flight suit, and zipped it up.

"You better come and service me with your business." She gave him a sly grin.

"Well, until I get married someday," he smiled and chuckled after he sat to put on his socks and boots. "Then I'm off limits."

"You better marry me then, Schingo. I'll make you forget everyone else."

"We know that won't happen. But you will be taken care of. I will see to it."

He gazed at her buxom, perspiration and foam-glazed beauty, and watched her plead as he finished dressing himself in his armor and gear. ''She was good. ''But in the moment, Cheelie and Aallys were very close to his heart, as were Raalee and Bekkah. But he kept these feelings to himself. Fully dressed, he finally placed his helmet over his head. "Seal." The gaskets inflated under his jaw and chin. Don't make a bed you won't sleep in.

Spice Run Downed In Tatooine's Northern Dune Sea
Ferrigo shifted the Never More into a sharp left banking turn. The Never More was a Corellian Engineering Corporation ship in name only. The YT-1000 stock ship that it had once been when Ferrigo purchased it almost three years before with his second pay packet from Anurgga had been modified in so many ways. Internally and externally. Faster. Better protected. Secret compartments. More heavily armed. Improved hyperspace drive.

''Hondo! Fierfek!''

The Weequay seemed to follow too close for too long. And his scheduled transmissions directly to Prosstang had been too infrequent. And then, after they passed through the Death Wind Corridor, Hondo and his vessel could not be raised on Ferrigo's specially-configured comm set. No sign of the decoy. Two hours from Tatooine, another ship appeared on their scope. It's not Hondo.

The Never More carried a shipment of spice mined from Gargon, near Mandalore. The bill of lading in the Republic-provided freight recorder showed a shipment of dietary medicines for Mon Cala and Quarren that lived in non-aquatic environments. The spice had been held in the Nar Shaddaa Undercity warehouse of Brilliant Pharmaceuticals, Inc. for several months after refinement. Brilliant had been Ferrigo's idea - setting up Ohnaka as the chief executive of the distribution company responsible for shipments of medicine around the galaxy. This continued long after both Ferrigo and Ohnaka left the employment of Anurgga.

Many of Ferrigo's slave consorts purchased on Nar Shaddaa and other slave markets in Hutt Space had been freed over the past three years - except Aallyss'anada. As with the first eight, he had shown them loving, enjoyed their pleasures, and set them up as small business owners or employees of his companies throughout the Outer Rim to the Core. Technically, they remained his slaves. He did his best to keep in touch with each of them, as they were linked through a distribution network for their businesses. As their lives unfolded he respected their newly-founded freedom. He believed that he acted on the vision of the manda.

As he guided the Never More into a roll to enter the atmosphere, he checked his overhead indicators and pushed a few buttons to adjust his communications array. He then shifted in his seat to reach across the dashboard control panel to shift a few levers to adjust the primary engine's thrust.

"Wait-For. Anything on the scan of that tracker vessel?"

A low bwoop, several bleeps, two braps, and four chut-chuts. ''A three winged vessel, with engines and over-powered cannons mounted on each wing. Possible ancient design.''

"Well then, shift another fifth of power to the rear shields," Ferrigo shook his head. "This is gonna be a rough ride."

As he promised, the starship to their rear opened fire, rocking the Never More with shuddering blasts. The indicator panels all around the cockpit lit up wildly, and one of the panels sprayed a pulse of sparks toward Ferrigo from above the co-pilot chair. "He's above us to force a dirt landing, Wait-For. But he's avoiding the cargo pods. Shift shields to the topside, little buddy!"

He quickly clucked and clicked his tongue and issued terse commands into his helmet's vocal receptor to ring up Raalee on one of his secured comm channels. His hand snapped up to further adjust the ship's comm antennae to ramp up the signal power. "Jade Looker. This is Snake Pridemaster. I am here to give a bite. I have trouble on my tail." ''Deevee-Eight. Why did I send you out for maintenance? We have a DUM-droid on board. Okay.''

"Wait-For. Activate the DUM-droid and have him come up to flight deck," Ferrigo unstrapped from the pilot seat, turned and stood on the deck.

The astromech protested with a series of braps and chut-chuts.

"Okay, sorry he's not the Orryxian's meow, but we need him to help pilot the Never More, Wait-For." A tint of exasperation colored Ferrigo's voice.

R4-W8 woohed and issued a series of short squeaks, toots and twittering beeps.

"I need to get into the engine compartment. Hold her together, ner vod."

With both hands on the railing Ferrigo lifted his feet from the short stairway down from the flight deck and slid down until his boots hit the deck below. In a split second, he passed the humming DUM-droid as it attempted to run around the turret defense core and him on its way to the cockpit. "Hello, sir! Goodbye sir!" the diminutive bipedal droid shouted cheekily.

Ferrigo opened the hatch and entered the engine compartment. His HUD displayed visual and data informaton supplemented by Wait-For's diagnostics. The Mandalorian took out a small tool kit from the inside of the hatch, and was soon working on the power boost system. Two minutes went by, and the Never More's top and side shields continued to take a beating.

Come on, Raalee, answer, baby.

More ship-shuddering blasts rocked the freighter. The small bright green schinga picai wrapped around his right gauntlet hissed in protest at the jerking movements of the ship. "Yes, Gzzzsslllpp...I know...I know."

Hondo, you kriffing skragger.

Ferrigo quickly inserted a small spray of lubricant and tightened the coupling as Gzzzsslllpp observed. "Just a little loose, guys. Should be back on line after a quick reset. Give yourselves some space." A hard shake had the Mandalorian bracing himself on the insulated pipes around him. Gzzzsslllpp hissed again. "I know, my little friend." Ferrigo ducked and climbed out of the engine compartment before returning to the flight deck.

"Sir, this is Delrod. How exactly do you expect us to give ourselves some space?" the DUM-droid said with dripping sarcasm.

As Ferrigo arrived next the pilot seat mere seconds later, he quickly hoisted Delrod by the neck and tossed him into the co-pilot seat before he strapped in. "Strap in, Solsur'ad." Another series of blasts sent the Never More into a smoking spiral. "Looks like she's gonna meet her destiny, Wait-For!!" The astromech and DUM-droid made a cacophony of high-pitched noises that did little to soothe. Ferrigo glanced to his right and saw the repair droid use its mechanical paws to cover its lone optical receiver.

A Test of His Mettle In The Sands
Ferrigo slammed the large red button on the control panel to his left and pulled the yoke between his legs with great force. Instantaneously, the cockpit door hissed shut and the ship shuddered and broke apart. The cockpit sailed upward toward the darkening sky with a spin and shimmy, the gurgling sound of liquid fuel burning inefficiently, the young Mandalorian unsure of his bearings, except when he saw the pink-orange clouds near the setting suns, Tatoo I and Tatoo II.

Wait-For screeched, wailed and brapped, though Ferrigo was sure the astromech was magnetically secured to the flight deck. Delrod, fastened into the co-pilot seat, yelled a current of invective that surprised Ferrigo. Delrod and Ferrigo turned to regard each other, the large optical unit of the DUM droid locked onto the dark T-visor of the Mandalorian helmet. Wait-For bleeped and twittered and brapped. Large, ballooned fabric bladders exploded from the sizzling and sparking interior panels for their protection. Ferrigo clicked his tongue to activate all of the combat systems of his gear. He also flipped off the safeties of each of his holstered Taddie blasters. "Take flight to the nearest town if you can, Wait-For! I'll come for ya when I can!"

The cockpit pod slammed and bounced into the steeply angled face of a dune, shattering the transparasteel viewport of the cockpit into large shards, popping a few of the inflated bladders. Wait-For screamed, squawked and tutted as the pod rolled, spun and bounced along and down the dune face. Ferrigo yelled and held onto the arms of the pilot chair. Delrod continued to curse, yelp and shout obscenities.

-''They're coming for you. Powerful.''-

"Be'senaar." His left gauntlet dart launcher clicked and whirred as special rounds were chambered. "Tracinya." His right gauntlet popped briefly then hissed as a tiny, conical blue flame focused itself away from its muzzle. "Kotyc'gam." His flight suit vibrated and hummed slightly.

The pod came to a rest, dust and dirt floated all around. Ferrigo unfastened his seat harness.

"That could have been better." Delrod groaned and made a gesture with his open metallic paw, as he removed his seat restraint.

Wait-For booped and whooed softly.

A few blaster bolts seared the dirty air and crashed into the rear of the pod above Wait-For. "Waaaaaahh!! It just got worse! A lot worse!" the DUM-droid hollered and ran over to wrap its arms around the astromech. "I'll protect you, Wait-For!"

"I'll be back or call for you, Wait-For." Ferrigo used his right hand to draw his dark-saber from over his right shoulder, cutting open the cockpit viewport frame on his forward downswing. "Sen'tra laam!" the young Mandalorian quickly crashed helmet-first through the broken cockpit screen, and his range finder arm swung upward into vertical position. Ferrigo flew up into the air above the dust cloud that still hung about the pod and the six beings that stalked the pod from five to twenty steps away in the deep sand.

"What about meeee?" Delrod pleaded to no response.

A bolt of red plasma flew wide to Ferrigo's right. He responded, pointing his right hand index and middle fingers at the target highlighted in his HUD by a bright red halo. The red right gauntlet of the Mandalorian loosed three blaster bolts that tore open the chest, neck and head of a Weequay dressed loosely like a brigand. More blaster bolts were sent toward the hovering Mandalorian.

Ferrigo, still holding his dark-saber in his right hand, dodged and began a sweeping circle. He saw one of the band, a dark haired human, pull his left fist downward as he withdrew a long, dark cylinder with his right hand. Prosstang's jetpack whined and he began to plummet. ''A Force user! Jedi?!''

"KOTYC'GAM!" Ferrigo lifted back away from the group of pirates and fired a dart with a clench of his left hand into a fist. The overpowering explosion of blue energy from the dart and the charring sand sent two beings, one Nikto and one Ithorian, rolling down the side of the dune. Ferrigo deactivated and holstered his dark-saber, turning back to see the smoldering ruin of the Never More. Two other beings, a Nikto and another human, stood about five paces to either side of the dark-haired human who had pale skin.

"It is lost! We have your cargo! We'll be easier on you with your immediate surrender, barve!"

Ferrigo began to fly toward the wreck of the Never More. His HUD showed a flash of darkness immediately before he felt his calves in the powerful grip of the dark-haired man. Jedi!

Instantaneously drawing both of his Taddies and firing them toward his feet where the man held on, the shots missed their marks. The strength of this Force-empowered being was great. Ferrigo felt himself being spun in air and thrown into the sand with great impact. He slid his Taddies back into their holsters on his sudden descent. The dark-haired man landed fifteen paces distance from Prosstang and began to run at him at full speed, nearly floating atop the loose sand. His dark, cylindrical short staff ignited at two ends with amber light as he bore down on Ferrigo, who had risen and drawn his dark-saber in a defensive pose.

Ferrigo's position was compromised and his movement too slow, as the sand still drizzled from his armor. The man's amber blade struck and chirped loudly on impacting the clavicle and left shoulder plates of the Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam. To the shock of the Force-user, the blow was deflected. Ferrigo unleashed a rope of liquid flame that bathed the left side and chest of his attacker. The Mandalorian's HUD showed that the other human and the Nikto approached. With light sabers drawn. Their footfalls on the deep, loose sand also seemed blessed with a lightness that enabled them to close quickly.

The dark-haired man shed his burning cloak with a yell of anger. Ferrigo instinctively turned to his left to face the newcomers to the melee. For a moment he was unsure whether he was dreaming. The Nikto threw his green light saber toward the Mandalorian. It spun end over end. As it neared, Ferrigo leaned to his right and swiftly slashed his whistling purple-glowing black blade at the passing blur of light. A sharp tang and burp of an electrical whine accompanied a shower of sparks. Ferrigo opened his left hand and suddenly he felt the heft of the Nikto's lightsaber in his grasp. The Nikto stopped in his tracks, his feet sinking.

The other human sped forward without caution, as his dark-haired companion opened his left hand and clenched it, facing into the suns to deliver some sort of Force attack against Ferrigo. The Mandalorian's HUD displayed that the neck and collar of his suit system was being compressed, but countermeasures were adjusting the external pressure. The aggressive Jedi-like being was clearly aggravated, and sent a dazzling fork of orange-hued electricity at Ferrigo. The electricity bathed Prosstang, but he waved his left gaunlet until his glove pointed at the dark-haired man.

With a clench of his fist, Ferrigo sent a dart into the man's right leg. The intensity of the lightning grew. The crackling, chirping and buzzing audible as the man screamed in rage. But Prosstang's HUD showed that his suit system had countered and stored this electricity into one of several capacitors. He felt nothing but a slight disturbance around the surfaces of his suit. The other human was in range, blue lightsaber drawn, his hood flopping back to reveal his dark blonde hair. Ferrigo lifted himself from the sand with a short burst and holding thrust of his jetpack.

Both his dark-saber and the Nikto's green light saber clashed and blocked the dark blonde human's fierce attack. Ferrigo smacked the green saber against his opponent's blue saber as the dark-haired man rushed in from his right. The Nikto approached cautiously before clenching his fist. The HUD showed that once again, the flight suit was under pressure, but adjustments were instantaneous. Soon Prosstang was parrying two vicious attackers, one with a double-ended blade. The Nikto continued to stalk the melee from at least ten paces distance before drawing a blaster pistol.

Ferrigo chirped inside his helmet and his jetpack quickly propelled him backward above the dune and curving toward the Never More. After swatting aside blows from both human attackers, he deactivated and sheathed his dark-saber over his shoulder as he departed. The Nikto fired several blasts at Ferrigo, two of them hitting his chestplates solidly and deflecting upward, the last deflected to the left by the Nikto's own lightsaber with a turn of the Mandalorian's left wrist. Thank goodness for the homing beacon mod.

The humans and Nikto soared above the sands in large bounds, making effort to close the distance with the Mandalorian and his smoldering freighter. From the time Ferrigo stood on top of the wreck of the Never More and its attached cargo pods of spice and other goods, he had less than ten counts to issue a series of commands and a brief message for Hondo. Less than ten counts until the Force-users were leaping their way onto the Never More.

Ferrigo redrew his dark-saber and ignited it, waving it and the green lightsaber with countering circular motions. As his feet were mere meters from the top of the freighter, the Nikto fired two blaster - both bolts deflected away to the either side of the Mandalorian. The humans ignited their lightsabers, and all three Force-users landed on the craft. Prosstang launched upward three meters and flipped over backwards, landing five meters further from his pursuers on top of the cargo crates fastened to the top of the YT-1000 freighter.

The men with lightsabers began their rush. Ferrigo pressed a button on his left gauntlet, and leapt backward, again igniting his jetpack. The dark-haired human dropped his dual-saber and clasped his right leg. The other human extended his hand and waved toward himself. Prosstang felt a tug slowing his flight, but his progress continued in lifting above the Force-users. Whirls of purple and green spun in front of him as his wrists turned again and again, deflecting several blaster bolts. A single bolt hit Ferrigo in the left leg, just above a beskar plate below his utility belt. The flight suit smoked from an abrasion as the shot was only partially absorbed. He felt heat and slight pain, but nothing like his past experience on Dellalt.

"Teezil! Get the Mandalorian's legs! Baffar! Secure the cargo until Bezz arrives with our ship!" The Nikto unleashed a series of blaster shot volleys at Ferrigo, who dodged with hip swivels and leg kicks on his retreat as he deactivated and holstered both sabers.

The shades of purple and blue cast from the ridges of the dunes onto their eastern faces as the setting suns slipped lower into western cloud cover. Ferrigo flew around the Never More in a wide circle and saw a red-haloed outline of an approaching heavily armed mid-sized patrol craft in his HUD against the darkening eastern clouds. "Wait-For. Set the Never More to self-destruct. Get yourself and the DUM-droid out of there. I'm heading back to cover you."

As Ferrigo approached within fifty meters, he saw the blue flames of the jet propulsion system of his R4 unit moving toward the gaping socket into which the cockpit had once been locked. The astromech, with the DUM-droid draped over and around its head, settled into the cockpit and slightly illuminated the rough sub-paneling of the Never More. The Force-using pirates were scavenging its cargo. He neared to twenty meters and saw that the patrol craft was within one hundred meters. Its landing lights and a search light illuminated the area.

But the thermal mode on Ferrigo's HUD showed him everything he needed to see. Several objects highlighted in red. The Nikto turned as Ferrigo unloaded a barrage of blaster bolts from his Taddie at all three Force-user targets, who had been unfastening the cargo containers from the top of the Never More. The Nikto fell to the topside as a bolt pierced and shredded his neck. The two humans turned, and the dark-haired human issued an orange fan of electricity that surrounded Prosstang as he hovered. Again, Ferrigo felt no pain nor discomfort. His HUD showed that his system was absorbing the electricity into a storage cell.

Ferrigo balled his right hand into a fist and pointed it downward but toward the two humans. A stream of liquid flame pushed toward the men, but the dark-haired human seemed to be shielding himself and his partner from the attack with an invisible barrier. The pirate patrol vessel closed to twenty meters, its throaty engines roared and its turrets activated with several large red hyphens of energy barely missing Ferrigo. The heat from the blasts warmed Ferrigo.

"Wait-For, how long 'til destruction?!" he snapped in his vocal receptor.

A few short chirps and beeps in response. Ten seconds.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Ferrigo commanded Wait-For, and dodged several red pulses of energy while still being embraced in crackling electricity from the dark-haired Force-user. The heat of two of the blasts from the patrol craft cannons and the Force-user's lightning attack sizzled the sand and grit coating his gear. Wait-For launched upward with great accceleration and spiraled and darted in a variety of directions. Delrod howled and yelled colorfully as he held on tightly to Wait-For.

"What are you doooooiiing, you crazy 'mech?!" the DUM-droid gripped the tops of the legs of R4-W8 as the astromech flitted and dodged red blaster bolts, his own legs and feet dangled and jerked behind the swift motions.

The other Force-user attempted to send a dancing fork of blue lightning at the flittering astromech with his left hand, but to no avail, the electricity retreated to his hand. At the same time, Ferrigo leaned forward and sped his path toward the left side of Baffar, as he was called. He fired a series of gauntlet blasts with both hands pointed toward his target. The Mandalorian scored several devastating hits, though two of the blasts were deflected by the dark-haired Force-user as he stepped into the path of Ferrigo's attack. The deflected blasts bounced off of Prosstang's beskar-threaded suit below his right knee and off of his beskar chestplate. The pain in his right leg was light and easily bearable.

Baffar, his brown jacket riddled with darker blotches, fell off of the topside. His light saber deactivated as it clattered onto the deck and followed its owner further down into the sands below the crashed freighter. Ferrigo landed topside with his dark-saber drawn, swiftly clashing with the spinning amber blades of the dark-haired man.

"You will pay for this bounty hunter!" the man yelled at Ferrigo as he dextrously whirled and landed several blows against the Mandalorian's dark-saber, unleashing a chatter of whining chirps and explosive sizzles. A few of the blows scratched down the dark-saber to spray a shower of sparks on contact with the right shoulder plate of Prosstang's armor. "I've found a weakness!"

Ferrigo quickly launched his jetpack with a command unheard by his opponent. He bore the top front of his helmet into the face of the dark-haired man, stunning him. Two quick clucks of his tongue. "And you'll embrace it!"

The flight of the Mandalorian continued upward and turned righward, away from the patrol ship that again fired in his direction as it lumbered above the crashed freighter and the dark-haired man. He noticed that the craft had two, perhaps three engine-bearing wings, each with mounted cannons.

Ferrigo felt two sharply painful and shuddering flashes that seemed to propel him further ahead as a resounding explosion thundered behind him with several sharp cracks and deep, rolling booms. He fell into the soft sand as pieces of machinery and debris sizzled and whizzed overhead and to his sides. A few pieces struck his armor with loud, harmless clangs. He took several deep breaths. I survived that.

The Pirate Ship
He turned to face the glare of the pulsing, flaming wreckage. The patrol craft had tipped and buried its starboard side into the crest of the large dune near the remains of Ferrigo's destroyed freighter. All that spice. Ferrigo ignited his jetpack again and floated over toward the patrol craft. He alternated visual scan settings on his HUD. Three living beings still inside the cockpit. Light orange halos around them. As he hovered around the port side of the craft from bow to stern, he removed a small, sturdy palm-sized disc from his right cargo pocket and pressed his gloved thumb across a series of buttons on its surface. Ferrigo felt a squeeze of his fingers and hand. ''Gzzzsslllpp. Good to see you, ner sching'ika. You'll have to get back in the pocket. ''

Gzzzsslllpp dropped to the dune below.

''Fierfek! Gzzzsslllpp...I'll come back for you.'' The serpent began to slither in the sands away from the pirate ship.

"Wait-For. Report."

Ferrigo heard a few braps, toots, squickels and woohs. And a few muttered obscenities from Delrod.

"Me too, little buddy. Me too. And you too, Delrod." Prosstang hovered close to the port side of the patrol craft and firmly pressed the flat side of the disc opposite from the keypad against the hull. He inspected the hull briefly for damage. The materials seemed sturdy. "Wait-For. Process the scans I send to you." Ferrigo blinked hard and clicked his tongue against his teeth until his HUD displayed a holoprojected sonar image of the hull and interior spaces, first in two dimensions, then in three dimensions. The series of scans that followed the sonar array included thermal scans overlaid. The port, starboard and keel engine arms had been retracted into the hull, their latent heat confounding several smaller shapes that moved within the vessel. Ferrigo delicately scaled the sloping hull toward the curved crest. He took a deep breath.

-Danger.-

The Mandalorian's visor turned to face the smoldering ruin of his freighter. He saw the track of a small serpent along the crest of the dunes heading toward the Never More. He clicked and clucked his tongue and blinked his eyes in sequence, as he quickly tapped buttons on each of his red gauntlets. He pulled out a small, rectangular cartridge from the left side of the raised housing of his right gauntlet. He placed the cartridge into his wide right thigh pocket, and reached into a pouch on the left side of his utility belt to fetch a replacement cartridge that glowed with green light. He looked below his boots, then up toward the bow as he slid the fresh ammo into the gauntlet with a click. Ready to go again.

Ferrigo dropped down toward the port side rear of the vessel, his boots spread at shoulder width. The chuff of soft sand under his boots on landing was accompanied by a low growl of machinery inside the patrol craft. He drew out another palm-sized scanning disc from his cargo pocket and pressed it firmly into what appeared to be a hatch. HIs HUD processed the new scan source inputs and incorporated it into a composite holoimage of the interior. Seven occupants. From the supplemental data analysis provided by Wait-For, two were Sullustan, one Ithorian, one Weequay, one Klatooinian, one Nikto and one human.

Ferrigo pressed a series of buttons on his right gaunlet. He chirped and clucked into his vocal receptor and confirmed that he had intercepted the patrol craft's comm system frequency. "Set your weapons down at the rear hatch and then move yourselves ten paces back from the hatch and lay chest down on the deck. Failure to do so in the next seven counts will mean great suffering for all of you." The small display in the lower left corner of his HUD showed that scanner registered the faint vibrations of his voice. He could have been heard.

"Seven."

His HUD showed the movement of two thermal energy bodies toward the hatch, bending down and a sound of metal hitting metal was audible.

"Six...Five..."

Two more beings, the Ithorian and either the Weequay or Nikto placed weapons near the rear hatch, and moved away before laying down.

"Four."

"We'll surround him after Bezz jumps him."

"I'm not gonna do that-"

"Three." Ferrigo listened to the conversation as he counted down.

"-you're crazy!" the voice, sounding inflected from a smaller humanoid, likely one of the Sullustan occupants.

"Two."

Two small humanoids and a larger humanoid set weapons down.

Contributions from each of the seven. "One."

From his view in the HUD, all forms seemed to lay prone on the deck away from the hatch. Ferrigo glanced for a moment at the keypad next to the rear hatch of the vessel as a block of Mando'a text scrolled to the left side of his HUD. "Jate." His right hand quickly reaching across his waist removed and activated an electronic device smaller than his hand from one of the leather pouches on his utility belt. Two metal contact antenna extended from the device, which he touched to the bottom edge of the vessel keypad. He tapped a few buttons on his right gauntlet. "Wait-For. I'm sending you a packet of security unit data. I need you to decrypt and return an entry code, one rotation ago."

A wheedle, boops, toots and a few twitters ending with a brap.

Ferrigo smiled. "We don't have time right now. But I'll get you cleaned up when we get back to Nar Shaddaa. Oil bath and all. I promise."

A long bwoop and several melodic chirps and tweets.

"What about me, sir?" the DUM-droid was insistent. "I need TLC too!"

Within ten counts, the device vibrated in his hand. He looked at the small display screen and used his left hand to tap in the matching sequence of symbols. The hatch clicked and pushed inward slightly with a loud gassy hiss. The HUD showed minimal movement. "Don't move. At all," Ferrigo said menacingly after deactivating the device and placing it into its pouch. "I don't want to kill any more of you than I am paid to." He baited the group as he lifted himself up on the hand-hold grooves to the side of the hatch. With his left gloved hand, he tapped a button on his right gauntlet. "Stun."

He could hear mumbling. He reached into the notch in the center of the hatch to grab the handle and turn it clockwise. Clatch. He swung back as the hatch opened with a whirring of gears from the top downward as a ramp. The ramp edge was several feet above the slope of the dune below. Ferrigo flashed his left gauntlet into the vestibule to the port side sweeping toward starboard. His HUD detected no heat signatures in the vestibule, so he swung himself onto the head of the ramp-hatch. His right gauntlet poised to fire on any targets as he moved confidently to the left side of the sliding double door hatch ahead. He removed a four small spheres from his left cargo pocket, crouched down and rolled them gently onto the vestibule deck. He stood up, turned and tapped a series of buttons on his right gauntlet, then pressed the large red button to the left of cargo deck doors. The rangefinder zipped into a downward arc to rest to the right side of the T-visor of Ferrigo's helmet. His HUD displayed seven weapons, two blaster rifles, three blaster pistols and two blaster carbines. The rangefinder quickly returned to an upright position. Prosstang clucked his tongue and spoke after withdrawing several thin rectangular objects from one of his left side pouches with his left gloved hand.

"I'm going to make this as painless as possible. Do exactly as I say," Ferrigo moved to the Ithorian first, sweeping his right gauntlet in defensive arcs toward the other prone pirates as he slid one of the cartridges into a rear pouch worn by the pirate. He moved to the next pirate, the Nikto and did the same, placing a cartridge into a rear pouch. By the time he reached the last pirate, the human, the others had begun to mumble quietly. "Quiet." All of the pirates were male.

Once the distributing of cartridges was complete, he walked to a position near the rear doors and tapped several buttons on his right gauntlet.

In broken Basic, one of the Sullustan pirates looked up. "Why have not locked us?"

Ferrigo strolled a few steps to his left, toward the Ithorian. "I don't need to. Each of you is equipped with an electro-restraining pack. If you move so much as a half step, or lean forward to pick up something you will be feeling...enlightened about your situation. The electricity in each pack is enough to roast you for a Gamorrean bachelor party."

"Why?"

"Why?" Ferrigo retorted. "Because you all decided that it would be a good idea to..." A loud thunk on metal outside the double doors and the vibration of a heavy landing. Ferrigo drew his dark-saber from over his right shoulder and activated it. The seven pirates, still prone on their chests gazed at him as the blade hummed, hooted and chattered eerily as if some complex set of equations was being calculated to enable an utter void of light to be sizzled and made solid by purple swirls of gas and electricity. They had probably never seen the likes of it before. Ferrigo clicked his tongue and squinted his eyes in a sequence.

All could hear a rising shrill of agony outside the doors before Ferrigo tapped the large red button to open the doors.

Captain To The Last
The whirling motion and guttural yell of the charred human form entering through the doors holding a double-ended amber light saber sent light and echoes throughout the dim cargo hold. Ferrigo had attempted a pre-emptive swing of his whipping blade around neck level, having seen in his HUD what had been thoroughly shocked by his extremely effective magnetic spheres in the rear vestibule. The spinning wheel of light created by the Force-user's blades deflected the effort in a convincing show of might and determination. The dark hair was now mostly gone along with outer clothing, but the powerful fury shone in the yellow corona of the man before him. Showers of sparks and abrupt chirps and scrapes of blades coming together filled the space.

Again, the man seethed angrily at Ferrigo and squeezed his left hand into a tight fist as his right hand expertly twisted the short staff lightsaber in a variety of courses. The Mandalorian briefly glanced at the data in his HUD, but the pressure in his suit told him enough about what was happening. The rotating blades were mesmerizing, but Ferrigo felt minimal discomfort.

"Borkas! Lu'chen! Terggol! Take him!"

The larger of the two Sullustans, the Klatooinian and the Nikto each attempted to lift from the floor to charge at Ferrigo. Using the distraction, Ferrigo kicked the Force-user in the chest, knocking him back several feet. A large pulse of orange lightning crackled on and around Ferrigo.

The trio of would-be attackers fell to the cargo deck, shaking and shuddering from the arcing electricity coursing through their bodies. Ferrigo clicked and barked a few commands into his vocal receptor as he forced the pirate to block several two-handed overhead slashes with only his right hand holding the dual-bladed saber in defense.

"Zarek! He has us electrified!" the human shouted.

Backing away from the Force-user after the orange lightning ceased, Ferrigo tapped a button on his right gauntlet with his left glove. All of the prone pirates went into screaming, violent convulsions with a few briefly visible arcs of electricity. "Tell me who hired you!" The Mandalorian kept his dark-saber blade in the protective cross position in front of his chest.

"Your doom!" the man called Zarek, by the other human pirate, yelled at Ferrigo with his charge. Both hands were now on his short staff saber as he engaged the Mandalorian in a series of fierce moves that had Prosstang leaping over and ducking under alternating sweeps of his blades. A flash of amber scraped across the top of Ferrigo's helmet and sprayed sparks with a loud screeching noise.

Ferrigo tapped the same button again, and caused more tormented yells and screams from the deck off to his right. A fraction of a count later, the Mandalorian twisted in his position with an overhead parry as he repelled a somersault leap and rolling attack by Zarek. Chirps and squeaks of saber contacts rang out. After he landed on his feet, the Force-user glared menacingly and shuffled in tightly to Prosstang with his attacks.

"Give in. You are weak, Mandalorian!"

"Kriff you, di'kut!" Ferrigo yelled at the taunt.

At close range and pressed together at the chest, Ferrigo snapped his head forward and smacked Zarek in the face with his helmet. The man growled in pain and backed off several steps, brandishing his saber with a horizontal spin. The Mandalorian scooted his feet and body backward to avoid the blades, a chipping swipe of his armor sprayed sparks across the cargo hold.

"Who's paying you!" Ferrigo yelled.

The Force-user opened his left hand, pointing it toward the Klatooinian before gripping slightly and crossing his hand in front of his chest. The caninoid flew a few feet above the deck toward Ferrigo, yelling in pain and anger as his hurtled body was wracked with electricity. Ferrigo spun around to his right, and snapped his right leg out and around to turn aside the Klatooinian with a boot in the gut. The hapless humanoid groaned as his body slammed onto the grated durasteel deck and rolled over onto his face.

"You are a dead fool, Velrrus!" Zarek spun rightward into Ferrigo with a wicked grin, as his right foot kicked under the Mandalorian's chin while the tip of his right-sided blade slammed into the abdominal plate of Ferrigo's armor. Prosstang grunted, deactivated his dark-saber, staggered then turned into a tight, fast spiral as he pulled Teezil the Nikto's lightsaber from the left side of his belt. Zarek applied further pressure as Ferrigo spun away from his efforts to pierce the space between the front and now presented rear armor panels. The amber saber blade dragged across the beskar, and noisily etched scratches as the Force-using pirate turned right intending to catch his surprisingly fast-moving quarry.

The pirate crouched slightly to begin a leap to the catwalk above and angled his saber staff just below his chest.

"Sap!!" Ferrigo shouted as he flipped the handle of his dark-saber to grip the pommel. The rear holocam display of his HUD showed that Zarek was thralled and jerking from pulses of electricity issued from the dart lodged earlier in his right thigh. With his jetpack facing his enemy, Prosstang activated his personal weapon as he progressed through his own spin, and sent its humming black blade whistling with its purple glow through the chest of Zarek. A fraction of a count later, as the horrified Force-user lifted the handle of his dual blade with his right hand underneath the Mandalorian blade, Ferrigo continued his rotation and ignited the green lightsaber. He swung a clockwise arc and twisted the handle of his dark-saber and jolted the pirate where he stood. Zarek's saber staff dropped with a clatter to the durasteel grate at his feet.

The seven pirates gasped as the head of Zarek landed with a sickening thud and rolled a few meters along the cargo deck toward them near the steps. Several of the pirates could see the look of shock and horror on the sweat, dirt and soot-stained face of their comrade, nervous tics still animating his grey eyes and mouth.

Zarek's body slumped heavily onto the deck moments later as Ferrigo deactivated both of the blades he wielded. He quickly holstered his dark-saber over his right shoulder and hooked the lightsaber back on the left side of his utility belt. He then bent down slowly and deactivated the humming double-bladed staff, and grabbed it with his gloved left hand. Ferrigo walked over to the head of Zarek and picked it up by the hair. He raised it up slowly and showed it to the pirates, the severed neck still glowing and steaming.

"What do you think he's saying? Maybe he's trying to tell us who hired you all?" Ferrigo paced slowly across the width of the cargo hold. "No? I'd recommend you tell me what Zarek was holding out. Or I'm going to end up with a collection of heads to bring to the Black Sun or one of the Hutt clans."

Discoveries & Recoveries
Ferrigo clicked his tongue, blinked and winced to cycle through his HUD display options. He held Zarek and turned the pirate's head for an enduring gaze with his forward cam. A series of Mando'a paragraphs scrolled past to the left side of his HUD. Zarek was a wanted man in Hutt Space.

''Job Code: B515Z-014875. Wanted: DEAD or ALIVE. Merch: Zarek Diossan, aka Zarek. Location: variable. Descrip: human pirate. Other: known killer. Other 2: armed, dangerous, works in groups. Other 3: former Jedi. Reward: Live 1450 peggats or equivalent. Client Number: 28-85647-NH-017. Location: unknown. Special: Dead 506 peggats or equivalent. ''

He was also a marked man with the recently established Republic Correctional Authority.

''Bounty ID: ZD-0101010302-XJG-068412. Name: Zarek Diossan. Known Aliases: Zar Dekko, Zarek Rayy'do. Curr. Location: Unknown. Pref. Disposition: Live. Offenses: Murder, Piracy, Assassination, Extortion, Burglary, Vessel Theft, Conspiracy against Republic, Conspiracy against Jedi Order. Warrants: Gargon, Ryloth, Eriadu, Duros, Sluis Van, Coruscant. Reward: 48,880 GRC. ''

Ferrigo smiled to himself, and set the head near the remaining human. "Turn over onto your backs. Carefully."

"Who are you?" the Nikto asked with a rasping voice as he and the others turned over without being electrified.

Ferrigo glanced at the Nikto. "You, Terggol. Lu'chen, the Klatooinian. The fat Sullustan," he turned to glance for a fourth candidate.

"Hey! Me Borkas!" the heavier-set Sullustan with a long flap of black hair behind his ears snapped with a thick accent. His hands, large for his size, squeezed into fists.

"Got it." Ferrigo walked the grated deck in front of the group and gazed at each of the pirates with his HUD in recording mode. He passed Zarek's corpse often. "And one volunteer."

The Ithorian began to grumble.

"Not you," the Mandalorian brushed his abdominal plate with his left glove. "I need someone else to do some cargo handling." He turned around after nearing the rear doors to the exit hatch vestibule. "Heddo Beragha. You."

The Weequay looked at Ferrigo.

Prosstang tapped several buttons on his right gauntlet. "The four of you. Pick Zarek clean of anything of value and drop him outside about ten paces in the soft sand. Then, you have some loading to do. Head to the Corellian freighter wreck and move the remaining cargo cubes into the hold here. If you move too far from the path between this ship and the other, you can count on being fried."

"What if fall on ahk-see-dent?" Borkas asked plaintively.

"Not allowed." Ferrigo's amplified voice was unsympathetic.

"What about us?" the human asked. "What are we gonna do?"

"Patience." Prosstang kept an eye on his HUD, cycling through his views and data. "Time for Zarek's farewell. Along with Teezil and Baffar. Cargo team, get moving." The Mandalorian flipped his right gloved hand with the saber staff toward the exit doors and gruesomely set Zarek's head on top of the logistics officer station. "Human. Get me a bacta jar large enough to hold this."

Twenty minutes later, Zarek's headless body had been dumped down the side of the tall dune and the salvaged cargo had been loaded. In the meantime, Ferrigo had interrogated and roughed up Bezz, the smaller Sullustan, along with Chodo Adido the Ithorian and Seeff Bandridge, the Onderonian human. Use of Zarek's saber staff had been effective as a threat to mark them, but he had no need to use it to gain the information he sought. Zarek was a pirate, supposedly banished by the Jedi Order before attaining Knighthood. It was Zarek who had hired the crew, two years ago. They primarily raided spice shipments, but also took on other jobs as Zarek got them. "Okay, that's the last of the containers," Ferrigo slowly swept the deactivated staff in a semi-circle. "Which of you are flight crew?"

The smaller Sullustan, Bezz, spoke with a heavy accent. "I fly Velrrus."

"I was co-pilot when Teezil, Baffar or Zarek couldn't pilot," Heddo Beragha volunteered. "I can fly this old bucket."

Bezz glared at the Weequay. "I be better pilot dan Heddo."

Ferrigo turned to look at the other pirates. He silently commed Wait-For to scan for Gzzzsslllpp and bring the serpent to the pirate ship rear ramp. Ferrigo tapped a series of buttons on the keypad of each cargo-loaded repulsorsled. He clucked his tongue and silently encrypted links between the sleds and the transmitters of the pirates he chose to join him on the trip into Mos Eisley.

After the astromech and DUM-droid arrived and were admitted into the cargo hold, Wait-For tooted and chirped cheerfully. After he opened a panel along his right side, the small, bright green serpent slid out of Wait-For onto the deck and up Ferrigo's left leg. The schinga made his way to the Mandalorian's utility belt before wrapping himself tightly around the handle of Teezil's lightsaber.

"Alright. Bezz, you're piloting this ship. Heddo, you will be co-piloting. My astromech will navigate."

"What about the rest of us?" Seeff Bandridge, the human asked.

"Yes, sir, what about us?" Delrod added.

Ferrigo looked around the cargo hold. "Each of you will have plenty of space. Stay away from each other. Unless you want to get electrocuted." He then walked around to the staircase leading up to the flight deck.

"Sir?" Delrod followed Ferrigo. "You don't mean me, sir, do you?"

The Mandalorian's helmet looked back and slightly down with a slow shake.

Born to Treachery and Profit
Ferrigo instructed Bezz to take off carefully from the dune and head for one of the flat areas near Mos Eisley. Wait-For plugged in his scomp link interface rod and communicated with the ship, The Pride of Lorell. The ship comm system crackled to life with a voice speaking Huttese, probably a Nikto male.

"Do pankpa-maskey an panksta wabdah lawahkee." Ferrigo understood that the traffic control wanted identification and clearance code for landing, but said nothing at first as Bezz and Heddo looked at him..

Ferrigo turned to Bezz and then Heddo, shrugging. "I don't understand that language."

The Sullustan spoke up in Huttese as he tapped and held a green button. "Prydah du Lorlah. HN-934LF. Jee-jee lawahkee RDI230."

As the ship passed a few kilometers to the east of Mos Eisley heading north, Ferrigo provided clear instruction to Bezz on landing the ship when the comm was not engaged for sending.

"Prydah du Lorlah. Do pankpa lawah ootmian plassa cheesa Mos Eisley. Jee-jee plassa do pagwa."

Bezz looked at Ferrigo and pressed the transmit button. "Thank you, traffic control."

The Sullustan landed the ship as instructed, the landing gear engaged and holding the vehicle firmly level despite the cool evening winds that buffeted the pirate ship.

"Wait-For, you and the crew will stay with the ship," Ferrigo shifted to look at the pilot. "Bezz and Delrod are coming with me. Come on Heddo. You're heading to back to third class with the others."

The DUM-droid chuckled and guffawed. "Yeah, Heddo. Just because you're horny-"

Ferrigo gently pounded the bottom of his left fist on top of the raised center of the cheeky droid's saucer-shaped head as they ascended the three steps to exit the flight deck.

"Hey!" Delrod protested as the group continued down the corridor past the open engine compartments to either side of the rail. "Oooh! Those are incredibly ancient engines." The open metallic claws of the DUM-droid regarded the engines. "Kuati, I presume?"

The smug tone of the repair droid caused the Weequay to chuckle. After getting downstairs to the cargo deck and the open doors to the vestibule, Ferrigo instructed Heddo to join the rest of the pirate crew in having a seat on the floor.

"What are you going to do, Vaylrooss?" Borkus growled.

Prosstang tapped a series of buttons on his right gauntlet. He then briefly tapped a single button, causing all of the pirates except Bezz to jerk and scream as a jolt of electricity zapped through their bodies.

"You. Borkas. Lu'chen. Get up. You're gonna join me and Bezz, and sled the cargo to the customs house," Ferrigo looked over the lot of pirates and Delrod. "Don't any of you get any ideas of moving too much outside your range. No hugs, no escape attempts, no detours. Bad for your health." Ferrigo exited from the ship with the Sullustans, Klatooinian and DUM-droid hauling the two repulsor sleds of medical supplies and spice down the rear ramp.

Ferrigo, Bezz, Borkas, Lu'chen and Delrod left The Pride of Lorell behind and walked with the humming repulsorsleds toward the interspersed lights of Mos Eisley, a sparsely populated spaceport town with a rough-and-tumble reputation. From the scrolling data along the left side of his HUD display, Prosstang gathered that Mos Eisley was barely fifty years old. The low-grade duracrete, stone and plastoid architecture and fierce desert climate aged the town quickly. The center of town was now visible from its infamous point of origin, the deeply planted wreckage of a colony ship, the Dowager Queen from Bestine IV. Lights from below strategically lit the wreckage, while most of the buildings had basic, minimal lighting near their entrances.

"Where we going?" Bezz asked.

They walked past the Dowager Queen to their right, and followed a rightward curve, practically being led by the repulsorsleds as Ferrigo programmed them. When the group and the sleds arrived at a large cylindrical duracrete tower Ferrigo held up his right glove and closed it into a fist. "Stop."

The Mandalorian looked around, his T-visor caught some of the minimal light from the surroundings as he set into the entry nook to press several keys on the door security pad. He also removed the cargo datacard and a few small objects from one of his pant pouches.

"Spasteeka bunkadinkee," the interior lighting showed the left side of a human face that had been aged severely by the primary stars. "Ah, Mister Velrrus."

Ferrigo placed the cargo datacard, one dull credit chip and two bright credit chips into the puzzled man's left hand as it lifted from his waistline. Prosstang then nodded. "Good evening, Jakoppo. I have help from Anurgga on this run."

"Really? I heard you two had bad blood between you. I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again." The customs officer pocketed the credit chips and tucked the card into his holopad. "So, what does Warrior Lust Trading Company have in store this night?" The tall, thin and weather-beaten human then peered around Prosstang to see the group and the two repulsorsleds. A cone of light emitted from the back of the man's holopad to enable a cursory inspection of the crew and battle-worn medium-sized secured containers. "Eight containers of medicine for aquatics from Brilliant Pharmaceuticals. The bill of lading says thirteen containers from Nar Shaddaa. I'm sorry, this can't be a clean bill, Mister Velrrus. And so much help for a small load, don't you think?"

"I do think, Jakoppo. So you don't have to." The Mandalorian placed another shiny credit chip into the hand of the grinning customs officer. "The load was supposed to be split out to include another destination. I'm not an accountant or secretary. I guess the staff on their end needs to learn a few things about bills of lading. To us at Warrior Lust Trading, and the customer, it's all the same. We ship our goods where they're supposed to go, on time and safely."

"Exactly," the customs officer ignored the obvious damage on the exterior of the containers. "Take the goods to Cargo Bay E-6. It's now unlocked."

"Thanks, Jakoppo." Prosstang tucked his thumbs into his utility belt.

"Don't mention it. Shift change in twenty minutes." Ferrigo nodded as Jakoppo tucked himself back inside his office and closed the door.

Ferrigo pointed for the crew to move the sleds to the back area where the storage facilities lined a widening alley. The Mandalorian paced slowly behind the group and watched them carefully. He looked for any quirks or lingering signs of past injuries in the way the pirates moved or handled the equipment. Ten minutes later, the tiny bay was full to the extent that Borkas had difficulty as he exited over and around the containers.

"Tight feet," Borkas growled.

"Okay, boys. Borkas, Lu'chen, take the sleds back to the ship. Bezz and I are going to take Delrod on a short tour. We should be back within half an hour." Ferrigo continued menancingly. "Don't take any detours or you'll suffer some enlightening consequences."

Ferrigo, Delrod and Bezz walked around to the right as Borkas and Lu'chen headed back the way the group entered town. The Ubrikkian Trade Tower to their right, Prosstang motioned Bezz and Delrod to turn left. They passed the water treatment plant on their left and ventured to the right of the street, shown as Spacers Row in Ferrigo's HUD, to pass between small, low-profile buildings. Ferrigo stopped before the door of a square-shaped building. His HUD indicated that significant underground construction had been at the foundation of Mos Eisley.

''Raalee. Come on, Babe. Answer the door. I miss seeing you and Reggar.''

Prosstang tapped the guest alert button to the right side of the entrance and stepped back two steps, glancing to either side and upward into the dark night. The stars were fully visible and dazzling. He returned his gaze to the door. Bezz and Delrod had stepped back to the sides of the Mandalorian. The door slid open. A Quarren male stood in the doorway.

"Velrrus. She is gone. With child. Taken."

Ferrigo pushed his way into the apparently small hovel. Bezz, Delrod and then the Quarren followed after the door slid shut.

"Nedd. I trusted you to take care of her and protect her and her child," Prosstang's vocal emitter accentuated the coldness in his voice. "Who took them?"

"He said he was an agent of the Brilliant Chemicals Company. That Raaleena's relations needed to see her immediately to discuss the mining rights of their land holdings. On Ryloth."

"Who was he?" Ferrigo turned slightly and paced across the living room toward the wall with the entry door. Ferrigo looked carefully around the room as he cycled through his various scan settings. He felt his right cargo pocket shift slightly.

The Quarren stammered, his mouth tentacles swinging loosely.

My instructions were clear, Nedd. And why didn't you notify me...when I could have done something about this?"

The Quarren shuddered slightly. Bezz looked up at Ferrigo and then back to the Quarren.

"I think toasted squid is on the menu," Delrod folded his arms and shifted his feet.

Ferrigo regarded the droid for a moment and returned his gaze to Nedd Madoro. "Why shouldn't I fry you, Nedd? You're not telling me who took her." His pants pocket moved and seemed to tug away from his leg.

The Sullustan spoke quickly in Huttese to the Quarren. Ferrigo felt a firm push into the area just above his right rear pocket. Ferrigo began to turn his head down toward the right. He saw Gzzzsslllpp on the floor as the schinga picai slithered toward the right boot of Bezz.

"Don't do it Velrrus. Keep your arms and hands down," Bezz blurted. "I put a blaster hole in you that will leave your right leg behind."

"This does not look good, Master Velrrus." Delrod warned him of the obvious, as Nedd drew a hold-out blaster from his right side jacket pocket and aimed it at Ferrigo with what appeared to be a smile amid facial tentacles that danced slowly.

"I'll have to agree, Delrod," Prosstang said calmly. "These two are in over their heads. Might lose them soon if they don't wise up and put their weapons away." Gzzzsslllpp crawled onto the small pirate's boot.

"Your words don't scare me," Bezz trembled slightly as he spoke. Pointed snout of the small green schinga seemed to move quickly up to the back of the Sullustan's knee. "Aaaarggghh!!"

"I know," Ferrigo grinned wickedly, unseen. "But my actions..."

Ferrigo spun quickly to Bezz and lowered, as his elbow landed firmly into the soft, blubbery flaps above the Sullustan's mouth. A searing hot pain shot through the Mandalorian from above his right hind quarter into his shoulders, arms and legs. Nedd Madoro squeezed a shot into Prosstang's abdomen to the left and below the beskar plate. Ferrigo grimaced and gasped in pain as he pressed the button on his right gauntlet. Bezz shrieked in pain and his body flew forward into the table in front of the Quarren, who continued to fire blaster rounds. The vibrations and searing pain caused Ferrigo to jerk and stagger toward the Quarren. A bright flash and a slight crack formed in his visor. His HUD blinked in and out several times.

Ferrigo strode through his pain around the table as the Quarren continued to pull the trigger without any remaining charges. "Traitor." Prosstang grabbed the Quarren and struggled to disarm him as he turned his body to face Bezz, who was almost out the door with the now-deactivated DUM-droid under his right arm. Nedd elbowed Ferrigo to minimal effect against the beskar plates. The Mandalorian drew on a deep reserve of strength as he grappled the Quarren into a rearward left arm lock. HIs gloved left hand cupped the neck of the aquatic humanoid, as his right hand held the right wrist of Raalee's traitorous ward straight out.

"You'll never get away with this!" Nedd Madoro shouted.

Prosstang gritted his teeth and lifted his knee into the mid back of the Quarren, immediately pushing his head and body toward the tabletop in front of them. Once the momentum had Madoro nearly bent fully at the waist, Ferrigo lifted all of his weight off of his feet and drove the Quarren face-first into the table. The table was sturdy but inexpensive and proved no match for the power of the Mandalorian and Quarren, cracking in line with the impact.

Ferrigo turned the Quarren over and punched the sides of his face with hard blows until he heard the cracking and separation of cartilage. The Quarren sniveled, shrieked, moaned and sprayed out black fluid toward the Mandalorian.

"The name." Prosstang growled as the vibroblade slid out from its housing in his right gauntlet and held it to the neck of the bleeding Quarren beneath him on the broken table. "...and I'll spare your life."

Madoro gasped and gargled a mix of blood and ink. His glare bore deeply on Prosstang. "Hondo."

Ferrigo tapped a recently-used button on his right gauntlet. "You were working for him. So were the others who took me out with this shipment," he paused a drew back his blade. "Am I wrong?"

The Quarren shook his head slowly.

Prosstang punched his blade into the throat of Nedd Madoro and forcefully pushed his fist and arm to the right. The Quarren's eyes opened wide, blood pulsed and flowed freely down the slope of the broken table and pooled quickly on the floor rug underneath. Webbed hands with three fingers grasped at Ferrigo's legs and waist without being able to clench, until the movement stopped. He pocketed the hold-out blaster used by the Quarren and stood up over the now-dead humanoid.

Such unprofessional work.

Ferrigo shook his head. "Skragger." After securing the Quarren's detached head in a sack and fastened it to his utility belt, Ferrigo picked a familiar piece of cloth off of a hook on the wall and ran out of the hovel. He pulled a small tubular canister out of a loop on the front his utility belt and turned it toward his visor with his thumb and middle finger. He then depressed a button and sprayed his visor with a solvent. His other hand gripped a small nano-fiber cloth that soaked up the solvent as well as the Quarren ink and blood. Prosstang pocketed the soiled cloth with an unheard grunt of disgust.

The Mandalorian clicked his tongue and squinted a number of times. The left side of his HUD displayed Mando'a text about his surroundings, as the right side showed a faint map of the district and a moving pulsing dot of red light. "Gzzzsslllpp," Ferrigo said softly, aloud, then activated the series of motion detection modes in his HUD. ''Hope you're okay little buddy. May we meet again.''

Ferrigo momentarily closed his eyes and pressed the same button on his right gauntlet that he had used earlier, this time for two counts. He opened his eyes. The red dot came to a stop until he released the button. Prosstang continued to walk in the general direction of Zarek's ancient starcraft. When the dot moved again toward the edge of town and the pirate ship, the Mandalorian held the button down for three counts. The red dot seemed to move to slightly at an angle toward the ship and edge of town. Ferrigo held the button for five counts. Horrific screams of pain were now audible. The red dot was now moving away and parallel to the edge of town, Ferrigo continued his brisk striding to the outskirts.

''You'd better find another ride home, Bezz. The Pride of Lorell is mine.''

The Search For Raalee (48 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“If you promise not to hurt my son, I will stay with you. I want to see the galaxy, and learn your trade.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Oh, no-no-no-no tch-tch-tch…Young lady, I do not have a trade. I have a…take. And I find you, rather much to my liking. Velrrus was a fool to leave a jewel like you all alone. With a little boy.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I’m sure he has others to attend to. I am out to see the stars, and travel to them. I want my son to live in a galaxy of the possible. Not stuck on a burning rock.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Well, with me, my pretty companion, you will see many things. I will be sure of that.” ''

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Raaleena’warlan, eighteen year-old noble Twi’lek mother, freed-slave, and aspiring galactic traveler expresses her wish to the young Weequay pirate, Hondo Ohnaka as his ship takes them far from Tatooine.

Departing Tatooine Along the Old Corellian Run
Ferrigo had instructed Wait-For to link with Deevee-Eight as soon as possible, and in the meantime to establish a comm link signal track to Delrod and Raalee's DUM-droid, Go-Ferd. If he could establish core encrypted communications with either of the droid sentinels, he was to provide them with instructions to periodically upload video, audio and other environmental data.

According to Wait-For, Delrod was still on Tatooine, likely near Mos Eisley. The Pride of Lorell was heading toward Ryloth, with Ferrigo in the pilot seat. Several of the stations were slaved to Wait-For. Heddo Beragha, the Weequay was in the co-pilot seat, breathing heavily as he gripped his hands. The astromech chirped and tweeted loudly.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue to shift to a private channel with his astromech. "Wait-For," the Mandalorian turned his helmet slightly toward the rear of the flight deck. "Can you get us a more direct course to Ryloth than the Hutt Highway?"

Wait-For chirped, booped and whooed.

"Okay, so what's the hold up?"

More boops, braps and chuts.

"Calculate this ship's ability to take the high road or the low road, then. I want to get to Ryloth yesterday, ner vod." After half a minute, while Beragha tapped a few buttons on the console in front of his station, R4-W8 reported with a series of affirmative sounds.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "Good. Beragha, you know the capabilities of this ship?" Ferrigo gazed firmly at the pirate.

"Yes...sir." the Weequay looked at Ferrigo with a weary concern. "Was it necessary to electrocute us?"

"Wait-For, set the course and send us to Ryloth. We have no more time to lose." For a moment, Ferrigo ignored the question from the Weequay.

"What's the hurry, sir?" Beragha enquired as delicately as he might.

"Precious cargo has been taken from me. There will be a price to pay." The Mandalorian spoke with a chill in his voice as the ship lurched momentarily before the hyperdrive engaged and stretched their reality into a tunnel of illuminated cosmic gasses. "Your punishment was his punishment. The misdeed of one, the suffering of all."

"A bounty?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Ferrigo said drily.

"I want to serve you goodly, Velrrus. You're powerful man defeating Zarek Diossan. More powerful than any of us," the Weequay seemed dumbfounded. "And you got reputation for making good money."

Ferrigo raised his voice inquisitively. "Who would say such a thing about my money?"

"Hondo Ohnaka."

Ferrigo nodded, then turned on a switch. The flight deck was filled with the sounds of groans and mutters from the crew in the cargo hold. The Weequay turned to speak.

Prosstang rose from the pilot seat after removing the safety harness, and flicked off the switch. "Consider your next words carefully, Heddo. You know that I have little patience for fools. Or for losing ten containers of raw, refined and processed spice."

"Sir," the pirate spoke delicately. "Hondo Ohnaka don't have stakes in Ryloth. He's holed up in the Sertar Sector, off the Shaltin Tunnels."

Ferrigo stood sidewise and glanced at Heddo Beragha, his T-visor now with a slight crack fixed on the Weequay, who shifted nervously in his seat. "I'll take that into account," Ferrigo adjusted his gauntlets with his gloved hands. "If your memory improves on which planet Ohnaka is operating from, that would be great. I have some gratitude I'd like to share with him." The pirate began to return his attention to the forward viewscreen. "And, Beragha, don't try anything funny. I can clean or repair the upholstery you sit on."

"Yes, sir."

After reaching the cargo deck, Ferrigo turned and stood at the rear main doors and faced the sitting or prone pirate crew. "We haven't been properly introduced to each other. I'm Redar Velrrus," Ferrigo shifted, folded his gauntlets across each other and looked at the Ithorian to his left. "Tell me about yourselves, starting with you." His right index finger pointed to the Ithorian.

The Ithorian grumbled in a variety of tones. The Nikto spoke up, "He's Chodo Adido. Been with the group for half a year. He's sharp with tracking records."

"And you speak Ithorian?" Ferrigo gently rested his thumbs and palms atop his utility belt pouches. "Your name?"

"Terggol," the Nikto allowed his eyes to gaze at the Mandalorian. "I speak a little Ithor. I know more about spice than anyone else here."

Ferrigo stood still, as his HUD still processed information about Chodo Adido as the Ithorian gurgled and grumbled. He then blinked on the data for Terggol. The Mandalorian shifted his stance and pointed to the Klatooinian. "You."

The caninoid snapped gruffly. "Lu'chen, obviously Klatooinian. Been with this band for two years. Mostly muscle," he continued, somewhat embarrassed. "...and blowin' stuff up."

Ferrigo nodded, then pointed casually at Borkas.

"I Borkas. Strong man. Cargo carry. And cook food sometimes for crew."

"Good to know," Ferrigo pointed to the human.

"I'm Seeff, and I know the mechanics of this ship inside out. Sometimes I helped Zarek collect intel on targets, and lured women to become part of the...fun." Aside from Borkas, the other pirates laughed.

Ferrigo nodded. "And I've heard Heddo's story. For now, you are staying with this ship. I will think about how you fit into my plans," a lengthy pause followed by a gentle gesture toward a clear cylindrical bacta jar that contained Zarek Diossan's head. "Don't cross me. Bezz Yangali's head will be joining this one right here. You can place bets on it from the wages I will cut for each of you."

"Wages. What might those look like?" Seeff asked cheekily.

"You'll be compensated handsomely if I hire you on," Ferrigo turned his helmet to regard each member. "But you have to prove your trustworthiness and dependability in following orders and getting work done and done right." He paused for a few seconds and heard questions in his mind. "It will be a while before I can trust you well enough to let you carry out your work without restraint."

The remainder of the journey to Ryloth, Ferrigo checked in on Heddo and Wait-For periodically as he settled into the captain's quarters. Zarek's gear had been set into a large container with the assistance of Seeff and Terggol without incident. When finally settled, and the crew aside from Heddo returned to their spots in the cargo hold, Ferrigo spent a few hours as he removed, cleaned, repaired and maintained his suit, armor and gear. He brushed a liquid beskar polymer on the seared areas of his flight suit then used his gauntlet flame unit ignition to heat and seal the polymer into the frayed threading. Similarly, he used another bonding gel along the outside of his cracked visor, and then heated it with the flame unit.

''It will have to do. For now.''

He let the equipment set, jumped into the refresher for a shower and then put all of his equipment on again. The Mandalorian also took apart his blasters, using a variety of tools and brushes to clean them before reassembling the weapons.

Arrival at the Lohemian Vale and Lohemaryll
Ferrigo and Heddo coordinated the Ryloth landing with the local traffic control. Globally, Ryloth did not have much of an authority on security for interstellar ships departing nor arriving. In many ways, Ryloth was a perfect haven for illicit activity. On the habitable portion of Ryloth that was neither baked nor frozen, life was still hot, mostly barren with a few oases tucked into valleys of windswept sandstone. According to the feed provided into his helmet HUD by the ship systems and Wait-For, the Vale of Lohema was where Raalee's DUM-droid signal was located.

As The Pride of Lorell rolled into keel-down position through the clouds and over the terrain below, the keel extension arm retracted and their repositioned engines provided additional lift control. Ferrigo adjusted several controls in front of the pilot seat. Wait-For beeped and chirped melodically. The Lohema region was sparsely populated with a few small, but densely packed settlements located near the deeper pockets of a small river that had minimal docking facilities but ample opportunity for fishing. The largest of these, Joreikna, was a few kilometers below in a valley to the starboard side. As their descent steepened toward the southwest, the ship's viewscreen heads-up display accentuated the visible locations of Lohema and Lohemaryll, two small mining towns less then ten kilometers from Joreikna.

Raalee had told Ferrigo that this area of Ryloth once belonged to her clan, and that she would have liked to have showed him its beauty. He smiled. It was indeed breathtaking. Sizable residential buildings organically extended from gentle slopes toward, and even against the faces of steep escarpments. He had heard that mining in the area was active and quite productive. Precious metals, minerals, gemstones and ryll. The lifeblood of the Spice Triangle.

Above the majority of buildings along the north bank of the river, The Pride of Lorell gently hovered and turned at Ferrigo's touch of the controls. Heddo engaged the landing gear as the other extension arms folded and retracted into the hull. The ship settled onto the deeply ensconced landing deck of reinforced durasteel grating with a loud metallic klung.

"Powering down," the Weequay said. "All engines cooling."

Prosstang removed the pilot seat restraints and stood on the flight deck. "Stay here, Heddo. I'll call you if I need you."

Wait-For turned his head, chutted and tooted.

"You too, Wait-For. Hang tight and monitor the ship systems." Ferrigo continued down toward the cargo deck as his astromech protested lightly in his wake. The pirate crew stirred slightly as Ferrigo nodded and told them to remain still. He exited out the rear hatch and ramp, closing the hatch behind him.

Ferrigo walked away from the setting primary, and cast a long shadow as he approached a small building that contained a large rock with irridescent green veins that shimmered under the small ceiling lights. He continued around a rightward curve, toward the south, between two banks of low-rise buildings. Ahead and to the left he could see the cobbled street move past several security offices before it plunged toward a wide and sturdy gate. To his right he could see a wide opening with a sign above that indicated the main part of town. A group of Twi'leks, some pale tan, some blue and a few green walked toward him from the opening. They wore silken fabrics that would be considered luxurious and expensive in most systems.

The group stopped and among them a green Twi'lek male regarded Prosstang with a gesture. "What is this? You are an odd one, outlander."

Ferrigo turned slightly. "Warlaan. Where can I find the Warlaans?"

The green Twi'lek became very nervous and his friends seemed to gather closer to him for his protection. "You are not welcome here. Return to where you came from."

"I've come here for my slave. She was kidnapped by pirates off-world. I believe she was brought here."

"If we could cry for your plight, we would not. Lohemaryll is a peaceful town. Move along." The green Twi'lek male gained confidence.

"I'll do that, as I please." Ferrigo turned and walked away from the group, through an interior shopping arcade with a number of doorways and side passages to either side. Faint light from the primary filtered down through a wide opening in the ceiling, and he noticed a Twi'lek guard that paced on the level above. The signs above the doorways were in the Twi'leki language. He passed under a raised small portcullis that marked the beginning of a slight downward slope to the west between the walls of an urban gorge. Taller buildings rose from lower elevations in the distance around a gentle northerly curve that split into a two-pronged fork. A large animated sign of white and shades of green displayed a dancing Twi'lek female above the open doorway of the building to his immediate right.

A cantina.

Prosstang walked around a large stone that seemed to provide the base for the duracrete entrance platform and walked up the ramp that approached the three story tall building set into what appeared to be a citadel portcullis from the west. Silently, he activated his weapons systems and then crossed the entrance threshold to the left of the platform.

A large hand rested on his right shoulder plate. In broken Basic, the large pale pink Twi'lek male rasped at Ferrigo. "No blaster weapon here. Must check in with authority."

Prosstang spoke casually. "Where's that?"

The bouncer stepped outside the threshold and pointed west. 'Walk many steps to very tall tower. On right side. In there."

''The flight control tower. I must have snuck past the control officer while sleepwalking.''

Ferrigo continued to stroll about the narrow lanes of the town which again was striking for its organic, sinuous landscape and building forms with some featuring sharply contrasting roof or window elements. After he relaxed the seals of his helmet, he was impressed by Lohemaryll's layers of complexity in sights, sounds and smells. So many shops with a variety of goods, foods, services and levels of clientele served. So many species represented on its streets.

After an hour, young Prosstang was fairly certain he had covered the entire area of town within the fortress walls of duracrete-covered reinforced durasteel. He had overheard partial conversations and recorded his tour. After conducting a quick HUD sweep from the time he entered a modest restaurant offering strongly spiced local dishes, he decided to purchase dinner and find lodging for the night. Ferrigo silently commed The Pride of Lorell.

"Heddo," Ferrigo said softly. "This is Velrrus. I am picking up Twi'leki food for dinner. I am going to send you my location. I want you and Lu'chen to meet me at this restaurant and help me carry the order back to the ship."

"Got it, sir," Heddo Beragha continued after a pause. "Are we gonna be shocked?"

"Not if you both follow the directions I give you," the Mandalorian scolded gently. "The food here smells great. Get moving in five."

Ferrigo ordered and paid for enough food and beverage for everyone aboard the ship.

Tracking Another Dummy
He strolled toward the entrance to the restaurant and looked at the poorly-lit street outside. He looked to the left and saw the large gatehouse, perhaps as many as four stories tall with upper floor stepbacks. The periodic pulses of red and soft white lights from communications antennae were visible at a few locations in the distance. He adjusted his HUD camera to zoom in on the large gatehouse raised portcullis, as a pair of Twi'lek males wearing tunics of glimmering fabric entered from the river district of town. Between the two humanoids, a DUM-droid stepped obdurately.

Ferrigo tuned his audio receptors and adjusted his camera settings, as he stepped back into the restaurant entryway. He stepped inside the restaurant and walked to the counter. "I have some friends, including a Weequay, who will pick up the order in a few minutes. Thank you." He then turned about and exited the restaurant. Switching channels, he commed the ship again. "Heddo, you and Lu'chen will have to pick up the food. I'll be back at the ship as soon as possible."

"What is it, Velrrus?" the Weequay asked.

"Business."

Ferrigo picked up his pace to follow the pair of Twi'lek males and the high-stepping DUM-droid. He refined his audio inputs again to increase the volume and clarity.

"We can tell your father that she has been found," the shorter of the two turned to look at his companion. "And that we have her companion droid."

"She has not been found. We only have the word of a drunken Weequay pirate that another Weequay pirate gave him this droid," the taller Twi'lek responded.

"The armored stranger earlier. He asked for your family. And that a pirate had taken his slave. Your sister was kidnapped by the Rooshans, right?"

"Maybe," the taller Twi'lek cautioned. "But maybe not. She wanted to leave here, and leave Ryloth."

"In any event, Rolen, your family wants her return. Don't you?" the shorter, lighter-skinned Twi'lek asked.

"Baiks. I know that you wanted her hand in marriage. Maybe you don't see that she wanted something more than home."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, the smaller pale Twi'lek grunted. "Raaleena agreed to marry me. Before she was taken away."

The DUM-droid spoke up and used its claws to emphasize its commentary. "Uhhh. She was a slave. She loves a human, who freed her. She has a child by the human. She was kidnapped by pirates on Tatooine. The human is almost certainly armed, dangerous...and looking for Ms. Raaleena."

Ferrigo considered blasting the DUM-droid with an aimed shot if it started to divulge information about Schingo Velrrus; but he wanted to know Raalee's whereabouts.

"That seems to suggest what the armored stranger said is true," the shorter Twi'lek said, somewhat dejected.

"That stranger was looking for a slave. Not a free woman."

The pale Twi'lek, Baiks, paused and rubbed his chin and uttered slowly. "He...might be...looking for this droid."

Ferrigo activated his jetpack and thrust into the air, twisting around to face the pair of Twi'leks after he passed over them. He made a soft landing on the grassy cobblestones of the eastward slope leading toward the shopping arcade. "I am looking for Raaleena'warlaan."

The Twi'lek were stunned. "Stranger! Who are you?!"

"Quiet. I was hired to recover Raaleena'warlaan and her son," Ferrigo spoke without emotion.

The taller, green-skinned Twi'lek raised his voice. "You said you were looking for your slave."

"I've told you as much as you need to know," the Mandalorian leveled his index finger at the pair of Twi'leks. "Where is the cantina? The one where you met the Weequay and got this droid?"

The DUM-droid cheerfully blurted. "I can show you! Follow me!" The small droid turned about and began to strut proudly away.

Ferrigo walked around the two Twi'leks, until his right shoulder was caught by the taller, green Twi'lek. "We won't let you take her back. She will be free."

"Take your hand off me," Ferrigo said icily. "She and her son will be free. I will let you know when I find them. Go back to your home."

The smaller of the two Twi'leks shook his head, his lekku moving around his chest. "Rolen, we can't leave her fate to this stranger. We must find Raaleena."

Ferrigo stood a bit taller. "I work alone. Don't need to have either of you get in the way or get hurt. Now go home where you will be safe." Prosstang quickly drew his right-side Taddie blaster and backed away from the Twi'leks. "Go home."

The Dizzy Bucket Cantina
The DUM-droid continued ahead and Ferrigo turned and quickened his pace to catch up. The droid hummed and mumbled some sort of tune as it marched around the curve heading toward the main gatehouse. Ferrigo observed the pair of disgruntled Twi'leks in his HUD display from the rear camera. By the time he arrived at the gatehouse, Ferrigo had holstered his blaster and caught up to the DUM-droid. The guard above the gate waved a few pairs of other beings to enter the citadel as the Mandalorian and the strutting maintenance droid headed the opposite direction into the village.

"What's your name, droid?"

"You named me. Don't you remember?" the maintenance droid sounded perturbed. "Let me guess," the droid's claws opened, waved and clicked as they walked. "You added one too many droid escorts to manage your growing stable of concubines." The single optical receptor turned and raised to regard Ferrigo as they walked casually through several low-rise residential neighborhoods that hugged a gently curving road. The street was punctuated by side passages and the occasional tapcaf or closed mercantile shop, and they crossed the gently-arched ferrosteel-framed duracrete bridge across the rushing Lohema River.

"Rocky," Ferrigo stated blankly. "You have a rather sharp vocabulator."

The droid did not answer.

Soon they entered a section of Lohemaryll that seemed rougher, the streets less-well illuminated and littered with rubbish. The level of detail and care of the buildings was remarkably less. A wide series of escarpments under pink and blue clouds reflected a deepening sunset. Under these crags rose the tall, distressed ferrosteel walls of a small fortress in the background of the worn two- and three-story apartment buildings ahead. From one of the nearby buildings, beams of colored light flashed outward from the shallow entry vestibule of a cantina that pulsed with the rhythm of searing Yerk music. The Twi'leki sign above the door read DZ-Bouquet. A faded and roughly-painted logo intended to be a collection of flowers was partially obscured by evidence of repeated vomiting events. A gangly pale orange Twi'lek male currently offered homage to the artwork.

Before entering, Ferrigo turned his helmet to regard the small repair droid.

"The name's not Rocky," the droid continued with a slight tone of caution. "This place is called the Dizzy Bucket, you know."

Ferrigo quickly jabbed the optical receptor of the droid, causing it to deactivate and collapse on the ground with a light puff of dust. Prosstang used his HUD and cameras to maintain visual awareness of his surroundings as he knelt and picked up the DUM-droid and attached it to a hook on the left side of his utility belt.

The Mandalorian walked confidently into the cantina.

"Take your helmet off, barve." The bartender said tersely.

Ferrigo ignored the command and chirped a series of commands into his helmet's vocal receptor and scanned the cantina for familiar faces. When he found two Weequay sitting at a table in a corner against a wall that served to enclose a staircase to the level above, he approached slowly and carefully until he stood in front of them with his gauntlets crossed.

"Where's Hondo, you skugs?" his voice sounded cold.

The Weequay looked at each other, and the slighter of the two looked at Ferrigo as he raised a blaster pistol. "He ain't here, Velrrus. Stop botherin' us."

Ferrigo started to turn toward his left, but kept his gaze on the pair of pirates. "He and I have to talk, Tezzis. It's life or death. For the two of you." With a deft lowering of his left wrist and tap of his right index finger on a button of his left gauntlet a wide fork of electricity crackled from the metal prongs above the top of his left glove. The Weequay screamed as they were consumed in arcs of orange and blue light. Several decorative wall pieces behind them, including a stylized painting of a Twi'lek slave girl sparked and burst into flame before dropping to the floor. "Want more?" Prosstang growled as his finger hovered over the button.

The slightly-built Weequay, whose blaster was smoking and sparking on the table, groveled. "I can't believe he crossed you."

The larger and heavier pirate groaned. "He didn't pay us enough for this, Tezzis."

Ferrigo pulled the DUM-droid off of his belt and tapped its single eye before he dropped it on the floor. The droid activated and it stretched to its full height before its feet were on the floor for half a count. "You will give me the Hondo's location, destination and the frequencies he's using. Now."

The Aqualish bartender came from around the bar, as the patrons had begun to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Several left the cantina. "You must leave here now! You destroy my place."

Prosstang quickly whipped his right Taddie blaster from its holster with a spinning flourish before pointing it directly at the bartender. "Go tend bar."

A few of the patrons stood to face Ferrigo and began to raise their own blasters.

"Rethink." Ferrigo said firmly as he moved his left hand in a slow arc to face those who had intended to challenge him. "Or find yourself on this dive's menu." The corner walls behind the Weequay still smoked slightly.

"What are we doing here?!" the DUM-droid whined in surprise and exasperation.

The other patrons lowered their weapons. Except one. The patron shifted and let loose a short flurry of blaster bolts from his right hip. Ferrigo ducked into the stairwell and avoided the blasts with two near misses. One of the close but errant shots hit the music machine. The other hit a Gotaal patron in the chest and his chair slammed against the chipped duracrete wall and then clattered as both fell to the floor. The cantina was filled with yells, shouts, curses and groans resonating above the din of bodily contacts from a growing melee centered on the shooter. Prosstang turned to see the face of the Gotaal locked in a blank gawking gaze. He also saw the two Weequay pirates making for the exit as they quickly dodged through other patrons and their chairs.

The DUM-droid stood up on the third step of the stairs and blocked Ferrigo's view. The Mandalorian growled and stood up from his prone position on the stairs and ran for the exit. Not my fight. He bumped and knocked over a Nikto and another Weequay on his way after Tezzis and Pando, two of Hondo's henchment that he had once trusted in their staged piracy racket. But Hondo had unilaterally changed the rules of the game.

Catching Up on Raaleena'warlaan
Ferrigo adjusted his environmental sensors with a few commands as he chased his targets through the narrow streets of the Golden Town section of Lohemaryll. The DUM-droid ran and bounded to keep up with the pace. The HUD readings of ozonized-carbon from the skin and clothing of the Weequay duo were still high enough to provide a non-visual trace, but the Mandalorian saw them ahead and followed their evasive turns. His weapon systems were fully operational in green-light status.

As the chase approached a large, simply ornamented gate between two three-story residential buildings, Tezzis, the slighter-built Weequay, dodged into a ground-level peddler shop to the left while Pando continued to jog. The distance between Prosstang and the Weequay had closed to fifteen paces. Ferrigo fired a dart to his left as he continued to run. The DUM-droid ten paces behind ran as fast as it could and jumped over obstacles like hoversleds that Ferrigo and the Weequay ahead of him had managed to weave around.

Ferrigo panted as he tried to access his weapon status display in the left side of his HUD. Did I get him? The distance between the Mandalorian and the heavy set Weequay closed to ten paces as the pair crossed another bridge that took them back toward the red roofs of the Main Town District. Prosstang tapped a familiar button on his right gauntlet after clucking his tongue and squinting his right eye several times after glancing at a menu of options. A shriek of pain echoed through the corridor of buildings from behind. ''Good. We'll have something to talk about Tezzis.''

Ferrigo snapped a twist of his left gauntlet and continued pursuit of Pando. The Weequay was clearly tired, and seemed to look for an opening that was unlikely to materialize to meet his limited abilities of perception. Prosstang considered the many other Weequay he had tracked and either taken down or brought in after attempted escapes. Pando proved no different from the lower threat targets Ferrigo faced on Nar Shaddaa during the past few years. As the Weequay seemed to slow with indecision, the Mandalorian lowered his helmet as he ran and activated his jetpack.

A few pedestrians around the market street screamed as the hiss and seething burning of gas sent Ferrigo into the back of his larger quarry, forearms crossed in front of his helmet. The Weequay stumbled and hit the rough cobble pavement hard. Instantaneously, the Mandalorian flipped over the top of the humanoid after his jetpack engines were cut. The thruster cones of the jetpack were still smoking from the burst as Ferrigo lifted himself from the ground, braced by his right gauntlet. He fired a dart into the top of the left shoulder of the prone Weequay. Kriffers.

The DUM-droid was nowhere to be seen, so Ferrigo clucked his tongue and whispered a few commands to bring up a holotable containing data on the DUM-droids assigned to each member of his network of former slave girls. Raaleena'warlaan's droid was named Chesker. Chesker? I thought it was Go-Ferd. Ferrigo clucked his tongue again, blinked his left eye and spoke. "Chesker. This is Snake Pridemaster. Report."

"Sir. We have a shivering Weequay on the floor of a female accessories shop. That is my report. And how are you?" without a moment to spare, the DUM-droid continued. "Glad you got my name right."

The HUD display shifted and scrolled upward quickly to Ferrigo's momentary surprise as his left eyebrow lifted in response to Chesker. The Mandalorian lifted the heavy Weequay up and pulled him to lean against the nearest exterior wall. He whispered a few commands and with several blinks of each eye established new parameters for applying shocks through the darts lodged in Tezzis and Pando based on any movement. The crew back at The Pride of Lorell had been spared any shocks relating to the darts by Ferrigo's specific programming.

Ferrigo left Pando slumped against the wall and walked toward the bridge, the sound of rushing water and pedestrian chatter echoed against various surfaces. In a split count, a pair of figures from the dark landed on the bridge apex in front of Prosstang, their dark brown robes settling as their feet planted. One was a common horned Nikto, the other a tall, light-haired human. The Mandalorian was not entirely surprised by the ignition of lightsabers, the Nikto holding a blue blade, the human a green blade. In the dark of the evening, the lamp posts warmly, rather than brightly, illuminated the ground floor exteriors of surrounding village buildings in yellow ochre.

Ferrigo's left wrist twitched violently in a tight rotation, and his gauntlet responded with a schik-schuk. Dart loaded.

"Stop. Deactivate your weapons, Velrrus. We are Jedi Knights." The human adjusted his stance and took his saber into both hands off to his right side.

The Nikto moved to the other rail of the bridge, to the left of Prosstang. "Master, he cannot take us both."

The men seemed ready to spring to Ferrigo. Jedi. With exceptional quickness, both of Ferrigo's hands clenched into fists pointed at the two men. Simultaneously, both dark-robed males found themselves in peril. A crack rang out as a dart found the notch below the Nikto's throat before the horned, orange-skinned humanoid could swat the projectile away with his saber. At the same time, an undulating rope of liquid flame bathed the human. Prosstang quickly followed up as the two Jedi struggled with their responses and whipped out his twin Taddie blaster pistols. He expertly fired shots into the shoulders and knees of each Jedi before spinning the blasters with a flourish back to their respective holsters.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "Jedi. You have two Weequay involved in a kidnapping. Ready for packaging. Have a good evening." From one of his utility belt pouches, the Mandalorian tossed a small round grenade toward the Jedi that exploded instantly into a thick shroud of grey, choking smoke. He then activated his jetpack and flew high above the village, turning toward the spaceport tower in the Old Red Town. His HUD displayed various holoprojected data at his command. He sent a silent message to the operating core of Chesker to travel immediately in haste to rendezvous at the spaceport bay where The Pride of Lorell was docked.

Within five minutes, the DUM-droid was aboard. Wait-For beeped and chirped. The rest of the Lorell crew sat around the upper floor holoprojection table. Ferrigo ate his meal diligently in the privacy of his locked quarters across the catwalk. He replaced his helmet after wiping his face and quickly cleaning his teeth and commented to the crew when he rejoined them. "Not bad on the food. Spicy rycrit."

"Not bad at all, boss." A few of the pirates agreed.

"What about meee?" Chesker asked. "Where's my sustenance."

Ferrigo stood near the holoprojection table. "I have tasks for each of you to carry out, now. We have no time to waste." Ferrigo pointed to each member of the crew as he called their names and pressed a button on the control console to bring up images related to assignments he generated and uploaded to the ship computer during his meal.

He pointed first to the human and the bulky Sullustan. "Seeff. Borkas. You two are going to head to this location." Prosstang's finger pointed to a faint green holomap with a pulsing red dot within the Old Red Town District. "Not too far from here. Seeff, you will do all the talking. Bring in these two Twi'lek males. They need to be questioned. Not roughed up. Yet."

Ferrigo handed Seeff Bandridge and Borkas each a false law enforcement identity card, datapad and an earpiece comm. "After those two are brought in, Borkas, you will head to this bridge connecting Red and Gold Towns. I'll have further instructions when you get to that point. Comm me discreetly, and only if you run into complications. Now go."

The human and Sullustan walked down the staircase and out the opened door from the cargo deck level.

"Terggol. Lu'chen. You two are going to head to the mine at the west end of town and pick up a shipment from the foreman. His name is Hayke. Take two repulsorsleds, you'll need them both."

"What if we need blasters?" Lu'chen asked.

"I'm your backup." Ferrigo said calmly as he handed Terggol and Lu'chen false identity cards and earpiece comms. He also handed a datapad for Terggol. "Terggol, this has everything you guys'll need, including the payment authorization code. You're picking up thirty-six medium climate cubes and twenty large wooden crates. No questions asked. Comm only if you run into complications. Now go."

The Nikto and Klatooinian left through the open rear hatch door moments before Ferrigo closed and locked it.

"Heddo, when Seeff returns, you, Seeff and Chodo will head to spaceport registration. We need to ensure that the authorities are properly motivated to relax their customs inspection, and that we are bumped to the front of the approved-for-departure sheet." The Mandalorian looked at the Ithorian and handed him five shining Republic credit chips. "I need you to ensure that our bill of lading is clean."

Ferrigo quickly ascended the stairs to the upper level and walked through a few aches and pains to arrive at the flight deck. "Wait-For, all systems go?"

The purple and gold trimmed astromech beeped, chirped and whistled softly in the positive.

Ferrigo turned around and went back to his quarters. He removed his jetpack after pressing a button on his right gauntlet and set it on the desk to the right of the entry door. He went to the closet across from the desk and picked up a heavy round canister and sat it upon the desk. A few minutes later, after he refueled and added a few catalyzer tablets and checking the electronics array on the jetpack and his right gauntlet, he lifted the jetpack and lowered it behind his back until it magnetized to the beskar'gam backplate and slid automatically into proper alignment.

Chesker approached Ferrigo and entered the captain's quarters. "Sir. You should know that Raaleena'warlaan was not kidnapped entirely against her will."

Ferrigo's helmet T-visor focused on the maintenance droid as he checked the connection tubes of his right gauntlet to the jetpack fuel tank. "You are entertaining." Ferrigo closed the door to the captain's quarters and sat down. "I only have another minute. The teams will need my cover."

"And you're not sure you can trust these pirates, I know," the droid gestured. "But it's true. She grew bored of waiting for you to change your mind."

"What do you mean?" Ferrigo sat against the desktop.

"Uhhhh. Hello. She gave you a son? Oh. Yeah. That's not a unique situation," the droid seemed to scratch the underside of its ocular input. Ferrigo shook his head.

"What?" Chesker, whose original purple paint had been mostly scuffed off, looked at the Mandalorian and then around the captain's quarters.

"You said Raaleena grew bored," the Mandalorian lowered his voice. "Why didn't you report this to Deevee-Eight?"

"Her request, sir. She got to a point where contact from Hondo Ohnaka seemed to interest her. He offered to teach her how to take care of herself. As a pirate mistress."

Ferrigo began to glower inside of his armored suit, and gripped the edge of the desk tightly.

-Your destiny lies with me...Mandalore.- The soft, oddly familiar female voice shook Ferrigo back to reason from his anger. A lingering wonderment also settled into the background of his feelings.

"Reggar. Our son. Is he with her. With them?"

"Yes, sir. He is," the droid sighed and folded his claws together. "Raaleena'warlaan is young. But she is intelligent, Master Velrrus. And clever. She loves her son more than anyone. Including you, sir."

"Clever?"

"Yes, sir," Chesker's single mechanical eye turned to face Ferrigo. "When she refused to marry the scion of a rival clan that had great influence in Lohema, her family allowed her to be kidnapped. She was soon thereafter brought to Nar Shaddaa, to be sold into slavery."

"That's terrible," Prosstang opened his right hand for emphasis. "But soon, I will have her brother, and another male who claims to have been her suitor detained in the holding cell. I have to go, Chesker, but this is not finished. Follow me."

Ferrigo opened the door and walked across the catwalk above the main cargo hold. He looked down and saw that Heddo Beragha and Chodo Adido had been joined by Seeff Bandridge and the two male Twi'leks he had met a few times earlier that evening. The Mandalorian increased the volume of his vocal emitter and pulled out his right side blaster as he descended the staircase to the cargo deck. "Lock 'em up."

"You can't get away with this!" the green Twi'lek male shouted.

"I know we can," Ferrigo said calmly. "And we will."

The Weequay and human pirates put the two Twi'leks onto a square live cargo restraint platform large enough for four average sized humans as Ferrigo trained his blaster on the new arrivals. Once the captives were inside the platform restraining area, Seeff pressed a button on the mechanical wall of the unit and three red rayshield panels activated to complete the enclosure of the Twi'leks.

Ferrigo pointed to the remaining members of the Lorell pirate crew before opening the door again. "You know what you need to do. Chesker. Keep an eye on things 'til I get back.

"Uhhhh. I only have one eye. If you need me to do anything else..."

Ferrigo pointed at the DUM-droid. "These Twi'lek go nowhere. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir. They will be in safe containment."

A Payoff and Lightening of the Load
Ferrigo departed The Pride of Lorell and walked clear of the ship before activating his jetpack. He launched fifty meters into the air and scanned his HUD position map for the mine Terggol and Lu'chen were sent. In less than half a minute, he flew above a grove of tall trees to the west of the Old Red Town before he landed softly on the roof of a three-story industrial building outside of the pocket canyon entrance to the mining camp. Lu'chen pushed one of the repulsorsleds, full of cargo containers stacked three high.

"Terggol, I count thirty-six containers on Lu'chen's sled," Ferrigo spoke on the private channel set up for the cargo hauling team. "Where are you?"

The voice of the Nikto came through in a whisper. "You must have just gotten to the mining camp. I'm already half-way up the back street to the spaceport."

"Fine. What's your count?" Ferrigo gazed in the direction of the spaceport spire, its hazard lights blinked intermittently.

"Twenty large crates," the Nikto audibly took a deep breath. "Might have unwanted attention."

"Me too," the voice of the Klatooinian grumbled softly.

"I have you covered." Prosstang said firmly before he activated his jetpack to soar in the direction of the spaceport tower. He scanned his HUD for life forms and threat levels around Terggol as he carefully navigated the heavy and bulky cargo sled along the narrow, upward sloping street. He looked back toward the hovering collection of containers that Lu'chen had been pushing nearly one hundred meters behind Terggol.

After a ten minutes and a few soft rooftop landings to observe their progress, Prosstang saw that both Terggol and Lu'chen had arrived at the gaping cargo shipment entrance to the spaceport. The Mandalorian took another look around and scanned his HUD for critical data. A YT-2400 Corellian freighter, not much unlike the one he once crewed to and from Dellalt lifted and cast itself westward from the spaceport. Ferrigo watched as its white-hot rectangular exhaust port faded and rose into the distance. His camera and data processing module had been upgraded in the last year, along with improvements to Deevee-Eight and Wait-For. In the efficiency of his data collection and comm system, he was able to get the identification of the ship from less than one second of exposure. Shadow Shaker.

Still looking to the faint light remaining of the twilight, he whispered after making a clicking noise with his tongue. "Heddo. Cargo team is downstairs in customs. Status."

After twenty counts, the Weequay's whispering voice could be heard. "Success. Seeff is heading down there with the clearance. No inspection needed." The smile of the pirate could be heard in his voice.

"Too early to celebrate yet. Get yourselves to the ship. Terggol and Lu'chen will need help loading."

Ferrigo launched into the air, spun and corrected his course around the tower to land inside the bay near The Pride of Lorell. Ten minutes later, all cargo was aboard the ship and fastened to the lower deck as the pirate ship engines roared during the lift out of the bay before it turned westward and accelerated progressively, and extended its retractable engine foils to ascend at a steeper angle.

"Hey, boss. Borkas?!" the intercomm squawked.

Ferrigo pressed the button in front of the pilot seat. "Hey, guys. Anyone of you who wants me to turn around to pick up Borkas, please speak your name into the intercomm. I will cut your wages and share of the cargo proceeds to carry Borkas as part of the crew. Oh, and you'll also be volunteering to pay the docking fee out of your reduced wages. It could be manageable if you go in equal shares to support Borkas being part of our team."

Silence.

"Don't everyone speak at once."

"Are you kriffing kidding me? Never met an unhappier barve in my life of pirating," one of the pirates said from the rear. "Leave him." Chuckles and mutters of approval followed.

The Death Wind Corridor to the Hutt Highway
"Heddo, you, Chesker and Wait-For have the ship. Give us heads up if we have company. I'm going to talk with the rest of the crew."

"Sure thing, boss," Heddo made a thoughtful sound. "Master Velrrus?"

"Yes, Heddo?"

"That bit of business you said to the customs officer back on Roon. Are you gunnin' for Hondo Ohnaka?"

Ferrigo shifted his hand on the back of the captain's chair. "Depends. If he's harmed my merchandise - any of it - he will suffer."

"What merchandise are you talkin' about boss?" the Weequay seemed puzzled.

"You don't need to know, Heddo."

The Weequay paused and turned more fully to face Ferrigo. Wait-For beeped and brapped. Heddo regarded the astromech and the DUM-droid that sat in the chair next to it. "Master Velrrus. You talkin' about a young Twi'lek girl...very pretty...womanly?"

"Green skin."

"Yes." Heddo's eyes lit up.

"No. I'm not talking about a green-skinned Twi'lek girl," Ferrigo turned quickly and left the flight deck for the aft sections.

"Don't kriff with the boss, horny one." Chesker's taunt was overheard as Ferrigo descended the stairs to the cargo hold.

One-on-one, Ferrigo brought each member of the pirate crew upstairs to the captain's quarters for questioning about Hondo Ohnaka and anything they had gathered from the Twi'lek captives who had otherwise been silent. The remainder of the trip to the crossroads shadowport at the moon Syvris was uneventful.

After he assigned Lu'chen, Chodo and Terggol to transfer several cargo containers and a few crates to customs for import sale, Ferrigo took Rolen, the green-skinned Twi'lek male, and Heddo Beragha with him to the Barren Ways tapcaf, near the center of the shadowport. Seeff worked with Chesker and Wait-For on minor maintenance of the ship.

The trio sat down at the bar and had a few drinks and talked of galactic happenings associated with the frequently static-broken holonews broadcast.

"The Republic will never come out here. Never have an army. The Hutts are too strong." The Twi'lek looked again at Ferrigo as the Mandalorian drank from a straw that had lowered from the bottom of his helmet.

The Weequay pirate co-pilot waved his hand. "Can't put down the Black Sun either."

"There's profit being made in the Outer Rim. The Trade Federation are expanding their domination over shipping to more systems every month," Ferrigo put his glass back on the counter and pointed casually toward the green Twi'lek. "If you think the Republic doesn't have an interest in squeezing out independent small-time operators, you're mistaken."

"You speak as a small-time operator?" the Twi'lek made a small gesture with both hands.

Prosstang paused and considered his words. "Yes. And no. I've worked with big firms too. Even they're getting squeezed. The smart ones, the executives anyway, are selling out to the grubs who are taking over the Trade Federation. But they're putting their people in a bind. The costs for street customers is rising, for food, drink, spice, speeders...everything. That's where independents and small operations should be able to find breathing room."

"What's your point, then?" the lekku of Rolen slid up his chest.

"The Trade Federation is trying to close the door on independents, using the Republic to do its dirty work." Prosstang said certainly. "But we'll survive. Because I have a vision..."

"How does my sister factor into your life?" Rolen lowered his voice and seethed. "Are you a slaver?"

"Well, Rolen Warlaan, no. I purchased slaves to keep them from the Hutts. And your sister was an agent for one of my companies," Ferrigo sighed and continued. "Warrior Lust Trading Company. She worked on gems and jewelry pieces. On Tatooine."

"Why there?"

"She wanted to be close to home, and my sources once told me that Tatooine had extensive rare mineral deposits. I'm not so sure about that now. But I depended on her."

The Weequay gently entered a comment. "I heard she enjoyed adventure."

"That sounds like Raaleena," Rolen Warlaan responded with a short nod.

Ferrigo was silent as Beragha spoke again. "You know that she wanted to travel the galaxy?"

Rolen's lekku moved as he nodded gently. "When she was just a little girl, she believed she would be queen someday, traveling to Coruscant to represent our people. And going to other planets where the suffering was greater than on Ryloth, and helping those beings."

Taken aback, Ferrigo retorted. "Anything's possible for a young, beautiful woman like Raaleena. Even with a child."

"She was your slave, Velrrus." Rolen barbed.

"I saw her potential," Ferrigo said wistfully. "And technically, she is still my slave. Under my protection, she can't be owned by anyone else. But she is practically free."

"You spoiled her for Twi'lek noble marriage," Rolen dug deeper. "A slave is expected to be an entertainer without reservation. Most improper."

The Weequay shifted his glance from the green Twi'lek to the Mandalorian's lifeless helmet and dark T-visor as a few patrons milled about the tapcaf. Heddo then spoke up. "She wants to live a pirate life, mate. This barve here, Schingo Velrrus, gave her a new life. Seems like she's now makin' her own. Trust me. She can have anyone she wants."

Prosstang considered physically harming Heddo Beragha, but realized the truth of his words. Laid plain, Raalee was freely pursuing her own destiny. Still, Ferrigo worried about his son, and the other children his former slaves were raising. "That's true. She is full of surprises and talents, all of which point to the marks of a survivor." The Mandalorian bit back the small pang of remorse he felt, but knew that it was time to emotionally release himself from Raalee.

A soft feminine voice whispered to him. -''You understand. Your reach and ability to grasp what is meant for you grows when you let go of what you now hold''.-

Ferrigo looked around, casually to any observer, but found no women in his HUD. The Barren Ways Cantina, though peaceful tonight, was a rough-and-tumble place. Ferrigo recognized a young Klatooinian bounty hunter he once met on Nar Shaddaa a few years before sitting at a table in the middle of the tapcaf. He made no effort to display welcome or curiosity about his potential rival. He remembered that Jango Fett mentioned that he did not like the caninoid's reluctance to work hard for his pay.

"Are we tracking after Raaleena?" the green Twi'lek asked. "I want to talk to her."

"Until a few days ago, that was my plan. But I believe in her will. Her stubborness. She has a plan. If she wants help, she'll find a way." Ferrigo resigned himself with an edge of optimism for the mother of the Twi'lek son he'd only held three times.

The trio returned to the ship after Ferrigo paid the docking fee, and verified that the Warrior Lust Trading Company bill of lading cleared customs. The Pride of Lorell was ready to go, according to Seeff Bandridge and Wait-For. Soon thereafter, Chodo, Lu'chen and Terggol returned with one of the repulsorsleds.

The Ithorian grumbled extensively and offered Ferrigo a small duraplast handcase. Terggol looked to Ferrigo, who took the case as the Nikto spoke. "Every fraction accounted for, every credit paid, Master Velrrus."

"Payday is Nar Shaddaa," Ferrigo turned to regard every member of the crew as Heddo took an obliging Rolen to the holding cell to rejoin Baiks, the light tan Twi'lek. "Next stop, Teth."

Last Stop: Nar Shaddaa
The Triellus Trade Route proved to be a long haul, with many astrogation adjustments required along the way. Wait-For was required to adjust some of the navcomp circuitry and programmed algorithms. A few encounters with presumed pirates were quickly handled with powerful blasts from the D5-Mantis Patrol Craft's assorted cannons. Two pirate ships were destroyed, the others fled from their attempts at engagement.

During the journey, Ferrigo learned a bit about the ship's history from Seeff and Terggol. The ship was originally built by the Kuat Shipyards back in the time of the Old Republic. It had seen many battles during nearly 3700 years of existence. And many upgrades to the engines, weapons, cargo hold and crew quarters.

The crew finished dinner with a robust case of Felucian wine and talk of the journey, which had been very lucrative for Warrior Lust Trading and Brilliant Pharmaceuticals, and Snapping Schinga Delicacies. Chesker had quietly cleared the table of the empty dinner dishes, and Wait-For provided more wine, using his articulating arms. Ferrigo had eaten prior to joining the crew for dinner, and made sure that the Twi'lek captives were also fed.

Wearing his weathered grey beskar'gam with worn red trim, Ferrigo leaned back in his chair, which was a bit larger and more padded than the other seats around the large, round table purchased earlier in the week at Teth. "Terggol, Lu'chen, Seeff, Chodo, Heddo," the Mandalorian said with a satisfied, light tone of voice. "You all have done very well this trip. Aside from the shenanigans on Dilbana and Piroket, we were silent and unseen, going about legitimate business."

Heddo laughed heartily. "Master Velrrus, everything is legal on Piroket."

"Everything!" Lu'chen roared with his woofing laughter and clenched his fists as his eyes squinted in reverie.

Seeff looked at the Weequay and Klatooinian. "Not sure that tapcaf will ever be the same, boys. Shutting it down and turning it into a tabletop bordello."

"What are you talking about, Seeff?! You collected payments!" Heddo pointed and grinned at the human.

"I knew most of those pirates, anyway," Bandridge grinned in return. "And the girls. Old friends of mine."

After some grumbling from Chodo Adido, Terggol spoke up. "Chodo thinks the experience on Dilbana was much better."

Except for Seeff Bandridge, the crew laughed and smacked the table with their hands.

"Don't tell me you actually enjoyed the Whiphid streetwalker on Dilbana, Chodo." Seeff shook his head.

The eyes of the Ithorian smiled as his gravelly voice grumbled and chortled, his long fingers stroked the table with delight. Terggol's orange skin darkened as he laughed fully. "He said the Whiphid told him that he was equipped like a rancor, and that her Theelin friend couldn't sing for you because you were equipped like a nuna, Seeff!" the Nikto sputtered and beat the table with his open palm as the crew burst into laughter. Ferrigo smiled behind the T-visor of his slowly shaking helmet.

"Do you partake in entertainers, Master Velrrus?" the Nikto asked, a few fingers extended toward Prosstang.

"As a bounty hunter and mercenary, I find that I spend most of my time being the entertainer." Ferrigo said plainly after he straightened his hidden face. The crew members laughed and moved about in their seats.

Chesker walked around the table and waved one of his claws as he blurted gleefully. "What Master Velrrus means to say is that he is packing like a rancor, too, gang. And he's left a trail of slave girls, noble women, and harlots with broken hearts from plunder to show for it."

Ferrigo gazed intently at the DUM-droid. The rest of the crew was silent for several counts.

"Gotcha covered, chief." Chesker wiggled his core in doing a short dance as he pointed his claws at Ferrigo. The crew remained silent. The DUM-droid shrugged. "What? What did I say?"

"Fierfek." Prosstang muttered and shook his head as the crew again burst into laughter. Raalee must have programmed Chesker.

During the next few days, the crew straightened up the ship and cleaned the interior. Ferrigo was able to talk with the captive Twi'leks at last, a day before they arrived on Nar Shaddaa.

"Baiks," Ferrigo started. "There is nothing I can offer you in terms of employment. You are clearly not cut out for cargo hauling. I am sorry for you, me, Rolen and her family that we can't get Raaleena back. But that's not what she wants anyway."

"You are a scoundrel," the smaller light-skinned Twi'lek growled. "You spoiled my precious flower."

"Listen to yourself. Her own brother has said she wants a life larger than Ryloth, let alone Lohemaryll. She's the mother of my child, Baiks. And that jester of a maintenance droid is all she's left me," Ferrigo paused. "She is going to get that larger life. If she was in danger, I am sure her droid would have told me. I'll provide you and Rolen with passenger fare to Ryloth. In style." Ferrigo placed his hands on top of his utility belt pouches.

"There's nothing on Ryloth for me," Rolen said. "I want to better understand what happened to my sister."

"I will send you a holotransmission when I find out. I track people for a living, and earn handsome pay. I will track Raaleena because I care about her, too. And our son." Prosstang gestured to the green Twi'lek. "You can go back to Ryloth and help your people."

"You don't understand, Velrrus. I want to live a larger life too," Rolen Warlaan opened his right hand. "I want to be with my sister to ensure she is safe. If you are unwilling to interfere, I am willing. I will take whatever steps are needed to protect her."

Ferrigo raised his hand again from his belt slightly. "Hondo Ohnaka is not to be taken lightly. I trained him in some areas of combat, and in running a business. But I'm not willing to go after him, because he has bigger friends than you or me can handle."

"Then you train me!"

"That's not practical, Rolen. We both know that." Ferrigo tucked his thumbs into his belt. "And for what you do have, Baiks is going to need your company on the ride back to Ryloth."

Back On Smuggler's Moon
While still at the spaceport inside The Pride of Lorell, Ferrigo distributed the last of the credit chips he allocated for the crew. He calculated that the proceeds from the spice run would provide operating funds for all of his ventures for the next two years. After the group as a whole had an early dinner at a nice restaurant in the Corellian Sector, Ferrigo handed the two Twi'leks more than twice the value in credits needed for return fare to Ryloth.

"Redar Velrrus. This is not the last you will see of me," Rolen Warlaan said with a slightly menacing tone before he departed with Baiks.

"I hope not. I hope Raaleena finds us interesting enough to return to our lives. She has a handsome son, your nephew." Ferrigo wanted Raaleena to have a safe life. But he accepted that the situation with her was beyond his control.

After the Twi'leks had departed, Ferrigo called a shuttle speeder to take the crew to the Snapping Schinga Delicacies factory in the Industrial Food and Beverage Precinct of Nar Shaddaa's Undercity. On arrival through the security doors, several DUM-droids marched to their sides and turned to lead them to the lower-level conference room. Several Swokes Swokes workers moved about as they checked on the processing of gorgs. The Swokes Swokes workers in their turns approached Ferrigo and gave him big hugs. There was much laughter among them, and Ferrigo spoke to them in rudimentary Swoken about his gratitude for their hard work - and that they would catch up later on recent news and events.

"Master Velrrus. Good to see you, sir." Deevee-Eight chimed brightly.

Ferrigo's smile could not be seen, nor his joy at seeing his functional assistant operating again. "Thank you, Deevee-Eight. Please have the droid staff bring refreshments for our guests." Prosstang silently clicked his tongue to enter his private comm channel with Deevee-Eight. "Good to see you too, buddy." He clicked his tongue again.

Less than five counts later, the doors opened and six DUM-droids entered the conference room with trays of drinks.

"Wow. That's some service," Seeff Bandridge said with a look of astonishment.

"Welcome to my world." Ferrigo spread his hands in front of him to brace forward over the long table. "Please enjoy your drinks."

The crew drank and talked about the journey.

Ferrigo spoke up after quarter of an hour passed. "I have an offer for each of you. You can take it. Or leave it. You will have three minutes each to think about the offer. No details unless you take it. No backing out. To accept is to go all in. If you accept, the penalty for betraying Schingo Velrrus is termination."

"Wow, that's pretty final, isn't it?" Chesker asked snidely.

"Or deactivation." Prosstang added with a glance at the DUM-droid, which then gawked and guffawed.

Ferrigo lifted his hands, palms facing out. He then tapped a few buttons. "Chesker. Deevee-Eight. Wait-For. Please collect the tracking units from each of our guests."

The pirate crew was confused, but the droids removed the magnetized units placed on each pirate moments after Ferrigo met them one month before.

Prosstang looked at each individual. "Chodo Adido. I have a place for you in my organization. Accounting. Seeff Bandridge. Fleet mechanics and cargo hauling. Lu'chen. Cargo hauling. Terggol. Pharmaceuticals. Heddo. Cargo hauling and piloting.

After waiting a few minutes as the crew looked around at each other and whispered, Ferrigo raised his voice. "It's time each of you made a choice. You all have had a hard journey, lost comrades, and a boss," the Mandalorian paused. "I won't hold it against you if you say no right now, and walk out of this building, never to return. Those who work for me are well-rewarded. But I expect perfect loyalty. I've already explained the cost of betrayal."

"I'm out," Seeff Bandridge got up from his seat and left the room.

"Take care of yourself, Bandridge." Ferrigo said evenly.

The Ithorian grumbled.

Ferrigo looked at Terggol. "What about you, Terggol?"

"Chodo and I are in," the Nikto said with his left hand slightly above the table. "We expect to be paid well."

"You will be. For dedicated, loyal service."

"I'm in." Lu'chen growled with a slight grin.

"How about you, Heddo?" Ferrigo asked, as his HUD filled with data provided by Deevee-Eight.

"Seems like a good deal to me." The Weequay rubbed his chin and smiled.

"Good." Ferrigo placed his hands on the back of his chair. "More details in three days, boys. The maintenance droids will have additional credits to hold you over until I sort out your specific assignments."

Time to Settle Down
Inside his helmet, he clicked his tongue then winked his right eye until he saw Aallyss'anada's name in Mando'a. He clicked his tongue.

"Su'cuy Schingo, my sharka!" Aallys responded excitedly. "You're home?!"

"Yes, cyar'pampy," Ferrigo smiled at the voice of his sweet jewel. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, Ku-Kee has spoiled me. I might have put on a few extra units since you've been gone. I hope you'll not be upset with me."

"I'm sure you're still my gorgeous, sexy blue Twi'lek dancer. I'll be home in less than half an hour. Get cleaned up. I want you for dessert. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, baby!" the jubilant mood of Aallys made Ferrigo grin. "I'll be sweet and shaven for you." Ferrigo beamed inside his helmet. It had been a long month. Aallys sounded perfectly ready for a night of passionate desire; reconnecting.

And so it was on his arrival home with Deevee-Eight, Wait-For and Chesker. The droids immediately went to their own area of the large apartment and closed the door.

Aallys jogged across the parlor room to intercept her young Mandalorian lover with a gaping smile, tears in her eyes, but not a thread of clothing on her voluptuous, jiggling body. Ferrigo had already abruptly removed his helmet and jetpack, and was working on his gauntlets when his Twi'lek lover pressed her naked body into his cool beskar'gam and seethed her warm breath up into his face. He roared and groaned with unrestrained delight and furiously kissed Aallys while trying fitfully to remove his gear as he engaged his beautiful, equally-hungry slave in the beginning of a torrid evening of love-making. Ferrigo and Aallys were finally spent by early the next morning, their bodies sore from the vigorous collisions and straining of flesh with flesh.

Shortly after they awoke in bed together, Ferrigo whispered. "Aallys, freykaa, will you marry me?" He was a little surprised by his own words, but knew that he meant them.

"Yes, Schingo. My eyan, distombe Schingo. I am so honored that you want me to be your wife." Aallys seemed to know that Ferrigo would ask. He was not at all bothered. Her lekku reached up and traced his eyebrows, cheeks, ears and chin.

"I love you, Aallys Sanada." Ferrigo kissed her repeatedly as they roused to another session of passionate love-making.

"I love you Schingo!" Aallys cried out again and again that morning as her young stallion both devoured and rode her into a vortex of emotional releases. His muscular white hands caressed her lekku tenderly and also pulled her soft, yielding pale blue flesh firmly into his hungry mouth or roughly into his hardened mid-section as he bounced her and moved her around their bed until they were exhausted.

"Aallys. Repeat what I say." Ferrigo held Aallys under him, their bodies adhered with sweat.

"Okay, my sweet man." Aallys gasped and touched Ferrigo's cheek with her fingertips and lekku.

Ferrigo spoke softly and slowly into her beautiful face. "Aallys. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

"Schingo. Mee solus tomay, mee solus dart oh-may, mee meh dee noo wee an, mee buh juree vayr day."

"I love you, my wife." Ferrigo gasped and smiled as Aallys used her unseen charms to please her Mandalorian stud. And now, husband.

"I love you, my husband." Aallys smiled with tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms and legs around Ferrigo, bringing him as close to her as possible.

Later that morning, after breakfast, Ferrigo and Aallys went shopping for rings, clothing and gifts for each other.

"The businesses are doing so well, Schingo. You are so wise and sharp. And tall and handsome." Aallys smiled.

Ferrigo, wearing a civilian outfit that allowed for a discrete holster placement near the left side of his chest, held hands with Aallys as they walked in the wealthy shopping precinct of the Corellian District. Nar Shaddaa was peaceful though bustling that morning, with primary starlight bathing the upper levels of surrounding buildings and reflecting pleasantly onto the street level boulevards and plazas. This section of Nar Shaddaa was thought to be the nicest on the Smuggler's Moon.

"I'm going to pick up the rings, baby." Ferrigo smiled at his Twi'lek wife, who returned a happy grin.

"I am going to look for scarves and swimwear, love. I want to look fashionable and stunning on the beach for our honeymoon." Aallys waved happily with her fingertips and walked away from Ferrigo toward the clothing stores.

"You always look stunning, sweetheart." Ferrigo slightly bit his lower lip, ecstatic that he had sorted out the mess of his life. One woman. The most beautiful inside and out.

-You must prepare for change.- The soft, familiar female voice.

Okay.

Ferrigo picked up the rings from the jeweler, at the quoted price, which was an unusual blessing on Nar Shaddaa. Or anywhere in Hutt Space, for that matter. He picked up his comm and called Aallys, but received no response. He sat down on a public bench and examined the rings. They were truly beautiful in his eyes. Simple, carved precious metal in a matching pattern for both rings.

Ferrigo murmured to himself with a slight smile. "Forever my wife. I love you Aallys...Prosstang? Velrrus?"

He pressed the comm button again ten minutes later with no response. He activated the tracking button and began to walk in the direction that Aallys had gone. Ferrigo's blood ran cold when he heard a female shriek.

He immediately broke into a run, and leapt over the bottom of a handrail to approach the origin of the commotion. He was stunned ten paces from a bench. Where Aallys slumped, her head resting on the arm of the furnishing with her lekku moving around and shaking. Two Nikto males and a female human street urchin peddling trinkets tended to her.

He ran to Aallys, yelling at the beings to move. "I'm her husband! Move!" The three stood and backed away, out of sight.

Her eyes turned slightly to regard his. Tears ran down her face. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Ferrigo kissed her and whimpered into her face, caressing both of her lekku with his hands. "Hold on Aallys. Hold on baby." His hands and then eyes quickly explored her delicately. Until he found a small, hard protrusion in her left breast.

Aallys gasped and cried out as if suffocated, her eyes filled with fear as her body convulsed wildly. Ferrigo looked around the street for a split second before he returned his gaze to his wife, whose body went limp. Her eyes were wide open and fixed. A new, large gold chain necklace with a large oval of dark, smokey crystal braced in a golden basket was situated at the center of her ample cleavage.

"Back up!" Ferrigo yelled.

The bystanders gave them some space. The two Nikto males who had tended to Aallys remained close, their faces showed sorrow and pity. Ferrigo opened Aallys' blouse and moved aside the large, golden gem-holding basket of the necklace and had the outside small finger of his right hand burned with the sting of acid. He looked to see that Aallys' skin was darkened and continued dissolving around the small cylindrical object he felt a moment before. A dart was lodged into her muscular tissue. Ferrigo could not wipe the look of horror from his face. He rasped silent, screaming cries as he turned to the street and looked at the skyscrapers around him.

''NO!! NO!! MY WIFE!! WHO DID THIS?! HOD HA'RAN!! SHE IS A GOOD WOMAN!! NO!! NOT THIS TIME!! PLEASE!! PLEASE!! Please.''

His tears fell freely. Aallyss'anada, his wife, his most-knowledgeable lover, his friend, his mentor, and loyal confidante was gone. Sirens wailed in the closing distance and resonated with the pangs of heartbreak Ferrigo felt.

Ferrigo allowed himself to gaze upon his lovely, deceased Aallys. Remembering the love they had made that morning, their Mandalorian wedding, and breakfast. Their years together. Her smiles. Her massages and care for him. Their conversations. He kissed her face, her lekku, gazed into her glazed eyes and a wave of tears overcame him once more.

As a team of Hutt Cartel Security League officers closed around the two of them, Ferrigo noticed the necklace below her chin, and its gem holder seemed to beckon him. His mouth trembled and dropped open. He knew this jewelry piece. The feeling of horror expanded throughout every nerve of his body as he realized that he had placed this very necklace around Kenna Luxara's neck three years before. In their bed, only minutes before she died.

He realized now that the necklace was not around Kenna's neck when he found her broken body laid on the boulevard below her rooftop apartment. Ferrigo's mind swam in horror, confusion and revelation. He looked around for the trinket peddling girl. She was nowhere to be seen. The two Nikto males who had also been attending to Aallyss'anada in her last moments were gone.

I'm returning to Mandalore then.

The Screening
Ferrigo had contacted Melaa Kuporr two days after Aallyss'anada's murder via holoprojector in his apartment. He explained what he understood of what happened and asked Melaa to identify a young, sturdy candidate to fill in his shoes - literally wearing the beskar'gam of Redar 'Schingo' Velrrus. He did not tell her that he wanted to return to Mandalore for a while and needed to keep a visible presence on Nar Shaddaa and elsewhere. After half a day, Melaa contacted Ferrigo with a short list of candidate stand-ins.

"There is Yomaget Tre'vhek," Melaa sounded stretched. "But I think he might be a bit tall for you. My brother Brelek, but he is too short and has a chip on his shoulder."

"Still?" Ferrigo said incredulously.

"Still."

"What about one of your older brothers?" Ferrigo allowed optimistic enthusiasm to carry his voice.

Melaa's form shifted, and some static caused a wavering of the image. "Well, Dhettos is about the same height. Not sure he could carry your armor though."

"He'd be wearing it." Ferrigo shook his head.

"Yes, that is what I meant." Melaa was holding a datapad. "And Dhettos is not young. I have few others on the list."

"I want your brother Dhettos. The stakes are high," Ferrigo slid his right hand away from his chest. "No leaks. I know I can trust you. To anyone else, I am Schingo Velrrus. Got it?"

"Oya." Melaa sighed. "Will he be paid? Or will he be doing this for Clan and glory?"

Prosstang tilted his helmet slightly to the right. "Come on, Kuporr. Am I that stingy?"

"You are becoming legendary," Melaa smiled during several counts of silence. She then murmured while she shook her head. "Nego'naasir."

"Oya."

Meeting the Kuporrs on the Far Side of The Smuggler's Moon
A few days later, still wearing his fully-inspected and recharged Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam, Ferrigo sat in a cantina on the opposite side of of the Smuggler's Moon from his Corellian Sector apartment. He drank non-intoxicating beverages and had earlier eaten discretely in a rented covered airspeeder. As he looked in his HUD at recent news, he fought back his sorrow and bitterness the male Nautolan news anchor mentioned a report submitted from Nar Shaddaa as part of the HoloNews Entertainment Week report.


 * Aallyss'anada, the Rutian Twi'lek entertainer known in her prime as The Jewel of the Dance from the cabaret show "Any Port In The Storm," died this past week. Her death comes as an apparent response to gang violence visited upon Aallyss'anada's previous benefactor, Anurgga the Mighty of the Besadii Kajidic. The investigation has been inconclusive. "Any Port" was one of the most popular live shows by ticket sales in Nar Shaddaa's long history of paid entertainment. The beautiful Miss Sanada entertained species in many venues throughout Hutt Space since her childhood, and was said to have been settling down with a mysterious human off-worlder on the Smuggler's Moon when her life was cut short. The Jewel of the Dance was forty-one primary cycles old. 

Ferrigo gazed at the images shown during the news report of his lovely wife, some of her dancing and singing. He fought another wave of that week's tears and gulped some of the beverage drawn through the retractable straw extended from the bottom of his helmet visor.

''Snake. You have to keep your focus. Or die. ''

He then took a deep breath and considered how seamlessly the former crew of The Pride of Lorell took to their initial assignments and training schedule. Prosstang would need to complete voice recordings to be periodically issued by his surrogate to keep the new team on track.

Wearing red-painted beskar'gam of Prosstang Industries Security, a female of average height and a taller male entered the cantina.

Ferrigo spoke into his vocal receptor, unheard by any not on the private channel he had pre-arranged with these visitors. "To your right. Booth in the corner against the wall."

"Su'cuy to you too. We should leave here, Schingo." Melaa Kuporr said with a tone of worry.

"No." Prosstang was firm. "Come have a seat. We talk only on private channel. I am the only one who speaks aloud."

"This place is seedy beyond anyone's hopes," Melaa put her right hand on her hip and watched her male companion walk toward Ferrigo.

Ferrigo watched the Mandalorian wearing the company gear as he approached. "It serves its purposes well, Kuporr."

"That's Ur'mogg."

"Congratulations, Melaa." Ferrigo gazed at the male until he took a seat on the opposite side of the booth.

"I know," Melaa seemed to apologize. "He will have to get swagger and strut training from you."

"Nice, sis," the male protested. "Mister Velrrus, I'm Dhettos. Kuporr. Melaa's oldest brother. By five minutes."

"What's that mean Dhettos?" Ferrigo shook his head and opened his gloved hands in confusion.

"Tetch is younger than me. Five minutes." Dhettos gestured with one of his own gloved hands stretched to show all of his fingers. Ferrigo watched his relative closely.

Melaa, fully-armored, approached with feminine grace and sat down next to Tetch.

"Be easy on him, Schingo."

"I will train him. I just need him to stand and look handsome. And threatening. But stay out of trouble."

Melaa spoke. "What's going on?"

"I can't talk about it."

"Aallys?" Melaa said apologetically.

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "Can't talk about it, Melaa."

"Got it."

"I've got two more days here. I'll train Dhettos in the basics of being me. But I am fine with him hiding out at the apartment. I've put in some security measures since the last time you were here."

"Are all of the other girls okay?"

"Far as I know. There are a few things I'll tell you another time. But nothing that will be a problem for Dhettos. Or you." Ferrigo gently pointed to Dhettos. "Okay. What is your name?"

"Schingo Velrrus," Dhettos muttered. "I am Clan Prosstang. I am an expensive bounty hunter. And ladies' man."

"Nice, Melaa," Ferrigo rasped quietly. "Who's your Clan leader, Velrrus?"

Dhettos said without hesitation. "Q'osstigo Prosstang."

"No. Not so fast." Ferrigo gently rebuked his clansman. "You wouldn't respond quickly. As one of the galaxy's most feared bounty hunters, you're not sure you're welcome on Mandalore. Too much trouble, too many headaches. You would say it like this. I haven't checked lately, but it was Q'osstigo Prosstang last time I heard."

"Is that true, Schingo? Feared bounty hunter? I've only heard of Jaster Mereel and Tor Vizsla."

"Yes," Ferrigo gestured toward Melaa. "Take your sister's word for it."

"He is Dhettos," her tone was solemn. "I saw him fight off over one hundred armed attackers, killing most of them. And, he killed a pet rancor in close quarters combat less than fifty paces from me. Schingo scares the Hutts."

"Why are you going back to Mandalore?" Dhettos asked.

"Answers." Prosstang said plainly. "And maybe questions."

Return to the Corellian Sector and The Home of Serpents
The three left the cantina and took the rental airspeeder to the minor shutttleport for travel to the other side of Nar Shaddaa. They arrived without incident at the large Corellian Sector apartment of Schingo Velrrus, and were soon inside being attended to by Ku-Kee, Lennie, Deevee-Eight and Wait-For. And many schinga.

"Master Velrrus," Deevee-Eight raised his hands. "The serpents have taken over the household, I'm afraid. It takes every bit of my training data to avoid stepping on one of these beasts. At times, poor Lennie is unable to do a satisfactory job in cleaning." Deevee-Eight pointed to the corner, where the rabbit droid hummed as he was entirely wrapped except the tops of his ear wings by a bundle of medium-sized serpents.

Ferrigo smiled and turned to see Aallys alone and naked on the sofa across the room, wearing reading goggles as she looked at a news holopad and ate a pastry. She smiled and stuck her tongue out at him as she rudely chewed her food. ''What a beautiful memory, my loving wife. I miss you.''

Prosstang took a deep breath, leaned down and coaxed a medium-sized purple schinga to climb up his gloved left hand until its tail was wrapped around his gauntlet. "Schinga. Serpents. Spiritual animals. They are to be respected and fed. The droids generally take care of them. You will be wearing an exact replica of the armor I am now wearing. That should comfort the serpents some. But my preference is that you learn more about them from Deevee-Eight here." Ferrigo gestured. "He is my protocol droid and right hand. Most everything that is happening in the world of my businesses and in other affairs is known to Deevee-Eight. You will communicate with me through him. And through Deevee-Eight, my voice will emit from your helmet system. Deevee-Eight will work through the details with you during our trip to Mandalore."

"How's that going to work?" Dhettos asked and then glanced at his sister. Several schinga had slithered and climbed their way onto Ferrigo.

Ferrigo pointed to Dhettos. "I'll be wearing your armor, after scuffing it up a little. For the last three years, Ferrigo Prosstang has been in captivity on Nal Hutta. You, as Schingo Velrrus, caught word that his body was worth something to someone on Mandalore. After doing a bit of legwork, you discovered bones in Ferro's Gulch, outside of Mesh'laruuk-23. And not Prosstang's, as he was believed to have been killed there years ago." He took a breath and gestured toward Dhettos with an open, up-turned hand. "You instead found Ferrigo Prosstang alive in the dungeon of an abandoned Hutt Palace ruin on Nal Hutta. Until I get some answers about what is happening around me from the Prosstangs, you will be playing Schingo Velrrus. You won't have much to say. I'll be standing in as Ferrigo Prosstang until I can figure out who is killing my friends."

"Okay," Dhettos put his hand on the kitchen counter. "Can you show me how to walk and move like you?"

Ferrigo Prosstang Returns to Mandalore with Schingo Velrrus
Ferrigo, wearing a set of worn, chafed and scratched Prosstang Industries Security-marked beskar'gam, walked alongside a Mandalorian wearing a dark grey beskar'gam with worn red trim pieces and helmet. Schingo Velrrus. Velrrus, standing next to Ferrigo Prosstang, was a fearsome sight with a braided cord of Trandoshan hide, and another braided cord, of Rancor hide, tied to the beskar plate covering his right shoulder. He wore a dark-saber over his right shoulder, holstered a Prosstang Select Arms Manufacturing Taddie Blaster Pistol down from his utility belt on either hip. His gauntlets were painted red and promised a great deal of menace.

The reputation of this Mandalorian had spread throughout the Outer Rim, and into other galactic sectors in which he operated. A professional without fear or concern for those who would stand against him. Millions in Republic credits were said to have been earned in the last five years by Schingo Velrrus, and the man lived a secluded lifestyle and outwitted many opponents who had attempted to put him out of the game.

And here he was with Ferrigo Prosstang, a young man thought dead since a bounty was reported as successful in the white desert wasteland known as Ferro's Gulch outside of Negat Cube City, or Mesh'laruuk-23. Ironically, many millenia before, that area of Mandalore was known as a hideaway for a bounty hunter during the Old Republic. That bounty hunter was the first Mandalorian who took the family name that would eventually become Prosstang.

Despite guidance, commands, warnings, then objections, Ferrigo had bypassed the Prosstang Regional Spaceport flght control to land in a clearing at a park near the walls around Prosstang Old Town. As he and Dhettos, dressed as Schingo Velrrus, disembarked through the rear ramp of the ancient D5 Mantis, renamed The Serpent's Pride, Melaa Kuporr was met by Anjii Dawal-Kuporr and her baby son, Rhanin, in a covered speeder that took her through New Prosstang Town southwestward to Rhell'cyok.

Less than half-an-hour later, Ferrigo stood before his father alongside Velrrus. "Well, father, here I am," Ferrigo said somewhat pensively.

Q'osstigo Prosstang embraced his son fully, squeezing him tightly. "My son!" the father kissed the bearded cheeks of his son. "You. You have aged."

Ferrigo began to stammer. The grey-armored Mandalorian raised his right glove. "Aliit'alor Prosstang. Your son was left to die in the dungeon of an abandoned Hutt palace ruin on Nal Hutta."

Ferrigo, as Schingo Velrrus, had killed the Hutt and destroyed the palace on the order of Anurgga a few years before. It was a soild cover. "I am still weak. Redar Velrrus saved me."

"How did you get to...Nal Hutta?" Q'osstigo asked. "And...Redar Velrrus...I thought that we had...Who?"

"Sir, with all due respect. I have brought your son here. A reward would be appreciated, but not expected beyond a commendation. I must leave soon for Nar Shaddaa." Velrrus spoke evenly. Ferrigo heard his own voice, made more menacing.

The father and his son exchanged glances. Ferrigo spoke up. "I will need to lay down for a while, father. You should speak with Velrrus. He deserves our recognition. He has my eternal gratitude."

"Go, son. Rest." After sharing another hug, Q'osstigo turned to Velrrus as Ferrigo departed down the hallway toward the south wing residential suites in the Prosstang Palace. "Redar Velrrus," the elder Prosstang paused for several counts. "Who are you? Remove your helmet please."

The two Mandalorians stood alone near the hearth in the den.

"Afraid I can't do that, sir. With all due respect, my wife was recently killed on Nar Shaddaa. A Mandalorian dart." Velrrus paused as his dark, expressionless T-visor trimmed with worn silver and red paint gazed firmly at the Clan Prosstang Chieftain. "She also wore a necklace with a charm that she had apparently been given or purchased between the time I last saw her alive and the time she was found dead."

"I...I'm sorry," Prosstang said sincerely.

"Not as sorry as I am, sir," Velrrus opened his hand for emphasis. "For that necklace was given to me more than three years ago by the Swokes Swokes of Makem Te. For my valor."

Q'osstigo Prosstang looked on in fascination and horror at the enigmatic Mandalorian before him. "Are you not my son? What is this all about?"

Velrrus continued without addressing the questions just asked. "That necklace was previously given to another lover of mine that I had once wished to marry. She carried my child. You might know of her. Kenna Luxara."

"What is this all about?" Q'osstigo repeated his question.

Velrrus placed his gloved palms on top of the pouches of his utility belt, just as Ferrigo had shown him to do. "Retribution. A warrior and hunter of my reputation cannot bear the mark of a weak man. Having a lover and a wife killed by the same person or conspiracy is a sign of weakness, sir. That's something I can't and won't be able to walk away from."

"I don't understand. Ferrigo was with Kenna Luxara..."

"Sir, I am Redar Velrrus. Kenna Luxara was mine, if you remember. She wore that necklace, and I did not take it from her. But less than thirty counts later, her dead body without the necklace was crushed on the pavement below her penthouse apartment on Zeltros," Velrrus paused, then raised his gloved index finger to Q'osstigo Prosstang. "Someone took it from Kenna Luxara before her fatal fall. And that necklace re-appeared on my Twi'lek wife as I found her dying on a public bench in Nar Shaddaa only weeks ago. With an acid-laced dart that dissolved her chest and internal organs. A dart manufactured by your company."

"This is a sham, you are not my son, and you are not Redar Velrrus." Q'osstigo growled.

"What I'm telling you is true. And I've returned your son, alive, and on the mend. You'd better get over your concerns of me. And answer my questions. If you know who could be responsible for the deaths of two people in my life, you should tell me now. Then I'll go away. Never to return."

The chieftain considered his guest. "And if I know nothing?"

"I can make life uncomfortable on Mandalore. For a lot of people. Until I get answers. And closure." Velrrus folded his right gauntlet over his left against his torso. As Ferrigo had taught him to do. "Kenna Luxara did not die because I left her. Someone killed her. And they kept the necklace in case they could do further damage. And they've done that."

"I honestly don't know." Prosstang turned slightly to face the north windows.

"Think about it." Velrrus said in a deeper tone. "Why did you put a bounty on my head? Why were Preniik Su'uleezs, Melaa Kuporr...and Ghetta Dehet sent to Nar Shaddaa? I know for a fact that Preniik Su'uleezs didn't care for Dehet. You know, word is that she tried to break his marriage. A cheating thing."

Q'osstigo Prosstang stirred uncomfortably.

"I trusted Su'uleezs, Chieftain Prosstang. I trust Kuporr...Ur'mogg. I saved their lives. They saved mine," Velrrus joined the older Prosstang at his side. "Dehet. I don't know much about her other than she mentored Melaa Ur'mogg, and had a thing for your son. And that breaking marriages is a habit of hers." The T-visor of the bounty hunter regarded the leader of Clan Prosstang for many counts before returning to the window.

"I know that you and Ferrigo are doing this. I know that he is Schingo Velrrus. I helped set him up with the identity myself. I am...I can't say this in front of his mother. But I am proud of him. I love him. I would not hurt him for anything," the Aliit'alor Prosstang began to tear up. "I have made mistakes. Many. And, it seems, many with my son."

"Please, sir. Don't cry. It's not. Necessary." Velrrus said evenly.

"But it is, Velrrus. I have seemingly betrayed my son, or you, with almost everything I do in my pride and care."

"You're a father. I am too. Of many children," Velrrus showed his open hand in a gesture toward the window. "Don't regret your past. Change your ways. Change the future. I'm sure your son loves you, sir."

Q'osstigo Prosstang expressed some shock. "How many children?"

"Five. Soon to be ten, maybe more." Velrrus spoke plainly. "But until I know who has been targeting those precious few people in my life, I won't rest. Knowing that those innocent children and their mothers may be targets connected to you or your son, I have to do something about that. And soon. I hope you understand. Even if you are now choosing to stand against me."

"I'm not standing against you." Q'osstigo gripped the edge of the window after standing closer to it.

"Then tell me about Ghetta Dehet. Why was she part of the team attempting to bring me in?"

"She was not assigned." Q'osstigo avoided looking at Velrrus. "I...can only say that she is...determined."

Upstairs, Ferrigo shifted in his bed and listened with his earpiece to the conversation in the den, as he had since it began. He spoke into the comm unit in his hand again. "Ask him...how determined?"

Velrrus paused. "How determined, sir?"

"Very." Q'osstigo Prosstang sighed. "I have...You can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. But it is the extent of what I can tell you."

"Fine," Velrrus opened his hands and returned them to his utility belt. "I'm all ears, and can keep it a secret. It's a best practice in my profession, sir."

The chieftain spoke hesitantly. "It would break my marriage, I fear," he looked at the grey beskar'gam-wearing warrior before him. "But I was seduced by Ghetta Dehet. She has been blackmailing me."

Velrrus paused. "For how long?"

"Perhaps three years. Since Ferrigo disappeared."

"Thank you, sir." Velrrus took a few steps backward and turned slightly. "That's all the payment I need. I'll be leaving."

"What do you intend to do?"

Velrrus paused again. "You don't need or want to know, do you?"

The Clan Prosstang Chieftain inhaled and sighed. "No."

"Farewell. Be prepared for your son. He will want to know that you're in his corner. A tormented soul. But he would protect you with his life, Aliit'alor."

Q'osstigo looked at the floor, then raised his gaze to the bounty hunter. "Thank you."

"Don't mention this visit to anyone. Or I'll come back. Fully-armed and with intention to harm."

"I won't."

The helmet of Schingo Velrrus nodded slightly before the bounty hunter departed.

Apologies - A Father and Son
Q'osstigo sat in a chair near his sleeping son. Ferrigo turned and opened his eyes to see his father with hands steepled, fingertips touching in front of his mouth. His father moved his hands to hold his own knees.

"Ferrigo," Q'osstigo looked at his son. "I am sorry. For everything, son. I am going to leave you alone. But know that I love you and want what's best for you. I am not sure the charade I was just part of was necessary, but you've shown me that you are quite capable of taking care of yourself."

"I know, Dad," Ferrigo's eyes misted. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry about Kenna, son. And sorry about your wife. I never got to meet her. Nor any of your children."

"Dad, I don't know what you're talking about." Ferrigo winked.

A slight smile formed with a half-chuckle from his father. "Well, are you heading off to find someone?"

"Not me," the younger Prosstang smiled and shook his head. "There's some catching up to do. You, mom, Jannigo, Uncle Rapp, and some of my friends I haven't seen in a long time."

"Do you wish to talk business?" Q'osstigo asked his son with a bit of hopefulness.

"Not right now, Dad." Ferrigo sat up and began to stretch his arms. "But I will."

"Okay."

The Brazen and Bitter
The pair left Ferrigo's suite and walked together along one of the long galleries above the Great Hall before heading downstairs to eat with Signara Prosstang.

"Well, I'm so happy to see you alive," Ferrigo turned to see the curled red hair and slightly jowled, and tired-looking face of Ghetta Dehet. His shock was apparent, as was that of his father. Several counts passed as the three stood near the fireplace hearth. "Well, don't everybody talk at once." Dehet laughed heartily, and alone.

"Where is my wife?" Q'osstigo asked pointedly.

Ferrigo bit his tongue, tempted to leap into the woman of his clan that seemed to be everywhere at once. Ghetta smiled wickedly at Ferrigo as if she held a deep, damaging secret.

"She's gone to the cellar to fetch some wine and herbs for our dinner." A big smile like that of a feral cat spread on her face. "I really am glad that you are here, Ferrigo. And not some place like Nar Shaddaa where there are a lot of mean people. And beasts." Ghetta attempted to affect the cute voice of a young girl at the end of her statement. It was not working for Ferrigo.

"What are you doing here, Dehet?" Ferrigo said icily.

The heavy-set redhead, wearing a revealing burgundy dress with plunging front to a belt that stuck out some distance with her stomach, smiled but said nothing.

"I didn't call for you," Q'osstigo said.

"You're not welcome here," Ferrigo added with a rise of his brow.

"Oh, to the contrary. I am welcome here. Aren't I, Aliit'alor?" Ghetta shook slightly with her gestures and nods, as she smiled through what seemed bitter anger. She paced the floor. "Q'os, please tell your son about your making me an executive board member of Prosstang Industries, with a five percent share of the preferred stock. With his position in Prosstang Industries to be solely determined by me. Should he marry me and provide me with two or more children to carry the Clan Prosstang forward on solid footing, then he can rise to the very top. If not, he will be an employee of mine."

"Can I adopt a few kids and hand them over?" Ferrigo retorted.

"This is ridiculous, Ghetta." Q'osstigo snapped.

"No, honey boy. You have to consummate a marriage," her curls of red hair shook with her head, her face still a smiling mask of barely concealed rage. "With me. Your parts. And my parts. Every night of the marriage."

"Well, Dad, I guess I'll be moving along now. I'll keep in touch." Ferrigo turned and walked toward the exit from the den that led to the Great Hall and main entrance.

"Son. Don't go." Q'osstigo grabbed his son by the shoulder.

"Yes, Q'osstigo. Remind our Ferrigo. He is part of this, regardless." Dehet nodded and shook her head at the same time with a wicked smile tightening her already unappealing face. Ferrigo was momentarily reminded of the face of a Hutt.

"Ghetta, you can go kriff yourself with a sharp blade until you're high and dry." Ferrigo gazed at her with a fearsome countenance.

"Oooh. You're gonna be good with me, Ferrigo. My kinda man," Ghetta bit her lip. Ferrigo tried to hide his revulsion. "I've heard great things about you."

"This is not the time, nor place for this, Ms. Dehet." Q'osstigo spoke firmly.

"Oh. You're still here?" Ghetta cast a dismissive glance toward Ferrigo's father. "Tell him, Q'osstigo. Tell him now! Tell him that if he doesn't do as I say, that this whole thing is gonna come falling down!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dehet. You need to leave," the older Prosstang male finished. "This disrespect is unwarranted."

Ghetta shook her head, and her silver-blue eyes got wild. Or wilder, as her red hair shook about. "Oh, no you don't, old man. I have you by the short and curlies. And your son's shebs are mine. All mine. My children will be the leaders of Clan Prosstang."

Ferrigo raised a single finger toward Ghetta Dehet. "I believe I've said this before. I wouldn't be seen with you, even if you wore beskar'gam with a bucket to cover that face."

"You're wrong boy," Ghetta said lustfully with venom. "You will seed me until the day you die. With the next generation of leaders of this clan."

"Dad?" Ferrigo looked over to Q'osstigo. "What's that horrible odor?"

Ghetta Dehet bolted for Ferrigo with her right arm swinging across toward his face. He quickly raised his left wrist to block, turn and grab her wrist before hitting the left side of her neck with the outside edge of his right hand. Red curled hair flew downward as Dehet dropped solidly in a heap on the floor.

"Sorry, Dad. Had to do it. This dala is trash. Shall I take her out?"

"Please be discreet. I don't want your mother seeing her," Q'osstigo muttered. Ferrigo raised an eyebrow and his father continued. "I'll tell you later."

"I need to take her downstairs. But Mom's down there." Ferrigo looked around. "I'm going to take this filth into the Great Hall until I hear that you've taken Mom into the guest suite. You've got some of my friends coming over to stay." Ferrigo raised an eyebrow and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the door behind him.

"Good thinking, son," the chieftain walked toward the back staircase to intercept his wife while Ferrigo dragged a limp Ghetta Dehet into the Great Hall around the veshok entry screen.

Once he heard his mother's voice, he smiled, then grimaced as he looked down at the unconscious, uninvited guest. He lifted Ghetta over his shoulder after he heard his father and mother enter the guest room and close the door behind them.

Ferrigo then found and traversed the back staircase down to the dungeon. His eye was caught by one of the ferrosteel cage stacks that he recalled from Clan Prosstang history were placed within a hundred years of the construction of the Palace. Beings were once imprisoned one above another in rather small enclosures. Ferrigo had never seen anyone in any of the cages. And he used to play in the dungeon as a child, and sometimes fantasized what life was like when the cages were full. He looked at Ghetta and considered the cages. He looked around. No one else was in the dungeon.

Ferrigo carried Ghetta to one of the open cages closer to floor level, and kicked the gate open wider before lowering her in his grasp to hold under her armpits. Her ample bosom was near his own chest.

''No. Disgusting. ''

Ferrigo settled Ghetta into the internal framework that was intended to constrict movement once the cage was closed, her armpits over brackets, which effectively propped her up. He turned to look toward the back staircase as he heard the sound of movement. Suddenly, a flash of bright white light and a deep pain in his groin pushed its way quickly through his stomach, ribs, lungs, neck and face. He gasped as his blurred vision began to focus, when a fist sent deep aching pain through his mouth and nose before the back of his skull was racked into the thick durasteel wall that bore the load of the upper floors of the Prosstang Palace.

"Kriff you, Ferrigo Prosstang."

Ferrigo felt the wet of several spittings as his face stung, burned and ached. Then another loss of breath with a flash of white light as his prone body was pushed into the wall with another kick to his delicate mid-section.

"I will have you. And this clan. Or nobody will," the rough, sturdy female voice grumbled as Ferrigo faded out of conscious awareness.

Ferrigo's father and mother found him and with help from servants who were members of Clan Prosstang, and he was taken to his suite to recuperate. The story went that Ghetta departed into the snow, and Ferrigo went to fetch a different wine from the cellar before meeting a group of thugs who had hidden in the dungeon. Ferrigo insisted to his mother that Ghetta Dehet was responsible for the group that attacked him, though she was dubious and soothing.

A Serpent Soul Restored and Another Revealed (Late 48 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Your name will be Prudence, then.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Works for me. I want nothing more than to see things change for the better around here. And I get the feeling that you do, too.” ''

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Doranin, a mysterious figure, contacted by holo comm link, assigns a name for an agent to operate on Mandalore.

A Healing Return to The Oyu'baat
Ferrigo spent a week shuttling between Keldabe and Prosstang Town, after he received medical attention that included bacta patches. He had his hair cut in Keldabe before he stopped at the well-heated Oyu'baat Tapcaf. Still young and beautiful, the Rutian Twi'lek server Teena had remained at the venerable establishment.

Her eyes lit up as he gazed at her from his barstool. She set down her drink tray and immediately wrapped her arms around him as he turned to her. He gasped with a big smile. Teena eased up on her embrace to look at his face a moment before she forced a deep kiss of his opened mouth. Ferrigo soon joined his hunger to hers, and squeezed her torso against his with his left arm while holding her lower quarters with his right hand.

The Oyu'baat regulars chanted. "Teena! Teena! Teena!"

Ferrigo chuckled as their lips parted. Teena smiled.

"They enjoy every little thing about me." Teena touched Ferrigo's slightly bruised face.

"I do too. Hopefully some little things about you...are kept for me alone." Ferrigo murmured with warm breath into the blue Twi'lek's trembling pink lips before he kissed her again.

"Beytiss," Teena called over to the bartender. "I'm taking the rest of the night off. And tomorrow." She gazed at Ferrigo. "I've missed you."

They walked upstairs to one of the hotel rooms and behind closed doors the two shared their passions for one another. Ferrigo was reminded of Aallys only a little, for Teena was much less experienced in the ways of loving. But her feelings and desire for Prosstang and his muscular body were purely enjoyable and made him feel utterly loved. Ferrigo released his sorrows and tensions as he kissed, caressed and possessed Teena's beautiful, lithe and shapely body for many hours during the next two days in the heat of their room.

Teena was needy for him, and delighted in holding him and possessing him fully. Ferrigo taught her techniques that he had learned from Aallys to increase their pleasure. Between hungry kisses, he cooed with sweet words for Teena as she learned how he could be made weak. In return, she whimpered and moaned like a cat as he made her body release every tension she held. The tapcaf below roared in its chants when Ferrigo and Teena exploded with yells, commands and screams from their fevered, sweat-soaked coupling.

Minutes later, Ferrigo staggered to the door of the hotel room, fully-dressed. "Teena. You're amazing, baby."

"I think I love you, Schingo."

"I feel the same way." Ferrigo said. "But I have to go."

Teena grabbed his hand. "Schingo. I know you are a great warrior and hunter."

"Yes, Teena. Do I please you?" Ferrigo asked and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. Her naked beauty, fully owned by his loving mastery for the last few days still took his breath away. "As you please me?"

"Oh yes, Schingo. You do. You make me a very happy Twi'lek girl."

"What is it, baby?" Ferrigo sensed that there was something on her mind. "You need something?"

She bit her lip. "I know what you really are, Schingo." She saw his sudden concern. "There have been whispers of your return. And bounties posted on the kiosk downstairs. Like two million credits to bring you in, dead or alive. But don't worry. Nobody here would dare tell anyone else you're here."

"There's no way they'd collect. But I want to be sure of something. I forgot to post a job I need to hire out. Here's a code I want you to enter into the jobs kiosk downstairs," Ferrigo handed Teena a datacard. "Take a read on the instructions, and follow them exactly, okay?"

"I will, my Schingo. Besides, I want you to remain in my life. I want to be a mother. Of your babies."

''Wow. He thought perhaps he was deeply honored.''

"Another thing, sweet baby, I need you to get information about the other hunters that stop in here at the Oyu'baat," Ferrigo paused and caressed Teena's lekku after she got out of bed to put her hands on him. "I want to make sure that I can find them if I need to."

"Shall I just ask them to provide contact information for you?"

"No. If anyone can be a threat to us, or the family that you want to start with me," the Mandalorian paused and sighed as the young, blue Twi'lek woman's hand found his rising, restrained manhood. "I want to know more about them than they would care to share. Casual conversations, imprints of any identification they might provide while inebriated during a brag session, that sort of thing."

"You've thought this through," Teena cupped the swollen gifts of her human lover in her left hand. "My beautiful, hard Mandalorian."

Teena removed his clothing as he gasped. Her hands, lekku and full lips left nothing of his again naked body untouched. She made Ferrigo feel like a king, his soft and hard flesh made hers a queen, to her every whim. At her demand, he fed her hunger and plundered her again and again until her shrieks, moans, and screams drew from his very core that which she wished. He filled her with everything he had, and with a fierce vigor her body applauded in return. He yelled words of loving in her face as his endowment was deeply received. Her lekku wrapped around his neck, joining her forearms and calves in holding him close.

He soon turned her over, and surprised her with his immediately replenished ardor and strength in handling her. The bouncing resumed with a loud clapping of flesh as Ferrigo held Teena's lekku over her lower back. Her face looked upward and turned back to glance at him as his own grimacing face and turbulent ramming moves sent the blue Twi'lek again into an orbit of light-headed screaming and crying pleasure. Ferrigo yelled at Teena again and again as he ecstatically lost his sense of direction, hunger, or thirst. Only her loving, beautiful face and body held his attention as she was full of him.

The Oyu'baat Tapcafe crowd in the level below howled and cheered again.

After Ferrigo was finally able to part from Teena many minutes later, her exhaustion greater than his own, did he venture back down into the tapcaf on weakened legs.

"Almost two full days!" Many of the regulars yelled with pride. "Teena! Teena! Teena!" They repeated the chant with a dull roar accompanied by the pounding of fists in unison on tables and the bar counter.

"Beytiss. Get us some serious dinner ready, please." Ferrigo groaned to the bartender as he tossed a few hundred credits' worth of chips on the counter.

"Our cantina kitten's emptied your milk bowl, Velrrus?" the bartender smiled as he wiped several cleaned glasses dry.

"Cyar'manda." Ferrigo muttered with a weary grin.

The Relief of Signara
"Mother," Ferrigo rose from his seat at the table in the Great Hall of the Prosstang Castle and shared a hug and kisses with Signara Prosstang. The grey that had mixed with her light brown hair had increased in recent years, along with worry lines around her eyes and mouth. Her light colored robes were reminiscent of the traditions of Clan Ordo, as well as some of the fashion sense embraced by the New Mandalorian government. Lines and pointed baguette shapes. The mid-afternoon light of the primary star brightened the castle through its many windows. Ferrigo gave a momentary glance to the large fireplace vault at the center of the Great Hall chamber and the decorations of beskar'gam pieces mounted on the enclosure around the table near the hearth of the fireplace.

"Son," Signara gestured to the chair Ferrigo was sitting on. "Please sit down. We must talk."

"I'd rather we go for a walk, or a ride, Mother."

"Another time, Ferrigo. I have a meeting later today in Sundari and must leave in one half hour," Signara sat down in a chair to the left of her son. "A meeting regarding the violence of the Mandalorian Civil War."

"That's over. Isn't it?" Ferrigo put his left hand on the table.

Signara regarded her son. "You don't know, then."

"Know what?"

"The attacks on diplomatic ships sent earlier this week by Duke Bieldo to Concord Dawn to discuss the unrest there with their Governor. Members of your father's clan were involved," his mother focused her blue-eyed gaze on her son's blue eyes. "I have been placed in a difficult position as I serve a member of the Duke's Ruling Council."

"I know nothing about any attacks on Concord Dawn, Mother," Ferrigo replied casually.

"What about Redar Velrrus?" Signara raised her voice. "Might he be involved?"

"I doubt it." Ferrigo thought on the recent incident with Ghetta. "What he told me is that he stays out of Mandalorian politics."

Signara smiled. "What about Ghetta Dehet?"

"I don't think much about her." Ferrigo considered his mother.

"Well, she seemed to get a lot of attention from your father while you were believed dead," his mother pushed her seat back and rose to her feet and paced around the table enclosure. "And she...has hunger in her eyes, son. I have heard disturbing news involving her."

"That wouldn't surprise me. I don't trust her." Ferrigo continued as he gazed directly at his Mother. "Is she involved with the attacks on the Duke's ships? You think Dad has something to do with the incident?"

"Son, I have heard that she has had inappropriate relations with a number of men of influence. The Minister of Trade, who I work for, has been informally asked by other Ministers to step down." Signara stopped and placed her hand on one of the veshok walls of the enclosure. "Officially under undisclosed circumstances. Some Clan leaders who have had the ears of our leadership are said to be behind the recall."

“I thought the traditionalists didn’t have any pull with the New Mandalorian government.” Ferrigo inhaled with a pause, adjusted his shoulders and opened a hand casually. "What do you think Ghetta Dehet has to do with this?"

"The name of a replacement has already been raised. Before a formal request for my employer's resignation," Signara took a deep breath. "Horrox Leron."

"Okay." Ferrigo put his hands together. "Who is Horrox Leron?"

Signara removed a datacard from a fold in her robes and walked over toward Ferrigo and set the card on the table before him. "I found this on your father's desk in his office at the Palace."

"Mother, do I really want to get involved in this? If you're taking stuff from his desk without his knowledge-"

"He has been investigating Leron," his mother raised an eyebrow. "But there are other data on this card. I need your help."

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Ferrigo sighed. "But I'll do it. What will I do?"

Several minutes later, Signara Prosstang ascended the stairs to depart in her shuttle from the east wing landing platform that served the Prosstang Castle. Her instructions were simple and clear. But he was certain that things would not unfold as she had anticipated.

Story Time with Grandmother
Ferrigo sat down on a fallen galek tree with his Grandmother Lunasa Ordo. The weather was cool, and both were dressed warmly in cowls and boots. Ferrigo wore a tunic shirt and thick weaved cloth pants under the cowl. He had a comm unit, his right-handed Taddie blaster and his dark-saber attached to a belt around his pants.

"Hello, Grandmother Lunasa." Ferrigo looked around. "Why don't you live in the village near here, Rhell'cyok?"

"It has been been a long time, Ferrigo. Since I've seen you. And since I lived in How have you been, my dear Grandson?"

"A lot's happened." Ferrigo was overwhelmed to think of how long it would take to explain even the highlights of his life since he last saw Lunasa Ordo. "I can't even begin to tell you, Grandmother."

"You used to call me Gammy, Fer'k." Lunasa smiled.

"Yes, Gammy." Ferrigo thought for a moment about Teena, Aallys and Melaa. And his many schingas.

"Do you remember when you were a boy, Fer'k, that I would take you to a large tree for dreamtime?" Lunasa raise her left hand to touch her cheek.

Ferrigo closed his eyes slowly and thought back to his childhood.

"I know you spent so much time after then with your father's friend at camp." Grandmother Lunasa said softly.

"Camp?" Ferrigo asked, slightly puzzled.

"Where you learned about the ways of the warrior, the ways of the hunter, and the ways of treachery." His grandmother smiled.

"Treachery?" Ferrigo sounded disappointed by her comment. "I learned more about our ancestors from my training and experiences at that camp than I did in school. Treachery I have learned as an adult."

Lunasa Ordo allowed herself a few counts of soft laughter. "Don't you remember dreamtime with Gammy?"

"No, I don't remember," Ferrigo sighed and gestured. "Can you tell me about it? What you...what we...used to dream about?"

"Well, Fer'k, you used to talk about dreams of travel. Traveling the galaxy," his grandmother smiled. "And you have traveled, haven't you?"

"Yes, Gammy. I have traveled," Ferrigo smiled.

"Have you traveled to Makem Te, young Fer'k?"

Ferrigo thought hard, and fought back his urge to speak the truth about his double identity. "No, Gammy. Why do you ask?"

Lunasa Ordo folded her hands on her lap. "Do you know of the Mandalorian related directly to Jelkiga Prosstang-Velrrus? The one who was said to be a master of the beasts there?"

"I don't think so, Gammy Luna." Ferrigo recalled the full nickname of his grandmother, in hopes that it would divert her from pressing on the topic of Makem Te.

"The serpents called to him, Fer'k. They are powerful beings," Grandmother Ordo took a deep breath and continued. "Dreamtime, my grandson. The serpents are here, now."

"What, Grandma?" Ferrigo was startled.

"The serpents of Makem Te," Lunasa paused and turned to Ferrigo. "They respond to those who have the power to communicate and share insight with them and control them."

"I don't understand," Prosstang looked intentfully at his grandmother. "What do these serpents do?"

Lunasa smiled and shook her head slowly. "My little boy. I watched you grow. Your mother told me you were special. I knew as much myself, without her words of pride." She took a deep breath, and for a moment looked so much like an older version of his mother. "I know you, Fer'k. More than you would say. I know your troubled heart aches for knowledge. And the peace of One Love is what you seek."

"Doesn't everyone, Grandma?" Ferrigo shifted on his spot on the fallen galek.

"You have played around at love, Ferrigo Prosstang. Many times. You have children. And yet you have not found your One Love." Lunasa sighed and shook her head. "I have seen her. I can swear she has called to you. She once talked to me, about you," Lunasa looked upward toward the tree canopy as a gentle breeze tickled the silver galek leaves and veshok needles, and moved their branches slightly. "The young woman with long, blonde hair and green eyes. So gorgeous as to appear divine. And her children. Playing. In this very forest, Fer'k."

Ferrigo was stunned. His mouth dropped open.

Lunasa brightened. "Have you seen her? Or heard her music? She plays a flute. The flute of our people, a bes'bev," his grandmother reached from behind her left side and produced a long, dark metallic tube with a sharp, pointed end. "Much like this one. But that tune shall be played yet in the future. For now, my precious Grandson, we shall play tunes of Manda'yaim," she chuckled. "After I practice my scales."

Ferrigo shook his head slightly in disbelief. After she played several tunes, she handed the beskar flute to Ferrigo and taught him the basics of playing the instrument patiently. Every now and again, his grandmother's eyes would bulge for effect with notes he played that were several tones off.

At the end of his practice, he was joyous. He had played imperfectly and even improperly. But the laughter of his grandmother, and his need to grab her hand to keep her from falling off of the tree from her own joyous bellowing warmed him deeply. He smiled at Grandmother Lunasa. "Did my mom play?"

"This was mine," she said as she took the bes'bev back in her hands for a moment. "Your mother had no patience for it."

"Did my mom do dreamtime with you?"

Grandmother Lunasa looked above the trees. "Your Grandfather Ordo, bless his spirit, did not believe in supporting the old folk ways. Some call it the Old Faith. He was, much like your mom is today. A non-believer in the power of dreamtime that our Mandalorian warrior clans once wielded."

"Wow, Gammy. What do you mean?" Ferrigo felt that he indeed knew and understood. From experience. But to hear his grandmother speak of such things continued to astonish and intrigue him. He wanted to hear, to learn more. "Your mother has the ability. But she is as stubborn as you are, Ferrigo Prosstang." Lunasa paused, and then handed the bes'bev back to Ferrigo. "But you have a natural talent for the bes'bev. As to what else you might have a talent for, who knows?" She shrugged. "Just don't smile too broadly when you play, or you won't be able to keep your notes." Ferrigo began to form a question for his grandmother.

"One journey, Ferrigo. That's all you have. That's all your mother had," Grandmother Lunasa gave Ferrigo a piercing stare. "You have already had an interesting journey, so far, haven't you? And think, it's only just begun for you."

"Yeah," Ferrigo gasped. "It's incredible."

"Not from what you've told me so far." Lunasa stared with even greater focus. "Ferrigo. I must share a secret with you. But you must promise to share with only two people," she looked up into the thick canopy of veshok needles for a moment before returned her gaze to her grandson. "Okay, one person only."

"Who, Gammy? And what is the secret?"

"His name came to me in a vision. His appearance was stunning perhaps about..." Lunasa looked Ferrigo over, up and down. "...your size. And, my goodness, naked as a shriek-hawk in molting. He was before a sacred tomb with a young beautiful woman who seemed familiar. Perhaps only a few years older than he. She held him as a lover would, and indeed, she fell in love with him then. Together they danced in this vision. And the power was with him, in him, and shared with her. Together, they raised a serpent of Makem Te from death back into life."

"What happened to them?" Ferrigo nearly fell out of his seat.

"They brought a schinga shikou back to life and healed it with the power of dreamtime."

"She was in love with him?" Ferrigo's eyes widened and he gently bit his lip.

"Until she found out that he could not be tamed, and, that she was his cousin."

Ferrigo let his mouth drop open again. "Gammy, who was this, who raised the serpent?"

"The young man of our clan called Redar Velrrus, the Serpent Master. Some call him Schingo, I hear," Grandmother Lunasa paused. "I am so glad that you are home, alive and safe, Ferrigo. But that man might become the leader of Clan Prosstang someday, and even Mand'alor, as it has been prophesied. Not only by me. But the Manda, as I call her. The gorgeous green-eyed blonde girl with so many children."

"Fierfek, Gammy. Fierfek," Ferrigo turned pale.

"Watch your tongue, Fer'k, please. I may be Gammy, but you can be decent still, can't you?" Lunasa shifted on her spot on the tree.

"Sorry, Grandma Luna." Ferrigo tried to hold his mind together.

Lunasa sighed. "The secret is, that I once rode that very serpent, as a young woman. I know, I know, hard to believe your Gammy would have been interested and able to do such a thing, let alone travel to such a forbidden place as Makem Te...but, I did." She looked at Ferrigo and continued. "And, when I did, I was with a young man."

"Grandpa Ordo?" Ferrigo asked, hopefully.

"No," Grandmother Lunasa said with a faint smile, and shook her head slowly. "No. A handsome man of our clan."

"Who was he? What was his name?" Ferrigo was rapt.

"The young man was...Teddor Velrrus," Lunasa pursed her lips for half a count. "A minor figure in our clan from one of its most distinguished families."

"Yes, the Velrrus family has been one of the most important families in Prosstang history." Ferrigo offered, as his grandmother smiled.

Lunasa took a deep breath and grinned as she gazed at her grandson. "You might not believe it from looking at me, but I was once thought of as beautiful. And rather shapely. Young Teddor and I, from a...how do I say this to you, precious Grandson...spiritual guidance. From serpents. Removed all of our clothing."

Ferrigo gawked again in disbelief. "Gammy Luna, you don't have to tell me any more."

"Oh, but I do." Grandmother Lunasa insisted with a smile. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about your Gammy, Ferrigo."

Ferrigo shook his head and waved his hands. "No, really, it's okay."

"I had once considered taking Teddor as a lover, but he was not nearly as gifted as the descendant Redar Velrrus." Lunasa grinned even brighter as Ferrigo shifted with increasing discomfort. "But he was kind, and a strong warrior. He brought me to Makem Te to show me signs of his virility."

"Wow, Gammy."

"But, he was attacked by a large serpent," Grandmother Lunasa gazed at Ferrigo and yielded a long pause as she closed her eyes. "After two slashing attacks, the poor lad of our clan died. The one who believed he would one day become the leader of Clan Prosstang as prophesied, by his strength and virility he would take me as his wife and depose your Grandfather Ced'rigo."

"Grandpa Ced'rigo?" Ferrigo felt his face ache from the feeling of constant surprise and shock. Grandmother Lunasa Ordo had turned his understanding of the universe and his place in it inside out. And he had no idea where he was.

"But his fate passed into a schinga shikou of Makem Te." Lunasa continued. "Which to my surprise calmed in my presence as I lost my own awareness. The serpent, it moved with me. It was said in translation that the Swokens who were there watched me dance before that serpent, and other serpents soon gathered."

Ferrigo gazed at his grandmother as the light of the primary faded in the sky, revealed deeper blue tones.

"Spirits carried, pulled, thrashed my body as if possessed by a serpent, Fer'k," Lunasa Ordo's eyes lit up again. "I couldn't believe it, really. But, it was only the beginning of my journey, Ferrigo." She pointed to the instrument that he held in his hands. "I'd heard music in a familiar range of tones, from a bes'bev. The very one you hold now."

"Who played it, Grandma?" Ferrigo asked and slightly lifted the flute in his hands.

"Another of our clan, played that flute." Lunasa said sheepishly. "But he handed it to me, and I played it. And boy Fer'k, did I play it. More beautifully than I ever have since."

"My goodness, Gammy. This is amazing." Ferrigo gushed.

"And I played for longer than I could have imagined possible for a girl of seventeen Summers," she closed her eyes and shifted in her spot, as her shoulders and rear moved slightly to the unheard music of her youth. "The serpents were said to have swayed and danced as I still moved along with the music I made. And by the time I finished, I was numb. I handed the flute back to the man who handed it to me."

Ferrigo leaned forward as a breeze gently lifted and released locks of the greying hair of his grandmother.

"And in his full, beautiful, naked glory, an unharmed Teddor Velrrus walked toward me with a broad smile." Lunasa smiled and gasped. "From behind the schinga that I saw eat him."

"How is that even possible, alive and grinning?" Ferrigo jerked in his seat and squeezed the bes'bev. "He was slashed in two and eaten, right?"

She nodded and chuckled. "Boy, I nearly osiked myself!"

"Well, Gammy? How is it possible?" Ferrigo seemed to forget his own miraculous experience until that moment.

Grandmother Lunasa continued and stuck her hand out as it pointing out a flat path. "But he insisted that he had passed into death and that it was the music of that flute that called him from joining the Manda, and my healing powers that made him whole inside the very beast that seemed to consume him."

"You are osik bombing me, aren't you, Gammy?"

"Ferrigo, you must share this knowledge with the spiritual inheritor of my power," Lunasa Ordo was solemn. "Redar Velrrus." Her eyes lit up with pleading hope.

Ferrigo felt the weight of his conscience. He shook his head. "Gammy Luna, I am Redar Velrrus."

She turned her head and growled. "Fierfekkin think I don't know that? Who the shabla kriff do you think you're dealing with here?"

Ferrigo gaped at his grandmother's sudden outburst of profanity until she guffawed and held onto the log because she laughed so heartily.

"You mean you've been playing with me all along?" Ferrigo asked through his grandmother's wailing laughter.

Within half a minute, Lunasa Ordo had collected herself and wiped her eyes dry. "Yes, cyar'ika. But, truthfully. I have always known that you carry the gifts of seeing and healing. The Jedi Order actually came for you when you were maybe two years old. I told your parents to keep hold of you."

"Wait. What?" Ferrigo held up his hands.

"The Jedi Order came to take you in," Lunasa nodded. "I told your parents to tell them that you were not to be taken."

"Why?" Ferrigo was slightly upset.

"Do you think you would have had the life you have lived if you were a Jedi, Ferrigo? Be reasonable in your answer. I know you. I know how you've lived. There's a Twi'lek girl in Keldabe, blue skin, unmarked. Clean. She's carrying your child."

"How do you...?" Ferrigo was more upset.

"You must not have listened or experienced the last hour or so, Grandson." Lunasa held up her hands. "With the help of spirits, I see in the dark. I also help others to heal. Including plants and animals. What I've been telling you is that you have this ability in you, too. It was only a matter of time that you would come to experience and realize this. And I knew that you had. But you lied, right to my face, Fer'k."

"Well, I'm sorry, Gammy Luna," Ferrigo now felt embarrassment. "I am sort of on the run from a number of beings that want to kill me." He collected his thoughts and turned again to her. "Did that thing with the schingas really happen to you, Gammy?"

"Well, cyar'ika, yes and no," Lunasa motioned her hands as if balancing. "Teddor Velrrus was Herligo Prosstang, then the Clan Chieftain. He and I knocked boots and buckets together. He was amazing. But he didn't pop back out from the schinga. He died. But we had a daughter together."

"Before or after you met Grandpa Ordo?"

"I want you to think of something...Schingo." Lunasa said firmly. "I loved your Grandfather Ordo. But he was not an easy man to get along with. Herligo Prosstang was the Aliit'alor Prosstang and I met him first, and fell in love with him first. He was almost thirty years older than me. He almost defeated one of your grandfather's brothers in combat to become Mand'alor. But that didn't happen. But he did defeat your grandfather, and showed him mercy."

"So why did you marry Grandpa?"

"Herligo Prosstang was your Grandpa Prosstang's older brother, Fer'k." Lunasa seemed tired and a little sad. "He had a major chip on his shoulder, literally, after he lost to your Grandpa Sorgeren's brother. Sorgeren's brother was quite a di'kut. He cut several of Herligo's tendons in his shoulders so he couldn't balance to walk properly after their combat."

"That doesn't sound honorable."

"So, I loved Herligo anyway. But in his pride, he put impressing me ahead of common sense, at least that's what I thought when he took me to Makem Te and approached the Dokes family. A family who were and are renowned breeders of schingas."

"Yeah, I think I'm following you, Gammy, but this is all pretty convoluted."

"I was carrying Herligo's baby when he brought me to Makem Te. He told me he had danced with schingas since he was a young man, and that he was known as the serpent master to the Dokes family when he visited. They were very kind to us, the Swokes Swokes. But the schinga..." Grandmother Lunasa sniffled and sobbed softly for a few counts. "I dwelled on this for years, even after I had married Sorgeren Ordo. The schingas must have sensed his impairment and the need to protect the young in my womb."

Ferrigo gasped. "They killed and ate Herligo Prosstang to protect you and your baby...from a weakened member of our species? Maybe he had lost his will to live."

Lunasa gathered herself again. "But Herligo was a brighter light spiritually than I'd given him credit for, Ferrigo."

"How so?" Ferrigo lifted the flute and shrugged. "Seems like he sacrificed himself unnecessarily."

"Seems that way to the simple, who can't see." Lunasa scolded. "I want you to think on this, grandson."

"Think on what?" Ferrigo asked, a bit dazed from all of the powerful revelations that shifted his understanding of his grandmother and other blood relations.

"I can still talk to Herligo Prosstang. He believes."

"Was this serpent, this schinga that ate Herligo Prosstang, named Klsvrrrngg?"

"Finally," Lunasa grinned. "You understand."

Ferrigo fainted, and slumped onto the ground.

A Visionary Message from Manda
''-I am yours. All yours.-''

The soft, feminine voice called to him.

-''I am your destiny, Mandalore. As sure as you are mine. There will be none to compare.''-

He sat up, with cloudy mist seemingly all around him as he sat in a narrow forest clearing with younger trees situated around its oblong shape. The trees looked familiar.

Who are you?

''-We come from the same place. Someday we will be together again. My Mandalore.-''

He saw in his mind a vision of destruction, and explosions, people fleeing collapsing buildings.

''The House of Honor! The Prosstang Palace!''

-''Do not despair. We shall rebuild. Together. All of your children. And Mine. Mandalore. The uniter shall restore.-''

Ferrigo stood up and the mist resettled as he walked through the clearing. Light from a primary seemed to burn through the mist ahead as the narrow path debouched into a large field. He walked for some time and looked at the trees that surrounded the wet, grassy field that he strode through. Ferrigo approached a rising slope with a dense mix of young veshok and galek trees at the edge of the clearing opposite from his point of origin. Ferrigo heard soft and pleasing music, from a flute.

Have I not followed your guidance?

-You have followed your heart.-

Ferrigo hiked up the gentle slope and entered a narrow path that bisected a dense collection of young trees. He heard insects and avians make noises that blended over the top of the gentle waves of flute music. He sensed that he could almost understand what each of the noises communicated to unseen companions. And the flute music seemed to coordinate and support the fauna. He felt energy...healing energy.

He saw and heard a faint breeze pick up strength in a well-lit clearing not far ahead. The silver galek leaves flashed and darkened as they fluttered in the breeze. Ferrigo gawked as he saw a pale-skinned, blonde-haired woman sitting on a bench made from fallen veshok timber. From her profile alone, she was amazingly beautiful. Her long hair was pulled up above her fine ears, also showing her neck. He could see her voluptuous figure under her white gown of natural fibers that had a soft glow. She held a bes'bev in her delicate hands, and played music that warmed his soul.

Ferrigo gasped as she lowered the flute to her dress-covered lap and turned to face him. Her face was exquisitely gorgeous. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He could swear that he had seen her before. Her forehead, cheeks and rounded chin perfectly framed her full, pouty, red lips, gently-sloped nose and captivating green eyes. She was luminous, divine. The top of her bosom was generously-displayed, her cleavage took Ferrigo's breath away and caused him to glance down with surprise and embarrassment.

As he returned his gaze to the maiden's sparkling green eyes, he could see children playing behind her, their laughter and squeals of delight faint. She seemed instantly to have aged after he had returned his glance from below, as the children gathered around her knees. Ferrigo's breath was taken again and he was sure he gasped audibly. The young woman was even more luminous. And gorgeous. She smiled faintly at him in a way that seemed somehow familiar.

-''All yours. You will be a wonderful mate. A loving husband. A kind and generous father. And a leader of our peoples. You will be so loved.''-

A series of moving images, in other places, he saw himself above this goddess. Entering her very being with everything he had. Her flesh made his. In couplings that were a mix or alternation of tender, passionate, gentle and ardent. He saw her stomach swell before his very eyes, as he possessed her.

''I don't understand. Who are you?''

Awake
Ferrigo woke up laying on a bed in a small, cozy room lit by dancing candle flames.

He sighed. "Where am I?"

"Sleeping in peace, Grandson." The voice of his grandmother soothed him.

"About time you woke up," Melaa Kuporr-Ur'mogg said tartly. "You've been out for over half an hour, according to my mom."

"Your mom?" Ferrigo sat up from the bed, confused as he saw that he was in a small bed chamber with Melaa, a large man assumed to be her husband, Grandmother Lunasa and a woman around the same age as Ferrigo's mom.

"You remember, Amaana Kuporr?" Melaa teased. "My mom?"

The other woman, Amaana Kuporr, smiled.

"He might not remember much," Lunasa cautioned softly. "He was dreaming very soundly."

"Think he been knocked out by sump'em?" the tall, heavy man asked, his hand on Melaa's shoulder.

"No, he's just full of himself." Melaa stood up and put her hand around the large man's waist. "Get up, Ferrigo."

"Very funny, Kup." Ferrigo shook his head. "Is this Trag?"

"Yup," the large man extended his hand, and Ferrigo shook it. "I'm Tragi'il Ur'mogg. Melaa's husband."

"Pleasure to me meet you, Tragi'il. And sorry for not recognizing you, Cousin Amaana." Ferrigo glanced over at Grandmother Lunasa.

"Are you going to be okay, ad'ika?" Amaana spoke up from around Melaa and her man.

"Elek, Am'buir," Melaa said with slight impertinence, as Amaana Kuporr emerged from behind the considerable size of her son-in-law. "He's going to be fine. What was he doing here?"

"Uhhh. I'm still here, Melaa." Ferrigo tilted his head and lifted his hand and brow with humor.

"Well, then." Melaa turned away from Ferrigo slightly as she began to walk toward the village. "What were you doing here?"

Ferrigo considered everything he had experienced. The visions. The stories of Grandmother Lunasa. He looked at his grandmother and Amaana Kuporr, and neither showed inclinations to speak.

"I'm famished. What's for dinner?"

Risky Business, Part II (47 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I trust that business has been going well, and that we’re here to receive news of expanded trade links to the Core Worlds?” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Well, Senator, it’s not been as easy as expected. Those contacts have not been as forthcoming with their support as you thought they would be.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You are profiting, aren’t you?” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Yes, I am, but there are problems on the horizon.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I do believe your colleagues in the Commerce Guild will stand with you. It would make sense for the rest to fall in line.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“As always, you’re probably right.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Of course, Lord Prosstang. There are no troubles that can’t be overcome.” ''

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Naboo Senator Sheev Palpatine receives the confidence of Q’osstigo Prosstang, the chief executive of Prosstang Industries.

Finding a Place in Prosstang Industries
Within a few months of Ferrigo's return to Mandalore, Q'osstigo and his brother Rappretto Prosstang, approached Ferrigo about taking a more active role in Prosstang Industries. It took a significant peace offering on the part of the father to appease Ghetta Dehet, while he retrieved full autonomy in the grooming of his son in the business.

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, as well as the design of weapons and armor systems. From his uncle Rappretto, he learned more about labor relations, contract negotiations and identifying opportunities for reducing costs and maximizing profits. Tetch Kuporr explained labor managment and contracting with unions. Ferrigo knew that he would apply the teachings to his own companies held through his efforts as Schingo Velrrus.

It was also during this time that Ferrigo and Rappretto’s son, Jannigo Prosstang, along with several of Ferrigo's True Mandalorian colleagues were also contracted by Prosstang Industries to provide security for the growing fleet of freighters. Prosstang Security was once again reconstituted, but Ferrigo was appointed as the Chief Security Officer. The position once held by Preniik Su'uleezs.

Concordia Meeting Strengthens Prosstang MIning on Bandomeer
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. Ferrigo and his cousin Jannigo wore fully red-painted  beskar'gam with the markings of Prosstand Industries Security. Ferrigo's armor bore additional markings of the Chief Security Officer. His helmet was clipped to his utility belt.

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. "We can carry on business with or without their presence."

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 chestplate. "That would *clik-bzzz-bweep* lead to increased transport costs to us..."

"Doesn't Prosstang Industries have its own contracted security?" Lorca Oviedo asked.

Q'osstigo Prosstang raised his hands expansively. "Well..."

Ferrigo leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the table near his father's seat. "Yes, we have access to the best cargo security staff in the Outer Rim, if not the galaxy."

Palpatine's lips tightened at the corners into a smirk. "Haven't we already discussed 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 sixteen 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 the New Mandalorian government and much more," the Senator shifted in his seat and leaned slightly forward. "Complications that might greatly reduce the benefits of the arrangements you seek to offer all of the parties here. As well as the general welfare of Outer Rim systems."

Ferrigo glowered a shade of dark pink, somewhat lessened by the growth of a short, but full beard. Ferrigo shook his head slightly after seeing his young cousin begin to raise his blaster rifle. He then glanced at his father and uncle, neither of whom stood ground in defense of the Prosstang Industries security team.

"Senator. What do you propose?" Presidente Shu Mai asked earnestly with some impatience.

Emir Tambor added a question and observation. "Who shall provide the needed protection? Our member manufacturers can create droid security units...but that is not legal."

Senator Palpatine inhaled and his eyebrows raised. "I'm not sure of the options. The Chommel Sector has had some benefit in working with the Trade Federation and its limited allowance for security units to protect its vessels and facilities from piracy. But that is not without controversy."

"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 and looked 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," the older Prosstang walked 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.

Checking In With His Network
Later that evening, after returning from Concordia to Mandalore he contacted his network of females from the privacy of his suite at the Prosstang Castle. Their businesses were generally succeeding.

Bekkah Tettix and her Mandalorian husband, Durrk Trant'tu, were expecting their first child together. Her son by Schingo, Ned'rigo, was happily learning how to raise animals and crops, and many other farmers on Saleucami were kind to her family in sharing their knowledge and skills as needed.

Baralla Gejjuk and their infant daughter Larra lived alone in a secured residential block in one of the upper levels of Coruscant's underworld. Baralla was busy with engineering work, and shared some interesting concepts for incorporating flared panels on long-haul freighters that would otherwise appear to be large, floating boxes.

Hua'la Rassan was having success in her work as an export agent for Warrior Lust Trading Company, but even more startlingly pleasing news, her singing talent won her a main role in a long-term opera production on Alderaan.

A Tangled Deception
Ferrigo had just removed the decryption from the datacard given to him a few months before by his mother.

In the background, Teena slept soundly in their bed at the Oyu'baat. Pregnancy meant many more hours of sleep for his female Twi'lek concubine. Ferrigo smiled as he gazed at her for a moment in the faint light from the desk lamp. Teena was easy to love. She had bloomed in their relationship, becoming even more attractive to him as she came into her own. She did little things to please him, out of the bedroom suite, to remind him of her loving care for him.

Teena had also become a proficient amateur spy; she gathered information about almost every bounty hunter who entered the Oyu'baat for Ferrigo to consider, record, analyze and review. His encoded 'job' for the database of the Mandalorian Tom'yc Beroyase, or Allied Bounty Hunters, had practically extinguished attempts to collect a bounty on Redar Velrrus by using an algorithm that would instantly generate and distribute a bounty contract on the being that had just accepted a contract for Velrrus. The value of the hunt-the hunted contract was set to calculate at one million credits greater than the contract on Velrrus.

Ferrigo returned his attention to the datapad on the desk and reviewed the data packets. He held back his long, still-damp brown hair from his forehead with both elbows on the desk. ''Horrox Leron is receiving funds from Prosstang Industries. Why?''

After another few hours, Ferrigo was able to unlock a few more files. Notes written by his father. One note read:

''Leron complained about insufficiency of payment and progress on Operation: Undermine. I explained that favors were called in. May have to talk with Sig about plans for expanding security force for PI and official support of contracts for third party firms. Clear through cab or see changes there. Not amused by this insistence on outside firms. GD using every bit of leverage to push me out of comfort zone. Not sure who is running who. HL or GD?''

Another note read:

''Feel guilty. Told SP loved her. She is furious still about our son's absence. Trying to get in touch with him, bring him back home. GD is all over this, insisting she bring him in. Not sure which is worse. Having a past with her or knowing she intends to entrap my son.''

And finally:

''HL seems determined to bring TaggeCo and Merr-Sohn to the table at the Cabinet meetings. I would foul the man. GD is in his corner, telling me what needs to happen. If I knew that no one else would be hurt...A huge mistake I made in letting her into my life. Now GD says that HL is to replace the Trade Minister, and I had better not speak against the effort. That would put SP in hard place, I told her - GD only smiled. I am angry that she has me in her clutches. I've sold my soul to Arasuum.''

Ferrigo gazed at the desk blankly.

"What is it, my love?" Teena's soft voice broke his concentration. "You're troubled?"

Ferrigo stood from the chair, turned and gazed at Teena as she laid nude on the bed. He removed his robe and placed it over the chair before crawling onto the bed. Without a word, the Mandalorian satisfied his hunger by opening and tasting his Twi'lek lover, again. She moaned and held his head and hair firmly to her and guided him in his pleasuring ways until she cried out and grabbed for her own ankles and pulled them back to the sides of her shoulders.

Ferrigo groaned into his sweet lover's nest and soon rose to cradle Teena and find himself locked inside of the warmth of that nest. He was particularly careful to brace his weight as he bounced his Twi'lek playmate, the expectant mother of his baby, into the bed. Their passionate kissing muffled the ecstatic ripples of sensation and emotion. Ferrigo looked at Teena and their union, seeing himself repeatedly, lovingly stab her with his genetic sword. The sight of her darkened blue genetic sheath as it attempted to grip his substantial girth caused them both to gaze at each other and let out a moaning yell punctuated by deep kisses as Prosstang joyfully released burst after burst of his essence. Teena lost control of her shaking core muscles and screamed when she could no longer bite her lip closed.

Ferrigo rolled his little Twi'lek lover onto her side and maintained their deep connection for a long time after. Filling her with his joy until it became theirs. She held onto his arms as he draped himself around her.

"Love you, Teena." Ferrigo muttered, groaned, and gasped softly.

"I love you Schingo." Teena turned her head and kissed Ferrigo hungrily, and ground her hips into him and caused him to wince and coo.

Ferrigo gripped her tightly in his arms as she smiled and giggled. And gripped him with everything she had. Seen and unseen. Her human lover moaned aloud and she gasped and chuckled at his reactions. Ferrigo drew the covers over them and they soon thereafter fell asleep.

A Path Forward, Advice Sought
Duke Bieldo, the New Mandalorian regent, looked at the gathered ministers, staff, and guests that sat before him in the conference chamber of durasteel and delicately-etched glass. The air in the chamber seemed heavy and still, though streams of white-aqua blue light dazzled through the angled ceiling and moderately high walls of glass panels to show microscopic grains of sand, loose dandruff, and brushed clothing fibers at play. The white sands of the Excision Zones of Mandalore, and Concord Dawn, were particularly notable for their ability to drift into otherwise airtight spaces. "The Parliament is going to vote today. Vote on establishing a position in my cabinet that will effectively handle the adminstration of peace," the Duke gazed at Ferrigo and others, including Horrox Leron, the recently appointed Minister of Trade. Ferrigo wore a red business suit, with his beard trimmed and long hair pulled back into a single band. His father wore a purple suit with dark grey pants, and a yellow accent kerchief in his exterior breast pocket. Signara Ordo-Prosstang wore a pale orange full-length dress.

He looked to his father sitting near, and then his mother, who sat across the chamber among other cabinet staff. Signara Ordo-Prosstang had been released from service by Leron, but was almost immediately hired by the Minister of Interior, Sarv Farr.

Ferrigo and his father were guests, like several representatives from other firms, some headquartered in the Mandalorian Sector. The younger Prosstang had discovered over the past several months that Horrox Leron had ties to the Corporate Alliance, the Commerce Guild, and most specifically with TaggeCo and Merr-Sohn, both active competitors with Prosstang Industries. Q'osstigo had repeatedly asked his wife to strengthen the government's resolve to protect Mandalorian businesses, as pressures were increased by Leron to conform to his direction and philosophy, which favored lowering costs of production to attract larger, pan-galactic firms with the expressed intent to expand the economy quickly.

Sarv Farr, a tall, thin, and older male, raised his voice above the low din of mumbles from the surrounding guests. The Duke used his hands to gently gesture for quiet as the Minister of Interior spoke. "We must be sure to address the growing troubles in our foodbelts. The combatants, whether of the Death Watch or Mereelists, are severely damaging harvests. They have been doing so for over fifteen years."

"What do you mean?" the Duke asked, with a tone of curiosity. "Specifically."

"The rural areas of Mandalore, Concordia, Ordo, and Concord Dawn. They are, and have been, for several years, under attack," Farr spread his hands, and Ferrigo caught his mother's direct gaze as he looked over to her. "Yields of produce have been down, consistently. Any attempt at recovery has been foiled by war, drought, or pestilence. The people need to feed themselves, your Majesty."

"We can have peace, we just need to re-organize, train, and recruit for an expanded military," Horrox Leron looked to Q'osstigo Prosstang. "Only by creating a strong, defensively-minded military can Mandalore restore and ensure peace. And re-establish critical trading partnerships. We can import the food. We need to focus our investment and production in all sectors where the market is heading."

The Duke looked to both of the men to continue the discussion. Ferrigo looked about the room. He blanched slightly, seeing the curly red hair, pasty white skin, and the severe black dress of Ghetta Dehet. She had only recently entered the chamber. Ferrigo saw a medium-height, blue-eyed male with pitch-black hair tied into a tail that rested on the shoulder of his silver-grey suit. As the young man sat down next to Ferrigo's mother, he sensed his father's discomfort.

Farr looked at Horrox Leron. "Our people are not a market, Leron. Mandalorians are farmers. They are workers. They are in need of a healed environment to regenerate our natural resources, so that our people can feed, clothe, and shelter themselves. Imports on a large scale are not the answer. We need to maintain our self-sufficiency and independence."

"You bring those natural resources, then, Minister Farr," Horrox Leron was nearly seething through his leering grin. "So I can draw more trade partners to the Mandalorian Sector willing to make and provide the goods that our people actually want to eat, dress in, and the build kinds of apartments they want to live in. Most of us live in the Excision Zones and can't build anything habitable on our own."

"You would sell Mandalore to the highest bidder," Farr snapped. "And not think twice."

Leron leaned his elbows forward over the table with his hands tightly knotted together. "I'm working on making Mandalore an attractive investment alternative. The Minister of Finance would agree, I think, that your end of the bargain isn't being held up. Maybe the previous Minister of Trade would have agreed with you, Farr, but those days of what you call self-sufficiency are from a bygone era."

The Duke's eyes were alight with excitement. Ferrigo could see the tension in his mother's face.

"I concur," the elderly Minister of Finance, Darg Parffun spoke up. According to his mother, Ferrigo understood, that as the most senior member of the cabinet, Parffun often said little, but carried the greatest weight when he spoke. "We need to enforce a peace in our home territories, reclaim spoiled lands, secure vital resources, and rebuild our revenue streams. Though I can also hold out hope that Sarv is correct. I am no protectionist, but believe that our essential beliefs as Mandalorians include a tenacious will to make our own way first."

Ferrigo leaned forward to whisper into his father's left ear. "Who is against us here, father?"

Q'osstigo turned slightly to his left and returned a whisper into Ferrigo's right ear. "Hard to tell. Keep your eyes and ears open. Is that your friend talking to your mother?"

Ferrigo glanced at the young human male with long black hair, and shifted again toward his father. "Don't know him."

"Get to know him." Q'osstigo Prosstang had a dour look to match the solemn tone of his whisper.

Ghetta Dehet moved in the background, and nodded toward Ferrigo, or his father.

"Was that for you, buir?" Ferrigo muttered quietly.

"No, osik, no. Go take care of her."

"Buir, you'd better give me a raise." Ferrigo muttered quietly.

The Duke's voice boomed as Ferrigo stood. "What is the solution?" Duke Bieldo looked at his ministers, then to the rest of those gathered. "We have guests here. Any suggestions?" The regent pointed to Ferrigo. "How about you, young man. Ferrigo Prosstang, Prosstang Industries? What do you think we should do?"

Ferrigo glanced for a moment to his father, and then mother, and Ghetta. "Your Majesty, on behalf of Prosstang Industries, we thank you for the invitation to be party to this discussion. As the chief security officer for Prosstang Indu--"

"No, young Prosstang. I want to hear what you think." The Duke gazed at Ferrigo.

Ferrigo looked at his mom and the young man sitting next to her before returning his full attention to Bieldo. "We need to limit the influence of foreign firms. Re-build our economy based on our ethic of taking care of our own business first." He took a breath and continued. "I think the factions involved in the warfare that propose a larger Mandalore are seeking to do by violence what our people should be doing through our businesses instead. Achieving success in the boardrooms rather than battlefields."

"Well-said, young man," the Duke walked around the table. "So, what of security - or military - for Mandalore?"

Ferrigo shrugged slightly. "I believe that the Mereelists best represent a blending of the humility and commitment that is echoed in the aspirations of the New Mandalorian government in serving our people. Those who served Mereel have the ethic of professional soldiers who would provide unquestioned, loyal service."

"Inflammatory." Several cabinet ministers and staff echoed each other in response.

"How?" Ferrigo narrowed his gaze at the Finance Minister's young, blonde-haired female aide who had spoken loudest. "The Duke asked for my opinion. The desire of you and others to paint my statement as anything other than a patriot's opinion is inflammatory. Minister Parffun, whom you serve, has it spot on in his assessment. Though I believe there are some weaknesses in the assumption that we must rely on imports, I agree that we need to secure our resources for the long term. I believe Prosstang Industries is ready to contribute."

"They are mercenaries," the blonde aide snapped. "Don't try to tell this gathering that there is loyalty to anything besides payment for the likes of Mereel, or those who oppose him. Military expansion is not the answer."

"We will have to disagree, madam."

"My name is Miss Vhell, I'm not madam, I am not married."

"Understood. Totally." Ferrigo sighed, and several people in the chamber allowed slips of laughter to escape their mouths.

"I resent your presence here, Ferrigo Prosstang, and ask that you kindly remove yourself from this meeting." Minister Parffun's aide was impassioned.

The gathering grumbled, mumbled, and cast glances around the room in discomfort, and Ferrigo stood from his seat. "Miss Vhell, I resent your tone, and your obvious sense of entitlement. Perhaps the new Minister of Trade will keep your words to a minimum when it comes to dealing with Prosstang Industries, or other matters of importance that require a more delicate touch, and less self-sanctimony."

The blonde growled and steamed as she stood from her own chair. "Why, you--"

Ferrigo raised his finger in front of the woman's face. "You don't want to do this, Miss Vhell. Not with me." He then walked around the woman and headed toward the door. "Good day, everyone." He exchanged glances with his mother, the young man wearing a grey suit sitting next to her, and Ghetta Dehet on his way out. Dehet followed him.

A Better Ghetta?
"That was brilliant," Ghetta seemed to gush when she caught up to Ferrigo. "But you would do well not to forget that you do represent Prosstang Industries, and the Clan Prosstang." Her smile raised his discomfort, and distrust.

"What do you mean?" Ferrigo braced his hands on the guard rail above the low wall around the Mandalorian Senatorial Offices wing plaza. The thrumming, linear streams of speeder traffic above and below by one quarter kilometer elevation had his visual attention. Two small freighters. One vehicle without proper positional lighting. Several of the latest model MandalMotors coupe speeder, rather expensive.

"Let me start by saying, I'm sorry. Sorry for what I did at the Palace." Ghetta sighed and let her hands rest on the rail a few steps to his left. "It was wrong of me to come on so strong, but I am a Prosstang girl, through and through."

Ferrigo cast a glance toward Ghetta Dehet with only his eyes moving.

"I go after what I want, and--" the redhead was emphatic, smiling.

"I know, you've shown me tha--" Ferrigo turned his face to hers.

"I am Horrox Leron's aide, Ferrigo. He's a powerful man, with many galactic connections. He can bring a great deal of resources to Mandalore, to Prosstang." Ghetta bit her lip and gazed into Ferrigo's eyes. "As your Baroness, I can deliver him to you, Ferrigo."

"Ghetta," Ferrigo gasped slightly. "I don't know what you expect me to say."

"I would expect that as a young man of twenty-one, nearly twenty-two seasons, that you'd consider taking my hand in marriage, fathering my children, and sharing with me in bringing the galaxy to our table." Dehet smiled, seemingly sincere. "And taking everything we could ever want. You and me, with Leron doing our bidding, we could find ourselves at the very top, Ferrigo. No limits."

Ferrigo took a deep breath. In his heart, he was repulsed, but his mind considered the intrigue of Ghetta Dehet's proposal.

Ghetta spoke softly and put her right hand on Ferrigo's left hand. "I know you want to let your mind wander elsewhere, Ferrigo. And I thought I could help provide focus. And hope, for the future. Our future. For Mandalore."

She gazed into his eyes, and he did not look away, despite his urge to do just that. He pondered for a few moments the possible outcomes of bonding with Ghetta, and impacts on his parents, Teena, Cheelie, his children, the Clan Prosstang, and Prosstang Industries. Would this help unravel the tangled mess Ghetta seems to be involved in?

-Follow your heart, my Mandalore.-

Who are you?

"Ferrigo?" Ghetta put her hand on his shoulder. "I am really sorry for everything. I will kiss you and hold you like no other woman ever has, and heal the wounds of the past."

"I am unavailable, Ghetta. I'm already spoken for." Ferrigo turned his back to the rail to face the redhead, her silver-blue eyes flashed with lust.

"Undo that." Ghetta said sternly. "I am ready for you, now. It's time we made an impression on the future. Be my husband, my Aliit'alor, my Mand'alor." Dehet placed her hand on the front of his pants between his legs. " I can give you the galaxy, Ferrigo Prosstang. Just make me your Baroness, and seed me. Tonight."

"Ghetta, as flattered as I am," Ferrigo envisioned himself with many of the other women in his past. "I have to go. I have a meeting to attend immediately. We can talk about this another time."

Ghetta huffed. "Fine."

Prosstang Industries: Fathers & Sons
"Well, son, Leron is a total shabuir as a person, but he's making some reasonable points. But, the fact that he fired your mother and is throwing her ideology under the mag-lev tram right now can't bode well for warm relations."

Ferrigo sat in the reclining chair and looked over to his father. "Ghetta Dehet promised me that if I married her, and made her my Baroness, that she would deliver Horrox Leron and his substantial influence to me."

"That seems," Q'osstigo paused and rubbed his chin and lips with his left hand. "Seems to be a promise that would require substantial commitments. Commitments that a small-town harlot would have a hard time mustering unless there were promises of compensation. Compensation from you."

"I know, father." Ferrigo sat up and took his glass of Alderaanian wine from the table. After taking a sip, he continued while his father paced slowly in thoughtful consideration. "She's clever. But I have the feeling that someone more powerful is pulling her strings."

Ferrigo watched Q'osstigo walk slowly around the table in the room. His father was silent, gazing at the flooring.

"Father, who is pulling your strings?"

...

Knowledge Transfers
Ferrigo continued to learn from his father, uncle and cousins involved in Prosstang Industries. He paid exceptional attention to his father's tutorials and tours of the Prosstang Select Arms Manufacturing facilities so that he better understood the making and marketing of weapons. He did not neglect the growing importance of mineral extraction, nor of the other subsidiary goods and services companies that grew within the Prosstang Industries umbrella.

From time to time, where permitted, Ferrigo discreetly and with great caution assumed his identity as Schingo Velrrus to check in on his business interests, maintain solid relations with his management teams, labor, supply chains and customers. He used the knowledge gained during his time as Ferrigo Prosstang to benefit his official and unofficial support networks. Ferrigo provided funding for scholarships for the Dokes family and other Swokes Swokes who worked at Snapping Schinga Delicacies and wished to explore educational and spiritual opportunities around the galaxy.

At least once every three months, he paid visits to his former slaves who he had once set up to form an informal intelligence network. Only one of the group had ever questioned the arrangement; Raaleena'warlaan. Like Raalee, the others had moved forward in their lives, most remarried but remained connected for the purposes of supporting their business ventures. The ventures begun with Ferrigo's assistance had in some cases morphed into something more meaningful and productive for the individual woman and her family or associates.

Some of these visits were soon followed by execution of bounty hunting contracts that Ferrigo took as Schingo Velrrus, primarily for the Republic Correctional Authority, but also several for various Hutts.

For Love of Cheelie and Their Children
The one of his former slaves who remained otherwise unattached and available to him for the deepest of connections was Cheelie Vyn. With every visit, she threw herself at him, much to his exuberant joy, and their children were quickly upon them making quite a sight for the Dokes, who were accustomed to the rather reserved and quiet Mirialan family of Schingo Velrrus. This visit to Makem Te started no differently.

"Schingo," Cheelie gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes as they sat together on a bench in the shade under an overhang at their small chateau in the baking heat of Makem Te. "Do you love me?"

Ferrigo gazed back at her. ''So achingly beautiful. ''He smiled with a warmth rising in his heart. "Yes. Yes, my gorgeous little pirate. I look at you, all that you are. All that we have together."

Cheelie tilted her head toward his forearm around her neck. "I know you don't want to talk about it. But we have three children. And, I am happy to say, a fourth on the way." She began to smile.

"Cheelie Vyn," Ferrigo inhaled and leaned in close to her, his mouth near hers. "Marry me. Be my wife. MIne. Mine alone."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Cheelie beamed, her white teeth a stark contrast to her primary heat-darkened green skin. They kissed for many counts.

The children had similar skin tones to their mother. All of them were delightful and adorable, and yet without the tattoos for which Mirialans were renowned. Ferrigo played with his son and daughters for a few hours, and Cheelie tracked along with them and stayed in the shade as much as possible - it would be another four hours before the primary had settled behind the range of flatrock in the distance. She occasionally joined in the play, offered snacks of pickled gorg, much to Ferrigo's surprise. She smiled at him and reminded him that it was good business to consume your own goods. He even tried the gorg slices along with some fermented fruits that Cheelie had prepared for the children.

"You know, this isn't half bad." Ferrigo said with his brow raised as the children chased each other, full of joyous energy and laughter.

Cheelie very delicately tapped his shoulder with her fist. "Do you think I will ever be able to fly again, Schingo?"

"Hadn't thought about it, but yeah. Why not?"

"The kids and I do love the Dokes. And all of the Swokens. Despite what I'd heard, they've been very friendly and generous to us." Cheelie bit her lip, squinted her eyes in the light of the primary as it shifted to illuminate their faces directly and turned her face to look into his eyes. "But I think we're ready to come home with you. Wherever you call home. Nar Shaddaa. Mandalore. Wherever. I look into your beautiful eyes, Schingo, and think that I should kiss you every night before you go to sleep and every morning before you get out of bed."

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "Cheelie. I love you. But, I am afraid."

"You're the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, Schingo. You know it." Cheelie smiled and parted her lips to continue. " And a great father to our babies. And you are so very sexy. What's to be afraid of?"

Ferrigo bowed his head, fighting the grin that Cheelie's words opened. "I've lost two women I've loved dearly. And you are a woman I've loved dearly since I first met you. You are so beautiful, and wise. You have experienced many things I've experienced. But I don't want you back in the game, Cheelie. You're safe here. The kids are safe here."

"What about Mandalore? Can't we be safe there? We can fit in there. Your ancestors, Schingo. Our babies. My babies. Need you. I want you. They want you. They need to see other children that are like them. Different, but like them. You know what I mean. Mandalore has that. And I can take care of myself. I might be a little rusty, but I'm good with a blaster."

"Remember what I said about the Clan Prosstang?" Ferrigo asked.

"Yes, but you're a Velrrus. As members of the Velrrus family, we can fit in."

Ferrigo inhaled very deeply to the extent that Cheelie became concerned.

"What is it, Redar?" Cheelie was focused on his face as he turned to her. The kids grabbed at their legs and sought the full attention of their parents.

"Cheelie, I've had to live on the run since I was sixteen. Someone put a wet bounty on me then, and someone collected it on condition that I go into hiding or take on another identity." Ferrigo paused.

"You're not Schingo Velrrus."

Ferrigo shook his head slightly. "No. But I've been freed to follow my passions as Schingo Velrrus, and become what I was trained to be. A warrior. A hunter. And to follow my heart wherever it's led. The person who took the bounty on Ferrigo Prosstang was my first lover. And she told me after we finished that she wouldn't be my girl because she was getting married in a month. To my mentor and best friend."

Cheelie took a deep breath. "So. What do I call you?" Tears formed in her silver-blue eyes. "Can I even trust you?"

"Hod Ha'ran, dala, yes. I love you, Cheelie. I love our family."

"And...others." She said with an incredulous smile.

"Yes, I have," Ferrigo bit his lip and chewed it for a moment. "I can't excuse who I have been. I am a growing man, Cheelie. I'd like to think I'm settling down. I've been burned before. And suffered pain. But I want someone I can come home to that loves me. I want one woman in my life."

"Can you be sure of that, if you don't even know who you are?"

Ferrigo felt like he had been hit with a moving wall. He gasped, and a tear streaked down his cheek.

"I am sorry for you, Schingo. That you-"

Ferrigo stood. "I am Ferrigo Prosstang, Cheelie. I am in line to become the next Chieftain of Clan Prosstang, of which the Velrrus family are a part."

Cheelie's mouth dropped open slightly.

"My family do not allow for recognition of inter-species marriage in our lineage. Pure human blood only, Cheelie. Our children would not be recognized as Prosstangs suited to succeed me. None of my children, unless Iggerina Bacha produced a child and I recognized it, would be allowed to carry the name Prosstang."

"So, you basically had a never-ending bachelor party with all of us slave girls?"

"You're good, Cheelie. Funny. And, somewhat on target from where things began. But that's not how I feel about you, and some of the other girls."

"Very much on target, I'd say." The Mirialan seemed to fume. "And the other girls. You have had this conversation with them, too?"

"I did with Raalee, Bekkah and Aallys. And you." Ferrigo said wistfully.

Cheelie stirred her black and purple-striped hair away from her forehead and held it back with one hand as she watched the children play. "You can't promise me anything, Ferrigo Prosstang."

Ferrigo sat back down and held his chest. "I love you, Cheelie. And our children. That I can promise."

"I'll stay here with the kids, Mr. Prosstang."

Ferrigo stood up again. "I had to run! I had to change my name, Cheelie. My father insisted on it. He arranged for me to take on security assignments. And over the course of a few of those jobs, I fell in love with a Zeltron woman. A pilot for the family company. I had to stay in hiding until someone figured out who was willing to rub me out, Cheelie."

The beautiful Mirialan crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Well, that Zeltron woman," Ferrigo paused and caught his breath. "She became pregnant. With my first baby. Only the second woman I'd ever been with. I gave her a necklace I received from the Dokes, and asked her to marry me. But she said that wasn't the Zeltron way, and I left her, feeling turned away. And someone killed her before my very eyes, throwing her from her high-rise apartment before I could reach the ground." Prosstang gasped and sobbed gently. With an inhale he continued. "But the necklace was gone."

"I'm sorry," Cheelie looked at Ferrigo with sympathy, tears dropped from her tattooed cheeks.

"Then, three years ago, I proposed to Aallys and we married in a simple Mandalorian ceremony. An exchange of vows. After a while of shopping separately for gifts, someone discovered her dying on a public bench. I found her near death, crying with a gaping hole in her chest. Someone shot her with an acid-filled dart that ate through her flesh and organs. But the necklace I had given to the Zeltron lover three years before was around the neck of our Aallys."

Cheelie's mouth opened wider in horror.

"It makes me sad to hear you say it, Cheelie. But you're right. I don't know who I am. Or maybe, don't know who I should be. To have a life where I alone am the hunter and hunted. My family safe and out of it."

"Schingo Velrrus. I love you, and wish you could give yourself freely to me. And only me." Cheelie said coldly, but with tears dripping down her cheeks. "But stay away from our family."

Ferrigo gaped and turned from his beloved Mirialan ex-pirate and their beautiful young children. He cried with silent screams as he walked to his speeder and departed for the Thousand Thousand Spaceport.

''Manda. Where are you? Am I supposed to be loved? Have I messed everything up by being with these slaves? Am I supposed to be with...Ghetta Dehet?''

A Grievous Loss
On entering The Serpent's Pride, Ferrigo checked in with Deevee-Eight and Wait-For as he dressed in his grey, with red trim beskar'gam. Schingo Velrrus. Fully-equipped with some technology modifications made since his time back with Prosstang Industries. He fidgeted with his right gauntlet until it was properly fit to the fuel lines for the flamethrower.

''-Go get her. Get your children. Now.-''

"Deevee-Eight. Please send communications to Terggol that Makem Te needs Snapping Schinga Delicacies imports and has exports ready for Brilliant Chemical. Authorizations are already a go here. And make sure the boys all get a raise and bonus. It's been a good year."

"Yes, sir, Master Velrrus." the protocol droid voice in his helmet paused for a moment. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Tell the Dokes that the Velrrus family will be leaving for an extended vacation to visit with their clan relatives. And that I'll be back next month for Oakie Dokes' birthday gala. Oh, I'm also bumping up the scholarships to cover trips to Coruscant for each of the Dokes children."

"Oh my, sir. For how long is each pupil permitted to stay?" Deevee-Eight seemed to have a better grasp on the bottom line finances than Ferrigo.

"Your call, Deeve."

Ferrigo walked down the ramp and clear away from the ancient, but refurbished D5 Mantis before activating his weapons systems and jetpack. He clucked his tongue after lifting high above ground level. "Velrrus Compound on Dokes Estate." His HUD displayed a multi-colored holo image of the map and adjusted to three dimensional view to show terrain along his course and macro threat identification. No threats were displayed.

Cheelie tended to the children on a balcony of the small chateau. Ferrigo spotted her and the children in his HUD. He accelerated his flight toward them. He was sure she could hear and see him streaking like a missile toward her. Twenty meters from the balcony, he swung his legs forward to point them to the deck ten meters from Cheelie and the children. The children ran screaming to their mother as Ferrigo landed.

He clucked his tongue. Loud. "Pack up your things, we're leaving."

"What?!" Cheelie was incredulous. "I told you, leave us alone!"

"You're coming with me. You want to see Mandalore. That's where we're going."

"NO! We're not going!" Cheelie shouted angrily, and the children screamed and cried, cowering from Ferrigo behind their mother.

"Fierfek, Cheelie! Something's not right!" Ferrigo blurted.

"YOU! You're not right!" Cheelie Vyn's silver-blue eyes rolled up as she turned away from him.

Zzzipp! A mist of red flew ahead of Cheelie and Ferrigo as he attempted to lean around to grab her shoulders from behind to turn her around to face him again.

"Rear array!" Ferrigo yelled. "Echuta!! Down kids!!" He grabbed Cheelie and fell to the deck on his right oblique backside with her tucked into his chest. The children scurried screaming.

"Sherno! Get lil' sissy down!! NOW!!! Tron'ika, DOWN BABY!!!" Ferrigo repeatedly moved his hand in downward motions.

Ferrigo looked on as his beautiful two year old daughter. Tro'ana gazed dumbly at him, and Cheelie, with fear and tears in her eyes. He set Cheelie down on the deck and saw a large open wound on her left shoulder. She a blank gaze of shock on her face, and her dark lips trembled.

"Hod Ha'ran!!" Ferrigo shouted, and saw Cellia, their four year old daughter to his left. Cellia was tucked against the wrought-iron retaining wall of the balcony. "Stay down, Cel'ika!!"

''Safe. For now. ''

"Hang on Cheelie baby!!" Ferrigo shifted his weight and got into a crouch.

"Daddy!! What's happening?!" Sherno, the twin brother of Cellia asked as he mimicked his father and got up from a crouch to grab his baby sister.

"Down, kids!!" Ferrigo leapt toward his children. His grasping take-down was sloppy, and yet he hoped they had made the deck safely, now below his profile. Between them and the sniper.

He looked to see the deck, chairs, table and exterior walls covered with blood. His son and toddler daughter, in his arms, were disfigured from large, smoldering wounds. Sherno gasped and trembled violently. "Daaaa-ddeee..." His son fell limp in his gloved hands. Most of his baby girl Tro'ana was gone from the chest and above.

Ferrigo screamed and stood up. "Take ME!!! Hod Ha'ran!!!" He began to stride, and pounded his chestplates. Prosstang was knocked off of his feet from the kinetic force of a blast in the center of his chest armor. He landed on the patio table, which broke under his thrown weight. He gathered himself quickly to his feet again and swaggered angrily toward the edge of the balcony.

"Daddy!" Cellia screamed. "Down, Daddy!!"

Ferrigo looked down toward his left to regard his daughter and was sent hard onto his back, into the remains of his other children. He groaned and checked his HUD.

''You have to pull it together, Pross. These people aren't professionals. They're hitting children. Pull it together. Cheelie. Check Cheelie. Klsvrrrngg. Help us.''

Ferrigo rolled over deftly and crawled over to Cheelie, and removed a medpack from his cargo pocket and opened it after he moved himself to cover Cheelie from any weapons fire. Prosstang applied a pain relief injection and placed several bacta patches like a quilt over her left shoulder. "Baby. Stay with us."

Cheelie's eyes startled and she gasped. "Pain. You. Killing us. You."

"Cheelie, don't talk. I need to move you." Ferrigo's HUD registered several surprisingly loud pings in close proximity. He reached his right gauntlet forward, over Cheelie.

Inside his helmet, he shouted. Tracinya! A rope of flame coated the balcony door and Ferrigo turned back toward his right to receive a blast of white energy in his chest armor. ''Ion blaster. ''He unleashed more flame into the window where the Mandalorian trooper had leaned out.

"You don't need to move her, Velrrus."

Ferrigo's blood ran cold as he heard a familiar deep voice, and looked up. Standing over him, with his daughter Cellia in a choke hold against his beskar'gam-covered chest was a forgotten part of his past.

"Daddy! Daddy! Why Daddy?!" her blue eyes shone like his own. Ferrigo fought back tears and rage.

"Hey, little girl. Ask your Daddy to get your Mommy to give us a look. You have a special little show for Mommy and Daddy." The heavy set, muscular Mandalorian with cut-off blue flight-suit sleeves lifted Ferrigo's Mirialan daughter higher from the deck against his faded and scratched gold beskar'gam with his forearm against her throat. His daughter gasped and grimaced.

Cheelie turned her face in horror to see the large man with their daughter. A loud commotion downstairs erupted as the sounds of hard metal piercing or chopping flesh and bone were punctuated with horrific screams, shrieks and growls.

"Showtime is over little girl. Say goodnight, Mommy. Say goodnight, Schingo."

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Ferrigo growled.

The T-visor of the gold and blue helmet focused directly on Ferrigo. "Sending your clan leader a message."

Ferrigo fired a dart into the right leg of his daughter's assailant and reached to touch his right gauntlet button. Instantaneously, the brute pulled the trigger on a small blaster placed against the side of his daughter, sending Cellia from her body. As the big man convulsed with a charge of electricity that ran through his body, he dropped Cellia's remains in front of Ferrigo. Still seething with rage, Prosstang swept his left leg over his child's remains and kicked the outside of the big Mandalorian's right shin. The tormenter yelled, hopped and staggered away from Ferrigo, who got up to stand between Cheelie and any attacker he could identify by sight or electronic means.

"It ain't over, Velrrus!" the man laughed. "I know you've got more kids left."

Ferrigo tapped the button again and staggered to his feet while holding it down for five counts. The large man trembled and jerked with blue arcs of electricity jumping over his armor to his joints and other bones until he started to smoke. "Kriff it, Montross! Taste the pain, osik. I am the instrument of your fear."

The large man screamed as his skin began to melt, and sent a reeking odor through the air.

"Without limit!! Die motherkriffer!!" Ferrigo roared with righteous fury.

-You may be known by the wake you leave.-

Ferrigo let up the button, whirled around in a leftward spin as he drew and activated his dark-saber from over his right shoulder. His blade deflected a blaster bolt into the wall of the chateau as Prosstang made his charge. With a series of sinuous movements, his blade deflected one more shot and he took another shot into one of his beskar plates before the whistling chirp of his purple-glowing black blade raised several tones with the removal of both hands of the Mandalorian trooper that stood before him.

The colors and mark of Clan Vizsla!

"Here, hold this for me," Ferrigo seethed at the handless trooper as he slid the point of his dark-saber blade below the abdominal armor plate of the trooper's armor until the blade showed through the man's back. "Oh, changed my mind, need to put it blade-down." Ferrigo growled, withdrew the blade, and spun as he raised his elbows. He cleanly removed the head of the trooper before stopping his spin with a flourish that had his right fist slam the tang of the blade against the stump of the man's cauterized neck. The dead body continued to stand, shake, and dance. Ferrigo, wounded, and emotionally-damaged, continued his morbid fascination with this man's death and lifted his right boot to push the dead Clan Vizsla man's back into the wall with a kick. As the man's body finally began to slump to its knees, Ferrigo withdrew the handle of his dark-saber from his body.

"Sorry, I don't have any spit or urine left to bless you for taking my family from me." Ferrigo turned and held his blade straight upward into air.

Ferrigo looked into the distance after seeing an image in his mind of a trooper with a long-barreled sniper rifle. He swung his dark-saber blade and deflected most of a large blaster bolt into to distance to his right. He felt the sting of part of the blast warm his chest. The dark-saber fell out of his hand from the jolt of energy that his armor had absorbed. He focused on his target in his HUD and concentrated on the image of that trooper. He crushed his left hand into a fist and gritted his teeth. He could see the Mandalorian Death Watch sniper gripping at his throat until he fell from sight. Ferrigo let his fist relax and coughed hard, before he leaned down to pick up his weapon and then walked carefully toward Cheelie.

Montross was gone.

Giving Chase to The Atrocious
"Deevee-Eight. Prepare the medical bay."

Several Swokes Swokes guardians arrived on the deck and talked to Ferrigo, and helped him to collect his children. Cheelie was placed onto a small repulsorsled and Ferrigo walked alongside her.

Deusa Dokes placed his hand on Ferrigo's armored shoulder and said in Swoken as they strolled toward a speeder. "I am sorry for what happened. We arrived soon as we could. We are so sorry for loss of your family, our friend."

Ferrigo put his arm around the Swokes Swokes and responded in Swoken. "I am sorry too. It was peaceful here for them. And for you. I will find hunt these people down. For what they did to my wife. To my family. To your lands." Prosstang paused. "Keep an eye on my wife. Her shoulder needs immediate attention. Bacta tank, if you have one available. I'm going to see if I can track those goons."

Ferrigo backed away from the Swokes Swokes and launched from the deck until he was one hundred meters above the ground. He surveyed as he hovered in a small circle, quickly reading the data in his HUD. No threats identified.

This isn't right.

Ferrigo immediately turned toward Thousand Thousand's spaceport and headed there at top speed with his arms and gloved hands tucked against his body. His jetpack began to falter as he neared the spaceport. He was deep into town.

''Klsvrrrngg. Help me. ''

Ferrigo swung his feet under and forward and took a rough landing at a staggered lope until he gained a smoother running stride. His gear bounced as he ran.

''Damn gear. I thought I gave you a look over. ''Nothing showed in his HUD. Suddenly, to his left he saw a long, thick, jagged-headed purple serpent with golden yellow eyes.

"Klsvrrrngg!" Ferrigo leapt up into the air, spreading his legs as the serpent quickly darted its head under his descending body. Caught in mid-jump, the Mandalorian grabbed the schinga shikou, his old friend, as firmly as he could to hold on for a speeding ride down the street. "I've missed you friend. Wish I had called you earlier. Lost my family."

-Hold on to the present, they will find their home.-

The purple schinga slithered with a blur of undulating movements that swept them quickly forward past several swoop bikes. As the gateway sign to the Spaceport neared, Klsvrrrngg sped forward one last burst as he straightened out and sent another undulating wave from his tail toward his head, launching Ferrigo from just beyond the sign into the air.

-''Go, friend. I will be near.''-

Ferrigo spotted five Mandalorian armor-wearing individuals in two clusters before he landed on the ground running. Three of them wore helmets that had the tell-tale visor barbs sticking from either side. Death Watch. They were standing near The Serpent's Pride. The other two were quite contrasting from the other three, and each other.

Osik'la HUD! His helmet systems were malfunctioning. His jetpack was also off-line.

The taller and much larger of the remaining two seemed prepared to board a variant on a Corellian G9 Rigger freighter. He had a blue short sleeves and faded golden beskar'gam armor plates. His comrade wore gold and orange-trimmed armor plates. Suited for a Nite Owl. The plates were not large enough to cover her whole torso.

Ferrigo immediately bent at the waist and barked into his vocal receptor. "Tra'cyar!! Fierfekkers!!"

Nothing.

Prosstang could see well enough that the female was touching her red gauntlets. He heard a loud click behind his neck.

"Or'osik!!" Ferrigo spun himself and dropped toward the ground. "De-mag!!" he yelled into his helmet to release the magnetic field holding the jetpack on his back armor plate. "Osik!!"

His HUD blinked with a scratch of static then displayed a loathsome face.

"Guess this is the end, Sparky!" Ghetta Dehet smiled, her silver-blue eyes bright with delight. "You oughtta choose your women better. Or maybe stop trying to muscle your way into favor with the clan leaders." The redhead growled, shook and rattled tempestuously.

Ferrigo pulled his dark-saber from over his right shoulder and activated it. He attempted to break the magnetic seal by forcefully slamming the left side of his jetpack into the durasteel deck.

"You sure that's the smart thing to do with a jetpack, bad boy?"

"You're dead." Ferrigo deactivated, but still held the dark-saber in his right hand.

"Someday," Dehet said coyly, before gushing with laughter. "Long after you're gone, Velrrus."

Ferrigo continued to pound the jetpack into the deck, hearing and feeling a shift in its position against his backplate.

"Your death is gonna mean nobody to keep me from sowing the seeds of greatness."

Ferrigo grunted angrily and slammed the jetpack hard enough to dislodge it from his back. He immediately began to sprint toward the nearest building as he watched the odd-shaped freighter take off into the deep red skies to the east, away from the setting primary. He turned to look at his jetpack, which popped, fizzled and began to smoke. After a few seconds, Prosstang started to walk toward The Serpent's Pride, then sprinted all-out. He thought of Ghetta Dehet and the violence he wished to visit upon her.

The three Death Watch troopers dressed in dark blue suits with blue-grey armor plates and black and red-trimmed helmets broke their attentions from the D5 Mantis. They set themselves in an arc of positions to receive Ferrigo. All of them raised hands onto their other gauntlets and began to send yellow blaster bolts slamming into Prosstang's armor.

Prosstang felt searing hot pains throughout his body. "Kriffers!!" he yelled and squeezed his fists and clapped his knuckles together as he continued to charge toward the three.

The three Death Watch troopers staggered around their positions a split second before Ferrigo ignited his dark-saber. Its thrumming chatter was punctuated by shrieking whistles of the spinning and flourishing purple glow wrapped around a pitch black blade. Each of the soldiers attempted to press their gauntlet blaster activator buttons again, but their arms and legs fell slack as their helmeted heads fell to the deck and rolled until their visor barbs stopped the motion. Ferrigo's arms finished in a spreading motion outward from his chest, which was thrust forward over his left knee. His dark-saber hummed, chattered and whistled very softly.

Slowly, Ferrigo stood up. Kriffers.

After glancing around the open air spaceport for several counts, he knelt and looked over the three beheaded Death Watch soldiers for any identification or evidence. He pocketed the useful information, then pressed a series of buttons on the panel to activate the ramp of the D5. Ferrigo took a deep breath and then opened the inset entry hatch door. Slowly, he turned back to look at the Death Watch bodies near the ramp. Deevee-Eight, Wait-For and Chesker all greeted Ferrigo happily.

Ferrigo looked at his droids, and changed out of his new set of armor and into his unaltered spare Schingo Velrrus set. "Wait-For. Chesker. I need you two to stay here and keep the ship under lockdown. All security systems on top alert. We have Death Watch in the sector."

"Death Watch? We can take on Death Watch, isn't that right, Wait-For?" Chesker bobbed and extended his fisted claws a few times in mock combat. Wait-For beeped, brapped and twittered in laughter.

"Charming, as always, Chesker. I will need you to do an analysis of the new beskar'gam set," Ferrigo pointed his gloved finger at the DUM-droid. "The whole thing. Fine grain. All diagnostics."

"Yes, sir, Master Velrrus." Chesker offered a mock salute.

"And, what of me, Master Velrrus?" Deevee-Eight fidgeted. "Am I to stay here and supervise these two rogues?"

"No, you'll be coming with me."

Fifteen minutes later, and after one visit from a Swokes Swokes security guardian named Grurahk, he had the bodies of the Mandalorians inside of the cargo deck cold storage, stripped out of their armor. And their heads were displayed in grisly fashion alongside the head of Zarek Diossan. The guardian knew who Schingo Velrrus was, and was excited to finally meet him in person. And provide assistance in handling some of his dead targets. Ferrigo thanked Grurahk for his help.

Before he departed The Serpent's Pride, Ferrigo turned to the case of preserved body parts. "Zarek, sorry. You deserve better company than these three. Especially since one of them is a Dehet."

"Sir, I've been meaning to ask you," Deevee-Eight stood behind Ferrigo's left shoulder. "Why do you keep these heads and other parts of your...work?"

"Some clients want proof. Sometimes proof can shake hard merchandise until it releases soft merchandise that clients are looking for."

"I don't get your meaning, Master Velrrus."

"Good. Let's go."

With Deevee-Eight in front of him, Ferrigo and his protocol droid rode Klsvrrrngg back to the Dokes Estate.

Deusa Dokes: The Sorrow, Humor and Friendship
Ferrigo and his droid arrived back at the small chateau to find that it had been cleared out of any who died earlier. He looked around for clues until he sensed that they was being stealthfully watched. Klsvrrrngg wandered off after he snorted toward Ferrigo and the Mandalorian touched his chestplates and waved in response.

"Come out now." Ferrigo said coldly, as his Taddie blasters swept silently in alternating arcs. He moved carefully around the grounds of the small chateau.

"I believe there is someone-" Deevee-Eight's caution was abruptly cut short by a Swoken exclamation.

"Schingo!" Deusa Dokes emerged from the darkness of the lower level interior with his hands raised, his dark eyes burned with a small red glow at their centers. His wide, toothy grin looked utterly ridiculous. And charming. "I sent rest with your wife to Palace. Your children. I sorry for what happened."

"Deusa," Ferrigo lowered his helmet slightly to regard the ground. "It's okay. Someone set this up. They were truly beasts. But skilled in what they do."

Deevee-Eight lifted a hand. "Begging your pardon, Master Velrrus, what does he mean about being sorry about what happened today and your children, if I may ask?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Deeve." Ferrigo said, his brow and lips tightened behind his T-visor.

Deusa seemed to inhale, setting his hands around where his hips might be. "We always your allies, Schingo Velrrus. We wish you stay with us. We help Cheelie heal. Your customary style. Perhaps you ask Lunasa visit us."

"I will certainly mention that you would like to see her." Ferrigo paused and gestured. "We will stay with you for a few days. We need to lay our..." Prosstang inhaled, pushed up the bottom of his helmet visor and exposed his face as he burst into tears. He dropped his helmet and covered his face, falling to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Deevee-Eight shuffled helplessly in the background.

After several minutes, Deusa Dokes bent down and wrapped Ferrigo into his arms and embraced him briefly then released. "I know. I ask Caliph special consideration. Come. Let's go, Schingo and droid. We settle you and wife and droid in most opulent quarters."

"That's really not necessary, Deusa." Ferrigo said sheepishly, their entire conversation remained in Swoken. "I'm just a Mandalorian." He gathered himself, sniffling and breathing deeply after picking up his helmet.

"Your most beautiful wife not. Your droid look like ours. They deserve better than you, surely," Ferrigo, among few humans who could tell, knew that Deusa attempted to lighten the mood with some humor.

Ferrigo shook his head and smiled, crying a few more tears as he hugged the big Swokes Swokes, who returned the hug. Deevee-Eight made the effort to shuffle into the hug to make it a group hug.

"You are guests, most honored. You always look out for Swokes Swokes. We go now."

Sharing Healing Powers with Cheelie Vyn
The next afternoon, Ferrigo and Deevee-Eight found Cheelie sitting in a chair in the ornately decorated den of the Dokes Palace. Ferrigo smiled and carried her to their suite. It was opulent indeed. The tapestries of deep colored fabrics rested around the windows framed in intricately patterned designs of black iron.

"You said they were going to speak with the Caliph for a special consideration?" Cheelie gazed at Ferrigo.

"Cheelie, I need you to lay down. I am going to bring a few serpents in here to help with our healing."

The Mirialan woman he loved glanced at him quizzically. "Are you going to bring our children back to life?"

Ferrigo was slightly surprised. "I don't think so...but I don't know. For now, I am thinking that you and I both need healing."

"You know I'm skeptical. But, I'm heart. Broken. I thought spending a day unconscious in a bacta tank would clear my mind, but--" Cheelie's body pulsed for several minutes after she burst into a series of deep sobs.

Ferrigo gently put his arms around her and joined her in crying. Ferrigo changed into loose-fitting clothing, more similar to what Cheelie was now wearing. He cleared his thoughts and gazed into her silver-blue eyes, stroked her black hair and smiled softly. His hands moved to caress her light green cheeks, marked by tiny heart-shaped tattoos. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He began to sway and moan softly.

Cheelie laid down on the bed and gazed at Ferrigo as he moved.

Ferrigo opened his eyes and stared out the window that faced the sunset. He turned toward the doorway and exhaled his breath as he gently waved his hand. The door gracefully closed without a visible touch.

Cheelie's eyes widened and her purple lips parted in shock.

Ferrigo closed his eyes, gasped and sighed and moved in a series of circles away from the bed. Cheelie watched him as much as she could while she laid on her back. She noticed that there were several colorful serpents in the room, resting on various surfaces. They swayed and bobbed slowly as their tongues tasted the air.

The Mirialan watched the man she had thought of as her part-time husband move more rapidly around the room. With passion and grace, from head to toe his body flowed with the movement of a serpent. She gasped as she watched him and took hold of herself.

His hands moved around his body, and he pulled his shirt up and off as the light from the setting primary was suddenly blocked from entering the window above the bed.

A loud snort and a spray of fine mist from a large, dragon-like snout directly above her caused Cheelie to scream. "Echuta!!"

She nearly bounced herself from a supine position on the bed to her feet. She watched as Ferrigo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a deep wail as he wiggled and swayed before her. She screamed again as the purple schinga shikou slapped her backside from thighs to shoulders with its long, heavy and wet tongue, which pulled her loose-fitting clothing out-of-place.

Ferrigo reached over and held her arms as he continued to dance in serpentine motions. She couldn't restrain a gasp, hearing a faint music rising in the distance. The Mandalorian's hands were soon caressing her buxom figure, and she began to fade into the vision before her eyes. Her lover, pale tan, muscular, and moving so beautifully. She moved her hips and feet, before she felt the serpent's long tongue gently slap her flesh. Ferrigo, entranced, took her hips and moved behind her until he was being bathed by the tongue of the serpent that rested its head inside the upper floor window. The sound of a sinuous flute tune wafted through the room.

The pain that Ferrigo felt from the day was drawn out of him. He moved in a way that synchronized with Cheelie's own rhythmic gyrations. He gazed on her tattoos as she moved. Soon their movements caused an electricity to rise between the two of them. They both gasped and seethed as Ferrigo's hands once again possessed the yielding green-skinned softness of his Mirialan lover through her shirt. He held his left hand over her bacta-patched left shoulder area and sang softly into the back of her purple-streaked black hair.

Prosstang groaned loudly, and Klsvrrrngg slathered his covered chest and face as Cheelie shifted from side to side before him. Ferrigo shook his head, smiling as Cheelie took his hands in hers and moved him around the room to her inspiration. Ferrigo looked upon her beauty and held his right hand and her left hand over her covered shoulder. He saw her being whole, healed. He began to sing in Swoken to match the tune of the flute, his hips moving around slowly.

Soon Ferrigo hummed as he gyrated to counter Cheelie's exquisite possession of him with her dance. She let him go after another few minutes of enrapt dancing. As she stood, the schinga snorted and lapped its tongue over her covered shoulder. She gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes.

He leaned down and kissed her as his hands found her womanly curves and groped them. Ferrigo then pulled Cheelie toward him and guided her to face away from him as they danced to the quiet rhythm that beat in the distance. Somewhere in the ether, she knew that three of their children died only hours before, but the feeling of warmth, love, desire, compassion and healing that flowed through her, Ferrigo and the large, odd serpent made the loss bearable in the moment.

Cheelie groaned out loud as the large beast gently rolled its tongue down her back from her shoulders to her posterior.

Ferrigo danced, hypnotized. His hands moved to the pulse of the sounds of the flute music as it became very insistent, and increasingly chaotic.

Soon, Ferrigo turned Cheelie around to face him and they danced together with their hips swinging, fingers of their hands clasped together

"I love you, Cheelie Vyn."

"Is there a huge purple serpent in the window that was licking us while we...danced?" Cheelie looked at Ferrigo dubiously.

"That's Klsvrrrngg."

"Oh."

"How do you feel?" Ferrigo asked, as he looked at his glowing, beautiful green lover.

"Lost." Cheelie looked around. Klsvrrrngg had backed out of the window minutes before.

"I know. I saw them take our children away from us, Cheelie. And someone sabotaged my equipment so that I would't see it coming or be able to do anything about it until it was too late."

"Schingo. How could they do that to you?" Cheelie shifted slightly on the bed as Ferrigo slumped in the over-stuffed reclining chair a short distance away. "You always cleaned your gear and took care of it when all of us were together on Nar Shaddaa. You always talked about how important it was to clean and check your gear."

Ferrigo sighed. "I got sloppy, Cheelie. Three years working for my Dad's corporation."

"Prosstang Industries? Prosstang Select Arms?" Cheelie asked warily.

"Yes." Ferrigo continued. "Someone has to be on the inside. Someone I trust or someone who works with that person. To alter the systems, engineer failures and insert alternative control mechanisms."

"I don't want to go to Mandalore after all."

Ferrigo and Cheelie spent more time together over the next few days talking about the baby, the children, healing, and what they might do about seeing each other in the future. Cheelie seemed less enthusiastic about the idea of marrying Ferrigo. And Schingo was no longer a separate person to her.

The Gathering Sorrow of The Tract of Makem Te
Two mornings later, Ferrigo wore his Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam while Cheelie wore tight-fitting pants with knee high boots, a white blouse and purple multi-pocketed vest. Today, she also wore a holster with a blaster pistol strapped to her right leg.

Deusa Dokes entered from another chamber with the Caliph of the Dokes family.

Without hesitation, the Swokes Swokes dressed in ornamental clothing and dazzling gemstones approached Ferrigo and Cheelie. The Caliph spoke in Swoken. "If it would please you, Lord and Lady Velrrus, your three children shall be honored to rest with our ancestors in the Tract of Makem Te. In the very mausoleum Lord blessed several years ago."

Deevee-Eight translated for Cheelie.

Minutes later, Cheelie looked up at Ferrigo after they were in the speeder heading to The Tract. "Is this the right thing to do for our children, Schingo?"

Ferrigo gasped and sobbed, his face pinched with deepening sorrow. "The Dokes are honoring our children. They are to be cremated and placed in beautiful urns in the Dokes Mausoleum, unless we would want otherwise. To be buried among the Swokes Swokes is an extremely rare privilege for non-natives."

"It's so soon. I don't know," Cheelie reached over to touch his wet face. "I love you, Ferrigo."

"I love you, Cheelie." Ferrigo fought back tears. "They're all gone, baby. All of our children. I tried to save you and them. I couldn't." Ferrigo sobbed quietly.

"You did all you could. Someone is stacking the deck against you." Cheelie turned away. "We have another baby on the way," she suddenly burst uncontrollably into tears.

Ferrigo put his hand on her head and stroked her hair. "I promise. I am going to find those responsible for destroying what we had."

"And do what?" Cheelie sobbed. "I don't want any part of being a target in Ferrigo Prosstang's life. I wanted my dangerous protector. The most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy. I know you're both. I just wanted my Schingo back."

The speeder came to a stop. Cheelie and Ferrigo were escorted along with Deevee-Eight from the vehicle to see three separate and opulently decorated repulsorsleds, each with a colorful tapestry wrapped around the small bundles that were their children. Sherno, Cellia and Tro'ana. Cheelie surprised herself and screamed and held her hands to her mouth, and burst into powerful sobbing tears again. Ferrigo cried quietly and wrapped his arm around her, being careful of her left shoulder.

Degga, Deusa, Sejiki, Telron and the young female Oakie Dokes and the Swokes Swokes Congress of Caliphs gathered on a large platform to the right of the gateway into The Tract. They were to led a convocational blessing. Degga and Deusa waved for Ferrigo and Cheelie to come up onto the platform. They carefully took the steps to stand on the platform above the crowd.

Ferrigo was certainly surprised, and Cheelie stopped crying long enough to whisper, "There must be twenty thousand here."

"My lady," Deevee-Eight gently remarked. "There are three hundred forty-seven thousand, nine hundred twenty-two Swokes Swokes here today. And, twenty thousand humans and near-humans. Give or take a few."

Cheelie sniffed and shrugged with a glance at Ferrigo. "I was close. Sort of."

The Dokes family Caliph spoke, and Deevee-Eight translated. "People of Makem Te. Today we gather to celebrate the short lives of three beings who would have changed the face of our world. They are the children of the Master of Serpents, our adopted son, Redar Velrrus. While others revile us and our planet or seek only to plunder our resources, this man and his wife have made Makem Te a home. For Sherno, Cellia and Tro'ana Velrrus. Makem Te was the only home they knew. The lived among us, among our people. Learned with our children. And they too, demonstrated the gifts of their father. The serpents were once again tamed, thanks to Redar Velrrus. The serpents have enjoyed the company of the Velrrus children naturally, and their friends among the Dokes children have also found it easier to connect with our heritage as the stewards of schinga."

Ferrigo swallowed hard. He loved all of his children. But he didn't know them as well as he now wished he had.

"But on our very own Estate, an attack on these innocents, their mother, and their father was carried out days ago." The Caliph shook one of his hands over the repulsorsleds. "These children were slaughtered. May the gods have mercy on their blessed little souls." The Caliph shook his fists and put them to his eyes as countless thousands of Swokes Swokes yelled, shrieked, cried or cheered.

Several Swokes Swokes in the crowd could even be seen with long blades cutting each other's hands or arms off.

"Holy fierfek, Schingo!" Cheelie snapped in horror.

"They regenerate limbs, Cheelie." Ferrigo said soothingly.

"Yeah? Good to know." Cheelie looked around in amazement. "Still. Holy fierfek."

Each of the other Dokes on the platform spoke about the children, Schingo and Cheelie. Deusa Dokes gestured Cheelie to speak.

"I can't, Schingo." The din of the large gathering almost made regular speech difficult to hear without a voice projection unit.

"Just speak from your heart, Cheelie." Ferrigo gently nudged her to the podium.

After a few seconds, Cheelie had taken a look around the hundreds of thousands of beings in the crowd before speaking into the voice-amplifying unit. "The People of Makem Te have always been kind to me. I know that you love my...husband. And you immediately accepted me, and then each of our children. As a part of your community, as part of your family. I've lived a hard life. I know my husband has too. Life here, until yesterday was easy, peaceful, and ideal. Today, I don't know where we can be safe from the sort of people who would kill children with pleasure. I know it is not the people of Makem Te who have shaken my faith in others. Or put fear in my heart - today.

"I will continue to hold you all in my heart and my thoughts. If I am here, or elsewhere, the Swokes Swokes people, and especially the Dokes family will be part of my family. That will never be taken from us,"  Cheelie held her right hand out toward the shrouds holding their children and fought back another strong wave of tears. "I love you, Sherno, my baby boy. I love you, Cellia. My miniature me. I love you, Tro'ana. You were your Daddy's girl."

Thunderous applause extended for several minutes until Degga Dokes motioned for Ferrigo to speak. It took some time for Ferrigo to stop crying at what Cheelie had said. And how she had said it. He was deeply touched.

Ferrigo stepped up to the podium after he cleared his throat. "My fellow Swokes Swokes. As my wife said, you are like family to me."

Ferrigo glanced across the sea of Swokes Swokes and the occasional cluster of other sentients enthralled by the event. "I am thankful for what I have been given. And I am pleased to give to those who demonstrate heartfelt need." Ferrigo paused. "But I am not necessarily thankful for what has been taken."

The crowd roared.

The Mandalorian turned to his Mirialan former slave girl. "I regret not having spent more time with our babies, Cheelie. I regret not having spent more time with you. But this is not our fault. We are loving parents. This is not the fault of the Swokes Swokes people. You all are loving people."

"Remember these names. The names of the ringleaders. Montross. Ghetta Dehet. Both are Mandalorians. Like me. Unlike me, they have no honor. For killing anyone's children, they deserve to die."

"I will be posting images of the ringleaders of the cold-blooded murder of my children. I am offering one million republic credits per head as a bounty on each of them."

The crowd shook the ground with the increased volume of their applause. From a glance in his peripheral vision, he could see Cheelie uncomfortably shift away from him.

"To the Dokes family, and all Swokes Swokes people. You have all of my thanks. You made it easy for my family to be raised here."

The applause continued as Ferrigo, Cheelie, the Dokes and other Swokes Swokes cleared the platform, until they commenced the procession to the crematorium. From that point forward, the entire crowd went silent. The procession was; however, bathed in ribbons, and many objects of value were tossed into the containment ridges around the edges of each repulsorsled. Ferrigo and Cheelie avoided stepping on the offered objects, as Swokes Swokes garbed as guardians of The Tract scooped up the items that landed along the pathway to the Dokes Basilica and Mausoleum.

Ferrigo looked at Cheelie periodically. They were both overwhelmed by the outpouring of sorrow and affection for their children - and them. After fifteen minutes, Ferrigo and Cheelie reached for each other's hands and walked for the next two hours in the heat of the long day. Swokes Swokes attendants brought liquid refreshment, primarily for Cheelie, as Ferrigo's flight suit and helmet had battery-powered environmental comfort controls that minimized the effect of heat. If the trip to the Dokes Mausoleum took longer than a week, Ferrigo might have then had to consider asking for a larger refreshment share. A pair of Swokes Swokes covered the Velrrus pair with a dual pole-mounted canopy to minimize direct exposure to the scorching rays of Makem, the primary star in the system of the same name.

The procession stopped as it reached a large, tiered marble building with a series of tall chimneys along its flat roof. It was the size of the Prosstang Palace, Ferrigo thought. He brought Cheelie closer to him as she bowed her head and covered her face with her left hand and sobbed. He bit his lip and felt the tears flowing again as they entered the crematorium alone with the Caliphs and Deevee-Eight.

After another blessing over the children, Ferrigo stood behind Cheelie and wrapped his arms around her. The children's bodies, swaddled in the fine tapestries were then placed into individual crematory ovens by Swokes Swokes covered completely in hardened animal hide outfits. Cheelie screamed, cried, and reached out for her children as the puffs of smoke and flame erupted from the entrances to each oven and seeped out of cracks in the chimneys. Ferrigo lost control and squeezed her tightly, and cried into his helmet until he deactivated the seal and removed it. He moaned and wailed after he attached his helmet to his utility belt. Cheelie turned to him and embraced him tightly as they cried.

"Our babies!!" Cheelie shrieked.

"Our babies." Ferrigo sobbed quietly as the fires roared for several minutes.

Several representatives of the Congress of Caliphs, including the Caliph Dokes, ascended the stairs to the ovens sharing in the carrying of three modest-sized but heavy-looking marble urns. The ornamentation was stunningly beautiful. Ferrigo and Cheelie were gestured by several of the Caliphs to approach the urns. Cheelie gazed into Ferrigo's eyes and squeezed his gloved hands before she departed for the steps leading up to the crematories. Ferrigo followed somberly. After several minutes of incantations by the Caliphs as they looked on, Cheelie and Ferrigo watched as glowing, smoldering sleds made of ferrosteel emerged from each of the crematories. Small, flattened mounds of ash steamed and smoked near the center of each sled. Ferrigo bit his lips together tightly and squeezed Cheelie's right hand with his left. She squeezed back. Two of the Caliphs approached them with raiments and mitres in hand.

Ferrigo understood most of what they were being told, but let Deevee-Eight translate. "Master Velrrus. The Swokes Swokes Caliphs Yaargor and Wuckem have asked Redar Velrrus and Cheelie Velrrus to remove their clothing. You." Deevee-Eight pointed to Ferrigo and Cheelie.

The pair sniffed and wiped away their tears.

Cheelie turned toward Ferrigo and accepted garments meant for her. "Well, another day in the life of Schingo Velrrus without clothes among a group of strangers." Cheelie smiled as Ferrigo shook his head with a slight grin.

"I'm glad that you've found humor. It's good to see your smile, babe." Ferrigo sighed and took his garments.

Deevee-Eight spoke up again. "These raiments and mitres are meant for you both to wear. You are to petition the spirits of the ancestors to allow the children to remain in The Tract. In peace."

Ferrigo looked around. "Where do we change?"

Deevee-Eight spoke briefly in Swoken, his hands and arms animated, with the Caliphs as they clarified the instruction. The CZ-model protocol droid returned. "You are to change here, Master and Lady. There are no places more private I'm afraid."

Cheelie glanced at Ferrigo. Ferrigo immediately began to remove his beskar'gam plates. Cheelie helped him with his jetpack, and he smiled. She was already wearing her raiment, and placed her mitre on her head after helping Ferrigo with the larger armor pieces.

"Deevee-Eight. I need you to ensure my beskar'gam and gear is secured," Ferrigo looked directly at the optical receptors of his protocol droid.

"Understood, Master Velrrus. As you wish."

The Serpents Journey - Cheelie and The Moon Dancer
Another four hours walk, as the crowd spread thin and regrouped along resting points where hydration was also provided, Cheelie turned to Ferrigo.

"This is a big place."

"Every Swokes Swokes is afforded a burial plot," Ferrigo sighed, and handed Cheelie another flask of cooled water. He looked back to see DV8 gently guide a repulsorsled with the Schingo Velrrus armor and weaponry in a locked cargo cube. He returned his gaze forward to the repulsorsleds that carried the individual ornamental urns containing the cremated remains of Sherno, Cellia and Tro'ana. Ferrigo was hit with a sudden revelation. It brought tears to his eyes again, tempered by a smile. ''Klsvrrrngg. We need you. ''

Cheelie looked at Ferrigo as they strolled along the dusty path, countless colorful ribbons, some newer, others worn and faded flapped in a slight, warm breeze. "You look amazing, Ferrigo."

Ferrigo slightly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Cheelie," he caught himself and brightened. "I believe you are the one who looks amazing."

The gathering throng of spectators backed away from the path with a commotion. The sounds of hisses and shifting gravel increased in their wake.

Deevee-Eight warned. "Serpents! Many serpents, Master Velrrus. Fast approaching! Oh goodness!"

The crowd, though dispersed from the path to the Dokes Basilica, were still hundreds deep and very loud with their chants, cheers, and wails. Some in the distance, visible at their lower elevations from the path carried signs in Swoken indicating anti-immigrant and anti-vistor slogans. The path stones rumbled beneath their feet, and Ferrigo and Cheelie turned in unison to see several schinga shikou of a variety of colors, including one of dark purple with golden yellow eyes. It and the others wore saddles. The other large serpents hissed and growled as their Swokes Swokes riders, clad in leather gear, each held a long electrified staff.

Klsvrrrngg had a much smaller rider, and elderly human female. Her smile was infectious.

Ferrigo beamed through a few tears as he gazed at Grandmother Lunasa in her robes, seated on the schinga he knew so well. He watched as Lunasa stroked the serpent to the fore of its saddle. The beast allowed its mouth to open slightly and release a satisfied growl. The schinga slid to their left side and Lunasa called to them.

"Fer'k. You are welcomed by Klsvrrrngg. We know you are both full of sorrow. Be mindful. These schinga are prepared to join in this ceremony if you will it to be." Lunasa paused, and looked upon Cheelie. "Are you ready, Mirialan?"

"Who is this, Ferrigo?" Cheelie asked.

Ferrigo turned to Cheelie, and saw her beauty shine and her power growing.

"I am Lunasa Ordo," the elderly woman said with authority. "Your husband's grandmother. I am here to help. And to welcome my great-grandchildren home into the Afterlife."

Cheelie seemed puzzled. "How can you help?"

"I have learned the arts of healing in the many years since my first visit to this very place that we head to now." Lunasa responded.

Cheelie seemed taken aback, but tried to smile though only tears and gentle sobs emerged.

Lunasa touched the left side of Cheelie's face and then rested her hand on the Mirialan's raiment covered left shoulder.

The group resumed its progress toward the Basilica, now visible in the distance. Ferrigo glanced to the right of the path and recognized damage to some of the memorials associated with the chase and combat he was personally involved in nearly eight years before. He kept a small smile to himself as Cheelie and his grandmother continued their discussion.

Lunasa looked over periodically to Ferrigo and Cheelie. "Cheelie Vyn-Velrrus. I was gifted by the spirits to aid them in healing. It all began here. With these serpents. Most especially the one I ride, known in spoken language as Klsvrrrngg."

"That serpent," Cheelie chirped. "He tried to come into my room. Our room. As your grandson danced alone, and then danced with me."

Lunasa caressed Klsvrrrngg as they moved forward. "Yes. He misses the dances he and I had, long ago. But Ferrigo is of my blood, and has been blessed as I was with the opportunity to share with these lovely, wonderful beasts."

"That's...interesting." Cheelie said nonplussed.

"I would think as a Mirialan, you might have a few powerful spiritual life experiences." Lunasa chuckled. "Your husband learned by direct experience of the divine spirit, Cheelie Vyn-Velrrus. He experienced my own spirit connected with this very serpent. This serpent is tied to us. A faithful friend and servant."

Cheelie looked over to Ferrigo, who still gazed around to recall the place, and to look at up the funerary urns containing the remains of their human-Mirialan children. "What did you experience, Ferrigo?"

Klsvrrrngg growled and seemed to grin.

Grandmother Lunasa smiled. "He brought this serpent back to life, just as I would have done."

"Naked, Grandmother?" Ferrigo grinned dubiously.

"Naked?" Cheelie repeated.

"Well, yes, actually," Lunasa Ordo giggled. "As you might experience for yourself. The healing power, and the visioning power of these serpents is great. Their connection to spirit will perhaps have a great impact on you, too. It is certainly nothing to boast about. It is a sacred gift."

"But, I know nothing about this spirit." Cheelie lamented. "I want to save my children. Bring them back to life. As Ferrigo did with this serpent."

Ferrigo took a deep breath.

Lunasa said calmly. "There will be time for you and I, Cheelie Vyn-Velrrus. Time for me to explain and demonstrate what you might experience. Prepare you for what is to come."

Ferrigo looked at Cheelie, and then his grandmother. "Grandmother, how do you know this?"

The elderly woman lowered her right hand from the reins and looked at both Ferrigo and Cheelie. "Your children may indeed come back to life. But not in a form you might expect."

"What do you mean?" Cheelie was insistent. "What forms might I not expect."

"Some things," Ferrigo's grandmother cautioned. "Are best not discussed until spirit resolves them."

Within two-and-a half hours, Cheelie and Lunasa were inside the Basilica Mausoleum. Lunasa, Ferrigo, Cheelie, and the Dokes Caliph had blessed the upper levels and ground floor of the Basilica. Lunasa instructed Cheelie about what might happen during the ceremony. Ferrigo joined his grandmother and Cheelie for a while, and listened for any suggestion of danger that might surface. Lunasa provided no such indication, and instead demonstrated her own dance moves and played some musical passages with her bes'bev.

A Lasting Legacy Entombed In The Dokes Basilica
An hour into the ceremony, Cheelie's naked femininity whirled around the altar of the Basilica to the sounds of Grandmother Lunasa's playing of the bes'bev. A group of Dokes family members each hammered thick hide-covered drums with sturdy small clubs.

Ferrigo stood naked, his manhood at full attention as the beautiful Mirialan swept around him in a trance. He felt his gifts shift as he looked at his amazingly nimble concubine, pregnant four months.

With a sudden burst of speed, Cheelie dashed before Ferrigo and slid on her knees while she held her ankles. Her open mouth grabbed his endowment. He raised his hands toward the rafters, sang and roared as the tattooed green woman with purple lips lovingly devoured him to his plumage. Three Swokes Swokes wearing raiments each brought a wide-brimmed jar to capture the Mandalorian's essence. The crowd gathered outside were prohibited from watching the ceremony, but the sounds of the proceedings were heard beyond one hundred meters from the exterior Basilica doors.

To the wildly arpeggiating tune Grandmother Lunasa played on her bes'bev, Cheelie used her kisses, lingual caresses, and both hands to direct her groaning, yelling and cooing man's violent eruptions into each of the jars, until each had essentially what was needed according to Grandmother Lunasa's earier instruction.

After the jars had been filled with water and thoroughly mixed by the Dokes Caliph and the pair of Swokes Swokes priests, the contents were blessed by the Dokes, Ferrigo, Cheelie and then poured into each child's urn. Beyond the restraints of what might have otherwise been normal, Ferrigo and Cheelie danced, chanted and sang to a softer and brighter tune as Lunasa Ordo looked on with a slight smile during inhales. The loving couple moved around the urns, and held each other when spirit called them to do so. Several Dokes brought the raiments back to Ferrigo and Cheelie and assisted them in dressing.

Three schinga shikou soon thereafter entered the Basilica, ridden by members of the Dokes family. Each of the Dokes dismounted and handed a wreath, several prayer ribbons and large gems to Ferrigo and Cheelie. Each Dokes received hugs from Cheelie and Ferrigo as the music continued to inspire peace and joy. Each schinga rider remounted their steed, which from left to right included a schinga of deep forest green with blue eyes, an olive colored schinga with silver-blue eyes, and a gold-and-green striped schinga with golden-yellow eyes. Ferrigo looked to Cheelie as they both swayed across from each other. They danced and sang together.

Ferrigo and Cheelie approached the smallest urn, that contained the remains of their youngest daughter, Tro'ana. Together, they first placed a golden-honey gemstone into the urn and tied colorful ribbons representing Tro'ana's favorite colors to each of the handles. Ferrigo picked up the heavy marble vessel and Cheelie kissed it as Ferrigo held it to his chest. They both danced slowly and carefully until they stood before the striped gold-and-green schinga. Ferrigo lifted the urn to his lips, kissed it and together with Cheelie set it down before the serpent on the far right of the Basilica.

The pair danced together again with song, as Lunasa played the flute. They kissed as they held hands on their way to the middle urn that contained their oldest daughter Cellia's remains. After they placed an aqua-blue gemstone in the urn and tied ribbons of Cellia's favorite colors onto its handles, Ferrigo used more of his strength to lift and hold the urn as Cheelie leaned forward and kissed it. They danced before the olive-green schinga and Ferrigo kissed the urn before setting it down with some help from his Mirialan lover.

They followed a similar course of action, specialized to their son, Sherno.

''-This last part will hard to take, you two. But know that if your hearts have been pure, a miracle can happen.-''

Ferrigo heard Grandmother Lunasa's instructions in his mind. He gazed at Cheelie Vyn, his lovely Mirialan concubine, mother of his children. Tears streaming down her tattooed cheeks as she held his hands tightly. He mustered a smile for her, and continued to dance, inspired by the beautiful flute music played by his grandmother.

The Goodbye
Several days later, Ferrigo prepared to leave Makem Te. There had been celebrations similar to wakes held in honor of the Velrrus children. Ferrigo and Cheelie had spoken with each other and Grandmother Lunasa, as well as the Dokes Caliph about the ceremony. For Cheelie, it was transformative. She said she sensed that their children were now living in the schinga that had swallowed their funerary urns. Those schinga indeed, unbidden, tended to remain near Cheelie and Ferrigo, even outside of their room.

For their love, Ferrigo and Cheelie came to see a solemn difference of opinion on their relationship. Her concern that their love would not be enough to protect Cheelie and their baby from harm could not be resolved to her happiness. They agreed to remain in contact through the Dokes family, where she said she felt safe. He felt to ask her to remain faithful to him, but realized that wasn't fair or equal, as Teena was still his lover, and had two children with Ferrigo in the last three years.

And there was the vision of the Manda. That he remembered only partially.

As with Raalee, he knew tears were coming, but that Cheelie would have to be truly free for there to be balance and joy in all their lives.

The Fateful Battle of Galidraan, Part I (44 BBY)
The word was that 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 Fett regarding an insurrection on Galidraan.

Touching Base Again: the Network Grows and Changes
Ferrigo had again communicated as Schingo Velrrus with his network of former slave girls regarding their business enterprises and family matters.

Bekkah Tettix, nee Velrrus-Trant'tu, happily showed Ferrigo her son and daughter by Durrk Trant'tu, who also made an appearance. The visit finished with Ferrigo's half-Zeltron son Nedrigo Velrrus, who was now over five years old talking to him about what crops he was supposed to plant at that time of year. With a father's beaming smile, Ferrigo told his son that he was very much loved.

Briefing at the Oyu'baat
The Governor of Galidraan was hiring Fett and the True Mandalorians to put down the insurgents, and the command team needed to hustle to the Oyu'baat Tapcaf in Keldable for the briefing. Ferrigo arrived by speeder bike in full beskar'gam. Ferrigo was escorted by Teena, the shapely, blue-skinned female Twi'lek waitress to one of the booths at the rear of the tapcaf enclosed in veshok panels and a sliding pocket door.

"Vore, Teena. Bal'banurcye Mhi...laam'kajil," Ferrigo smiled and slid open the door after three quick raps of his knuckles. The Twi'lek smiled, nodded and turned away with a slightly exaggerated thrust of her right hip. Ferrigo took one last look at her, and her moving lekku before entering the booth, sliding in to sit next to Ijaat and Adin Kabur and Myles. "Su cuy gar ner vode."

"Hitting up on Teena?" Adin Kabur snorted with a smile. "That tight fitting bodysuit leaves little to the imagination. I thought you were a thinking man, Pross." Adin Kabur was just over thirty years old, with brown hair and brown eyes. And a very affable personality.

"Well, Adin, 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. Probably two weeks," 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 a rocket launcher. Just in case."

The group was interrupted for a moment when Teena brought the group a round of netra'gal. When she closed the partitiion door, Myles chirped. "Doesn't Kels'mek's old lady still do mercenary gigs, too?"

"Not much, from what I hear," Ferrigo scratched his beard a few times then took a long draw on his pint glass.

"We could use her for deep infiltration," Adin Kabur grinned. "Send her a few days early. Come on, Jango, most of us have gone deep with that one," the younger Kabur wisecracked. "But not as deep as Pross."

Jango Fett rubbed his black hair back with one hand and pulled a long drink from his netra'gal with the other. "She wasn't available."

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 grin and 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 Silas, Adin Kabur and Myles. They carried on instead.

"Tyro probably should have told her to deactivate her weapons," Myles tried to begin blandly, before blurting in a gleeful yell. "AT THEIR OWN SHAB'LA WEDDING!!" Myles slammed his hand down on the table several times, as Adin Kabur and Silas rasped in glee, pounding their fists on the shaking veshok as tears ran down their faces. The booth rocked with uproarious laughter, that even Ferrigo could not resist sharing part of.

Ijaat Kabur grinned and chuckled deeply, shaking his head. "Di'kute." He was barely heard.

"What about Ghetta?" Myles offered another alternative. "She's mando'karla."

"Demagol'kyc dala," Ferrigo muttered. "She keeps company with Montross these days." Prosstang bit his tongue as a tear sought release. ''Don't make this about you. Or Schingo.''

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, looked at Ferrigo with a slight grin. "My shift is over."

"Perhaps the shifting has yet to begin, Teena," Ferrigo said slyly. "I'll see you upstairs in a few minutes. Be wearing that smile. Nothing more."

"As you wish, Snake." Teena smiled.

A Night to Share with Teena
When Ferrigo opened the door, Teena immediately set upon him to remove his armor and flight suit. Without a stitch of clothing on her, she kissed him with a passion that grew in proportion to his exposed skin. His passion was evident and proud, and with tender care and the caress of her lekku on his rippling abdominal muscles and gifts. She nourished her body on his sturdy endowment. Like many nights before, the Mandalorian folded up the beautiful, buxom blue Twi'lek woman under his broad, hairy chest and filled her with pride and delight in knowing him fully. In the morning, when they woke, Teena's lekku traced the ridges of his muscular chest.

"You are the most amazing man, Schingo. I am so proud to be mother to your children. Ajar'dor is so handsome, like you. And Kee'linara, such a beautiful baby."

"Like you, Teena," Ferrigo said with a smile. "You treat me like a king."

"Someday, you will be," Teena smiled and kissed Ferrigo's chest repeatedly.

"If you need anything, let me know. I won't have you, Ajar and Keelin living like paupers," Ferrigo paused and glanced at Teena again. "King? You tease me."

"Yes, I do." Her grin was infectious. "Be sure to kiss our babies goodbye before you go. They are with your distant cousin Anjii at the village."

Ferrigo and Teena shared many kisses as he dressed before leaving her and the Oyu'baat for a stop at Kaitom'prosstang and then on to Prosstang Town.

Q'osstigo and Signara: A Farewell to Their Son
Ferrigo returned later in the morning to the Prosstang Castle to fully prepare his gear. HIs swoop bike pulled up through the gates unchallenged, his purple racing jacket with a tracking transponder providing clear identification to the security team. He entered the Great Hall, feeling a cool breeze blowing through from the balcony levels above, their rayshields deactivated. He looked upon the enormous tapestry that in total told the story of Clan Prosstang to the present day. Ornate, unfinished and gently undulated by the breezes. Sometime in the future, he would hear that his father had chosen a team of expert weavers to transfer the history of the clan during the time of Aliit'alor Q'osstigo Prosstang into the tapestry.

"Son, you know we're concerned about you."

Ferrigo looked up to see his father standing a full level above, hands on the rail, overlooking the large fireplace and veshok-enclosed meeting table. "Again," Ferrigo tilted his head. "Teena says too much. And you know I can take care of myself."

Shaking his head, Q'osstigo looked down at his son, basking in window-filtered rays of the primary star, Mandalore. "We have two grandchildren. Twi'leks. You know that our clan history won't smile on those children, Ferrigo. But you should marry her and settle down."

"Your concern is touching, buir." Ferrigo said tersely. "She wanted children. They are a happy family. And I'm happy to provide, and spend time as I can."

"Irresponsible. A Prosstang commits and stands by his family," Q'osstigo gripped the railing. "Your family, Ferrigo. I don't approve of your footloose ways, ner ad. It's time for you to settle down and marry. I would have preferred you marry a human Mandalorian, as has always been the custom of our clan. But this Teena is the mother of your children."

"We are happy as we are. And try as you might, with Preniik Su'uleezs, Melaa Kuporr and Ghetta Dehet on my tail."

"Clearly you can't be reasoned with on these matters of appearance and authority."

"Appearance. Authority. You haven't lived as a mercenary most of your life. You don't understand," Ferrigo shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "I'm going to love the life I live, and live the life I choose. With or without your approval, Aliit'alor. I have several other children, by different women. Of various species. In fact, I might have children that I don't even know about. But their mothers know that I'd be there for them."

"At least you now own up to the fiction we created years ago. There is no Redar Velrrus. But, sending you off as a boy to Mereel was the worst mistake I've ever made."

"Kenna Luxara or Ghetta Dehet," Ferrigo glared back at his father, standing his ground. "Well, I still love Kenna Luxara." Ferrigo held his thumb and forefinger spread apart above his shoulder. "THAT...was your worst mistake. You broke my trust in her. She would have been my wife, and mother of my children. I would have settled down if I'd believed in her. She died with my child in her womb." Ferrigo felt his tears and remorse building. "I have tried settling down a few times since then. And those efforts didn't end well either." His memories of losing Aallys'sanada and Cheelie's children were fresh.

Ferrigo's mother emerged next to her husband. "Ferrigo, I am sorry for your losses. I want you to do what is right for you. But you must realize that your decisions now affect others. Our grandchildren."

Ferrigo sighed and ascended the steps, heading for the rear stairwell. "Teena doesn't want to marry. We love our children, but she has no interest in raising warriors. I won't marry a woman who can't or won't honor the traditional lifeways of our clan. And like I said, there are at least five other women who have borne my children. At their will."

"I don't want my grandchildren to love violence, son." Signara Prosstang said sanguinely. "We can help Teena. You shouldn't shut us out of their lives."

"It's not my call, it's hers. I've asked her to bring the kids around. But they're in Kaitom'prosstang right now. Go visit them. Ajar'dor and Kee'linara." Ferrigo almost snapped. "And Father, you should know now that I will also respect the species purity custom of Clan Prosstang. I will not marry a non-human. But I shall sire children at will, with the women I love and who love me. As was also the custom of our clan."

His mother shook her head. "That is non-sense. Bravada from foolish people with a mind for conquest."

"Do you agree, Father?" Ferrigo looked to the Chieftain of the Clan Prosstang. "Doesn't the Aliit'alor have the Right to Primacy? Who was it that was telling me about that? Oh. Ghetta Dehet."

"Great comfort to discuss such matters, such utter non-sense, and to lay these choices about the future of our clan at my feet." Q'osstigo allowed his brow to darken, before releasing the railing and turning to walk away. "And there you are, on your way to chase Mereel's dream. Fighting someone else's fight. And leaving a trail of fatherless children."

"It pays your bills as well as mine. Why are you complaining, Father?" Ferrigo mounted the stairs upward to get to his suite. "It's what I do, and do well." The younger Prosstang took a deep breath. "And every child I sire is loved. Their mothers know that I will support them. One thing's for sure, father. I'll never sire a Dehet bastard."

"The Right to Primacy, son, was intended to allow the Aliit'alor to choose and increase our people among the best of those who were able to produce offspring in a time when our people were devastated from war, famine and disease," Signara Prosstang raised her voice. "It was not intended to encourage an irresponsible lifestyle like that of a Coruscant playboy."

"Thanks for clarifying, Mother." Ferrigo grinned. "So, this was reserved for the Aliit'alor to increase the population with those women who were capable of producing heirs. Basically married women and widows. Amazing the things I learn so late in life."

Signara turned to look on Ferrigo with sorrow as her husband walked out onto the south balcony. "We will miss you. Be well and safe, dear son."

The Ride to Keldabe: The Last Commanders Briefing
Half an hour later, Ferrigo was riding with Tyro Kels'mek, Adin and Ijaat Kabur in a landspeeder to the Keldabe spaceport. Ijaat drove while Adin kept a carbine on his lap in the front passenger seat. Ferrigo and Tyro sat in the back seat.

Ferrigo casually asked Tyro about Relia and married life.

Tyro grunted and muttered. "She's not feeling good. Why do you ask?"

"You guys are my friends. And I care enough to ask."

Tyro was silent. Adin Kabur turned to look back for a moment. "Hey, Pross. Didn't know you and Teena got kids together. Paid you a bet last night you should never let me make."

"She and I have been friends since we were practically kids," Ferrigo smiled. "And a few more drinks among friends? Nothing wrong with that."

"Why don'tcha marry her, Pross?" Tyro grumbled with a darkened facial expression as they crossed out of the Prosstang region into one of the Kelita tributary valleys, shrouded with low-hanging clouds. "Got someone else on your mind?"

Ferrigo carefully took a slow, deep breath. "I'm not ready to settle down. Aside from this job, most of my time is spent setting up bounties and other business opportunities."

"Not someone Jango can count on in a pinch?" Adin said above the din of the speeder engine and rushing air and fog.

Reaching backward with his right hand, Ijaat smacked the back of his son's head for the comment. "Pross is solid and reliable, Adin. Watch your mouth."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Ferrigo said firmly as he handled and inspected his helmet, face wetted with the atmospheric mist. His gaze shifted to Tyro. "Why isn't Relia joining us on this job, Tyro?"

The speeder began a steep decline toward the rough, wide road along the west bank of the Kelita River.

"She has other work to do, kid." Tyro looked around. "I don't think that she's looking to get her shebs shot at on Galidraan."

Ijaat Kabur pulled the speeder into Bay 32, one of the large hangars in the spaceport district of Keldabe. "Well, Keldabla'verde. Time to report in." The three warriors climbed out of the speeder and pulled their bags out of the vehicle by their straps.

From the center of the hangar under the opening to the sky above, bathed in the grey light of an overcast day, Jango Fett, Myles and Silas walked toward Ferrigo, Ijaat, Adin and Tyro. "Jatne vaar'tur ner vode. Jate din'kartay kyr'yc ca," without a smile Jango laid out a large flimsiplast map from a long tube and placed several data cards on top of it.

He pointed to each company leader and rattled off code names for their respective groups. "Ijaat, Iisa. Silas, Mirshe. Myles, Hokaanir. Adin, Hukaat. Tyro, Marev. Pross, Senaar." Jango Fett finished issuing code names with his own. "Ni gai Ruus."

"Tuur solus." Jango started with the first day's assignments by code name, objectives and companies involved. "Gai Shev'la Nynir. Gayi'kaab tolase. Senaar, Mirshe. Shonar ner vode." Ferrigo and Silas were to secure the communications towers reported to have fallen to the insurgents. Fett moved his hand around a number of marked locations with comm towers. 

"Gai Keldabe. Keldab yustarud bal ke'gyce. Fett bal Kab'ika. Ni slanar vaii linibar." Adin and Jango would secure a perimeter and protect the Burg Kiesl, where the Governor of Galidraan was hunkered down.

Jango looked around at the other commanders and put his finger down on a large darkened area of the map, occupied by significant urban development. "Gai Ut'reeyah. Ibice chortav cinarin, Ijaat, Tyro bal Myles." The three would have the unenviable task of using their troops to draw out the insurgents in the areas around the Burg Kiesl and the Royal University.

The Mand'alor then looked at Ferrigo and Adin. "Pross, Kab'ika. Mhi linibar hibire. Prst'adika. Lor'ika Neviik. Kisol ad'ike. Ni copaanir verburyc hibire." Counter-insurgents posing as students would be required, and cousin Jannigo and a young female trooper were drafted to play the parts. Ferrigo would have to brief them.

"Ni rejorhaa'ir Jan'k. Bal Lor'ika...Tion'ad?" Ferrigo said with a slight shake of his head.

Adin Kabur shook his head. "Tion'ad?"

"Mar'eyir dala, rejorhaa'ir dala." Fett said calmly.

"Elek." Ferrigo responded as the others chuckled quietly.

"Tuur t'ad. Meh mhi ne'taylir, gar te'habir be gayi'kaab tolase, Pross bal Silas. Kab'ika, keldab yustarud. Chortav cinarin, Ijaat bal Myles. Nynir tsikador taape, Tyro," Jango pointed to Tyro's case of rocket launchers, then turned to Silas. "Meh mhi taylir gayi'kaabe, gar slanar sur'haai, susulur, hiibir bal hodar, Silas. Gar verde slanar ti Pross. Pross bal ni slanar vaii linibar." By day two, the communications systems should be regained and locked down. Street clearing would continue for the others, but Tyro would prepare heavy weapons systems for the assault of key locations. Silas would shift into intelligence mode, his troops shifting to Ferrigo's unit. Prosstang and Fett would respond tactically with overwhelming force to hotspots as needed by other companies or platoons.

The Mand'alor, and leader of the True Mandalorians, looked around and stood back from the stack of crates. "Partaylir. Haast ne'verde. Mav bal morut'yc ver'mircit. Tsikala?"

Each commander grunted, " 'Lek." They were as ready as they would ever be. No wet civilians. Free and secure any hostages.

All Boots On Deck: Commander Prosstang & Lor'ika Neviik
The commanders went to their respective ships, some in other nearby bays, to get geared up. The commanders then went over the orders for their companies by platoons, squads and fire teams. After checking the datacard provided by Jango at the briefing, Ferrigo finally located Lor'ika Neviik as being aboard the third of three ships in Bay 37. All three ships were under his command. Senaar Company.

On a secure comm channel to Ferrigo's helmet, Adin Kabur mentioned that Jannigo Prosstang was under his command. "Don't spoil the kid's good manners," the older Prosstang cousin quipped. "His dad thinks he's going to the academy."

"Cute, Pross," Adin responded. "Is there anything I need to tell him about his mission?"

"He knows what he needs to do. I saw him on the way to his shuttle. Just remind him that he needs to pay the overdue charge on a few books I checked out nine years ago."

"Whatever, you di'kut." Adin Kabur groaned.

"Jate'kara, ner vod." Ferrigo closed the channel.

The flagship of Senaar Company was undergoing final inspections from the ground crew. Ferrigo walked more than fifty paces to enter the cargo hold of the second ship, containing 2nd Platoon-Senaar Company. He laid out the mission objectives for the two squads and the specific targets for the specialized fire teams. Ferrigo stood tall, the palms of his gloves rested atop his utility belt pouches. "Tsikala?" he snapped in a low growl through his vocal emitter.

"Elek, Al'verde!" the entire group shouted in unison.

Ferrigo quickly exited the second shuttle and looked about Bay 37. All of the cargo containers seemed to have been loaded. He headed to the third ship and checked his HUD and data systems along the way. All three ships seemed to be in ready condition according to the data displays in his helmet viewscreen.

As he approached the third ship, he heard the sounds of metal-on-metal in a skirmish.

"Al'verde kajil!" a trooper shouted as Ferrigo entered the third ship. He watched as a rather shapely, diminutive woman wearing beskar'gam cut in the Nite Owl style tossed a moderate-sized trooper over her shoulder and onto the deck of the ship with a loud clash of metal.

"Get up!" the woman yelled through her filtered helmet.

"Enough," Ferrigo growled. "No fighting until we get to Galidraan. And be careful, dala. Ships and soldiers are at risk when you slam someone onto their jetpack."

"Who are you?" the small woman simmered. "Ready for your turn?" Her fingers flipped inward toward herself.

"K'uur, dala," Ferrigo said firmly. From her armor markings on top of grey armor highlighted in pale blue and purple she was apparently a member of Clan Prosstang. He smiled under the cover of his helmet. "I expect better behavior from my own clan."

"You're not the Mand'alor, you're not the Aliit'alor, you don't matter." The young, impertinent woman snapped.

Ferrigo grimaced slightly and turned to the whole group. "Now, quiet down troopers. We have a mission ahead, and many objectives set for you to complete. We'll need full focus and professional execution." Ferrigo provided a holoprojection map and laid out the mission objectives for the two squads of this, the third ship. He included their special assignments. With one exception.

"I want to speak with Lor'ika Neviik in the officer's suite, now." Ferrigo walked toward the front of the ship, until he found and entered the small room with a desk. Ferrigo glanced over the ship's records for a minute before he exited the office and returned to the cargo hold. "Neviik. Report in front of me. Now!"

Casually, the slinky little Mandalorian wearing Nite Owl armor who had earlier thrown a fellow trooper and sassed Ferrigo in front of the 3rd Platoon-Senaar Company drew up in front of him. She held her left hand up and looked as if she was inspecting the tips of her gloved fingers. To the surprise of all, with a swift, fluid motion Ferrigo gripped and lifted the woman by her thin neck with his left hand and slammed her helmet hard into the bulkhead to his right. He squeezed his hand around her throat.

She whimpered, gasped and grabbed his red-painted left gauntlet with both of her gloved hands as he then dragged her into the fore passageway. Some of the troopers hooted and whistled. Others muttered in astonishment. She extended her vibroblades from her own red gauntlets and fruitlessly slashed at Ferrigo's arm. He turned momentarily to capture the images of the hecklers in his HUD before he finished dragging the insubordinate little woman into the officer's suite, and lifted her under her chin to place her in the seat. She leaned forward to plunge her blades into his leg, but he lifted the leg and caused the double blade of her left gauntlet to deflect away and to his left. The flow of his left leg continued, and his armored knee cup made solid contact with the lower center of her T-visor and drove the back of her helmet into the bulkhead.

"Usenye!! Gar shab'la di'kut!!" she screamed after her helmet rebounded from the wall.

"Ah, you've got a Concordian accent." Ferrigo grabbed the back of her helmet and roughly pulled it off. The helmet flew into the passageway, clattering on the deck, revealing a beautiful, furious waif with long, slightly curled black hair. Her face glowed deep red with her mouth and eye muscles tightened. Ferrigo slapped her face hard with his gloved left hand. "Concordia? Concord Dawn?"

"I'll kill you!!" she spat at him and swung her gauntlets at him wildly.

Prosstang efficiently blocked her attacks, and squeezed the back of her neck with his right glove as he again slapped her with his open left glove. Her black hair flew around. He grabbed her neck again with his left hand and lifted her into the bulkhead and held her there, her twitching feet more than half a meter above the deck.

"Calm down, dala." Ferrigo muttered through his vocal emitter. Even seething, with tears streaming down her reddened-face, she was beautiful. He wasn't sure what was coming over him. Nonetheless, he knew and felt that her insubordination was unacceptable. "You disrespect me again, or show insubordination and I will bury your pretty little sheb'ika myself."

"Kriff you," Neviik choked through tears as her feet dangled.

"What in Hod Ha'ran are you doing here, kid?" Ferrigo growled as the tiny woman's boot tip failed to make contact with his beskar cod piece. "You've got mando'karla, Neviik. You've also got an assigment and a commander. Me. Are you ready to work or are you going to end up in cold storage?"

"Work, you piece of osik!" she sputtered, and gagged. "That's what I'm here for."

Ferrigo lowered Lor'ika Neviik to the deck, and seethed. "We'll finish the couples dance routine you're working on, later. You have a job to do, now."

"You think you're special, don't you?" the tiny woman gasped and growled.

"I think you'll make a great university student." Ferrigo calmed his breathing.

"Complete with slap and choke marks?" she retorted through a foul, expressive glare.

"You'll have proper student attire. It's in the cabinet next to the desk." Ferrigo backed out of the suite. "Go ahead and change. You won't be wearing your armor, or carrying your weaponry."

"Haar'chak!" Neviik snapped. "I'm a warrior - not a student!"

Ferrigo made a motion for the girl to begin to undress. "Come on, we don't have all day. I have to see you in disguise. Move it."

"I'm not going to change in front of you," the small Mandalorian woman responded coldly. "This isn't a show."

"Now! Do it!" Ferrigo shouted with his finger pointed at her.

At first reluctantly, Lor'ika Neviik began to remove her gauntlets. Soon, Ferrigo moved in despite her protest. He removed her jetpack, and lifted her armored vest over her head. He pushed her against the bulkhead more gently than before as he removed her utility belt.

She slapped the right side of his helmet with a short move of her left hand, almost symbolically, and turned her head away as her stunningly large bosom was barely covered by the sleeve-less half-top she wore. She groaned sensually as he unbuckled her boots. She smacked the top left of his helmet with her right hand. Watch out, Pross.

"You want me, don't you?" Lor'ika Neviik sighed and grasped her endowment above him as he kneeled to remove her heavy combat boots.

Ferrigo carefully stood up and backed away from the tiny, beautiful and dangerous girl. "Yes, I do. I want you to get changed into the student clothing. And do your job."

A slight scowl re-emerged from her mouth and sparkling blue eyes.

"The Royal University of Galidraan is located near the Faubourg Bergkratz," Ferrigo took a deep breath and produced a series of faded-blue holo images from a pocket-sized projector as the young girl stripped out of the remainder of her clothing with suggestive, sensual movements. Again squeezing for display her bosom, and then turning to show him her shapely, naked posterior. She bent over to access the cabinet near the desk and showed him the natural gifts of accommodation she normally held in secret. Prosstang bit his lip in silence as she shifted her hips from one side to another. He couldn't take his eyes away. "You'll need to identify the cells leading the resistance."

"Really?" the girl stood up and turned to face him, the clothing gathered against her ample bosom. The dark, curling plumage below her navel was thick, but trimmed into a chevron shape, above her sex. Ferrigo buried his lower lip under his upper teeth and sensed his own gifts swelling with joyful arousal. "Why wouldn't you have that intel already?" Neviik continued, and seemed to look directly into his eyes through the dark visor.

Ferrigo took a deep breath and without shifting his helmet looked to the upper right of his HUD, away from the tiny, alluring beauty before him.

"Like what you see, Prosstang?" she snarked with a half-grin. "Can't have it." She pulled on the provided undergarments, and adjusted the fit to still display a generous amount of cleavage. A red sweater with neck coverage went over top, and she sat down to pull on a pair of thin, black semi-transparent stockings. She then tormented her commander by spreading her legs slightly and shaking her head. "Never for you." She took the dark grey skirt she had placed on the desk and slid both of her feet into it before standing to lift the skirt to her waist. She stepped into the high-heeled knee boots provided to match the outfit and performed a full turn in front of him. "You approve, al'verde?"

"You'll do well. If you keep your head, Neviik."

"I still have to put on beauty supplies," she lamented. "Why?"

"Not too much, just to fit in." Ferrigo handed her some flimsi images of young female students at the Royal University of Galidraan. "I have to continue my rounds. Good luck, kid." Ferrigo walked toward the aft of the 3rd Platoon-Senaar Company shuttle.

Neviik leered. "You too, cyar'ika."

Rendezvous With Jate'kara - Selecting Platoon and Squad Leaders
After the platoon ships exited the orbit of Mandalore, they docked with several adjacent bays of a heavy Mandalorian cruiser, the Jate'kara. The troopers were then assigned quarters during the transit to Galidraan according to their squad assignments. A fleet of smaller MandalMotors Meteor Q-class shuttles awaited each squad in the upper deck. During the next day, each squad checked its gear and weaponry and rested up.

Shortly after arrival on the Jate'kara, each commander assigned a leader to each platoon and its individual squads. Ferrigo gathered his squad leaders and platoon leaders after a rancorous process that included much debate about experience, skills, and parentage. He addressed them in Mando'a, as was the general custom of Mandalorians preparing for battle.

Ferrigo looked at his datapad. "Ver'alor Sol'yc Traatika...Vharrel Pross'kade. Vharrel, gar bal ni staabi'gaan. Meh ni ba'slanar, kaysh ke'gyce Senaar Ol'averde." Ferrigo turned his helmet to glance around at the gathered deputies of various ranks. "Tayli'bac?"

In soft chorus they confirmed. "Elek, Al'verde."

"Ruus'alor Atin Traat'aliit-Sol'yc Traatika...Yomaget Tre'vhek," Ferrigo looked up to get a better look at his cousin before he shook his head. "Yom'ika. Ner jari'eyc ulik. Urakto oya'la?"

"Gar sheb'urcye, ner Al'verde." The taller Mandalorian, a cousin of Ferrigo's who wore his long, dark hair in several bindings leaned back in his chair with a broad smile.

"Ni suvarir." Ferrigo then turned his helmet slightly toward the next deputy.

"Ruus'alor Beskar Traat'aliit-Sol'yc Traatika...Sorn Kebiin'akaan. Ruus'alor Cin Traat'aliit-Sol'yc Traatika...Bu'una Vhell"

Ferrigo paused and tapped his datapad. "Ver'alor T'adyc Traatika...Ti'iko Gintz. Ruus'alor Atin Traat'aliit-T'adyc Traatika...Yae'garr Hanrikke. Ruus'alor Beskar Traat'aliit-T'adyc Traatika...Zupp Ornel. Ruus'alor Cin Traat'aliit-T'adyc Traatika...Kort Rekkurt."

A deep breath and leaders for the last platoon and its squads were listed. "Ver'alor Ehnyc Traatika...Cerina Mazs'la. Ruus'alor Atin Traat'aliit-Ehnyc Traatika...Aran'ar Ordo. Ruus'alor Beskar Traat'aliit-Ehnyc Traatika...Hako Mekk." Ferrigo noted Mekk as the rare Trandoshan-Mandalorian extended and gripped his right claw into a fist. "Ni urmankalar draar urcir gar bal gal besbe, Mekk. Gar Aliit Prosstang, 'lek?"

"Elek, ni Aliit Prossssst-ang."

"Gar ad ge'hettir gar gaht'yaim, 'lek?"

The helmeted reptilian nodded. "Gar gev tracyn, 'lek. Ni ori'haat, ner ad Pud, kaysh akaanir par gar. As ni jii. Vore par gaanader ni."

"Kih'parjai." Ferrigo lifted his hand slightly in acknowledgement then continued. "Ruus'alor Cin Traat'aliit-Ehnyc Traatika...Alor'akada Neviik."

"A one person squad?" Neviik cast her open hands to either side.

Ferrigo nodded.

"No support?" she spoke sharply.

"Gar ganar ni, bal slanar mhi."

"Great."

"Dismissed," Ferrigo said aloud, before he turned to the diminutive young woman. "You'd better learn the language, orikih."

Lor'ika frowned and folded her arms as the rest of the Senaar Company lieutenants and sergeants departed for the mess hall. "Can I change into something more comfortable?"

"Tomorrow, you will wear that outfit. With bells on if I order you to wear them."

The young woman marched out coldly as Ferrigo smiled inside of his helmet.

Salin Corridor Run
On the evening of departure, Ferrigo checked over each of his squads. His shuttle was considered the company headquarters, though he himself indicated that he would be actively involved across the theater of operations for Senaar Company. Like the other commanders were doing in the spacious, ray-shielded docking bay, he gathered his company of seventy-seven troopers together for a last briefing, and responded to each of the handful of questions he received from each squad leader.

"So we're taking out a bunch of students?"

Ferrigo turned slightly as he paced in front of the company, his palms rested on his utility belt pouches. "Only the ones who fire at us. We have a defined set of objectives. Each platoon will be taking back around fifteen comm centers. If you meet resistance, do your best to calm it down with care," Prosstang pointed at the deck surface with his left hand extended to his side. "You'll have three shuttles per platoon, one per squad. Your coordinates are locked into the navcomp of each shuttle. Point-and-click piloting for the initial disembarking runs."

A lazy right hand raised around the center of the gathered troopers of Senaar Company. "Doesn't auto-pilot seem like a horrible idea to anyone else?"

"Di'kut Shebs'aaray, is it?" Ferrigo adjusted his volume to maximum on his vocal emitter.

"No-"

Chuckles and murmurs flared throughout the company.

"Well, Shebs, it works like this. You shut it with your rhetoric. And I don't flush your pulsing heart down the refresher commode." Ferrigo turned his full countenance toward the soldier. "Your opinion doesn't matter. For everyone else's benefit, the pilot will of course be able to change course as needed. But swift strikes against the enemy teams holding the communications network will be critical to the success of the whole operation."

"But that doesn't make any-"

"Well, I know the rest of you understand why you have been issued a jetpack, though Shebs'aaray here is clueless," Ferrigo turned and paced in front of the group. "You will deploy from the ramp and fly by jetpack to your start points. Auto-piloting of the shuttles will allow for quick overall deployment, especially since we will be flying out the back door."

"The name's Rhell, sir. Clan Prosstang. Cut me a break, won't you?"

Ferrigo continued to pace and glanced casually about the other troopers as his rangefinder camera recorded much of the briefing. "Other questions?"

Lor'ika Neviik had been attracting a lot of attention in her student outfit. She raised her hand as she leaned against one of the shuttles. "Are you taking us out for drinks after this is done? Or just me? This school uniform is insulting."

Many in the company laughed, and Neviik smiled impishly.

"Heavy weapons?" one of the larger males asked hopefully.

"The Cin Squad of each platoon should have explosives to help take down doors or if needed, several facilities on your lists," Ferrigo gazed across every trooper. "But this is not going to be a boom-boom mission. We're going in with the intent to capture and restore command for the Governor. With minimal casualties. Period."

He paced back toward Neviik, and gazed at her longingly from behind the privacy of his dark T-visor. "Do your jobs. And remember. Every piece of information you gather is intelligence. Send it directly to me as you get it. Let's get this work done in tidy fashion. Anything else?"

The group remained silent.

"Good," Ferrigo stopped and turned to the group. "We muster up at nineteen-hundred thirty hours and depart at nineteen forty-five. Plenty of time for sleep. And refreshment. It's going to be a few days in the field. Haili cetare. At ease, ner vode."

Ferrigo grasped his belt and walked to his Meteor Q-class shuttle craft. "Yes, Neviik?" he sighed as he felt her presence and heard small footsteps clicking on the deck to the side of his own.

"Are you going to take me out for a drink? We both know you want me. And I think you're actually pretty hot, Ferrigo Prosstang," the small beauty pulled her black hair over and away from him, perhaps to show him more of her face and neck. He looked down below his left shoulder and she flashed her deep blue eyes at him. "I bet you're a stallion in the bed chamber."

The tiny woman was gorgeous, shapely, defiant and peculiarly irresistable. And yet, he drew on his reserve of strength to deny her charms. "We have a job to do, kid. Keep your focus and we'll return safely. After that, who knows." Ferrigo returned his gaze forward as he walked to the cruiser sleeping cabins.

Lor'ika Neviik smiled. "You'd better dream about me. Keeping my tiny, naked body safe in your arms."

Ferrigo shook his head. ''Goodness, Arasuum. Who is this again?''

The Fleet Drops to Galidraan
Five hours later, the 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 gloved right hand held the rail between the flight crew cabin and the company seating area. He visually inspected his red gauntlets, again. ''Left. Dart launcher, electric shock prongs, forward outside vibroblade, systems buttons. Right. Flamethrower, blaster, rear-pointing outside vibroblade, more systems buttons.'' His armor and flight suit was identical to his Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam with the exception of the painted highlights, which were primarily dark purple with gold trim. Ferrigo also wore a purple cape made of thick material over his left side, but tucked inside from his jetpack.

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 company, activating the connection between his helmet's voice unit and the sound systems in the cargo holds of each Senaar Company unit. The seventeen of his troopers in his shuttle were securely strapped in, despite the jarring and shaking of chop.

"You know the score, just like we went over on the Jate'kara this morning. Check your weapons. Two man fire teams within each squad. Stay with your teammate, and squad the whole trip unless re-assigned. Civilians will be on the playing field. For us, that is the whole planet. The Royal University of Galidraan campus outside of the capital city of Kiesl is the projected hotspot at the end. We start with five satellite antenna locations and the beacons placed by the insurgents. We are taking those locations back after jamming their signals. Shoot only when shot at. Keep your buckets on, HUDs up, all times. Neutralize the radicals. We are looking at angry students. Go soaking wet only if you have to," Ferrigo regarded a trooper with his hand raised. "Yes, Yom'ika?"

Yomaget Tre'vhek, Ferrigo's cousin asked loudly, "Going wet?! Are you talking about university co-eds like the one in 3rd Platoon, Pross?!" Laughter spread throughout the cargo hold. The female soldier sitting next to Yomaget punched him in the arm below his shoulder plate. He mockingly rubbed his fresh, deserved jab.

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

"No worries for me, Pross! You ain't Relia Kels'mek!" Yomaget shouted to the apparent delight of the entire shuttle, and indeed the entire company.

"K'uur ner vode!! There will be time for fun when this insurgency is put down. Keep your boots and buckets on. Most of you will be doing a drop from the bird's shebs. Be safe out there," Ferrigo reached over with his left hand and pressed a large red button  on a panel trimmed with black and yellow tape. The ramp from the shuttle engaged, groaned and whirred into life, lowering with a blast of cool, damp air sweeping through the cargo hold. The ramp continued its downward thrust, angling toward the ground and the emergent, sweeping sight of steeply angled and intersecting roof panels below with snow collected in their troughs. Still moving, the ramp opened to show a snow-swept marketplace in view. The throaty rumble of the primary engines echoed off of nearby buildings as they passed, with a few whining hisses of the vertical thrusters activated from moment to moment to keep the shuttle somewhat level as it gently swayed. "Oya! Make Jaster Mereel proud!"

The seat harnesses released and each of the warriors, verde, paired up with their opposite from across the shuttle's cargo bay. A single pair jumped off the end of the ramp, and plunged briefly before their jetpacks activated. Two more pairs of armored shocktroopers debouched from the lumbering craft, just as snowdrifts scattered from crevices among roofs to the snow-covered ground below. The craft lurched and yawled to the right as it followed the long curve of what appeared to be the foundation of a fortress from a hundred meters distance. Above the wet, shimmering rooftop tiles of the town below, Ferrigo saw several supercommando pairs, including those from other platoons, flying to their assigned coordinates.

He hit the red button again, drawing the ramp back up into closed position. "We have a ways to go, ner vode. To the hinterlands."

Yomaget stretched and held firmly onto the duraplast hand loop and looked around. "Pross? Are we going to have ground transport at any point in our mission?"

"We will have to appropriate, Yom'ika." Ferrigo continued. "I know you're nervous, ner vod. We're gonna be fine."

"Air support?"

"This is it."

"Ok, Pross," Yomaget leaned back slightly.

A few minutes later, Ferrigo stood erect and called out the remaining troopers over the loud speaker after he hit the large red button. The cargo ramp lowered, allowing gusts of cold air to sweep through the cargo hold again. The flight suits beneath beskar'gam rippled in the wind. The snow cover below was spare, the soil dark and damp, and plentiful expanses of light golden grain husks. Harvests had been finished in this region within the last month.

"Ku'ul. Us'ja...jate'manda, ner vode...Slanar!"

Ferrigo glanced in the right side of his HUD after a few blinks of his right eye. A camera feed of the cockpit showed Alor'akada sitting comfortably behind the co-pilot. "Boesse. Kuporr..." Ferrigo blinked again to minimize his HUD. Anjii?

He watched as a female of his clan leapt from the ramp before she activated her jetpack.

"Yom'ika. Reess. Slanar!" Ferrigo pointed down ramp.

"Ret', Pross!" Tre'vhek yelled as he and his support jumped down and away from the lumbering shuttle.

The engine thrum vibrated the wind-whipped netting and fasteners as Ferrigo took a last look in his HUD after he brought up the cockpit video feed. He took another concentrated look at the status of the teams in his HUD, and switched over to his own pairing status. In Mando'a letters: Vharrel Pross'kade.

"Ver'alor Pross'kade! Senaar'alor slanar!" Ferrigo released his hold on the handle after tapping a button on his right gauntlet. He walked carefully over to the ramp, joined by Pross'kade. They looked at each other, curtly nodded and jumped off the ramp. Ferrigo shouted. "JETS ON!"

Rough Landing and Tough Early Go of Things
Ferrigo and Vharrel Pross'kade arrived with soft landings behind the cover of trees amid a hailstorm of blaster fire at the first objective of Atin Squad-1st Platoon. The trees were being shredded from the thick fusillade that bore down on the position they approached.

Pross'kade yelled to a female trooper that wore paint markings on her armor indicating alor'uus, or corporal rank. "Sit-rep?!"

"Switch to squad channel," Ferrigo said, as he repositioned himself in a crouch.

"Commander. Lieutenant, I'm Corporal Ghuax," the young woman turned her helmet to look beyond the barrier of stacked timber through a copse of trees. Blaster bolts zipped past Pross'kade until he kneeled down. "Thank you, sir. We are pinned down have been since less than thirty counts from arrival. Not thinking these are students, Commander." Ferrigo adjusted his HUD to zoom and focus on the territory between the target location and their position. Three dead or incapacitated members of Atin Squad laid still along the approach to the dense cluster of trees, bushes and building screened behind them.

"They have thermal optic targeting," Ferrigo said calmly. "Anyone with thermal grenades in your squad, 'Kade?"

The lieutenant looked at his corporal. She seemed to consider the question, as blaster bolts continued to sporadically zip above and into the stack of logs. "Sirs. Private Ku'ul has two, and so does Private Us'ja."

Ferrigo brushed off some of the singed bark and pulp dust from the blaster damage to the timber. "Okay, Corporal, tap Ku'ul to get those thermals onto the front porch of that building. Yesterday." Ferrigo glanced around the posiiton.

"Commander," the corporal said uneasily. "Private Ku'ul is laying up over there. Private Us'ja is the one closer to our position."

A hiss, foom and crackling screech sounded briefly before a tremendous, ground-shaking explosion tore through the trees and bushes near the building with debris, gravel, clumps of soil and balls of flame. Ferrigo and the others ducked momentarily before peeking over or around the timber barrier that protected them.

Ferrigo's HUD chimed above his head. He looked up slightly to see a large man in Mandalorian armor with a short purple shoulder cape that flapped overhead with his descent toward the building. The Mandalorian shape pinged softly with a faint green outline. The tall Mandalorian fired his carbine repeatedly toward the building below as he hovered with a constant thrust from his jetpack. Ruus'alor Yomaget Tre'vhek.

Ferrigo and a few others from Atin Squad provided steady cover fire from their primary blaster weapons.

"They got bags, vode." Tre'vhek warned. "I'm getting through, but some are dug in. Keep up the cover fire, I'm switching to something hotter."

"I got 'em Yom," another squad member came over the line. Alor'uus Nedd Reess. "Clear line of sight."

"This is Pross. We need to save the heavy firepower for later, vod'ike. Blasters only." Ferrigo fired both of his Taddie blasters toward the building. "Reess get some smoke over there on their welcome mat so Yom'ika and I can stomp it out." Ferrigo clucked his tongue and winked his eyes until he had thermal targeting activated.

"Got it, Boss." From his angle, Reess fired a large projectile round through the gap between trees toward the front of the building. The trees and shrubs nearest the building were in smoldering flame, denuded of foliage. A pop was followed by a generous belch of white-grey smoke that engulfed most of the once-visible area near the building.

Ferrigo emerged from his crouch and jogged toward the building in a serpentine path, and shifted toward his right with both blasters held steadily before him, but a wide arc apart from each other as he moved. Energy bolts from blasters flew across the open field from at least three locations, two of them from Atin Squad.

After Ferrigo crouched into his run, Lieutenant Pross'kade and Corporal Ghuax both leaned over the top of the logs and laid down a fusillade of blaster fire in the direction of the building.

Ferrigo saw a figure outlined in orange that moved quickly away from him bearing north-by-northwest. He fired one blaster shot into the back of the target's knee. The target fell to the ground with a loud yell of pain that stretched into a whining moan. "One target down. Might be armed," Ferrigo remarked, and breathed deeply. From above, Yomaget emptied the rest of his blaster cartridge charges into the makeshift sandbag bunker, and the crossfire from the rest of Atin Squad tore up the remaining defenders as they were under fire from three directions without cover. Their sizzling bodies finally slumped over. "Exterior defense down, vode." Yomaget gasped over the squad channel before he slowly descended to land near the office door.

Ferrigo panted. "Use thermal visual mode. Keep your seals on, and fire a few irritant rounds into the building to flush out the rest. I've got hard merchandise for processing." Within ten seconds, Ferrigo dragged a captive to the ground before Lieutenant Pross'kade and Corporal Ghuax. "Take care of him." The prisoner still pulsed helplessly with tiny blue arcs of electricity for three counts after Ferrigo sprinted to join the fire team aiming at the doorway through the dense smoke.

Tre'vhek had taken cover with several Atin Squad troopers in position to fire on the door as it was blown into the building, bent, broken and spinning from a violent explosion. "Door down. Send in the irritants." Ferrigo nodded to Reess, who then propelled a canister of irritating agent into the open doorway. "Okay team, give it ten counts and cautious. Sol'yc Platoon, I'm heading to T'adyc and Ehnyc. Lieutenant Pross'kade, all under control."

"Yes, Al'verde."

"Good work here, Sol'yc," Ferrigo inhaled deeply. "Keep your shebs tight as they need to be. Regroup and tend to your casualties. See if your next objective can be approached at twilight. It's getting close. And Corporal Ghuax is right," Prosstang gestured his hand over the steaming corpses of the defenders. "These aren't college students."

Westward Flight
Ferrigo launched upward with his jetpack and cut his engine after he decelerated to land on the extended rear ramp of the Abiik Sa'viingalaar, or Air Purplehawk, the Meteor Q-class shuttle that pulled around fifty meters above and to the south of their position. He walked forward, and the co-pilot pressed the button on the bulkhead panel to close the ramp.

"Su'cuy gar, ner vod," Ferrigo sniffed and exhaled. "How are T'adyc and Ehnyc Platoons doing?"

The co-pilot escorted Ferrigo to the flight deck. "We're hearing that our units are facing stiff resistance in all situations, Commander."

"How's our intel holding up?" Ferrigo grimaced slightly behind his T-visor.

The co-pilot settled into his seat. "It's got holes. Big ones. These are the best armed and trained hooligans we've seen in a long time, Commander. And they seemed to be prepared for our specific approaches. Some heavy weapons fire has also been reported by Ehnyc Platoon."

"Are any of our units, or Mirshe Company units acquiring objectives or not?" Ferrigo gripped the rear of the pilot and co-pilot seats as the shuttle banked starboard around the rim of a thin cloud above an area of colorful trees and sparse settlements. The occasional sets of ground vehicle lights could be seen as they moved along roads connecting the settlements.

"Lieutenant Bhen Kels'aan has been lost. His platoon is entirely out of contact," the co-pilot lamented. "They got their first pair of objectives in under an hour. And then nothing since."

"Sir, there's a fire over at our eleven," the pilot spoke into his vocal receptor, amplifying his voice.

The co-pilot lifted his left hand and pointed. "I see it."

Ferrigo adjusted his HUD. He cycled through his view options, and targeting displays did not indicate any threats as they passed far to the right of the fire. "We need to stay on course to support our objectives. That could be a distraction. Or a beacon. Any signal from that fire?"

"No, but shouldn't we verify, Commander?" the co-pilot asked.

Ferrigo took a deep breath. He thought for a moment of the atrocity brought to him and his family on Makem Te, and shook his head. "We have to support our objectives first, Lieutenant O'adde. You can loop back and investigate later." He considered Alor'akada Neviik. "Head to Ehnyc Platoon, now. And get me Jango on the line."

A few minutes later, as the shuttle banked again to follow the line of clouds, the Mand'alor's voice snapped throughout the flight deck cabin. Ferrigo had been discussing more details with the flight team. "Jango here," the Mand'alor sounded clear and sharp. "What's the situation, Pross?"

"We have bad intel on the OpFor, alor," Ferrigo shook his head as he sat at the navigator station and looked at the datapad before him. "We're not dealing with green kids and old idiot militiamen."

"Tell me about it. We barely had time to check our gear on landing before we were under attack outside the citadel walls." Fett took a deep breath and clicked out.

Ferrigo spoke into the vocal receptor wand at the station. "Are Ruus and Hukaat secure?"

"Not comfy yet. You gonna send the package soon?"

"Soon as possible. On our way." Ferrigo responded. "And see if we can't start sending signals your way from the secured objectives after we send the package your way."

"Understood." Jango rasped.

With a loud, sudden pop and scream of shorn metal, the shuttle jolted hard and sent Ferrigo up and into the display consoles above the navigator station as the vehicle rolled over toward starboard. Flames reached and sparks sprayed throughout the port side consoles and bulkheads of the cabin, which caved inward momentarily before being sucked outward into the clouds. A large, gaping hole pulled loose objects from the flight cabin, including the captain's flight helmet. As the port side opened to the ground a thousand meters below, Ferrigo floated toward the hole, stretched his boots to brace on either side of it. ''Shebs! ''Prosstang grabbed for the captain's hands. The captain had removed his restraints to tend to the limp, blood covered lieutenant, whose head wounds appeared fatal as he lulled in the co-pilot seat.

"Osik! Let's go!" Ferrigo yelled. The captain grabbed Prosstang's gauntlets and the two dropped through the hole as the ship resumed its spiral. A wide spray of blood and flesh pulp covered Ferrigo's visor. He barked into his helmet to activate his jetpack. Instantly, he felt his body jerk upward with the powerful thrust of the jets. But the captain's grip loosened and his weight seemed to increase exponentially. "Fierfek!"

Ferrigo cycled through his HUD view options until he had acquired thermal optic mode. It became clear after a few seconds with Ferrigo's shouts at the captain that he was non-responsive. A tremendous ball of fire erupted in the distance ahead. "Fierfek." Prosstang muttered.

A moment later, the shockwave of the explosion pulsed through Ferrigo and loosened his grip on the captain. The pair began to spiral downward as Prosstang struggled to maintain a hold. "This is gonna hurt, Captain!" As the tree canopy below approached rapidly, Ferrigo turned his back to face the ground. He yelled for an increase in thrust of his jets, which responded instantly. In his mind he saw a soft cushion receiving them.

Ferrigo opened his eyes. Blocks of Mando'a text and schematics scrolled slowly upward along the left side of his HUD. "Threat scan," he groaned. The aches of his shoulders, chest and lower back were mild compared to his central and upper back. ''Clear screen. Not good. ''The primary star had already sunk below its horizon, and darkness had taken hold. Ferrigo gently rolled the captain's weight from his chest onto the right side.

"Okay, Captain. It's time." Ferrigo knelt above the pilot. Target light. A small flash light shone downward. The thermal read picked up lower than normal heat from the captain. Ferrigo switched to visual mode. The light showed him that blood and some solid matter covered his visor. "Fierfek."

Ferrigo took a deep breath and removed a small towel from one of his belt pouches and wiped his visor clean. After he exhaled and took another deep breath, he gazed down. The pilot's head was missing. Damn ship. ''Damn rocket. Death Watch?'' Still scanning his HUD for any activity around him, Ferrigo stripped identification from the pilot, and pocketed any valuables for return to loved ones. No time to bury him. Ferrigo stood back five paces and ignited his flamethrower and torched the remains of Alor'ad Riit Buniin.

Ten minutes later, Ver'alor Hu'uk O'adde was similarly stripped of personal effects and burned to obscure his identity. And to approximate a Mandalorian cremation under the spreading fog of war. The Abiik Sa'viingalaar was down for good, a smoldering wreck. After he moved around the smashed shuttle toward the cockpit, Ferrigo activated his sensors to determine if the flight control unit could be removed. ''Not without time. Time to go.''

Westward Fight Near Beierdopp - Marev and Galaar's Song
Ferrigo walked carefully near the verges of trees and shrubs as dusk gave way to night, listening to the radio chatter of his company as well as others. Occasionally, he stopped to listen to external noises or observe movements from distance that triggered brief colored light pulses inside his helmet on vigilant mode. He adjusted the sensory inputs of his helmet with blinks of his eyes at projected menus in his HUD. I'm near a village. ''Six clicks from Ehnyc Traat'ika. ''

The lone Mandalorian heard distant rustling of foliage. ''Civvies? Kyr'stad?'' Ferrigo quietly clucked his tongue to change channels to transmit to the entirety of Senaar Company. "This is Senaar Commander. OpFor in the Merelandes Region have anti-air assets. Recommend avoiding valleys within twenty klicks of the following coordinates." Ferrigo listed the coordinates of the shuttle ruin and continued. "We have parked Abiik Sa'viingalaar and are proceeding on foot until we secure ground transport. Captain Buniin and I are heading westerly along the ridge above a village to our south. Says Beierdopp. Lieutenant O'adde is staying with the ship, but radio silent."

Ferrigo listened. "Roger that, Al'verde." His HUD displayed Ruus'alor Aran'ar Ordo.

Ferrigo crouched in the shrubs without moving, and engaged a composite HUD view that included thermal imagery. He had already activated his weapons systems when he inspected the crashed shuttle. He had his left hand Taddie drawn and held muzzle upward near the left side of his chestplate.

A group of humans or humanoids approached and stirred the shrubs near them as they neared Ferrigo's position. Several of the shapes pinged with sharp tones and were wreathed thinly in orange. Prosstang quietly inhaled and stretched his gloved fingers, before he closed his grip again. The group came to a stop thirty meters away. In the dark of a moonless night, Ferrigo could only make outlines of their clothing and gear with resolution.

"It was your own fault you killed our dogs!" A man shouted at a pair of men who seemed to be heavier set. Wearing armor and helmets. The glow surrounding five of the shapes changed to red in Ferrigo's HUD.

One of the two men situated closer quickly drew and fired a blaster pistol at the former dog owner. The man was sent back with a smoldering wound in the center of his face and back of his head. A woman screamed and held her hands to her mouth. "If this dala doesn't shut her trap, put it down for her, Marev." The woman gasped and sobbed.

A minute later a majority of the group, except the two men involved in the confrontation continued to follow along the path toward him and the shuttle many minutes walk away. The others turned left in front of Ferrigo by twenty meters distance, headed for the slopes of the nearby ridge. Ferrigo waited until both parties were distant before he began to trail the men with the apparently captive female. He pressed a button on his left gauntlet to activate and select his electro-darts.

Ferrigo whipped his left hand up and fired his Taddie at the armored man who seemed to be issuing orders. The man lurched forward onto his knees. Prosstang then swept his left gauntlet quickly and squeezed his hand into a fist, the pistol pointed downward. The man called Marev dropped his blaster and gripped his neck as jolts of electricity coursed through his neck and upper body. The other man turned toward Ferrigo and sent a barrage of blaster rounds in his direction with a quick draw. ''Di'kut! This guy's fast. ''

The woman began to sprint back toward Ferrigo and the village lights before she was shot in the back by the man who released a barrage of blaster shots. Ferrigo was pushed back by the force of two heavy energy bolts slamming into his beskar torso plates. He staggered backward and spun quickly, and let loose two shots of his own into the belt of his attacker before two more blaster bolts sent him into the crushed road between the rows of trees. From the ground, Prosstang fired a shot into the right wrist of the highly effective shooter, and caused the woman's killer to drop his right pistol. The man used his left blaster pistol to silence the shrieking woman with a shot to her upper body as he walked confidently downslope toward Ferrigo. The larger, heavier man in armor still jiggled and writhed as Ferrigo held his left index finger on the button of his right gauntlet.

"Let up from that charge, Mandalorian, and I'll kill you quickly." The man approached and lifted his blaster again.

Ferrigo let up from the button and shot the man in the upper chest with his left blaster. Immediately, Prosstang ducked to his right and reached down to grip his right Taddie blaster, still in its holster. He fired several bolts into the ground and boots of the approaching attacker.

The attacker fell to the ground, rolled slightly and his right hand tossed two oblong objects toward Ferrigo. Prosstang leaned up. Jets on! His body jerked up from the ground and soared backwards a split count before a pair of bright explosions sent searing bullets and shards of metal into smoldering lines and arcs around the clearing among the trees. Ferrigo twisted his body and tucked his helmet into his chestplate to avoid a large branch overhead. He also twisted his left wrist abruptly and felt the dart-loading mechanism ratchet another round into place.

-Gar kad.-

Prosstang glanced up and inhaled deeply as he emerged above the leafy tree canopy. He finished pulling his dark-saber from the holster behind his right shoulder. His relief was short-lived as he looked up to see that his opponent was already drifting down in an arc, boots first, toward his head and chest. His opponent also held a dark-saber over his head with both hands. Kriffer be Ha'rangir!

Ferrigo turned slightly, his helmet took the full brunt of a blade blow the instant after a deep, aching pain shot through his chest from the powerfully-built man's leading boot. His scalp jolted as electricity surged throughout his helmet, and his hands released his pistol and dark-saber. Ferrigo blinked his eyes, though is HUD deactivated and he dropped into the dense branches of the tree below, bouncing his way down before he landed on his side and clutched clumps of thick grass. He gasped and spun himself, lifting his center of gravity to stand on the inside edges of his boots. His opponent landed softly on the ground seven paces distant after cutting his jetpack thrust.

"You're no match for me, Mandalorian." The sneer in the man's boast raised Ferrigo's blood temperature. The stranger held his white-glowing dark-saber out to his right. It whistled, hummed and clicked much the same as the one Ferrigo possessed.

Ferrigo looked to his right. "You're a coward and an amateur. The marks of Kyr'tsad," Ferrigo raised his hands slightly. "Now put down your toy."

"You talk tough for someone who just had his buy'ce caved in," the braggart who had backed up his words to this point continued with slight pity in his voice that morphed into delight. "You're unarmed, ner vod."

"Maybe we can fight like real men."

Ferrigo felt a sudden jolt of pain in his right thigh as his opponent fired a dart. Ferrigo fell to the ground holding his thigh. His teeth gritted as he grimaced through the pain.

"I didn't tell you you could lay down, di'kut."

"Guess you're not a man," Ferrigo grunted and seethed. "I don't listen to landuur jagyc."

The large, burly man whose armor still steamed shuffled his heavy boots as he took a stance next to his comrade. "Usen'ye, you need to learn your manners. Take it to him, Galaar."

"With pleasure, Marev." The whistle of the younger man's updrawn dark-saber cued Ferrigo to act. The larger man began to level his own gauntlet at Ferrigo.

Ferrigo groaned aloud and squeezed his hands into fists. A dart flew from his left gauntlet into the smaller man's left thigh as a stream of liquid flame erupted and waved in front of and onto both of his opponents from his right gauntlet. "Me'dinuir!"

Galaar, as he was called, had to retreat from the flame without a swing of his blade. Marev was likewise forced to back off from Ferrigo. The light of the flame gave enough light for Prosstang to see the hilt of his replica dark-saber above a nearby clump of decayed vegetation. The flaming form of Galaar came at him swinging as Ferrigo picked up and deftly activated his own saber to clash and parry his strong, enraged opponent. Prosstang's left leg and boot tip whipped hard and fast to punch the side of Galaar's boot. Galaar screamed in pain as his boot armor was bent to pinch and crush his fibula. The attacker brought down a furious series of chops with his whistling, shrieking blade. His long blonde hair flowed from the back of his helmet with each pulsing overhand swing at Ferrigo, who met every blow with his own determined strength. The fierce reports of screeches and chirps of the clashing dark-sabers were enclosed within the large shroud of moss-covered trees.

"Kyr'mr gar!!" Galaar yelled repeatedly.

Ferrigo saw Marev approaching again, his armor smoldering and only slightly burning.

"Ne'luubid Mar'v? Majyce!" Ferrigo indeed gave Marev additional pause with another spurt of flame directly into the large man's groin, abdomen and chest.

Galaar's blade whizzed down fast, but not fast enough to beat Ferrigo's helmet-top block. A loud ting and whimper of the clashing sabers culminated in a shocking burst of light that caused Ferrigo to roll over to his left. Galaar backed away, briefly stunned. Marev continued to be bedeviled by flaming, sticky residue and roared as he ran toward a large, lush shrub.

"Ga'riye, Galaar. Gar riye." Ferrigo spread a rope of flame at his most dangerous opponent. Galaar backed up further and leapt from the ground, his jetpack activated to begin an ascent and curling flanking maneuver.

Ferrigo stood uneasily. He tapped a few buttons on his right gauntlet in quick succession and then held his left index finger on the familiar button on his right gauntlet as Galaar approached. Both of his opponents screamed as electricity coursed throughout their bodies. Ferrigo slowly sank to his knees, and felt weak. He gripped his right gauntlet, and ensured constant pressure on the activation button. His opponents continued to be electrocuted as Ferrigo carefully laid on his side and then back.

Galaar twisted and hovered backward at an angle. The screams of Marev became a high-pitched wail, and the metallic sound of Galaar landing on his jetpack induced a weak smile across Prosstang's lips. Galaar roared several curses at the Mandalorian who laid on his back, resting in peace with his arms folded. Finger stuck against the activator button.

Ferrigo allowed the weight of his helmet fall to the right side. He saw the trembling body of Galaar. He knew that he no longer held the button down. But the vicious braggart jerked uncontrollably thirty meters away. Has to be Death Watch. Ferrigo could not keep his eyes open any longer. "You...got me...Ga...laar...You...dance...so nice....haaa...."

The Manda At The Verge
''-You will live if you believe in our future. My Mandalore.-''

The soft, feminine voice of the beautiful blonde was clearer than it had been for minutes, maybe many minutes. He had heard her in the background, she soothed him. Eased his pain. Ferrigo felt his tongue dry and rasped like an abrasive layer meant to remove paint. His gaze inside his helmet was unfocused. He drifted back into sleep.

''-The Mandalorians need you. Your destiny awaits.-''

What about the Death Watch?

''-All Mandalorians will need you in the end. Your life will change. Suffering and joy will be mixed, and not always in equal measure. You must believe that you are the difference without proclaiming the truth, but to one person.-''

''What difference? What truth? and What one person?''

Hard Contact, Hard Rescue - The Care of Trandoshan-Mandalorians
"Al'verde Prosssstang?" the voice, a male voice, called him out of sleep. "Yesss. Glad to sssee you're coming out of it."

"Huh?" Ferrigo yawned stretched until he felt sharp pains. "Ow! Eesh. What happened to me?"

A large Trandoshan wearing a grey flight suit leaned over him, blocking the light of the shuttle cargo bay.

"Motherkriffer!" Ferrigo yelled with surprise and grabbed the collar of the reptilian humanoid with his left hand and prepared his right fist for contact.

"Sssu'cuyyyyy to youuuuu tooooo," the tongue of the Trandoshan slapped gently across his teeth as he grabbed Ferrigo's right hand with his left claw and held up a stump of a right forearm. "Thisss hurtsss more than you can know, Al'verde."

Ferrigo gazed at the Trandoshan with horror and released his collar. Then, a second Trandoshan, wearing a custom fit set of deep-red beskar'gam stepped from behind the first Trandoshan.

"Don't worry too much. It will grow back," the second Trandoshan said with a slightly humorous grin. "In a year or two."

"What happened? Who are you?"

"We are Mando'ade. We ressscued youuu," the Mandalorian armor-wearing reptilian said. "You were laid out from a good beating, and a sstrong dose of poison. I'm Urrosk." The standing reptilian turned and paced. "He's Pud."

"Alor'uus Pud Mekk," the seated Trandoshan growled softly and looked at his stump. "Bessskar Traat'aliit, Ehnyc Traat'ika, Mirshe Ol'averde. And third generation Clan Prosssstang."

Ferrigo gestured to Urrosk. "Your rank, unit and affiliation, ner vod."

"Verd'ika Urrosk Hawxxon, ssssame squad as Pud. Clan Awaud. Our fathers served Jaster Mereel. We serve Jango Fett. Jussst like you." Urrosk touched a few items around the cargo hold. "We thought you might not make it, Al'verde. What do you remember?"

"I remember...two guys. One really big. Both pretty tough," Ferrigo sighed and tried to sit up. He bore down his teeth as he rose to a fully-seated position. "They killed some civvies down in a valley. Beierdopp."

"Yesssss. We had to get them away from you before we could give you first aid," Pud, the seated Trandoshan of the Clan Prosstang opened his left claw with a flourish. "I opened your flight suit at the leg, pulled out the dart buried in there and drew out as much of the poison as I could."

"Thank you, thank you both." Ferrigo mustered a smile.

"It wasn't pretty," Pud Mekk said calmly with what almost seemed a smile. "And you don't taste very good. We have a few bacta patches on your leg. There was also a sssslight cut along your sssscalp."

"Well, I'm glad you were there for me, ner vode. What about the two opposing forces guys?" Ferrigo took a deep breath, fighting through a feeling of exhaustion. And confusion. He now remembered Hako Mekk's words.

"One of them got my claw as a trophy," Pud shook his head and looked at the deck plates.

"Well, that's not going to stand. Do we have coordinates or sightings?"

Hawxxon paused and lifted his claw to gently tickle his minimally existing lips. "No, unfortunately, our sergeant was killed by the saber wielder, and the rest were subdued by a grenade explosion before the two fled to the eassst."

"I need to make a full report to Ruus." Ferrigo found and put on the pieces of his beskar'gam that had been removed. He sat down and examined his helmet thoughtfully. The cleave mark was the length of a hand and curled inward to fingertip depth. Hod Ha'ran. He put his bucket on. "Who's been the commanding officer here?"

"Commander Geessssil, sir. He's already reported, after talking with usss. He wants to sssee you as soon as possssible." Hawxxon said softly.

Ferrigo nodded before he rose slowly to his feet. "You'll both receive commendations when this is over."

"If you mean feasssting on deliciousss meatsss, fine Zeltron vinegars, and Felucian root bulbs while being attended by beautiful Zeltron consortsss...Then I am there, Commander."

Pud shook his head. "Vinegarzzz?"

Prosstang smiled and turned slowly before leaving the shuttle. "After we finish this job."

A Bold Move In The Ranks Before Daybreak
The antenna beacon lights swelled and faded in the dark as Ferrigo approached the poorly-lit stoop of a low-quality two-story duracrete building. The building stood to the side of the security cage around the antenna. "Su'cuy, Silas." Ferrigo said as he entered the small office, which was stunningly well-lit.

"Al'verde Prosstang," Silas stood from his chair after pushing back from a desk. His left hand rested on his helmet, his eyes and a hand gesture regarded someone sitting across the desk. "Ruus'alor Neviik."

"Al'verde Geessil," the beautiful, black-haired, tiny woman wore her beskar'gam. "Ogir ni naasade," she began her complaint but gasped when she saw Ferrigo fully after leaning forward in her seat. "Ner buir'yc kyr'vhetinegota! Al'verde Prosstang! Gar Buy'ce? T'alondir."

Ferrigo also regarded her for a few counts. "Vore, ner vod. Ni copaanir gar slanar rud she'cu canaar lo oriyala veeray. Haar'chakla Kyr'tsad." He gripped his utility belt pouches and turned his helmet to face Silas. He indeed figured she should have been in a nearby town several hours ago if he had not tangled with Marev and Galaar.

"Me'bana?" Alor'akada seemed genuinely concerned about what happened to Ferrigo.

"Jate tionas, orikih Neviik." Ferrigo returned his gaze to the little warrior. "Bal gar tsikala akaanir?" Prosstang turned to Silas again. "Tion'jor?"

"Pross." Silas lifted a hand as if to soothe his friend and cleared his throat and spoke in Galactic Basic. "She's going with Aliik Vhekadgalaar toward Bergkratz. There's nothing she can do here. We have maybe run across what, one or two students? The rest are veteran militia and unknowns-"

"Fierfek, Silas. We both know we're talking Death Watch here." Ferrigo grimaced under cover of his helmet.

"Speculation, ner vod," Silas shook his head and ran his right hand through his black hair. "Doesn't matter. Jango wants her where she can be more effective. Yesterday."

"I hear that loud and clear, Silas. I intended to drop her myself last night before my shuttle was taken out," Ferrigo paused and raised a finger, and turned to Alor'akada Neviik. "But I'm moving on. Good luck for your agitation, little girl." He slammed the door shut as he left.

Senaar Company Changes The Game
''Pross, I don't want you falling out of line. I need you sharp and focused. I took Neviik because I need you focused. Yes. I heard about the scrum before we drop-shipped. No, this isn't a reward for her. Take it easy, Pross. We need the rest of those stations and towers under our control by this evening. You'll have to do better than yesterday. Much better. ''

Jango Fett's words rang in Ferrigo's mind as the shuttle craft bounced and shifted on turbulent pockets of warmed air. He stood over the shoulder of newly promoted Alor'ad Noxxet Kik'nog as he steadied the nose into the thinning clouds. Ferrigo put on his welded, dented buy'ce. "Ready turbolasers. Open the Company channel, Captain Kik'nog."

The pilot adjusted in his seat and flipped several switches before he raised his right thumb in affirmation.

"Good morning, Senaar Company. Commander Prosstang here. Today is a new day ner vode," Ferrigo smiled. "Flight crews, charge your turbolasers. We will be flying nap of surface in two minutes to limit any efforts to track us on our approach. Our enemies expect us to disembark. We will instead surgically remove or reduce emplacements with three waves of strafing runs. Sergeants. Coordinates are being uploaded and confirmed to your navcomp targeting suites. Form three chevrons staggered port and starboard from our lead position. We will be changing altitude during our runs between targets to increase the confusion on the ground. Mirshe Company will be split, providing flanking cover and follow up on hard targets."

Ferrigo continued. "We are not kriffing around today. I expect that Atin Squads will secure each facility after establishing automated signal transmission systems. If each of these kriffing places needs to be set to blow on attempted disturbance after we've taken it, make it so. There should be enough explosive compound and catalyst units with each Cin Squad to send each of the towers into orbit."

The next few hours across the territorial holdings of the Governor of Galidraan, bystanders on the ground witnessed a seemingly limitless chain of explosions near remote communications towers. Some of the towers nearer to towns exploded with cracking booms as part of a relentless attack by small but powerful shuttlecraft armed with turbolasers and air-to-ground missiles.

A few locations required greater attention due to close proximity to residential areas. Merel City was such a place. Public broadcasts originated there that clearly expressed dissent and outright rebellion against the Governor. It was early afternoon when Ferrigo turned to Captain Kik'nog and announced over the Sol'yc Platoon channel. "Strafe the airfield. Leave no vehicle engine operable. Minimize live target damage."

The cockpit speaker squelched with a spurt of static from the cargo hold. "Commander Prosstang," the female voice was dubious. "Are we landing?"

"Not yet," Ferrigo looked at the approaching landscape. "Alor'uus Dawal, is it?"

"Yes, sir." She sounded chastened.

"Tell Ver'alor Tre'vhek and Ruus'alor Vhell to ready the troops to engage enemy insurgents. We are going to remove their response capabilities right now."

Seat of Rebellion - Merel City
Ferrigo shifted to the comm channel for the cockpits of Sol'yc Platoon craft. "Senaar-Sol'yc, attack!"

People on the ground, in the spaceport compound ran screaming as heavy bolts of energy ripped through the engine compartments of at least thirty pleasure craft, a half-dozen light freighters, one patrol fighter craft and dozens of land and air speeders. In less than ten counts, the three Meteor shuttles of Sol'yc Platoon, Senaar Company unleashed complete and terrific devastation on the Merel City spaceport.

Ferrigo looked at the map screen at the navigator station. "Captain. Take this shuttle to the Administrative Center for Merel City." In the upper right corner of his HUD, a small icon appeared after a soft ping repeated in his audio system. Oh, no.

The shuttle banked hard left, its lumbering engines roared and whined as buildings, shadows and brilliant rays from the primary star crossed the view panel into the cockpit. "Heading there directly, Commander." Kik'nog grinned. "Shall I send an invitation request?"

"Hold that thought, Kik." Ferrigo checked the navmap panel again. He then opened the cabin door to the cargo hold and closed it behind him.

The troopers in the cargo hold held onto hanging straps and cargo nets as they shifted slightly with the shuttle as it bounced on warm air pockets.

"Commander Prosstang," one of the female troopers began with a question. "Are we going wet here?"

"Atin Squad. Be ready for anything. But keep your cool," Ferrigo continued. "This town has been a broadcast center for the opposition. This might be a chance to gather," Ferrigo gripped his hand into a fist. "...intel."

"Yes, Aliit'alor," Yomaget Tre'vhek waved to a few of the female verde wearing Nite Owl gear. "I'm planning to have Ruus'alor Vhell do the talking, Alor'uuse Dawal and Betra will set up in positions to snipe or take out snipers. The rest of us will protect Vhell."

"Protect. Vhell." Ferrigo mused and looked at the other troopers, his HUD pinged and displayed information about each of them with a blink of his right eye. "Well, Vhell, I hope there is enough room in your shadow for your Al'verde. You will remove your helmet on my signal to provide the friendly face these locals might be soothed by."

"What if I don't want to show my face?" Ruus'alor Vhell asked. Finally, words.

Ferrigo turned his helmet to his left to regard her as he rested his palms on the tanned roba leather pouches of his utility belt. He stared at her for seven counts without saying a word.

Vhell broke the silence amid the hum of the growling shuttle engines. "What are you gonna do?"

"Glad you asked that," Ferrigo allowed his visor to remain fixed on hers, though he looked at the others and their reactions. "I'm going to do the talking. And signal the start to anything...un-friendly. From there, it's in Ver'alor Tre'vhek's capable hands. Getting intel from these people will be my job."

The landing craft banked and bounced on the warm afternoon air rising from the city rooftops and slowed into a deep left turn. Ferrigo slapped the large red button to his right, heard and felt the rush of air blast the cargo hold and watched as bright light reflected off the faces of buildings in the wake of the shuttle, beyond the silhouetted troopers as they adjusted themselves to disembark. Rifles at-the-ready with punch-blades fastened near their muzzles.

Ferrigo turned and walked to the cockpit door. He opened it and shouted to Captain Kik'nog. "No on the invitation request, Kik. We might not be the only party crashers, anyway. Keep your systems on high sensitivity. Alert Senaar, Mirshe and Ruus that we may have complications at Merel City."

"Okay, Commander," the pilot then quipped over his shoulder as he moved the ship to land on the duracrete plaza near the steps to the civic building. "Parting gifts are planned instead."

"Keep your channel open to me and Ver'alor Tre'vhek. And get your pistols. Our feet are on the sofa in the town living room." Ferrigo chuckled and closed the cockpit door. The cargo ramp was fully down and extended. The blade sharp edge of the ramp slightly crushed the duracrete as the shuttle came to a rest.

"Out! Go! Go! Go!" A towering Yomaget Tre'vhek yelled and pointed to the left side of the ramp. Alor'uuse Dawal and Betra made quickly for the civic building steps, the first tier visible from the top hinge of the ramp. Verd'ika Oriade and Gerruk followed to the steps, and Alor'uus Ghebiin stood at the right side of the bottom of the ramp, and swept his rifle in a side-to-side arc.

Tre'vhek began to walk down the ramp with his scoped carbine at the ready. Ferrigo pointed to Ruus'alor Vhell and motioned to the ramp. She shook her helmet slightly, then walked down the ramp behind his cousin to the right. Ferrigo removed his right side Taddie blaster and cradled it on his left gauntlet as he fell into step behind the sturdily-built Mandalorian woman.

Ferrigo felt his purple cape catch a breeze and tug against his jetpack. He cycled through his HUD display modes. Only mild-green threats beyond close and mid-range. He blinked his eyes in sequences to change menus and select options for gear. He tapped buttons on each of his gauntlets. Prosstang looked ahead to Yomaget and Sergeant Vhell as they mounted the steps. Dawal and Betra were nowhere to be seen.

Prosstang clucked his tongue and activated a private channel with Ver'alor Tre'vhek. "Keep an eye on Vhell, Yom'ika."

The group ascended the last tier of steps before approaching the open doors of the civic hall. "What is it, Pross?"

"She's sending unauthorized long-distance signals from her personal comm unit," Ferrigo mused. "Has been since we announced our side trip to Merel City."

Yomaget turned his head to look at and over Ruus'alor Vhell to Ferrigo as the three of them crossed through the threshold. Ferrigo nodded slightly. "Shall I waste her, ner vod?" Yomaget whispered as he returned his helmet to face forward.

"No," Ferrigo paused for several counts. "We need intel. Think of her as bait."

The small group approached what appeared to be a reception counter, staffed by a single human female who raised her voice to echo throughout the naturally well-lit chamber. "Excuse me, do you have an appointment? We don't accept armed persons here at the Merel City Civic Building."

Ferrigo spoke coldly through his vocal emitter. "We've been appointed by the Governor of Galidraan to bring peace back to his people. You'll have to accept us as we are, Miss. Now take us to the Chief Administrator of this city."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." the young woman said with a wavering voice.

"You should be more afraid of the consequences for inciting sedition against the planetary Governor," Ferrigo pointed at the receptionist with his left index finger. "Take her, Ruus'alor. Use your binders."

"Not a good idea, Al'verde Prosstang," Sergeant Vhell said aloud and scoldingly as her helmet jiggled and shook side to side.

Standing almost directly behind her, Ferrigo quickly slammed the inside of his right gauntlet against the right side of Ruus'alor Vhell's helmet. With a loud pop-clunk the Mandalorian woman spun around to her left as she fell to her hands and clattering metal knee guards. Her rangefinder crackled with sparks and faint smoke fumes.

"Nar'sheb shabuir ne'duraa!" Vhell shouted angrily.

"Ne shab'rud'ni Ruus'alor," Ferrigo continued icily, and wiggled his fingers upward toward the female sergeant. "Ni piruni gar sur'haaise. K'atini. Laam."

Vhell growled as she stood to face Ferrigo.

"Get to it, Ruus'alor." Tre'vhek held the civilian by the shoulders and turned her slightly to respond to him. "Where are we going, young lady?"

Vhell applied the binders to the wrists of the receptionist

"We're going down the hall to the last set of doors. The office of the Administrator for Merel City is there."

They resumed walking the long corridor.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue, took in the visual information in his HUD and selected Aliik Sa'viingalaar II from his menu. A series of low, tumbling tones without a response. Captain Kik'nog. ''Gotta be there, ner vod. Come on, Kik''. He clucked back to audible mode.

The three Mandalorians and their hostage, named Anika, stood ten paces from the tall, ancient double doors to the administration offices of Merel City.

Ferrigo looked to their captive. "Open them."

"I can't," she responded. "I don't have the key."

"You are the key," Ferrigo lifted his Taddie blaster muzzle toward the high ceiling fifteen or more meters above. "Open them. Or face the penalty for sedition."

Yomaget Tre'vhek escorted her to a few paces distance from the doors. "Do as he says, young lady. And you won't get hurt."

"Maybe you'll get worse, girly." The voice of Ruus'alor Vhell wore a sneer.

"Shut it, Ruus'alor," Tre'vhek said patronizingly.

"We don't have all day, Anika. Get the doors opened." Ferrigo said with a slight chill as he verified activation of his weapons systems.

"I don't have a code. They won't let me in." Anika pleaded.

"Back up, then." Ferrigo commanded in a low tone at high volume. He holstered his right blaster and removed his dark-saber from over his right shoulder and activated it. He punched the eerily chattering onyx blade with its erratic purple halo through the right side door like it was Corellian saltnut butter and rapidly moved the blade up, curved left and then dropped toward the floor, with a rightward curl and then an upward motion to finish the elongated oval cut as he lifted back to a full standing position. In one quick motion, Ferrigo deactivated the blade and holstered it over his right shoulder and whipped both Taddies out from their holsters with spinning flourishes. "Tsikala?"

Ver'alor Tre'vhek nodded, with his carbine pointed at the hostage. Ruus'alor Vhell stood silently.

Ferrigo used the bottom of his right boot to powerkick the cutout through into the space beyond. "Ruus'alor, lead the captive into the offices." Ferrigo pointed to the opening with his right Taddie pistol as he backed away to the right of the door.

Vhell shook her head, and her helmet almost seemed to vibrate until the rangefinder bar fell off from the side housing. The Ruus'alor escorted their hostage through the opening with Ver'alor Tre'vhek not far behind. Ferrigo bent down and retrieved Vhell's rangefinder before he passed through the gaping hole in the door.

Ferrigo took in their surroundings, and switched comm frequencies to the secure channel with the flight crews. "Take out the shabuir antenna at Merel City. Surgical. We're at rebellion headquarters. Civic center building. Aliik Sa'viingalaar II, prepare for dust-off in ten."

A tall, heavy-set human male wearing custom-tailored civilian clothes approached Ferrigo with two well-dressed females, one dark brown-skinned human, one light blue-skinned Twi'lek. The male stopped five paces from the Mandalorians and their captive and spread his hands expansively. "Welcome to the capital of the Merelandes Region, Merel City. I am Niels Derrful, civic administrator and these are two of our civic legislators, Ulrekka Ardd and Nalida Sanada," the man grinned slightly. "I would ask that you please release our receptionist and put your weapons away. You can then turn around and leave the premises. And call off your attacks on our citizens."

Ferrigo motioned toward the three civic leaders. "We're trading up. The three of you are coming with us. Anika can stay here." Ferrigo saw a blinking red light in the upper right corner of his HUD. "Ruus'alor, lock up those three in binders. Ver'alor, keep your eyes open and blaster ready. I'll be right back."

Ferrigo exited the office wing through the gaping hole and walked into the long corridor as he cycled through his HUD display data screens. He blinked toward the upper right and shifted his focus toward the right-center, which pulled a menu for holoimage transmissions into view. He blinked hard twice, and shifted his weight and raised his blasters in a gently sweeping motion as he continued to walk toward the entrance.

A holoprojection of Vharrel Pross'kade appeared. "Al'verde? We are facing an aerial attack out here. Not civvies."

"Ver'alor Pross'kade. We're trying to secure intel assets here at the Civic Hall. We took out the spaceport. Did some escape our assault?" Ferrigo felt his blood warmed.

"Sir, it's a mix of shuttles and sen'tra units," Pross'kade sounded weary.

"Come again?" Ferrigo tapped the left side of his helmet with his Taddie blaster. "Jetpack units?"

"Yes, Al'verde. We are being scoured from ground-based heavy weapons and aerial units."

"Have you taken out the antenna?" Ferrigo demanded as he paced back toward the Civic Administrator offices. Ferrigo saw a brief flash before a loud bang and thick shroud of smoke erupted near the damaged door in the distance. "Hit the antenna and locate my shuttle pilot. Got that?" Ferrigo began to trot toward the smoke with his blasters raised and spread apart from each other.

"No on the target, Al'verde. And your pilot's not responding. He's attacking us."

Never A Dull Moment...
Ferrigo broke into a run for the administration offices, his HUD set to detect any heat signatures. He also ran a quick scan for chemicals in the air. ''No toxic agents. No life forms.''

Ferrigo felt a boot to the undercarriage of his cod piece which drew a gasping yell from the Mandalorian.

"Yoma!" Ferrigo yelled as he then felt a boot to his right side. His right side blaster went flying toward the main entrance as he twisted to the left and he tucked his elbow against his side. He lowered his left side Taddie and rapidly fired several shots across his waist, both ion and standard blaster rounds. As his right elbow tucked in, he turned his hips to the right squeezed his fist tight to release a burst of flame toward his assailant through the smoke. Several of his blaster bolts found their target.

"Nar'shebs di'kut!"

Ferrigo heard the yelling rasp of the female voice and immediately activated his jetpack to fly a short burst above and beyond his target, which showed as a staggering and burning form in his HUD.

Her chest and shoulders were aflame, but her arms were free and fired several heavy blaster bolts into Ferrigo's torso as his beskar plated left boot landed center mass between her flaming, armored chest cups.

"Kriff!" the Mandalorian opponents both yelled in unison, but as she landed on her back from the force of his kick, Ferrigo stomped on her chest and left shoulder. The Mandalorian woman's shriek was abbreviated by his full weight for a split count before he continued into the wall a pace and a half away.

Ferrigo tried to catch his breath, but spun to find the woman had already risen and begun her screaming charge into him. He fired his jetpack a moment too late and her helmet slammed into his mid-section, which caused him to drop his other blaster pistol. She pushed her helmet into him below the utility belt pinning his rear to the wall as his upper torso bent with the thrust from the jets. Ferrigo yelled again as he felt a vibroblade plunge into the back of his left thigh several times. He activated his own right gauntlet vibroblade and punched downward into the area under his attacker's left arm.

Vhell screamed as blood poured and sprayed from the gaping wound Ferrigo opened through her flight suit. They yelled a stream of profane curses at each other as she backed away, the smoke from the earlier grenade had mostly dissipated. Ruus'alor Vhell's armor still smoked, and a trail of blood led from Ferrigo to her current stance. She growled and released a liquid rope of flame at Prosstang, as his jetpack again lifted him from the floor.

"Echuta ne'meshla dala!" Ferrigo yelled as he flew over her.

They exchanged blaster fire throughout his arc, and several of the rounds from her gauntlets scored hits on his armored torso and legs, but he felt only the heat of the volley. Her helmet took two solid hits, as did her thick torso. Ferrigo twisted to land on his boots to face her and Bu'una Vhell instantly folded her torso down, blood dropping to the marbelite floor from under her left arm.

Ner shebs!

Ferrigo activated his jetpack again as he anticipated then heard her shriek. "Fire!"

He was jerked from the floor toward the ceiling arches as a missile crashed into the wall where he had been. The pulsing, concussive ripple of the violent explosion was partially compensated by his flight suit, but he was thrown into a column capital, cracking off several ornamental pieces on impact. He saw that Vhell herself was in flames, thrown back into the opposite wall by the blast, unconscious as Ferrigo descended to the floor under a controlled low-thrust. The wall to the right was in flames. Ferrigo winced in pain. Never a dull moment.

Marked For Death
A familiar voice echoed through the hall. "May I have the next dance?"

Ferrigo turned his helmet to see Galaar, Marev and over ten men and women near the reception desk brandishing blaster rifles and wearing variants of Mandalorian shocktrooper armor. Painted black.

"I might need to freshen up," Ferrigo grimaced silently and inhaled through the pain he felt in the back of his left leg and mid-section. He gestured his thumb over toward the traitorous Ruus'alor Vhell. "My last partner has a bad smoking habit." As Galaar and his entourage approached, Ferrigo could better see their armor and markings. Galaar's helmet bore the mark of two crescents opposite another connected to a central pointed spike. The same mark worn by Tor Vizsla, except in light blue rather than blood red.

"You can't imagine how pleased I was to hear that you were coming here." Light from the primary illuminated the atrium and Galaar's long blonde hair that rested on his left shoulder and chestplate.

"I'm charmed, too, Galaar," Ferrigo rested his palms on his utility belt pouches, his body facing the group at an oblique angle. "But, you oughtta think about leaving your friends out of this."

The black-armored Galaar shook his helmet slowly as he paced. "I don't believe in celebrating alone."

Ferrigo chuckled and winced through another ache in the back of his left leg. "You make cowardice sound both fun and rewarding. You take being a dar'manda hut'uun to a whole new level, Vevutyc'gemas."

"Oya!" Infuriated, Galaar let out a war cry as he ran toward Ferrigo and drew his white glowing dark-saber from over his right shoulder. Ferrigo matched the approaching attacker, with his own purple-glowing dark-saber.

A faint crack of a firing mechanism and the visual cue in Ferrigo's HUD helped him to dodge a pair of slicing razor micro-discs to his left.

Ferrigo let loose with another burst of flame from his right gauntlet, which was evaded by Galaar's leap into flight. Ferrigo joined him, as he lifted up and drifted to track his enemy. The two exchanged blaster fire and streams of flame from their gauntlets between close-in entanglements where the two clashed their dark-sabers swiftly and with power. Each sought advantage in their twists and lunges, and found none. They battled mostly to maintain balance as they floated five meters above the marbelite floor of the Civic Hall atrium. Neither seemed to be any worse for wear than when they began as they both settled down to the floor and resumed their exchange of blows in a dance of shuffles, spins and slides.

Galaar kicked Ferrigo in the abdomen, forcing Ferrigo back several steps, then fired a binding coil with his left gauntlet to tangle Prosstang's lower legs. With a leering snicker, the strong, blonde Mandalorian reached for the button on his left gauntlet to pull the line in.

Ferrigo swept his dark-saber downward from left to right and cut the line. The twang of the released tension echoed as Prosstang finished removing the line with the flat of his blade.

Galaar charged with a roar. Ferrigo deflected a fierce swing of the white glowing dark blade with his own purple blade before he spun around his opponent's back and leveled a hard whip of his dark-saber at the golden blonde hair pouring out from the back of Galaar's helmet. A clang rang out as the warhead of Galaar's rocket was sheared from its booster a fraction of a count before the blonde mane dashed toward the floor to evade Ferrigo's blade. The warhead from Galaar's rocket thunked and rolled heavily on the floor as the two Mandalorians continued their fierce combat.

Marev and the other black-armored thugs waited pensively, threatened the Mandalorian and cheered Galaar as a cacophony of whistles, whines, slices, tings, tangs, chirps and chitters ensued for a few minutes while Ferrigo and Galaar engaged in a swift and vigorous display of empassioned blade and hand-to-hand combat. Whenever the two broke with more than five paces distance, each fired ranged weapons at the other. Roars and hisses of streaming flame punctuated gauntlet blaster fire.

According to his HUD, Ferrigo's jetpack and flame unit were out of fuel. De-mag. His jetpack and gauntlet connection line dropped heavily, cracking the once-polished floor. Al'verde Ferrigo Prosstang held his glowing dark blade slightly forward and diagonally in front of his chest as he panted quietly and inhaled through his nostrils.

"Your blade," Galaar could almost be heard to pant. "Where did you obtain it?"

"Not the same dealer as you got yours, I hope." Ferrigo quietly took a deep breath.

"This blade was obtained from the Jedi Temple by my ancestors during the fall of the Old Republic." Galaar tapped his left fist against his chestplate.

Ferrigo shook his helmet slightly. "Never thought the Jedi were into selling their merchandise. Fire sale?"

"You're funny, for a dead man," Galaar sneered. "I'm going to deepen that gouge on your buy'ce and take a third of your head home for my trophy cabinet."

"Ge'sol sheb Kyr'tsad," Ferrigo quipped, though he felt a deep exhaustion. "I'm taking all of your pretty head from the neck up."

Galaar charged again after firing a stream of flame that Ferrigo avoided by rolling swiftly across the floor to his right. Ferrigo rose to his feet as quickly and attempted to fire a blaster round. The right side of his HUD had a number of red dot indicators. Empty! He saw that Galaar had a sidearm blaster holstered. ''Not good. Taddies please?''

Ferrigo closed on Galaar and locked blades after a few parries. Being slightly taller, Prosstang bore his T-visor downward against his opponent's.

"Whatcha watching in there, Galaar?" Ferrigo snapped. "I'm watching the weather report. Looks like your parade is going to see some heavy rain soon."

Still locked together in battle with their right hands gripped on their dark-sabers, Ferrigo felt a hard contact with his abdominal plate and shifted his right boot backward to allow Galaar's gauntlet-mounted vibroblade to deflect away. Prosstang shifted his weight back onto his right foot to gave a sharp, swinging left elbow smash to the right side and center of Galaar's helmet visor. The hard beskar blow on thin transparasteel caused a crack and surge of electricity through his opponent's helmet circuitry.

Ferrigo blocked a left knee lift and pushed Galaar back with a quick wrist-whipping motion with his right hand to knock down the white dark-saber blade for a split count to inflict a sharp, gouging overhead cut into the duraplast helmet Galaar wore.

Galaar screamed as smoke and sparks danced around his helmet. The blonde Mandalorian used his left hand to pull and drop his helmet off, revealing its exhausted, sweat-soaked, pink-faced owner.

Ferrigo saw the young man, with blue eyes that glared fury and long, damp blonde hair that matted to strong, angular facial features. Though apparently very young, Galaar's lower face was covered by a thick blonde mustache and pointed beard.

Suddenly, the floor and building shook violently. Galaar turned and began to run toward the main entrance, along with the rest of his group. Ferrigo turned to see Ruus'alor Vhell leap into the air with her jetpack activated a moment before she fired blaster rounds into atrium transplast skylight windows and flew up through the hole she had just made.

Even as the window fragments continued to cascade down to the marbelite floor below, Ferrigo hobbled quickly through the pain in his left leg to get to the Civic Administrator's office. He fetched his Taddie blasters from their scattered positions on the floor along the way.

"Yom'ika?!" Ferrigo yelled aloud as he stepped through the saber-cut hole in the door.

Limping To The Next Stage
Another series of thunderous explosions nearby rocked the building and sent some furnishings from desks onto the floor. Ferrigo braced himself by holding the door material and then entered. According to his HUD the office wing reception area was empty of the living, except for Yomaget Tre'vhek, who was sprawled out on his chest. Haar'chak.

Ferrigo attempted to communicate with the units of Senaar Company as he removed Tre'vhek's jetpack and set it against his cousin so that he could turn around and attach it to his own armored backplate. Sen'tra mag. He gasped, sighed and chuckled with relief when his HUD showed that Ruus'alor Sorn Kebiin'akaan was responding.

"Al'verde!" Ruus'alor Kebiin'akaan shouted. "Glad you're alive. We're on our way to extract you. Head for the courtyard. To the west of the...atrium."

"No can do. Don't land, Ruus'alor. We're going through the atrium roof. Be careful," Ferrigo warned. "Death Watch have just done an evac from our location."

"I know, sir," Kebiin'akaan muttered wearily. "I'm sorry. We can see them heading off east by southeast. In three of our shuttles, sir."

"I'll want a full sit-rep after I get aboard, ner verd."

"Elek, Al'verde."

Ferrigo removed the missile from his jetpack and hooked the collar below the warhead to his utility belt before dragging, lifting and shifting Yomaget Tre'vhek over his shoulders in the atrium where Bu'una Vhell had made her exit. Ferrigo struggled with the pain in his left leg, but activated Yomaget's jetpack to full power to slowly rise through the hole in the skylight window until they were more than three meters clear. Ferrigo carefully thrusted into the center of the landing ramp of the waiting Meteor Q-class shuttle, ensuring through his HUD cameras that his cousin's body was clear of the top rim of the hatch opening.

Once he set Yomaget down into the care of a few troopers inside the cargo hold as the ramp closed, Ferrigo took off his helmet. He went to the starboard bulkhead and pulled down one of the mounted seats and turned around with all of his weight resting on his rear. He placed the helmet on his right leg and folded his gauntlets on top of it before he rested his chest. He peeled off the head bib that held his sweat-soaked shoulder length brown hair back. He gasped for air and wiped his face with his right hand. He then looked up in the faint red light of the cargo hold at a familar face wearing female Nite Owl beskar'gam.

"You look horrible." The young woman said.

"Aren't you looking after someone back home?" Ferrigo narrowed his eyes as he gazed at her, and felt the throbbing pain in the back of his left thigh. He bit his lip.

"Don't worry, they're being cared for. By Melaa's mom," she smiled faintly.

He shook his head. "Anybody have a spare bacta patch? I have a deep kriffing wound in the back of my thigh. Hurts like Arasuum on Lotho Minor."

"You're walking," a wounded warrior said from a slightly inclined panel that he was strapped to. "Can't be too bad."

"What's your name, verd?"

"Ver'alor Pozz Beedel," the man squinted as if pain gripped his upper body, which was in fairness wrapped well with evident soaking of blood and plasma. "Used to pilot this bird."

Ferrigo looked at the others in the cargo hold, healthy or injured. "And, what happened?"

"Kyr'tsad had our six as soon as the squads disembarked to take the communication center outside Merel City. All over us," Beedel looked around, and held a few gazes with others before continuing. "Some were in hiding, but others dropped in unannounced. In ships just like ours. Nothing showed up on our scanners."

"Is that right, Anjii?" Ferrigo looked to his clan relation.

"As he said. They were on us instantly. Seemed like we would have...should have...known they were coming," she regarded Ferrigo. "Did you have anything in your HUD or on your ship's nav?"

"No." Ferrigo said firmly. Perhaps too firmly. "Except one thing," he rubbed his chin and winced with another sharp pain in his leg. "Ruus'alor Bu'una Vhell. She was making contact on a secure frequency outside of our authorized channels." Ferrigo paused and looked around. "She ended up going rogue. Tried to put an end to me. And Tre'vhek."

"So glad they didn't succeed." A young man sat across from Ferrigo.

Ferrigo narrowed his eyes on the young man who just responded. "What's your rank and name, verd?"

"Verd'ika Triig Vizsla."

Ferrigo's blood ran cold. "Me too, kid. Me too."

"We knocked out the comm station, Al'verde." Ferrigo looked to the speakers as he heard Ruus'alor Sorn Kebiin'akaan's voice. "And most of the other shuttles left as soon as they could load. We didn't leave anyone behind who signaled us."

"Good thing, Keb'ika. We're not going back if I can help it."

"You got the intel that Captain Kik'nog said you were hoping to get?"

Ferrigo took a deep breath and regarded the entire crew. "We got a lot more than we bargained for."

After an hour flight, the shuttle landed inside the citadel walls of the Burg Kiesl. Ferrigo, Ver'alor Beedel, Yomaget and others went to the makeshift infirmary established in a place of deity worship. A male human doctor who recently married into the Gilamar family of Clan Ordo by the name Mij did minor surgery with sufficient if not pleasing tools of the trade. The medical scanners he used were quite impressive, however.

"Your scanners gave a good picture of what's going on inside these verde, Doc. What's the scanner telling you about me?" Ferrigo asked with concern.

The doctor took a deep breath. "You are quite lucky, Al'verde Prosstang. Your wounds, though deep, did not do significant damage to your muscular tissue."

"I like the sound of that." Ferrigo smiled and looked into Mij Gilamar's grey eyes. "What about the others?"

"Well, I can give you a shot of bacta and cover your wound with a patch after sewing you up. The rest are going to take a bit more care." Gilamar looked around the infirmary before returning his gaze to Ferrigo. "Mand'alor has ordered that you get treated first. He requires your presence as soon as possible."

Ferrigo nodded.

All Dressed Up For A Dressing Down
Outside the rustic earthen, timber-framed cantina and hotel, snow fell as twilight and heavy grey clouds extinguished the bright light of the primary. Inside a warm residential suite, Jango Fett leaned against a desk as Ferrigo stood in front of him. Both wearing their beskar'gam, helmets off to their sides.

"You're back. What's happened the last few days seems pitiful, Pross," Fett shook his head a made a gesture with his hands and shoulders. "What's happening with you out there?"

"Death Watch," Ferrigo looked into Jango's dark brown eyes. "Surprised?"

"Not entirely." Jango put his comm headgear over his curly black hair.

"Why wasn't it in your briefing?"

"You tell me." Jango gazed at Ferrigo obliquely.

"Stop playing games, Jango." Ferrigo scowled and thrust his flattened hand to level above his eyebrow. "I've had it up to here with osik for the last few days. Nearly being killed twice by Death Watch while nobody else is there to cover my shebs. It's like I'm being set up."

"Now, why might that be, Ferrigo? Or is it Schingo?" Fett stared straight into Prosstang's steely blue eyes.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Ferrigo shifted, his weathered, red gauntlets folded across his chest. Right above left.

"I'm one of the best, Prosstang, and there's a reason for that. I understand motives. Like yours." Fett had a slightly self-satisfied grin as he raised his left eyebrow.

"What are we talking about here?" Ferrigo shifted again and lowered his gloved hands to his sides.

Jango Fett regarded Ferrigo silently for several counts, and gazed into his eyes. "You think maybe I'm going to take you down now. Hard merchandise. You know me, too. Because you're also one of the best," the Mand'alor regarded Ferrigo with a slight nod. "Schingo Velrrus."

Ferrigo cleared his throat. "Jango, I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Your fingers are limber," Fett murmured and stretched his neck very slightly with a tilt of his head. "You getting ready to draw on me, Velrrus?"

Unsmiling, Ferrigo shook his head slowly and slightly, his gaze still fixed on Jango's.

"Maybe you should?" Jango moved his right hand to grip his utility belt.

Ferrigo raised his hands slowly, fingers apart until his palms rested on top of his utility belt pouches. "This is your show, Jango. Ask yourself. Is Ferrigo Prosstang the instrument of your fear?"

Jango Fett chuckled. "I have no fear. But you and Schingo Velrrus have prices on your head. Big prices."

Ferrigo spread his hands facing up for a moment. "So? Why are we here?"

"To do a job," Jango shifted a glance toward the door and back. "And get paid well enough to cover you lot."

"Death Watch." Prosstang leaned back on his right leg slightly as he folded his arms in front of his chest. "What about them?"

"From what you've said, they're embedded here," Fett continued. "After the first few hours of skirmishes, the other companies in this region have hardly had any issues setting up perimeters and checkpoints. No Death Watch."

"Where are the students? The renegade militia?" Ferrigo spread his hands out above his head for a moment and looked around. "We have the comm stations eighty percent or more under control or destroyed. Where's this rebellion?"

"Maybe the Governor needs more time to stage it proper." Fett stood up straight. "Or Death Watch is trying to find out where the golden prize is." Fett pointed his finger at Ferrigo.

Ferrigo laughed for a few counts, then set his hands on his utility belt near his hips. "Why me?"

"You have bad blood, Pross, face it." Jango turned for a moment and walked behind the desk before he faced Ferrigo again. "And some of them want to see you dead. For the prize, for the glory."

"Dehet."

Fett nodded slowly. "Now you're catching on. I can only imagine the bounties Schingo Velrrus put on Dehet and Montross in the last year or so has provided more incentive for them to take any shots they can at him. Or you. Or your clan. Or your brethren in arms." Jango smiled grimly as he pointed his thumb at his own chest.

Ferrigo walked toward the entry to their upstairs suite and put his right hand on the doorframe.

Fett inhaled. "You're out, Pross."

"What?!" Ferrigo shouted in surprise. "What...you can't...I'm part of this, Jango. Jaster's Legacy."

"Hear me out, Pross," Fett put up his right hand. "You're becoming the focus. I need you gone until the insurrection is put down. I've been told our own troops are turning against us. Or you."

"Osi'karla." Ferrigo grunted. "Then put me out as bait."

"How would that work, Fer'k? We need to show that we're putting down the local insurrection, not fan someone else's flames and increase collateral damage," Jango shook his head. "Those fires fueled by you, or your friend Velrrus, need to be removed from our order of battle. For now. Just go somewhere to cool off. Hide out. Marry a waitress and dig a hole-"

"Oooooh, that hurt." Ferrigo smiled and shook his head.

"You got me, Pross?"

"I don't like it. I know you need me. Every one of us has done some work that's made someone else angry. Vengeful even. Don't send me off, Mand'alor." Ferrigo breathed deeply and sighed on the exhale. His last request was half-hearted. Required. But he knew Fett was right.

"I'll give you two troopers for added protection. But for all intended purposes, I'm going to send you where Death Watch will be encouraged to look. You will be doing us all a favor. Until this insurrection is shut down and we get our payment from the Governor. Then I'll call you back." Jango looked at Ferrigo. "Maybe sooner, ner vod."

"Where?"

"Rhen Var."

"You're kidding."

"No. I'm not," Fett looked at Ferrigo with his piercing brown eyes. "But you're not going there. I need your enemies to believe you've been cast out. They either calm down or head for Rhen Var. Which is an icy rock in the Tobali system we passed on our way here."

Ferrigo shifted his weight and rested his palms on his utility belt pouches again. "You're not thinking of killing me, Jango."

"Not today, Snake," Fett chuckled. "You keep things interesting. Besides, ner vod. I will need you." The Mand'alor reached into his pants pocket and produced a small datapad. "You're going to be close. With plenty of food and beverage provided. And a set of ears to monitor the situation. Change your gear, too."

Ferrigo looked at the datapad after his Mand'alor handed it to him. He then raised his gaze back to Jango Fett with a look of incredulity. "You motherkriffer, Fett. I'm staying here?"

"You're not, Pross." The two Mandalorians shared a laugh before Fett left to break the news about Al'verde Prosstang's departure for Rhen Var.

Weathering The Assault - Schingo Velrrus Returns
Ferrigo kept his Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam and cape on throughout the grey day as it snowed heavily, and only removed his helmet to eat meals and snacks and to get a better look at his weapons and replacement jetpack as he cleaned and maintained them. ''We're in a warzone. Second skin doesn't come off.'' Ferrigo switched out his left gauntlet with the dart launcher for another that had two micro-missile launchers and a launcher of explosive pellets.  He checked his braided cords of Trandoshan hide and Rancor hide.

He heard the stuttering and spurts of blaster fire as well as the cracks, booms and sizzles of explosions in the distance. His secure channel comm occasionally became active with chatter of troopers. He heard Ijaat Kabur respond to a Verd'ika Shiar about keeping his bucket on straight and laying down suppressing fire so Beskar and Cin Squads from T'adyc Platoon could withdraw.

Te'habir kovid be shebs ''Shiar! ''Kabur's deep, thunderous voice sent a shiver down Ferrigo's spine. ''Al'verde! Pinned down! A loud plang'' sounded.

Ruus'alor Beffo! Ijaat Kabur was livid. ''Beffo! Come on, haar'chakla shebs'mureyce! Fierfek. Someone. Anyone!''

The sound of blaster fire was in the distance was only punctuated with the sounds of grenades, rocket explosions, and at times the foosh of the rocket launches. The windows of the inn room rattled and shook as the firefight shifted nearer. Ferrigo took deep breaths and resumed examining his targeting sights and their synchronization with his helmet's heads up display. Earlier in the day he had stitched the rear of his left pant leg and heat-sealed the beskar threading. "Almost like new." He had said aloud to himself.

''How are we doing? What is our team of spies up to? This doesn't sound like success.''

Ferrigo checked the fit of his helmet with both hands. He clucked into his vocal receptor. "Jango. Snake has to slither. Sounds like these kids are slugging above their weight class."

Breathless, Fett responded. "Snake. Open my feed. Snap it, map it, make your way to the OpFor column. We need you to bottle this wave."

Ferrigo followed along with Jango's instructions using his HUD to highlight a holo-projected video feed from Jango's camera then located the focus area on a holo map. "Slow them down, Jango. I'll be there in ten shakes of my tail." He heard yells and screams over the comm. He turned the comm off and activated all of his combat readiness systems. He secured several items in his pouches and headed downstairs with his Taddies drawn. The innkeeper ducked as Ferrigo rushed down the last of the steps and passed the bar counter to push through the exit doors. Prosstang emerged into the wet, heavy snow.

Two Mandalorians with beskar'gam shoulder plate markings indicating Clan Awaud crouched on opposite sides of the lane partially behind utility cabinets facing the direction Ferrigo needed to head. Several bolts of energy zipped past them into the angled duracrete-smeared exterior walls. Snow continued to fall

"Ner vode," Ferrigo changed channels to Jango's Sol'yc Platoon and barked. "I'm leaving. Jango needs a hand on Nieberberger Street."

"We'll cover you, Ori'al'verde Velrrus."

Ferrigo did a double take, then shook it off. He scanned the data in his HUD as he regarded the two soldiers. Sergeants Hektor Awaud and Verrol Vu'udrel. "Hektor, Verrol, don't stay here any longer than you have to."

Ferrigo leveled his blasters down the lane and fired several shots as his jetpack lifted him quickly above the snow-covered slopes of the roofs around the lane. The sweeping fusillade laid down by his support team, the watchers provided by Jango, enabled Ferrigo to veer in a direct line along the spine of the roofs to the end of the lane. Prosstang holstered his left Taddie while in flight, and removed a small grenade cylinder. He turned and lowered his feet after getting a threat assessment in his HUD that showed the locations of his opponents. He clicked the red button on the end of the polished cylinder before throwing the grenade in the midst of four of the cold-weather geared insurgents. Ferrigo turned away and flew toward the objective Jango required of him.

A sharp cracking explosion raised several screams, and momentarily stopped the blaster fire. In his HUD, Ferrigo could see the Awaud clan verde as they flew above the remaining enemies and put them down before they turned to follow him.

"Mhi gar hukaat'kama, Ori'al'verde," Sergeant Awaud announced.

"Jate, jate." Ferrigo inhaled as he curled his body in a serpentine fashion before he extended his hands before him and began a gentle-angled dive toward Nieberberger Street. His right Taddie blaster and another grenade cylinder were prepared. "Showtime."

Ferrigo debouched above the lane that narrowed toward the citadel wall in the distance. Adin Kabur's company fired from their rampart positions on the lead elements of rogue militiamen, but many more insurgents were in the rear preparing heavy weapons for an all-out assault. Those of the insurgents in the lead that survived the fusillades of blaster fire made it to the base of the wall. In a split count, Ferrigo noted that the enemies were organized in something of a supply line of explosive assembly components.

Flanked by Hektor Awaud and Verrol Vu'udrel as they unleashed a torrent of blaster carbine fire between the exterior walls framing the lane, Ferrigo activated the grenade and dropped it as he accurately fired his right Taddie and released the two micro-missiles from his left gauntlet as squeezed his ring and small fingers into his palm. Insurgent militiamen screamed, yelled and gargled their last words as the ambushing aerial sweep of the Mandalorians devastated their ranks from behind and above. The Awaud clansmen turned around to face the enemy near the end of the lane closest to the Burg wall, and rose slightly above the roof gables as they fired rapidly into the kill zone. Ferrigo continued forward, strafing with Taddie blaster fire, explosive pellets and thrown grenade cylinders until the enemies at the base of the wall were smoldering husks.

"Ori'vore, Ori'al'verde Velrrus!" Adin Kabur's voice was clear in his helmet. Ferrigo smiled.

Ferrigo was joined by Hektor and Verrol as they flew around to ensure that Nieberberger Street was cleared of danger. Once they had verified that the opposition was silenced, they flew toward and over the Burg Kiesl wall to land on the rampart walk. Ferrigo holstered his right-hand Taddie after he checked its charge and reloaded the micro-missile mounts of his left gauntlet and checked his right gauntlet flamethrower unit lines.

Hektor turned to Ferrigo. "Duty calls, Ori'al'verde. Take care." As blaster fire occasionally passed near, Awaud lifted off from the rampart.

Hukaat Company On The Move
Ferrigo, Adin Kabur and Verrol Vu'udrel walked quickly down the stairs to the wide base of the defensive stone wall. Their boots then made the way into thick snow outside of the worn pathways.

Ver'alor Vu'udrel turned to Ferrigo and Adin. "I'm sure you have both been following this, sirs. Mand'alor says the Governor has ordered that we vacate the Citadel and set up our base camp outside of the urban area. The Governor believes our commandos are attracting attacks."

"And not the reason this whole insurrection began in the first place. Him." Ferrigo placed his palms on his utility belt pouches and turned to regard Vu'udrel and Adin Kabur, who latter just tucked the bottom of his visor into his chestplate. "You're kidding, Vu'udrel. Jango told his Honor to kriff it, I hope."

"No. Jango wants us to do as the client wishes. The Governor is paying the bills. Where is Jango?"

Adin Kabur spoke up. "He had to go cover someone else. We have to move now, Ori'al'verde Velrrus. Verrol's brother Rotch and my cousin Roke have their squads setting up tents in an old gravel pit about three klicks clear to the east by southeast."

"A hole? Great." Ferrigo shook his helmet.

"It's what the Governor wants." Adin shrugged as Ver'alor Vu'udrel opened a door with a darkened sign in Aurebesh above it that spelled Spotted Dragon.

"Well, I know Rokus can handle himself. I can only assume that whoever trained Relia trained Rot'cye." Ferrigo leaned against the doorjamb.

Verrol responded. "They'll be fine Ori'al'verde."

"Why isn't Relia Vu'udrel here, Ver'alor?" Ferrigo followed Adin and Verrol into the vacated cantina.

Adin interrupted. "Looks like my company have bugged out as ordered."

"Al'verde?" a voice called from upstairs. "All major equipment is on its way to the new base camp." Ferrigo recognized the voice, a Prosstang regional accent. Jannigo Prosstang appeared in the doorway from the stairwell. "Su'cuy ner vode."

"Very good, Prst'adika," Adin put his hands on his hips. "I need you and two of your troopers to stay here with the ammo."

"Isn't that why we've been asked to move?" Jannigo Prosstang, now a handsome young man, lifted his helmet from his belt and put it on.

"Jango's orders, ad'ika." The strong, self-assured younger Kabur reminded Ferrigo of Ijaat in that moment. Ferrigo wondered if he himself would raise warriors someday.

Jannigo began to retort, but Ferrigo cut him off. "Do as your commanding officer instructs, Ruus'alor Prosstang. Mand'alor Fett has his reasons. We follow orders."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to catch up to the supply convoy, Ori'al'verde," Adin Kabur shifted.

Ferrigo turned his head to regard Adin for a moment before he left. "Keep your head up, Kab'ika. See you tomorrow."

Kabur nodded and departed into the slightly lightened snowstorm.

Personal Matters
"Pardon us, Ruus'alor Prosstang," Ferrigo began and walked toward the stairwell. "Ver'alor Vu'udrel. A moment upstairs, please."

Vu'udrel followed and closed the door to the stairwell as Ferrigo requested. Once upstairs, Ferrigo turned to Verrol and leaned back on a table with his jetpack as his hands braced his weight.

"Relia," Ferrigo resumed his earlier line of questioning with a series of pantomimed hand gestures. "Why isn't she here? She's the best intel person we've got. We were getting our meals on the blade for two days because she's not here."

"Personal reasons, as I understand."

"She wouldn't have turned this job down, Verrol. You know it." Ferrigo was stern, pointing a finger toward the floor.

"Look, Ori'al'verde, I don't mean any disrespect to your rank, but I don't see how knowing about Relia Vu'udrel is going to help us now."

Ferrigo gazed at the Ver'alor. The orange-goldenrod triangle turned point down on the left side of his blood red chestplate. The helmet to match.

"What if I told you I think she's changed sides." Ferrigo's voice tensed as he played his gambit.

"What do you mean, sir? That doesn't-"

"Kyr'tsad, Ver'alor. She's working for Death Watch." Ferrigo said cooly.

"You'd better take that back, Velrrus. I don't care about your reputation. I'll take you down." Verrol Vu'udrel stiffened and clenched his fists.

"Who else would know so much about our movements, strategies and objectives than the person who is one of our chief strategists? And conveniently missing-" Ferrigo spread his hands slightly.

"She's on the outs with Tyro Kels'mek," Verrol grunted. "He beats her. He said he caught her in a lie about another guy. Said she finally came clean during a tihaar drink-up that she's holding a torch for a spoiled brat."

Ferrigo took a long slow breath and let it out as slowly. Wow.

Verrol Vu'udrel continued. "Kels'mek was grumbling about how he loved Ferrigo Prosstang like a little brother, but can't stand the guy anymore."

Having his answer, Ferrigo now attempted to shift the conversation. "I'd heard that Prosstang has a price on his head, and Death Watch is only here to make credits on collecting."

"Really?" Vu'udrel raised his gaze to the wooden ceiling rafters for a moment. "That's unlikely. Don't you have a price on your head? Haar'chak. Most of us have some price on our heads if we've got experience in tracking, right?"

"Can't argue with your logic, Ver'alor," Ferrigo nodded. "I hope for Prosstang's sake that he's gone into hiding."

Jannigo Prosstang called from downstairs. "Vode. Who is Ruus'alor of Beskar-T'adyc Hokaanir?"

Ver'alor Vu'udrel nodded to Ferrigo and departed downstairs. "My cousin Priim Vevut."

"He's missing in action." Jannigo's voice sounded apologetic. "Sounds like Myles' brother was killed too. Their sector might have sturdier forces than we've been facing tonight."

"Maybe." Verrol Vu'udrel's voice faded as he left.

Ferrigo heard the wooden stairs creak and groan under the weight of his ascending cousin. "I want you to know something, Velrrus," Jannigo Prosstang seethed. "Nobody in our clan short of Ferrigo Prosstang, my father Rappretto Prosstang, or the Clan Chieftain talks to me like that in front of anyone."

Ferrigo drew his hands to rest on his utility belt. "You follow the orders of your commanding officers, Ruus'alor. I don't care who you are at the Palace of Prosstang. Here, you are mine. As we are all Mand'alor Fett's. Do your job, and we all get paid handsomely."

"I'll note your insubordination to the Aliit'alor Prosstang when we get out of here," Jannigo raised a finger. "You think you're someone special, because you hunt criminals who aren't much worse than you-"

With blinding speed, Ferrigo slapped his right glove around Jannigo's throat and lifted him from the floor and slammed his back against the crumbling plaster of the wall to the right of the stair doorway. "Don't kriff with me boy. I've taken out security companies, on my own. I have a Jedi's head in a jar on my personal ship. Next to the head of one of our clan members who crossed me. I rescued your cousin from a Hutt prison almost four years ago. What have you done for Clan Prosstang lately, kid?"

Ferrigo let Jannigo down to his feet. Jannigo immediately swung his right gauntlet backward toward Ferrigo's helmet. Ferrigo quickly ducked to avoid a blow from his cousin and then jabbed Jannigo in his right side between armor plates with his left fist. The younger Prosstang fell to the floor, and his helmet fell off.

Jannigo looked at Ferrigo's right shin and the lifted his gaze.

"Don't even consider it, Jannigo. Try shaking a snake, and you will get bitten."

"Fierfek," Jannigo chuckled. "I was just kidding, Velrrus."

"That's Ori'al'verde Velrrus to you, Ruus'alor." Ferrigo said seriously as he offered his right hand and lifted Jannigo to his feet from the floor.

"My cousin calls you Snake," the younger Prosstang queried as he straightened out his gear. "Why?"

"Long story. Short version. Ladies like my serpent." Ferrigo tried to maintain his composure as Jannigo burst into laughter.

"What?" Ferrigo asked with feigned innocence. "I have a serpent that I keep at home."

"You're a strange fellow, Vel- Ori'al'verde Velrrus. Sir." Jannigo straightened his posture.

Ferrigo shook his helmet and regarded his cousin sidewise. "Whatever, mir'shebs. I need to get out in the field. Looks like Hokaanir is still in trouble. Is there any Prosstang Select ammo here? I need to top off. Both kinds of Taddie charges."

"Of course, Ori'al'verde," Jannigo followed Ferrigo downstairs. "Be sure to leave a tip."

"Know your place wherever you are." Ferrigo said calmly after picking up four charge cartridges for his Taddies and placing them in pouches. He also looked about the room and pocketed around ten charge cartridges compatible with most of the blasters used.

"What?" Jannigo asked, puzzled.

"You said I should be sure to leave a tip." Ferrigo said plainly as he rested his palm heels on his leather belt pouches.

"I was joking, Ori'al'verde."

"I know." Ferrigo turned and exited the Spotted Dragon cantina.

Tegaanalir te Hokan'yc (Rescuing the Heavily Defeated)
Ferrigo took to the air after refueling his jetpack, and scanned his HUD for friendly forces and threats, his right handed Taddie at the ready, holding the heel of the ion charge cartridge downbarrel in his left palm. In darkness under grey snow clouds, the thermal sensors picked up quite a bit of activity. The snowflakes were a minor distraction as Ferrigo paid more attention to his camera feeds.

"Hokaanir Command. Ruus Ori'al'verde. Patrolling Untedella District. Faubourg-"

A large explosion lifted Ferrigo slightly from his flight path. He rotated to face the rising fireball and saw the snowflakes turned to mist as the yellow, red and orange flame gave way to dark, billowing smoke.

The speaker squawked momentarily. The signal registered on the right side of his HUD as belonging to Verd'ika Diasa Bi'inta, a female of his clan serving in Beskar Squad-1st Platoon of Hokaanir Company. "Ruus Ori'al-ggggaahhgg!!" Static filled the line.

Ferrigo hovered in a slow circle and scanned his HUD feeds for information. The explosion site was less than fifty meters to his west. Several apartment buildings flamed with curls of dark smoke smoldering under the weight of a snowfall-driven breeze. Ferrigo saw the thermal signatures of nearly a dozen human figures rushing down the alley below. The heat from the blazing fire made distinction difficult. Prosstang sensed danger and floated back and away from the explosion site. A split count later, a volley of green hyphens of blaster energy zipped upward into the clouds where Ferrigo had been.

"Hokaanir kedin. Ni arani gar shebs," Ferrigo floated quickly sideways by blinking his eye toward a flight path diamond until he was nearly aligned with the alley to the side of the blaster fire sources. "Utreyar o'r rol'eta soletare." Ferrigo verified in his HUD that all weapon systems were operational. He swooped down and forward at speed, the snow whipped about him.

The rearguard of a ragtag bunch of civilians numbering fifteen holding blasters or staffs looked startled as Ferrigo unleashed a sweep of flame from left to right and back until he landed near the left side of the alley. The Mandalorian fired several explosive pellets from his left gauntlet and loosed half a dozen blaster bolts into the crowd ahead of him from his Taddie. The chain of small explosions and accurate blaster shots left only a few of the group on their feet trudging in the lower snow to the sides. The rest were silent or moaning in pain, the snow and off-white exterior walls were stained with blood.

Ferrigo lined up individual incapacitating shots for each of those who continued to move. Ferrigo then slid his Taddie back into its holster and withdrew his dark-saber. A few of the young wounded recoiled in terror as Prosstang activated the humming, whistling, and chittering black blade. The purple glowing energy zipped around and on the blade. The Mandalorian moved along the line of wounded, dead and dying, and asked each but one question. "Anything to say in defense of your life?"

For those who said nothing or something inflammatory, Ferrigo cut their necks swiftly with twisting flicks of his right wrist. The last survivor rasped. "Why?"

"Because I get paid to defend the freedom of your people." Ferrigo said, his blade near the face of the young woman he stood over.

"We are the people!" she cried. "The Governor has had people like you running wild on this planet for three months now." She coughed. "We only defend ourselves against you. At no cost."

"Take me to the leader of your student movement." Ferrigo held the blade closer to her.

"Student movement?" the young woman seemed incredulous, then murmured. "This was it, if there ever was."

"You wanted to attack the Governor of Galidraan. Correct?"

"Yes," she blurted. "He's letting you and these aggressive warriors kill us."

"You are a traitor to your people, dala. Along with the rogue militia units, you are all guilty of sedition and terrorism."

"Open your eyes, warrior. Look around you. We don't have anything to do with those militia, but there are a few girls on campus who-"

Her voice was silenced as the plume of a dart appeared at the side of her throat. She gasped and her eyes bulged in terror as she grasped for Ferrigo.

"You're welcome, Ori'al'verde," a tall, thin Mandorian male approached from his right. "A danger to our security."

"What's your rank and name, verd?"

"Ruus'alor Rhege Buniin."

Ferrigo shifted in the snow and gazed down at the now-dead woman at his feet. His helmet turned slowly to regard Buniin, though his HUD processed data for the last five counts. "Where've you been, Buniin?"

The Mandalorian did not respond for five counts.

"How are Vevut and Lorsht?" Ferrigo gazed into the visor of his fellow Mandalorian.

Another five counts passed until a response was given. "Nothing to worry you about, Ori'al'verde." Rhege Buniin raised his right gloved hand to touch his rising left gauntlet.

With a burst of speed in a rightward spin on the balls of his boots, the whistle of Ferrigo's dark-saber became a sputtering hissing zing crackling through the snowfall, barely making a click noise as it met resistance above Buniin's shoulder plate. Ferrigo gritted his teeth slightly as he watched the steaming trunk of Buniin's neck and helmet lead the rest of his slackened, armored body into the snow. I will save your head for The Serpent's Pride, osik'la di'kut.

As he bent over to pick up Buniin's steaming helmet, a voice crackled into his receivers. "Ori'al'verde Velrrus, we need you at the university campus. We're pinned down." Ferrigo checked his HUD for identification.

"Ver'alor Ordo," Ferrigo took a deep breath and stood up with his left hand empty. "I'll be there shortly. Is Mirev nearby?"

"They should be, but I think they're pinned down too." Aloquar Ordo was a good, young soldier. And a natural leader. "Can you bring some heavy duty gear? Rockets? Chain-gun?"

Ferrigo deactivated and holstered his dark-saber over his right shoulder, then waved a few of the wounded soldiers from Hokaanir Company past who appeared from nearby doorways. He clucked his tongue and said aloud. "Head toward the Citadel of Burg Kiesl." Prosstang adjusted his channel again quickly to the private channel with Ordo. "I'll see what I can do, Ver'alor. I can get there sooner without. Your choice, ner vod."

"Okay," Aloquar Ordo sighed over the comm. "Just get here as soon as you can."

Ferrigo knelt and rummaged through the flight suit pockets and pouches of Rhege Buniin's armored, twitching body. ''Clan Vizsla? What were you trying to silence her from saying, kid? ''He removed the left shoulder plate from Buniin's armor and tucked it into his pant pocket. Once satisfied that he had been thorough, Ferrigo stood again.

After a brief crouch, Ferrigo was lifted from the ground rapidly by the thrust of his jetpack to a height well above the snow-covered roofs. "Veeray." He muttered and blinked his right eye. A series of large packets of green energy zipped across his path toward the campus as shown in his HUD. The large bolts originated in a highlighted area that seemed to be tinted orange-red. The campus beyond was depicted as red, and his lowest calculated-risk path blinked yellow, instead of green.

The Mando'a text that scrolled down the left side of HUD suggested that reports of student insurgent activity was escalating with an infusion of fresh militia troops defected earlier in the day from a region to the south. Jango's Legacy were losing air support shuttles to ground-to-air rockets and whole squads were lost in fierce street block fighting. Door-to-door. Ferrigo surged forward toward the aligned yellow guide and drew his right Taddie blaster and cradled it with his left glove as his speed increased. "Heavy artillery. Who's got our intel?"

Ferrigo swung his body downward to the left and curled back upward to the right, seeming to corkscrew his way forward. Several large pulses of green light flashed past his legs as he continued to his destination. He felt the heat momentarily but continued without damage. Crossing over a river with a bridge located at some distance to the east, Ferrigo approached a compound of three-story ceramiblock and glass buildings lit by luminescent area lamps that reflected glare from the freshly-fallen snow. Prosstang brandished his right Taddie and prepared to land after he scanned his HUD for threats. He could see and hear blaster fire of yellow, green and red flying about in the compound more than one hundred-fifty paces away to the east and southeast. Maybe as many as forty to seventy enemies. He lowered to within ten meters above the snow. Turn around!

With a blur of motion, Ferrigo spun in the air to face north with his arms outstretched and pulsed his left fist in an arc as he fired explosive pellets toward the trees near the riverbank and fired blaster bolts with his Taddie. Four of many blaster bolts from the hidden attackers in the trees and shrubs found Ferrigo's beskar abdominal piece and groin-piece. Shrill screams sounded as crackling explosions of smoke and tiny, searing fragments tore into the shaken foliage from the dozen pellets fired by the Mandalorian. Ferrigo drew his left Taddie and turned each direction to fire both of his pistols rapidly at the moving targets below him.

The Mandalorian grunted and lowered himself toward the ground, firing more blaster rounds toward the shapes of thermal warmth among the trees and shrubs until his boots crushed the snow that had not melted beneath them. He cut the jetpack engine and turned to gaze at the buildings after another thermal scan review of the holes in the snow and the foliage along the riverbank indicated all of his targets were cooling.

No Farewell
Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "Mand'alor?" He clucked his tongue again and squinted his right eye several times. "Ver'alor Ordo. Respond."

"Elek, Ori'al'verde Velrrus. We are still pinned down by small arms fire at our position," Aloquar Ordo gasped. "Ten, maybe fifteen di'kute."

"Casualties?" Ferrigo began to lift his boots and move his way toward the nearest building. There appeared to be a dark alcove occupied by a mound of angled pieces of furniture. He scanned on thermal and saw two forms huddled at the base of the pile.

"Ber'zhan Kabur and Beskar Squad just joined their ancestors in the manda," the lieutenant lamented. "I think they took out a good number of enemies, but it's hard to say. We haven't been able to get a good look."

"Ver'alor, I found a pocket of insurgents to your three along the riverbank and taken them out. Numbering nine." Ferrigo took a deep breath and continued. "I see two figures huddled in one of the entry alcoves of the building farthest to your three in this complex. I am going to get a look. Don't shoot unless you see them. I have some charges for your troopers, but you'll have to hang on."

"Be careful, sir."

"Got it, Ver'alor."

Ferrigo saw that both figures were generating warmth. He pulled out both of his Taddie blasters. One of the figures stood up. Ferrigo changed his scan settings and the standing armored humanoid form pinged with a green halo. Ori'al'verde Ijaat Kabur. Prosstang clucked his tongue. "Ijaat. Schingo Velrrus on your one."

"Snake."

Ferrigo hastened his pace toward Ijaat Kabur and the other trooper until the seated figure slumped against the pile of broken furniture pinged with a green halo. Al'verde Tyro Kels'mek. "Al'verde Kels'mek. Schingo Velrrus on your twelve."

Tyro was somehow smaller, though completely outfitted in his gear. Ferrigo could see a pool of blood in the snow. Two pools.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "You're wounded. What happened here?"

Ijaat Kabur turned his helmet slightly toward Ferrigo until the glint of the area lamp reflected in his visor. "Tyro and his First Platoon were downed as they responded to support the taking of the university campus. Every transport that brought them across the river got hit. His twice."

"Rockets?"

"Yep." Ijaat looked down at Tyro and then knelt beside him. "Tyro's pretty bad. I got emergency bacta patches on and got his armor back into place. Shrapnel deep into his left shoulder."

Kels'mek gasped and took off his helmet and tossed it aside into the snow, revealing a face darkened by pain and worry lines. The large man's face gleamed with sweat. "They knew we were coming. No way a bunch of school kids gonna have anti-air rockets. Not even the local or regional militia. Their stuff is the same or better than ours." Shots sounded out in the background. Tyro winced.

Ijaat stood again and took a few steps toward the wall and leaned against it. "Tyro and I cleared this building with the remnants of his Atin and Beskar squads. They got him some more, and me a little," Kabur held up his bandaged left glove. "But they got all our men here. I'm not going to leave Tyro behind. We need to get him back to the Citadel."

"They're moving all command and logistics to the old gravel quarry outside of town to the east." Ferrigo said somewhat derisively.

"Leave me." Tyro said, with a few coughs. "Too old, too heavy, too much blood loss."

"Not going to happen, Al'verde Kels'mek," Ferrigo turned to Ijaat Kabur. "We need to get Ver'alor Ordo's squad out of a jam next door, Kabur. They can then help us move Kels'mek."

"I'm on it." Kabur trudged in the snow until he was clear from the building overhang, then launched into the air as his jetpack engaged.

Ferrigo gazed into the snowfall, vapor trails and the twin cones of flame from Kabur's jetpack as he ascended into the haze.

Kels'mek groaned. "Take off your helmet, Snake."

"What?" Ferrigo responded with surprise.

"I want you to hear what I have to say," a burp of blood poured from the left corner of Tyro's mouth as he coughed and tears formed in the large, slumped man's once steely eyes.

"I don't take off my helmet. For anyone, Kels'mek."

"For me...Pross...take it off." Kels'mek rested his head against a tabletop that laid on its side and gazed directly into Ferrigo's visor.

Slowly, Ferrigo removed his helmet with both hands before holding it with his left hand against his hip. He breathed heavily, the steam rising into the cold night air and began to sob quietly, and sniffed. "Tyro. You're gonna be fine. How did you know?"

Kels'mek smiled. "Almost the worst-kept secret among vode."

Ferrigo forced a smile as he tried to hold back tears at seeing his one-time best friend and mentor bleed. And shed tears. "I had to die once, Bam-Bam."

Kels'mek drew a blaster pistol with his right hand and pointed it with a steep angle at Ferrigo's head. "Maybe twice, Pross."

"Tyro. What are you doing?"

"You stole my woman's heart, Pross. Ruined our lives," Tyro gasped and coughed up blood on his lips and glared at Ferrigo. "She dreams of a life a phantom can give her. Not me. I found out that it was you. Had....a holoprojection of it...saw it all...what you both did...and said."

Ferrigo gasped and shook his head slowly. "Tyro, I didn't know. I never-."

Tyro smiled weakly and gently shook the pistol toward Ferrigo. "I heard that. In the recording. Very sweet," his mouth and teeth covered with blood, Kels'mek grinned bitterly. "But you will have this on your hands, kid." With a quick motion, Tyro Kels'mek turned the blaster upward to his own chin and pulled the trigger. The gore instantly covered the furniture and poured onto Kels'mek's armor plates as what was left of his blood-covered face and head smoked and steamed.

Ferrigo screamed and sobbed as it happened, his shuffle toward his friend much too late. "NOOOOO!!!"

Kels'mek's corpse twitched violently and Ferrigo let out another cry of obscenities before he put his own helmet back on with his teeth gritted. The sound of blaster fire continued to fill the background as Ordo's platoon remnants responded to the insurgents.

"HAAR'CHAK!!" Ferrigo yelled into his helmet as his tears flowed. "Usen'ye!!" Prosstang stepped over to Kels'mek and removed his bloody beskar shoulder plates, wiping them in the pristine snow a few meters away before tucking them into his pants cargo pockets. He gazed at Tyro for ten counts and shook his head through streams of tears. ''Relia. Voodoo. What have we done?''

-''Let him go. He has chosen his path''.-

Ferrigo sucked in some air and shuddered for a moment before he removed his Taddie blasters from their holsters. Inside of thirty counts, he joined Ordo and Kabur, and over the next ten minutes fought off the insurgents with aerial supremacy tactics. Within a few hours, the most of the insurgents that had been active in the Faubourg Bergkratz were dead or wounded and captive. The Faubourg was cleared.

Brief Memorial For The Fallen
Back at camp, Ferrigo refilled his jetpack fuel canisters. The pallets of fuel were nearly depleted. Jango Fett had brought the remaining commanders together into his large tent earlier that morning. Ferrigo and a few of the others had gotten a few hours sleep in their tents. He kept his helmet on unless he was behind his veshok panel in the tent he shared with the cousins, Verd'ika Qarn Kroyus and Alor'ad Phark Rekkurt, both men from Clan Kabur.

"Al'verdiise. We're almost done," Jango paced slowly in the tent. "I've seen you fight out there. We've had some rough spots, lost some good troopers. Our shuttles are out of commission. But we are at the most another day from breaking the resistance. Your valor has been most impressive. Your clans may all be proud of you. You've served me well."

"Vore, Mand'alor." The commanders and Ferrigo said, their voices tired.

Ijaat Kabur sighed and tugged at his long beard, gripped it with his left gloved fist and curled it. He removed a few elastic bands from one of his pouches and tied his beard into two long tails as the briefing continued. Ferrigo could see Kabur's eyes moistened, and occasionally the elder Mandalorian held his gaze at Ferrigo.

Jango walked toward Ijaat and placed his hand on the large man's left shoulder plate. "Ka'buir. Gar'ad Dinkii. Kaysh ti manda ner vod. Ti ashi, nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

Ferrigo turned to look at the marker of the recently buried Adin Kabur. He had died defending the camp as it was being set up shortly after he left the Citadel. Attacked by unseen insurgents. Kab'ika.

Fett turned around. "We will all walk out of here, ner vode. How we do that will be remembered for eternity."

Visions or Choices - The Morning of Fates
Ferrigo would sleep again uneasily after the briefing for another hour. He woke at dawn exhausted. As he sipped a duraplast cup full of caf, with his helmet tilted upward above his forehead, he pondered two images from his dreams. Both lasted with him through the morning in flashes.

In the first, the black-haired tiny form of Alor'akada Neviik seemed to be running. Explosions around her. Her clothing was civilian in his dream, the same clothing he had assigned her to wear. Tattered and covered with soot. She screamed his name as she was hit by an explosion. Ferrigo!

In the second, the divine blonde haired green-eyed beauty of past visions had seemingly walked toward him in the nude, barely covered by a mostly transparent shimmersilk robe. She smiled at him warmly, and with hunger in her eyes. ''Mine. Mine alone. Mandalore.''

Ferrigo shook his head and settled his helmet fully over his face and activated the seals. He wasn't sure whether or not to smile at the thought of the Manda. The pain of Tyro's parting words haunted him. Adin Kabur's death. Rhege Buniin's treachery in silencing the insurgent girl who seemed to have the key to the mystery behind the enemies they faced. The valor of so many of his comrades extinguished with their deaths. So many Mandalorian dead. Mij Gilamar, the doctor, and his wife Tani, a recently promoted Ver'alor under Myles, were doing all they could to manage the medical triage at the new camp.

"Ori'al'verde Velrrus?" the doctor looked at Ferrigo for a moment as he stitched an open leg wound.

"Yes, Ver'alor Gilamar?"

"He's now Al'verde Gilamar," the doctor's wife corrected Ferrigo with a hint of playfulness.

"Now, Ver'alor Tani, would you please check on our bacta supplies?" Mij Gilamar seemed strained but managed to keep his humor in the cold morning air. Tani Gilamar wandered to the opened pallets of supplies along a walkway consisting of broken-down crate panels. "Velrrus, I am going to need more supplies. And we don't have enough space to hold triage here. Can't you tell Fett that we need to get this operation back into the Citadel?"

"I can't disagree with your sentiments, Doc. I'll see if I can move our Mand'alor on this. The Governor is being a di'kut. Something about the locals being afraid of having us in their cantinas and curio shops."

"Good luck, Velrrus." Gilamar sighed.

Ferrigo turned toward Jango's tent, just as Fett emerged from it wearing his full gear with red highlights around his visor and red shoulder plates re-touched. Fett approached. "No. Camp is here. We have targets to hit and objectives to protect. Let's go." As Prosstang began to follow, Fett called over his shoulder as they proceeded. "You'll make do here, Ver'alor Gilamar."

"That's Al'verde, sir."

Fett turned to Ferrigo as they trudged in the broken snow up the side of the quarry. "That guy gets on my nerves."

"Does he need better surgical equipment to avoid hitting those?" Ferrigo asked tongue-in-cheek.

"Pross, I'll bury you in the snow until you can't see white."

"You might try Mand'alor. But we need to keep focused, remember?" Ferrigo slowed as Jango stopped half-way down the slope.

"Don't push me." Fett grumbled.

"Lighten up. We got hit hard last night. I watched Tyro Kels'mek pop his own top. As he looked into my eyes." Ferrigo gritted.

Fett took a deep breath. "I need you to bring in the little spy girl. Lost contact with her yesterday late afternoon. As the snow started falling hard again."

"Any idea of where she might be?" Ferrigo looked across the tree-lined river to the university campus and town buildings around it.

"Somewhere over there." Jango pointed in the direction of the university. "She's become a liability. Certainly not Voodoo's equal."

Ferrigo pondered the reasons Relia might not have taken the Galidraan assignment. He felt a pang of guilt. "I'll gather a small team, Daav Kuporr and Verrol Vu'udrel, and go find her."

"No. Just you," Jango retorted.

"I'll need backup, Jango." Ferrigo gestured his hand across the river. "I'll take the Clan Kabur guys from my tent."

"You are the best tracker and hunter I have. Aside from myself. Haven't you taken out companies of ganks and thugs on your own?"

"Okay, fine. I'll head out after getting topped off with ammo," Ferrigo turned to Jango for a moment.

"I have to keep everyone on task today. And I need every hand I can keep," Jango regarded Ferrigo. "No slips."

Ferrigo watched a number of troopers pass on their way into the Faubourg Bergkratz to get to the bridge across the river. Some had heavy weapons slung over their shoulders and wore bandoliers of ammunition. Shots zipped from the university side of the bridge. Ferrigo zoomed his HUD focus toward the point of origin. He could not get a clear image.

"I'm heading out, Mand'alor. I'll be back." Ferrigo moved away from Jango and his jetpack erupted and lifted him high into the air and forward toward the river and university beyond.

Blaster bolt arrays shifted to focus on Ferrigo as he lowered and sped across the open ground between the riverbank trees and campus administration buildings. Ferrigo checked his HUD frequently, but focused on what he saw through his visor. He saw a militiaman turn toward him with his rifle slung low. As his HUD pinged with a red halo around the man and a green target indicator beeped, Ferrigo pointed his right index and middle fingers toward the rebel and squeezed his other fingers against his palm. Two hyphens of yellow energy slammed the man from his feet into the now bloody snow behind him.

Ferrigo dodged left and right to avoid a rake of blue blaster fire from a team of riflemen. Prosstang squeezed his left ring and small fingers into his palm as he pointed his index and middle fingers toward an interior climate-conditioning unit that was surrounded by an enemy fire team. Blaster bolts continued to zip in his direction as one of his micro-missiles fired against the pop-up durasteel flap at the back of his gauntlet to propel it toward the target. Ferrigo continued in a rightward arc away from the fire team. He saw their explosive destruction in a rearward camera feed that tracked the target in his HUD. Prosstang jolted slightly from the loud concussion wave, but continued to scan for his package -- Alor'akada Neviik.

A Feisty Little Package
"Neviik. If you can hear this, now is the time for extraction. Time to activate your tracker." Ferrigo rolled slightly side to side as he scanned in flight.

"I don't know who this is," a small female voice registered. "But I'm not going to be tracked. Too many enemies around."

"Do as you're told verd'ika," Ferrigo growled. "Where are you at?"

Ferrigo flew a few meters above the roofs of ancient earth and timber buildings, following his HUD's area-assessment view toward an open plaza framed by columnar building forms, some topped by pointed steeples. She's near.

"I'm near a large plaza. Plenty of religious temples around. And cantinas." The woman's voice was young and slightly frightened.

Ferrigo emerged above the southeast edge of buildings to view the plaza. Bodies were strewn about the full scene. Some of the buildings smoldered with dark smoke pouring from their windows, doors or holes in the roofs. He looked below and saw a tiny woman running in the snow from the steps of a temple, her red sweater flapped openly as her tattered, dark grey skirt barely cleared the snow. She wailed and suddenly, as Ferrigo began his descent with speed, a cracking boom of balled flame, duracrete and ceramic brick flew into the air behind the young woman. Ferrigo tackled her onto her side, and protected her fall in his arms.

The girl screamed at him. "You son of a striil!!"

Ferrigo rolled over slightly to cover her as pieces of the building continued to fall on them.

"Get off me!!"

"Shut it dala!" Ferrigo rolled off of her and stood up, picking her up to her feet as he did. He looked back at the destroyed building face for a moment before regarding Alor'akada Neviik. Her clothing soot-covered and tattered. "Rough time at school, kid? I didn't think Jango hired children."

"Kriff you, di'kut." Alor'akada reminded him of Relia Kels'mek at that moment in her younger attitude, physical shape, and small stature.

"We need to get you out of here," Ferrigo said as he tried to restrain himself from smiling. "You're getting an evac outta here, kid."

"Call me kid again, and I crush your gettse. Tayli'bac?" Neviik growled wearily and sighed. "Got a plan?"

"Just be quiet, cyar'ika." Ferrigo easily picked her up from the snow and squeezed her tight against the left side of his armored chest. They both lifted from the snow and into the air as his jetpack fired and thrusted powerfully.

Ferrigo flew over the Citadel and kept a firm hold on his small passenger. She held her face firmly against his chestplate and wrapped her small arms tightly around him, avoiding the jetpack by holding his left shoulder. He was able to contact Ver'alor Yae'garr Hanrikke from Abiik Ke'biingalaar on the shuttle unit channel. "Need secluded evac to orbit for special asset."

"Where are you taking me?!" Neviik yelled as the morning fog wrapped around them. They were well beyond towns and villages, and only saw a few farmsteads.

"You're getting a ride home," Ferrigo paused. "Neviik."

"You're so very big. And strong." The little woman yelled as she clinged to him as if for dear life.

Ferrigo saw a Meteor Q-class shuttle as it turned its starboard side to face them as it set its powerspring-loaded wide struts on the snow. He lowered his feet and quickly twisted and lifted Alor'akada Neviik's legs to cradle her tightly against his armor. With a slow chuff of snow under his heavy boots, he set the tiny woman down on her feet.

She turned to face Ferrigo, looking up at him from just under the top of his chest. "Who are you? Take your helmet off, ner vod. I wanna see your face." She caressed his armor with her bare hands.

"I'm Ori'al'verde Redar Velrrus. I take off my helmet for no one." Ferrigo said plainly as he shook his helmet and crossed his right gauntlet above his left.

"No one?" Alor'akada slowly batted her eyelashes at Ferrigo's visor. "You have Clan Prosstang markings. I am Clan Prosstang. Good friends with the son of the Aliit'alor, by the way. I think he has a crush on me."

"I've heard that guy is already spoken for." Ferrigo said as plainly as he could. "Some woman from the Nite Owls."

"Vu'udrel?" Alor'akada said dismissively.

"No," Ferrigo tried not to smile, but he wanted a reaction. "Dehet. Gherda, or something."

Alor'akada laughed out loud and covered her mouth with her right hand. "She might want him. Maybe Vu'udrel does too. But he's going to be mine, Velrrus."

Ferrigo shifted slightly. "He might have something to say about that, kid. You should be talking to him."

Neviik’s smile turned quickly into a growl, as she turned and began to walk to the opened shuttle ramp. "I can have anyone I want. And I want him. Mark my words. I will be your Clan Chieftain's wife."

Ferrigo stirred uncomfortably, but aimed for another smile. "You talking about Q'osstigo or Ferrigo Prosstang, young lady?"

"I'm tired. This snow is too high. Please take me to the shuttle." Alor'akada Neviik seemed exhausted, but Ferrigo assumed she had a ploy in mind.

Ferrigo picked her up easily into his arms. She looked up at him. "I should insist you take off your helmet. I want to thank you personally for saving me."

"Not necessary, Neviik. Just doing my job," Ferrigo inhaled. "Which I have to get back to."

As they neared the toe of the ramp, Alor'akada Neviik gritted and used both of her hands to pull upward on Ferrigo's helmet on either side of his visor. The seals held it in place firmly, and Ferrigo dropped her immediately into the snow. She growled at him and swiftly moved onto the ramp, kicking the snow from her feet.

Ferrigo pointed toward her feet. "You don't want to mess with me, ad'ika."

"When Ferrigo Prosstang is my husband, you will know who holds the power." The tiny woman scowled at him.

"You're welcome for the saving your day, Neviik." Ferrigo said, practically to himself.

The shuttle lifted as its engines roared and whined, and the ramp closed. Ferrigo turned his back to the departing shuttle and checked his HUD for updates on the action near Burg Kiesl. Ferrigo considered Neviik. ''I am attracted to her. She's young, tiny and fierce. Beautiful. Could I tame her?''

-Is that what you want?-

Ferrigo looked around the trees that enclosed the open field that beside the shuttle landing marks was otherwise pristine with snow cover. "Isn't she the likeness of mando'karla? Our children would protect Mandalore. She would challenge me. Make me better. A stronger warrior."

Ferrigo thought he heard a response, but it was muffled noise. In his mind, or the sound of wind in the tree branches. He looked around for a few minutes and sat down in the snow and quieted his mind for several minutes. After the winds died down, Prosstang got to his knees and bowed before he stood slowly. Klsvrrrngg, thank you.

Return to Camp - Tensions Rising
Ferrigo looked to the grey sky, which had begun to release snow. With a command, Ferrigo's jetpack lifted him into the air and he then angled his body forward. He crossed the river and over the forest to the north and east of the towering Burg Kiesl. He landed in the snow near the makeshift campsite at the abandoned quarry and walked along a worn, snow-covered cartage path.

His thoughts touched on the arrival of their forces two days prior as he gazed upon the south face of the stone castle bathed in the rays of the primary star. ''We've given so much blood. ''An image of Qui-Gon Jinn flashed in his mind. An elder. Ferrigo had a sense of foreboding. He shook his helmet and approached the rim of the camp and looked around him.

Ferrigo grew concerned. Al'verde Mij Gilamar was gone. So too were the medical supply pallets. The approaching clatter of metallic pieces of armor and equipment comforted Prosstang, for he saw nobody in the camp. He activated his thermal mode and spotted two warm forms in his HUD, near the center of camp. He clucked his tongue as he saw Jango Fett lead a group of commanders and troopers over the rim into the camp. "Mand'alor. Ori'al'verde Velrrus reporting for duty. Returned from evac mission. Little package on its way."

"You missed the hot and heavy action." Fett said as Ferrigo neared the group of troopers. "We are done here. Now it's just a walk through the park to collect payment."

"Sounds good to me," Ferrigo sighed.

"We're down to just over one hundred-sixty verde." Fett took off his helmet and continued into his tent. "Snake, Ij'ika, Silas. Myles. In here. Now." The commanders followed their Mand'alor. All but Ferrigo removed their helmets.

Silas remarked. "Velrrus, remove your buy'ce."

Ferrigo remained silent as he shook his helmet side to side and rested his palms on his tanned roba pouches. As Silas shook his head in return, Ferrigo tilted his helmet quickly three times toward the tent entrance and turned his palms upward and shifted both hands toward the tent entrance.

Fett grabbed Ferrigo. "Just take it off."

Ferrigo slid his helmet off and hooked it to the left side of his utility belt.

"Thought so." Silas and Myles said in unison.

"Your little climber girlfriend is gone, Silas," Ferrigo tilted his head and grinned. "But she gave me a dance before she left."

"Fierfek gar shebs, Pross." Silas seethed.

"Just saying, Silas. You did an osik'la job covering Senaar's six," Ferrigo continued. "Almost seemed like you and the dal'ika were working for the other team."

"I'd break you, Pross. Or Velrrus. Or whoever you need to be. Coward." Silas fumed and raised his hands slightly.

"I didn't call in the Death Watch to search for Ferrigo Prosstang near Beierdopp on Day One, Silas." Ferrigo jabbed his index finger in the air toward the thin, black-haired Mandalorian. "Someone in your command did, hutuun'ika." Prosstang then held up both of his gloved hands and motioned Silas toward him from across the table at the center of the tent.

"Shut it! Both of you! Shut it!" Jango Fett yelled, making his headbrace microphone jiggle. "You two can take this up after we collect. One more word about this before then, and I crack both of your skulls together. Tayli'bac?"

"Yes, Mand'alor." Ferrigo and Silas said in unison.

The Unaccounted Costs of War
An hour later, Fett gathered a detachment including Ferrigo, Jannigo, Ijaat Kabur, Silas, Yomaget Tre'vhek and Ferrigo's female cousin Faaks 'Crack-Shot' Ordo. They all filled their ammunition and jetpacks. The detachment made their way on foot through the Faubourg Bergkratz to the Citadel and Burg Kiesl to collect payment. Ori'al'verde Myles Lorsht and the rest of Fett's soldiers were split among the camp - and some stayed near the university to patrol where the rebels had concentrated the remainder of their forces before the end.

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! Velrrus! These are victims of wrist-blasters and wrist-torches!" Faaks 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. "And we were here not more than an hour ago."

"Haar'chak! Women...children!" Ferrigo heard Ijaat Kabur stammer.

Jannigo's voice cut through the chatter on the channel. “Iba’rang!!”

"Hold it together, Prosstang." Ferrigo said sharply.

During this exchange the group continued cautiously toward the Citadel. The bodies in the snow led to the Citadel gate, which was open.

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. "Velrrus! What are you talking about?!"

“This is his handiwork.” Ferrigo said certainly. "You need to calm down, Silas."

Fett affirmed Ferrigo's assessment. "Snake is right. None of Jaster's men. None of my men. Except maybe Montross...would do this. Check your HUDs for electronic devices."

Ferrigo barely registered what was being said. A feeling a dread prevailed itself upon him.

“ORI’HAAR’CHAAK!!” Jannigo yelled and staggered onward through the open portcullis to the Governor's castle past a dozen bodies of beheaded civilian women.

Collecting At Burg Kiesl -- A Treachery Exposed or Confirmed
"Snake, Crack-Shot, let's go," Jango said firmly, snapping Ferrigo from his brief lapse. "Silas, Ijaat, Yom, Prst'adika stay here and establish a link to the drop ship. We need to be prepared to bug out."

After passing through the Citadel village at the base of the escarpment the Burg Kiesl was located on, Ferrigo, Jango and Faaks 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 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 Faaks 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!"

Ferrigo pointed at the sniveling man before them. "Your innocent people's blood are on his hands, Governor."

Jango spoke evenly. "He left Galidraan? That's not the right answer. We will not leave until we are paid in full. I killed your enemies. And you tell me where to find mine."

A figure in jet-black Mandalorian armor, followed by at least ten other figures wearing similarly colored armor emerged from a tall curtain on the other side of the hall. "Then you will never leave here!" The helmetless and scarred Tor Vizsla yelled as he and his troops opened fire.

Blaster fire lit the room to a near unbearable brightness. The sound, smoke, odor and flame of jetpacks igniting and flaring also filled out the scene. Crack-Shot Ordo and Ferrigo wore pure beskar'gam armor that deflected several shots into their surroundings. The heat of the flames practically made the great hall an oven.

Ferrigo's Taddies emptied as he spun, lifted and dodged around the great hall. His well-placed shots found under-protected collars, visors and necks, and he killed five Death Watch soldiers in the first ten seconds of the fight. Crack-Shot hit two Death Watch soldiers squarely in their visors with her own Taddies, sending them onto their backs. She then finished them up close.

-Gar kad.-

Ferrigo quickly spun his left blaster into its holster and dropped his right Taddie down on the stone floor and pulled his dark-saber from its holster over his right shoulder and activated it in one motion. No sooner had the blade flashed and whistled into existence that it was met with a fierce overhand swing from the white-glowing blade of Galaar. The long blonde hair of the young Death Watch warrior spun from the rear of his helmet as he attacked Ferrigo again and again, each time perfectly countered by Prosstang's purple-glowing dark saber. The two young armored Mandalorian men grunted and cursed through their fierce combat.

Crack-Shot leveled her blaster at Galaar and was suddenly tackled with a loud clatter of armored plates by the hulking Marev.

"No way, lassie!" the large Death Watch lieutenant held Faaks Ordo down on the floor as the Governor exited the room.

Galaar and Ferrigo athletically danced, leapt and swung their whirring and sizzling blades at each other with great speed and strength. The chirps and squeaks of their clashings were loud enough to hear above the nearby blaster firefights. Their blades locked side by side several times, and each Mandalorian punished the other during these lockups with a kov'nyn, elbow or gloved fist blow.

Jango elbowed Tor Vizsla in the chin, and the Death Watch leader's wild black hair flew over the burn-damaged bald spot on his scalp. Vizsla grabbed Jango's jetpack and pushed him downward into his uprising knee. Jango gasped as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Vizsla's lip dropped blood onto the floor.

Faaks repeatedly elbowed her larger opponent, Marev, until she was able to rise to her knees. Ordo then stood and shuffled away from the large brute. With her left blaster, Faaks pointed at Marev's thick head. Galaar and Tor Vizsla both kicked the female Mandalorian's helmet visor at the same time and her blaster shot hit the curtain high above Marev's head as Ordo's feet left the stone floor. The crush of metal on the stone from Faaks Ordo's jetpack preceded a loud, screaming whistle.

All of the combatants who could hear yelled. "OSIK!!!"

With a rush of sound and smoke, the missile from Faaks Ordo's jetpack fired into the thick stone wall behind the large tapestry that hung from the ceiling. The explosion sent everyone prone onto the floor. The Governor could be heard screaming -- not in pain; but fury.

As quickly as they could, the Mandalorians and their Death Watch opponents stood with weapons in hand. Ferrigo and Galaar exchanged blaster fire and their bodies jerked as the yellow blasts hit each warrior solidly in the torso. The two ran toward each other yelling. Galaar's blade was in his left hand, his right hand poised to fire more blaster rounds. At the same time, Ferrigo squeezed his right fist around his dark-saber after calling for flame. Ferrigo was hit hard in the chest by Galaar's blaster rounds, but the Death Watch soldier was now bathed in fire.

Jango Fett punched Tor Vizsla square in his long-ago handsome face, sending the tall, scarred man into the wall near the windows. Vizsla fired a pair of razor discs at Jango, but Fett ducked and spun away from the attack as the discs lodged into a cabinet for diningware.

Crack-Shot took two hard crush-gaunt punches from Marev to her solar plexus and grunted in pain as she was lifted from the floor. Marev controlled their battle, and Faaks Ordo's comrades saw her need. Jango fired a saber dart from his armored knee-cap launcher into the neck of the large man. Ferrigo rushed in and whipped his blade upward into the slack right glove of Marev and removed several fingers and metacarpals. The big man screamed in horrific pain.

Ferrigo acrobatically spun back to face Galaar and bounded toward him into a downward chop. "Getting hot in there?" Prosstang yelled. The flame and curling smoke of his armor notwithstanding, Galaar's blade blocked Ferrigo's attack, and the Death Watchman punched Ferrigo's side. Prosstang grunted in pain and gasped as he spun and swiped his blade across a perfect horizontal arc. Galaar's advance was slowed as he shrieked in pain, the heels of both of his gloves cut open.

Tor Vizsla turned to face Faaks Ordo with a backhand of his right gauntlet against Ordo's helmet. She crashed quickly into the wall and rebounded to receive a leg sweep from Vizsla, who had dropped quickly to the floor. Crack-Shot Ordo crashed onto the floor with her full weight.

Ferrigo pointed to Tor Vizsla with his right hand and his gauntlet fired three bursts of yellow light energy. One of those hit the Death Watch leader solidly in the left arm, causing the beastly man to yell. Vizsla's return shot hit Ferrigo in the left shoulder, and Prosstang lowered and turned slightly left to release a stream of liquid flame.

"Hey!" Faaks Ordo yelled.

Jango Fett yelled. "Snake! Faaks! We have to get back to Silas, Myles and the others!! There's no reception on the comm!" Within moments, Jango Fett activated his jetpack and crashed through a window of the great hall after firing a few blaster rounds at it.

Ferrigo ran to another window and grabbed Faaks Ordo before he activated his jetpack and broke the thin, ornamental glass into countless shards sprinkling among the falling snow that he rushed through.

Ferrigo heard the 'foom-and-crack-rumble-and-sizzle' of an explosion from the inside of Burg Kiesl. He hoped that the others made it out safely. The weight of Faaks Ordo led to a downward trajectory along a cleared path among trees.

Legends Born of Death - The Jedi Order Joins the Battle
"Crack-shot, gotta set you down. Make it to camp as soon as you can." Ferrigo lowered to drop his cousin into the cin vhetin. The pure snow. Ordo rolled a few times in the deep snow before Ferrigo lost sight of her without a quick check of his HUD rear cam. She'll be okay.

Faaks Ordo shouted, causing some static on the channel. "LOOK!! Corellian Consular Cruisers!!"

The low, undulating grumble of five ships' engines filled the thin air of the winter's afternoon.

"Where's Bam Bam?! Where's Tyro?!" Yomaget Tre'vhek shouted into his comm. "He had the chaingun!"

"He's dead, Yom'ika," Ijaat Kabur lamented, and turned his gaze to Ferrigo as Prosstang landed in the center of camp. "Some wild eyed kids got the drop on him last night, took out the rest of his squad. And mine. Until Snake nailed 'em. Get back to camp."

"Jetiise. I have a bad feeling about this." Ferrigo said with a tone of resignation as he looked to the sky, his HUD busy with computations, image snaps and scrolling Mando'a text.

Over a broken comm channel Ferrigo heard Jango's voice. "Myles--copy?--Myles! This is Jang-- bzzzt-- vac now!"

Myles shuffled his boots and readied his blaster rifle. "Can't hear you Jango. Jango, please repeat."

Ferrigo added some fuel to his jetpack, as a few others with operable jetpacks did. Including Myles. A few minutes later, many of Ferrigo's comrades joined him in turning toward the edge of the quarry where they heard the sound of many rushing footfalls.

Ferrigo and others glanced further left as they saw Jango raise his left glove. "INCOMING!!"

A deep, sonorous voice boomed across the quarry from a tall human male Jedi with short brown hair. "Mandalorians, I am Master Dooku." The man was not elderly, but he was older. He appeared, and felt to Ferrigo, as someone to fear. Dooku looked toward Ferrigo. "You stand accused of murder. Surrender now and we will ensure that you are treated fairly."

A young, beautiful human female with blonde hair pulled back into a bun stood to Dooku's right. "But fight us, and we will bring swift justice."

Ferrigo was reminded of the visions he had been having. The Manda?

"You don't know justice." Ferrigo shook his head and growled, thinking of the deaths of his comrades at the hands of Death Watch and the Governor's planted insurgents over the last few days.

"Mandalorians, open fire!" Jango jumped into the quarry behind Ijaat Kabur and a few of his clansmen, Ollo and Erskaan Kabuor, partially screened by tents and opened supply crates. "And shoot the loudmouth first!"

Sorn Kebiin'akaan rushed across the camp between tents. The Jedi whirled and spun their blades like fans as the Mandalorians sent fusillades of blaster fire at them. Sorn was hit by two solid blaster shots deflected by Jedi lightsabers. The tents of the camp were ablaze soon after the firefight began.

"Sorn!" Ferrigo yelled.

Hail Ciryc'iviin staggered as he approached Sorn's slumped form. He fired blaster shots at the Jedi, with cover fire provided by Ferrigo, Jango, Myles, the Kabur clan warriors and others. Nonetheless, the Jedi deftly redirected the blaster shots into the gaps in Ciryc'iviin's armor. Blood flowed freely from the falling Mandalorian.

"Hail!!" a group of Mandalorians shouted as their comrade was now clearly dead in the snow.

"Don't let them close!" Jango Fett yelled. "We can't let 'em in here!"

Ruus'alor Bevar Bralor ran toward Ciryc'iviin and Kebiin'akaan, occasionally firing his blaster along his trek. One of his shots took down a human male Jedi at the periphery. To his surprise, a lanky Twi'lek Jedi landed in the snow between him and the fallen Mandalorians. Bevar Bralor swung his pistol toward the Jedi a moment too late. Bralor's full and steaming helmet tumbled off of his right shoulder plate into the snow. His pistol fired two shots downward before his body fell limp.

Ferrigo fired two blaster rounds at the pale tan Twi'lek Jedi, a shot to the chest and the last to the head. The gored Twi'lek fell back onto Hail Ciryc'iviin's body. Prosstang then spun to fire a shot at Master Dooku with his left-handed pistol. The shot was quickly and seemingly without effort deflected back into Ferrigo's Taddie blaster. The sting and vibration from the blaster caused him to drop it, though his eyes and T-visor never parted from Dooku.

The tall Jedi swept his left hand and knocked several Mandalorian troopers near to him from their feet. He turned back to Ferrigo and twisted his left hand as he deflected a series of blaster bolts unconsciously with his blue light saber. Ferrigo felt his purple cape lift and flight suit inflate and depress slightly across his chest, but he was not affected. The Jedi Dooku fixed his gaze on Ferrigo more intently.

Several of the Jedi leapt with amazing power and gracefulness into the camp, swinging their lightsabers to deflect blaster bolts, to cut weapons, gouge and sever body parts from Ferrigo's fellow Mandalorians. In response, twenty Mandalorians took to the air with their jetpacks and fired their blasters, and a few fired micro-missiles, saber darts and jetpack rockets. As the battle wore on, it became clear that Jaster's Legacy was outmatched, though causing several mortal wounds among the Jedi. The young blonde female Jedi, who started at the right hand of the tall Jedi Master, moved into the fray. She swiftly cut through nearly a dozen Mandalorians on her own to make way to the center of the Mandalorian camp.

Ferrigo glanced at her and fired several explosive pellets over her head into the ranks of Jedi still along the rim of the camp. The explosions tore through three Jedi, who screamed as their skin, robes and tunics were tattered and flamed. The young woman spun to regard Ferrigo. She yelled and bounded toward him three steps before she leapt into the air in a somersault, her blue lightsaber spun with her. Ferrigo unleashed a stream of flame at the soaring Jedi with his right gauntlet as he pointed his left gauntlet toward another moving cluster of Jedi and launched two micro-missiles.

As Erskaan Kabuor and his brother Ollo fell in battle from behind the crate to Jango's right, the Mand'alor yelled. "Cease fire! Cease fire! Chuck your blasters! Switch to projectile weapons!"

Ferrigo's micro-missiles took out four targets, and several of Ijaat Kabur's clan also fired their micro-missiles at the Jedi along the rim. Some of their rounds exploded on target, others were pushed aside and into other Mandalorians or the trees beyond by Jedi Master Dooku.

Ferrigo yelled and his vibroblade slid out from its housing and locked into position. The young female Jedi shrieked as she landed a kick into Ferrigo's chest, sending him deep into a snow bank. Prosstang gasped but could not breathe. His eyes glanced around his HUD for the oxygen enrichment option. Beyond the HUD screen, he could see the light of the blue lightsaber blade approaching.

"I am justice." The female Jedi growled with a chuckle. The thrum of her backswing rung in Ferrigo's audio receivers. "You Mandalorians should understand this."

''Hod Ha'ran. Love you, Mother. Manda...''

A loud, grunted yell and the sound of metal clashed against a lightsaber, was followed by the short gasp and yell of the female Jedi. Popping, pinging, chirping, vooming and buzzing filled the nearby air as Ferrigo shook himself and stood with his gauntlets aimed at the woman. The young Jedi pushed her hand outward toward Ferrigo and he felt his suit absorb and change pressure. Her alarmed attention at her ineffective use of the Force was tempered by the onslaught of Ijaat Kabur's ferocious series of attacks with his two-handed vibrosword. She returned her left hand to join in holding her saber.

"Give up!" she yelled.

"Kiss my shebs!" Ijaat Kabur responded with a pair of overhead blows that nearly forced the thin female to sit in the snow as she blocked them. "Ash'kyramur!"

Jango yelled as he began to run toward the eastern rim of the camp, his red cape flapped in his wake. "Get airborne, give me some cover!"

Myles Lorsht, Ruus'alore Lu'uk Kroyus, Uddo Wasst and Ver'alor Verrol Vu'udrel joined Ferrigo in lifting from the snow into the air with the rushing flame of their jetpacks.

The young female Jedi attempted to leap at Ferrigo, but Prosstang pulled his feet up to avoid the arcing slash of her blue lightsaber. Ferrigo popped a single explosive pellet down at her as she fell back toward the snow. The flame, smoke and fragments from the explosion pulsed around her invisible shield of protection. Ijaat Kabur bore down on her with another wave of slashes and thrusts.

Ferrigo continued forward to rejoin Myles and the others, and reloaded his micro-missile mounts. Ferrigo spotted several fellow verde a kilometer distant launching their pack missiles at the parked Republic cruisers. Within a few counts, three of the five stationary cruisers were gripped by pulsing waves of explosions. As he soared, Prosstang reloaded his explosive pellets and locked the loads. He fastened the pouch buttons and fired several explosive pellets in a wide arc along the eastern rim of the camp. Three more Jedi were thrown by the small explosions, likely wounded.

Ferrigo saw the tall Jedi Dooku point toward him and Myles and within a count, a young male human Jedi with long black hair tied back flew into the air and sliced Myles in half with his green lightsaber as the Mandalorian had been floating and firing micro-missiles on the Jedi directly below him.

Jango yelled. "Myles!"

Several of the Mandalorians howled in celebration at the sound of the large, distant explosions. Ferrigo flew around the camp, away from the Jedi, toward the cruisers. As he neared, he could see several companies of Republic Judicials pouring out from the flaming vessels. Perhaps two hundred men in all. Things are going to get ugly quickly.

He registered that Hektor Awaud, formerly of Jango's Ruus Company hovered nearby. "Hek, tsikala?"

Awaud looked over his other shoulder, nodded and looked back to Ferrigo with a nod. Ferrigo turned toward the advancing Republic force, which was arguably no better trained for combat than a local police unit, and accelerated toward the middle of the formation. On seeing an armored personnel carrier lumbering over the snow toward the rear of the formation, Ferrigo bent his chin down to his chest and launched his jetpack missile into the APC after he selected it as his target.

The scream and groan of durasteel and subsequent rippling cascade of ammunition explosions among the rear half of the formation created chaos among the Republic Judicials. With that, Ferrigo landed facing the rear of the forward half of the formation and all of his gauntlet weapons fired in rapid succession or concurrently. Several Republic trooper blaster shots found his beskar'gam resilient. He felt the warmth of those shots as he jogged toward his many enemies, and switched to automatic fire with his gauntlet blaster and pointed at every enemy in an arc as he shifted his own path toward the left.

The Awauds, Hektor and Bordo, were firing their carbine blasters on semi-auto from ten meters above the snow in sweeps clear of Ferrigo's position. Each of the Awauds moved to a side of the column of the rear half of the scattering formation and released flame on the Judicials, enclosing the entire remnant in a circle of flaming bodies, fuel and melting snow.

Ferrigo walked carefully forward and continued to use his gauntlet blaster in slow, sweeping arcs until his nearest standing opponents were thirty meters away.

"Awaude," Ferrigo rasped in his comm channel. "Time to get back to camp." With the thrust of his jetpack activated again, Prosstang lifted from the snow and soared above the remaining Republic Judicials. The Judicials tossed their weapons away and knelt down in the snow rather than move forward.

Within ten counts Ferrigo approached the rear of the Jedi position along the eastern rim of the camp and launched two micro-missiles at a cluster of Jedi. Two of the five Jedi leapt into the air with their lightsabers ignited. Prosstang pulled his dark-saber from over his shoulder and ignited it instantly and parried both saber attacks with his purple-glowing blade and a spiraling thrust of his jetpack boosters. The last parry loosed the dark-saber from Ferrigo's grasp and it fell toward a snow drift amid evergreen trees.

The explosions rocked the snowbank and took out several Jedi. Prosstang crossed a scene of abject desolation, so many of his vode laid in blood, along with several Jedi. Ferrigo spun to land near Ijaat Kabur and Aloquar Ordo. The large Mandalorian laid in a mush of blood-soaked snow. Ordo, bearing a full head of thick curled hair crawled toward them without his helmet and held his throat as he coughed painfully. Ferrigo looked over the smoldering wastes of the supply crates. His HUD pinged several times, but he saw no threats.

"Ijaat," Ferrigo gasped. A small amount of vapor emitted from Kabur's helmet. "Ori'vore, ner vod. Gar ner parjii." Prosstang sniffed deeply and felt a tear build and release down his left cheek into his sweaty beard.

Ijaat's helmet turned slightly toward Ferrigo, and his large hand moved from his chest toward his helmet a few times, but did not succeed in touching.

Ferrigo removed Ijaat's helmet carefully, and set it to the side. "My friend. My mentor. You and Tyro both. I am sorry I was not here..."

"I saw. Feed. You. Awaude. Take out. Cruisers," Ijaat coughed up some blood onto his grey-and black-bearded chin. "Take out. Back up. Di'kutla aruetiise." Kabur smiled and gripped Ferrigo's hand when offered it. Ijaat's teeth were bloody. Aloquar Ordo neared and laid next to the large, armored hulk of Kabur. Then stretched his glove to rest on the big man's collar plate.

"We did." Ferrigo grinned tightly inside his helmet, which started to ping repeatedly with several warning tones. "We did. You know, Kal Skirata's gonna ask you to see a dentist before the next job."

The two Mandalorians chuckled together. Their breath vapor rising, joined by Ordo's. Blood trickled from the corner of Ijaat Kabur's mouth into his stained beard as he coughed and gurgled.

"Take care. My son. Erskaan now Aliit'...alor...'til Bev'ika," Ijaat seemed to be in the grip of a deep pain, his eyes losing focus. "My son. You...Alo Ordo...help him. Stay Faithful. Jaster's Legacy." Kabur let go of Ferrigo's hand, and his head slowly rested back into the snow.

"We will, Ijaat." Ferrigo and Aloquar Ordo said solemnly.

Ferrigo slowly looked up to see that he and Aloquar were surrounded by Jedi with lightsabers drawn to their sides. The pings were rapid and all of the shapes were wreathed in deep red. Ferrigo lowered his chin and closed his eyes.

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 thought of Alor'akada Neviik, Jaster Mereel, Tyro and Relia Kels'mek, Aallys, Teena, Cheelie and other fellow Mandalorians lost on Galidraan.

"Prosstang?" The tall man with scarred face and a disheveled, uneven mane of black hair asked tersely. His Mandalorian shocktrooper armor seemed black; devoid of color in the dark. "Clan? Or family?"

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 clan leadership have kissed the shebs 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 reset his own jaw and endured the beatings he received over the next several days. He was sure that Galaar and Marev had also participated in these beatings.

What Remains of Jaster's Legacy?
Within a few weeks, he knew that he had been joined by Jango Fett, Jannigo Prosstang, Aloquar Ordo, Erskaan Kabuor, Yomaget Tre'vhek and a few others as prisoners of the Governor of Galidraan's dank and shadowy dungeon. For one day, they were gathered together in a vault within the dungeon. Only partial daylight lit a side of their forms and faces.

"We're done." Jango Fett lamented.

Erskaan Kabuor looked up wearily. "We have each other. We're not done."

Fett looked around in the grey light filtered from the window slits near the ceiling. "We have no way out of here. No ride off this planet. We're just waiting to be shipped to slave markets, boys. The Republic thinks we killed women and children."

Ferrigo lifted his head slightly. His speech was difficult, his tongue swollen after Tor Vizsla's kick. His comrades shook their heads.

"Keep it quiet, Snake." Jango muttered. "That guy did your face in. You need to keep your mouth shut and let it heal."

Jannigo spoke up. "We didn't though. We were just taking on insurgents to defend the-"

Fett swung out his left hand in a cutting motion, and made his shackle chains rattle. "Already know that Prst'adika. But Snake and the Awauds took out nearly two hundred Judicial Department officers who were coming to round us up." Jango shifted and glanced at Ferrigo, who allowed his weight to lean forward against the shackles around his arms and neck. "That made it unlikely that we would get any sort of generous treatment."

"We played to win, Mand'alor. Three of our vode took out nearly two hundred men? Snake and the Awauds should be considered among the greatest of supercommandos, along with Myles and Ijaat. Snake and the Awauds aren't at fault for us being in here," Yomaget Tre'vhek, being a big man, stretched slightly and his chains clinked on the floor. "Tor Vizsla. He's responsible. The Governor. He's responsible."

"I get that, Tre'vhek." Jango said impatiently. "Just stating the facts."

"We nuke this bastard when we return here, Mand'alor," Tre'vhek continued.

Several of the Mandalorians chuckled. Ferrigo was not among them. He groaned in pain and shook his head.

"Tre'vhek. This was a job," Fett muttered. "Just a job."

"We answered your call." Tre'vhek said pointedly. "Wasn't just a job. We're out there defending each other. Our families. Our clans. We been disgraced. They should pay for what they did."

"That's big talk for a Mandalorian in chains, Tre'vhek." Fett raised his left eyebrow.

"He's right, Jango." Ferrigo muttered from painfully tightened lips. "Not about nuking. Not even about revenge. But about why we're here. This was about honoring our bonds with you, our clans and our families, and our comrades. The money is secondary."

Fett gazed at Tre'vhek, then Ferrigo. "Well, Snake, maybe for you. I'll keep that in mind when I look to hire professionals for future jobs."

Ferrigo was suddenly angered by the words of his good friend, his Mand'alor. A few of the chained Mandalorians also murmured in response to Jango's words. Prosstang sputtered. "You've no idea the insult you've just cast at me and my clansman, ner vod."

"Maybe I do." Fett retorted calmly.

Ferrigo and Yomaget both gasped in shock and fury. Tre'vhek growled. "Kriff you, Fett. You're not my Mand'alor. Not anymore."

Ferrigo's chained left hand raised in reaction toward Tre'vhek. "Woah. Wait, Yom'ika..."

Erskaan Kabuor interjected. "Ner vode. K'uur. K'uur. In time, this will sort itself out. We need to be free before we consider anything else."

"Ersk is right, ner vode. We can't let ourselves beat up on each other. We need to work on getting ourselves freed." Aloquar Ordo said insistently.

Fett said plainly. "Tre'vhek. You're right. It's not worth the trouble anyway. I'm not your Mand'alor."

There was silence in the dungeon.

"There are hard times ahead for Mandalore," Ferrigo rasped, his face lowered to gaze at the floor. "I've seen visions."

"Visions?" Lu'uk Kroyus asked as he rattled his chains to scratch an itch.

"Yes." Ferrigo lifted his head slightly and looked to Kroyus, and the rest of his comrades including Jango Fett. "Visions of destruction, death. Mandalore in flames."

"What do you mean, Velrrus?" Tre'vhek was disturbed. "Destruction? The New Mandalorians are pacifists. We aren't terrorists."

Fett inhaled. "You Clan Prosstang folk add too much muja to your stills."

"A young beautiful blonde with green eyes has shown me," Ferrigo seemed entranced as he looked at a floor space in the middle of the vault. His hands open and his chains jingled as he spread them apart. "She shows me destruction, but tells me that we will recover. Even restore Mandalore to greatness," Ferrigo raised his clinking chains. "Our Mandalore. Her Mandalore."

"Who is this blonde?" Kabuor asked sincerely as Jango shook his head in silence.

"I think she represents the Manda." Ferrigo squinted and shook his head.

"Snap out of it, Velrrus." Jango leaned toward Ferrigo. "Manda is a concept of the afterlife. Mind, body and spirit. All one. You're delusional. You Prosstangs have too much money, too much booze to see how hard it is for the rest of the clans to make ends meet."

Aloquar Ordo breathed deeply. "I think the air in here is getting dense."

"Maybe from Yom'ika's bowels," Jannigo quipped. "The gruel they serve here is like a solvent. But really, Yom'ika. Hold 'em in if you can. It reeks in here enough as it is."

"Kriff you, little Pross." Tre'vhek shook his head and smiled slightly.

Ferrigo lowered his head. "I can't snap out of it Fett. Just because you may have lost Faith doesn't mean that everyone else has."

"You'd better take that back," Jango sat up. "I'm only pointing out the facts. And this was just a job."

"I've seen what I've seen. Been shown things I couldn't have imagined. The dome and cube cities will fall too. The Prosstang lands will not be spared." Ferrigo looked to the ceiling. "You've lost your way, Jango. And I can understand why." Prosstang turned his hideously swollen face to his Mand'alor. "But if your ethic is only about money. The job. And you think you have all the answers in that...then Jango, you'll never understand the hearts of the people you claim to lead. And you won't be ready to defend Mandalore."

"Should watch what you say, Velrrus. You more than anyone else." Fett countered.

Erskaan Kabuor sighed. "Why? If we're done, as you said, then why not speak freely?"

"Prosstang lands not spared?" Jannigo Prosstang shook in his chains. "What do you mean?"

"The Palace and much of the town in Prosstang will be destroyed," Ferrigo responded without looking up. "Many people killed. But we shall survive. Our people will survive."

Jango looked at Ferrigo. "Well, you gonna tell 'em?"

"Tell them what?" Through his bruised eyes, Ferrigo looked at Fett, then Prst'adika.

"You're in some ways no different than me. Heartless. Determined. Relentless. All about the job. But you have a two-sided screen. It seems you're forgetting which side of the screen you are on." Jango Fett leveled his gaze at Ferrigo with a petulant grin. "Shall I say more?"

"What do you mean, Mand'alor?" Jannigo Prosstang spoke up. "What screen? Velrrus, what is he talking about?"

Kabuor cleared his throat. "Let's put this to rest."

"I agree," Aloquar Ordo shook his head. "We're getting nowhere attacking each other."

Ferrigo rasped. "Doesn't matter, Jango. We can do something about the situation. Reach out to Duke Bieldo and level the relations."

"Treat with the Faithless? Is that what you're asking for Snake?" Fett shook his head and seethed. "Assuming we even make it out of here or wherever we're likely to be sent, you think we should lay down our arms - our way of life?"

"We should never lay down our arms or deny our way of life," Ferrigo said calmly. "But the family, the clan and friends demand that we consider those among our people who want peace at home and fear the ambitions of galactic conquest of those among the Faithful who wish to follow the example of Mandalore the Indomitable."

"I like the stories of Mandalore the Indomitable," Lu'uk Kroyus said with a slight lift in his voice. "The Taung were powerful."

Fett looked at the young Kroyus and then at Ferrigo. "But we learned from Te Kandosii, Lu'uk. Depend on yourself. And Mandalore needed to follow his own agenda. Not that of the Sith."

Jannigo asked thoughtfully. "Does that mean that we could be conquerors of our own design, just not others?"

Jango, Ferrigo, Aloquar Ordo and Erskaan Kabuor exchanged glances. "No." They uttered as one voice.

Jango continued. "The Taung. Where are they, Lu'uk? Are they powerful now?"

"They gifted us what we have, Mand'alor. Isn't that powerful, as a legacy?"

Fett smiled. "I guess we could see it that way. But we're not going to be expanding Mandalorian Space anytime soon while we're in chains."

The Mandalorians of Jaster's Legacy all laughed softly and smiled for a few moments.

After the discussion they spoke very little among themselves before being shipped to slavers throughout the galaxy. The True Mandalorians were finished under Jango Fett.

Hard Time with Gardulla Besadii and a Visit by Jedi
The large female-voice emitted from Gardulla Besadii, Ferrigo's Hutt slavemaster, in Huttese. "U steeth monda wermo, u hagwa foonta koopa."

Responding in Huttese, in the presence of Nikto, Weequay and Gamorrean guards and whipmasters, Ferrigo bowed. The whippings and beatings had been effective. "Wonkee Gardulla, lawah je koopa foonta wompa tocky. Je choba chuba." I'll do the cups again, you fat slob.

"Noah!" the Hutt pointed at him and soon the hard, wet lengths of braided bantha leather cracked on Ferrigo's bare back. The outfit he wore was limited to a metal-ringed leather harness and skimpy pair of leather shorts.

Ferrigo's shouts and screams echoed throughout the lower chambers and halls of Gardulla's Nal Hutta Palace, as he fell to the floor on his hands and knees. The blood trickled from re-opened wounds of his pale, gaunt body. A Nikto guard named Gurkgal, who had taken great relish in punishing the Mandalorian grabbed Ferrigo's neck and slammed his face into the floor. He thought of Relia, Kenna, Teena, Aallys, Raalee, Bekkah and a few other of the slaves he had freed in the last five years. He thought of Tyro Kels'mek, Ijaat Kabur and the many other Mandalorians lost at Galidraan. Ferrigo muttered under his breath an oath to kill Gurkgal.

Gurkgal lustily punched Prosstang in the lower back. Ferrigo shouted breathlessly, his eyes straining with tears. The Nikto came around and lifted the handle on the rear of the slave collar. Once Ferrigo caught sight of him, the guard viciously backhanded the bearded Mandalorian's face and followed with an open-handed slap.

Gardulla laughed heartily.

Her pink Cyber Galactic protocol model droid, shifted toward the entrance to the grand chamber, as the axe-wielding Gamorrean guards moved away from the doorway and spoke. "Oh Mighty Gardulla, the Gatekeeper Droid has informed me that a pair of Jedi have requested entry to the Palace. The Jedi have been granted entry and are being escorted directly to your Excellency."

Gardulla's mood and tone of voice changed instantly. She roared with displeasure. "Nopa chowbasa! Karking Jeedai! Jee no lawah dees hodrudda!"

The large doors to the grand chamber groaned and clanked with the turning of gears to open. Another protocol droid near the opening doors stood ready and spoke to the two unwelcomed and cloaked guests. Presumably Jedi.

"Jeedaii! Kee chai chai cun kuta?" Gardulla protested. The pink protocol droid began to translate.

"The Esteemed and Mighty Gardulla," the taller human, a male, spoke in clear, elegant and sonorous basic. "I am Jedi Master Dooku, humble servant of peace," he continued as he lowered his cowl from his head, his left hand indicated his companion, a young blonde-haired human female. "And this is my Padawan Learner, Komari Vosa. We are here to discuss the recently reported hoarding of bacta raided from insured shipments between Republic systems."

The droid turned to Gardulla and softly translated into Huttese.

"U tinka jee moocha do bacta spasteeka?!" Gardulla, again agitated, turned slightly to her droid.

"To the contrary, your Excellency," the voice of the male Jedi boomed throughout the chamber. "We are only following our leads. We do not believe you have committed any violation," Dooku began to pace, as Qui-Gon Jinn had done. The Jedi glanced for a moment toward Ferrigo. "If you possess any knowledge of parties to the crime, we would certainly appreciate your cooperation."

Gurkgal and the Weequay guards dragged and lifted Ferrigo to his feet. The Jedi turned to look at the poorly-clothed, bruised and bleeding human before their eyes.

"Master Dooku," the young female gazed at Ferrigo. "Isn't it unusual for a Hutt to have a human male slave?"

"Padawan, you shall remain silent." The tall, salt-and-pepper haired, and bare-faced Jedi with strong facial features set his left hand downward as if to reinforce his words. Ferrigo felt a slight constriction of his breath.

''Fierfek. Who is this Dooku? Wait. Yes, Galidraan. He was there...''

Jedi Master Dooku, seemingly startled for a moment gazed directly at Ferrigo. He appraised Prosstang for several seconds before he returned his attention slowly to the Hutt. "Several containers of bacta were traced to this region of Nal Hutta, Lord Gardulla. A pair of Trandoshans and a Nikto," Dooku looked at Gurkgal. "...were reportedly in possession of this bacta. Given the recently concluded Stark Bacta War, such a condition might attract reprisals from Coruscant, Mighty Gardulla. A situation most untenable, if I might say."

Gurkgal cowered backward a few steps. Ferrigo scowled at the Nikto. ''You sleemo, Gurkgal. Hope you get your come uppance.''

"Mighty Gardulla," the Jedi raised an eyebrow. "I do ask that you consider a request." Dooku turned toward the Nikto and Ferrigo Prosstang.

After an exchanged hush of Huttese and basic between Gardulla and her droid, the droid addressed the Jedi. "The Mighty Gardulla wishes to hear your request, Honorable Jedi Master Dooku."

"Consider the following, Esteemed Gardulla of the Glorious Besadii clan. Please release into our custody the Nikto named Gurkgal, and the human slave here."

The protocol droid spoke up. "Her Majesty Gardulla shall consider both of your requests, but has a question for you in hopes of clarifying your needs, Master Jedi."

"The needs of the Jedi Order are not conditional, Mighty Gardulla," Dooku said insistently. His Padawan Vosa shifted her weight, standing at her master's side. "You have only to agree. Or, to disagree. Though I would suggest strongly that disagreement will be met with reprisals of an immediate nature." The tall Jedi moved the left hand side of his cloak to expose a gleaming metallic, curved tube affixed to his waistband. His lightsaber. The Padawan followed the movements of her master, and indicated a readiness to remove her own lightsaber for use. "Agree, and you shall be compensated for your compliance."

"Gurkgal ree goola. Hees karking sleemo hotshuh," Gardulla growled.

The protocol droid raised her pink metallic hands. "I am C-5TO. As a lady, I will respectfully translate my master's comment. You may take Gurkgal."

Jedi Master Dooku turned to regard Ferrigo and again in his booming, noble voice. "The young man. We will not leave without him. He is a Mandalorian, is he not?" The Weequay guards began to converge on Ferrigo, and the Nikto also moved toward Prosstang. "Mighty Gardulla. Please call off your guard."

C-5TO began to speak quickly to Gardulla in Huttese. Gardulla grumbled in Huttese to her protocol droid, who then turned sharply.

"The Mighty and Gracious Gardulla Besadii insists that this servant has been properly obtained without any record of criminal wrong-doing. A transaction with Zygerrian slavers. My master wishes to inform you that documents verifying the legality of the transaction and the status of this property as being from Tatooine is available for the Jedi to review." C-5TO lowered her arms. "The Munificent Gardulla says the human male is not Mandalorian and shall not leave the premises."

"Master, we're in a shell game here." the young blonde Jedi Padawan implored the imposing Dooku.

Ferrigo wondered, through the searing and shooting pains he still felt in his back and the swelling of his face if perhaps the Jedi knew more about him than they had said. He recognized both of them.

Master Dooku looked down toward his Padawan and then beyond to Prosstang. His gaze was uncomfortably penetrating. "I wish to speak with the slave personally, your Excellency. While the documentation is being gathered for my Padawan's review."

After a few seconds, C-5TO said fluidly. "Gardulla, my kind and respectful master, shall permit you to speak with the slave."

The tall, darkly dressed Jedi approached Ferrigo. "Leave us," he said to the guards with the spread of the fingers of his large left hand. The guards immediately backed away and walked toward the chamber wall. Several steps away, Padawan Vosa engaged Gurkgal in conversation.

Ferrigo winced, and heard Gardulla softly grumbling in the distance. The impressing voice of the Jedi Master filled his ears. "Your service here may soon be over. I can guarantee it."

Ferrigo moaned unintelligibly.

"You are Mandalorian, are you not?"

"I'm just a simple man trying to make my way through the galaxy," Ferrigo echoed words of Jaster Mereel.

"Ever work for a Hutt in your extensive travels?" the Jedi seemed to have a persuasive charm. Ferrigo imagined being on the beach in Zeltros with Kenna Luxara.

Ferrigo shook his head slowly side to side. "Except for this one." I've always worked for myself.

"Ever live on Nar Shaddaa?" the Jedi circled Ferrigo once more.

"Who hasn't?" Ferrigo replied tersely.

Jedi Master Dooku exposed his lightsaber again and seemed to encourage the young, beaten slave to glance at it. "Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Do you know of him?"

Ferrigo felt as if his mind was being opened and reviewed. He reaffirmed images of coupling with one or several of his past lovers. For a moment he glimpsed a vision of the gorgeous, green-eyed, blonde long-haired goddess of the Manda.

But Dooku's stroll stopped instantly and his eyes snapped to look at Ferrigo. The Jedi seemed ready to question Ferrigo again.

"No, I do not." Ferrigo shook his head. "I don't know any Jedi."

"Does this look familiar?" Dooku reached to his right hip and with his left hand seemed to offer a foot-long, black rectangular oval object with a flat plate around its shape near one end.

A dark-saber. Ferrigo could see the mark of PSAM on its hilt. "No." Ferrigo shook his head.

"Are you sure?" Master Dooku's deep voice seemed to rattle Ferrigo's bones as the tall Jedi activated the dark-saber. Its pitch black blade form was wreathed in a crackling field of purple-glowing energy. "It was found on Galidraan. Its possessor killed many Jedi. And Republic Judicial Department officers. Any help you would provide in identifying its owner would secure your release from here." Dooku flourished the blade slowly as if inspecting its qualities.

The Padawan spoke up, having finished her discussion with the Nikto. "Master Dooku. This man is not telling us the truth."

Dooku turned his head face his Padawan. "About many things we may conjecture, Padawan. I for one, am inclined to believe him."

Vosa shook her head. "But, Master. I am sure I know this man. I believe him to be the one I subdued-"

"Before you continued in your mastery of exterminating a full score of Mandalorians?" Dooku mused.

Ferrigo thought of the gorgeous, green-eyed, blonde-haired young woman of his visions.

"He's even thinking of me. Thinking of me now." Vosa excitedly blurted.

"No." Ferrigo sighed. "I'm not." He thought of the Manda. Love you.

"He is lying, Master." The Padawan was exasperated. "He is the one. He is the one I sensed thinking of me during the battle on Galidraan."

Dooku gazed upon Ferrigo. "A Mandalorian may be humble, but they are proud of their accomplishments, Komari. This slave is not proud." Dooku turned to face Ferrigo fully. "Young man, do you enjoy your slavery here in the vaults of Gardulla the Hutt?"

Ferrigo was silent.

"Very well, then," Jedi Master Dooku concluded with a smile that suggested incredulity. "Padawan Vosa. I will not tolerate protest from you. It is time to leave." The Jedi left with Gurkgal. Ferrigo would not miss him. Nor the Jedi.

No Hutt Strings Attached
Ferrigo woke in his small cell, simply furnished. The beatings had diminished, but the accommodations had not improved over the next two months. He was still lean and weakened, his pale skin marked by whip scars. Gardulla continued to insist that Ferrigo was in fact Mandalorian, and had much more to offer than a common slave. Ferrigo resisted efforts to draw out either his true identity or alias. He continued to underperform in his knowledge of Huttese, and his housekeeping skills remained deficient.

"My dear human, you have been granted your release as your indentured servitude has expired." C-5TO said softly.

"I like you so much better now that you're with Gardulla."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nevermind." Ferrigo considered that perhaps the protocol droid had undergone a memory wipe since being transferred from Anurgga.

He emerged from Gardulla's Palace on Nal Hutta wearing a simple tunic blouse and trousers, a pair of simple roba hide sandals and a thick, dark hooded cloak made of bantha wool. Heading into a fierce, rancid-smelling rainstorm, the Mandalorian considered his options. He walked a soaking kilometer to the capital city of Bilbousa. where the major spaceport on Nal Hutta was located.

The Rough and Tumble Nal Hutta Cantina
He stopped in at the rough and tumble cantina, had his first full meal in months and had a few drinks and tipped the two blue-skinned Twi'lek female dancers. He also told a male Twi'lek who claimed to be a smuggler named Ho'chass Eenier that he would be interested in transport to Nar Shaddaa.

"How would you be paying for this trip?" the green-skinned Twi'lek queried after sipping from his cup. "I don't accept Republic credits."

"Perfect," Ferrigo gently waved his open palm to his left. "I don't have Republic credits. You could say I'm a bit light on funds while I'm visiting here. Nar Shaddaa is where you will get paid. And paid well."

Ho'chass Eenier shook his head slightly, his head-tails shifting. "That's not going to work for me, barve."

Ferrigo looked at the seemingly familiar Twi'lek from under the hood of his cowl. "What's your fee?"

"A barve like you...looks...and smells like trouble," the Twi'lek shook his head again slightly. "Four hundred truguts. Up front. Two hundred more on arrival at Nar Shaddaa."

"I'll pay you double. Full payment on Nar Shaddaa." Ferrigo said as he pulled his cup from the cantina counter and took a sip of fermented root beverage. "Twelve hundred truguts."

The Twi'lek looked dubious. "I don't trust you."

"You must be new to the business, Eenier," Ferrigo began to growl. "Trust is never an issue. Certainly not one you talk about. Adjust your rates."

The lekku of the proclaimed smuggler twitched and withdrew upward toward his shoulders.

"And your friends over there. They aren't going to be of any help to you if I choose to kill you with my bare hands."

The Twi'lek scowled, showing his slightly pointed teeth. "Who are you?" the Twi'lek growled, then turned to one of the crowd to the side wall and snapped. "Contact her."

"Sure thing, boss." A Nikto male in a motley outfit responded and moved to the entrance of the cantina.

"Who are you?" Ho'chass Eenier repeated.

"Someone who could kill you. With my bare hands." Ferrigo simmered. "But that's not what either of us wants. I want to get back home. I'll pay you well. Enough to take care of your crew with a bonus for you. And your sister too."

The Twi'lek's mouth dropped open.

A Sight for Sore Eyes and Other Parts
Ferrigo finished his cup of root grog and set it on the bar. "Are you all going to stand there and pick your exhaust valves? Or are we gonna ride to Nar Shaddaa?"

A firm but soft female voice accompanied a sharp blade that pressed into his thin left side. "Who is this, Ho'chass?" her hissing voice sounded familiar. "Twelve hundred truguts is a good amount for a third class stim runner, stranger." He felt a thin hand on his weakened right shoulder attempt to pull him around.

Ferrigo swung out his left arm to block the blade and spun quickly to face the bearer of the knife. His cowl fell from his head to his shoulders with the motion, exposing his long, shaggy brown hair and fully-bearded, but gaunt face. He gaped at the sight before him.

A vision wearing a gem-studded shiny black leather headdress and soaked black leather pants and matching vest. Under her vest she wore a tight-fitting, light orange blouse with short-frilled collar and cuffs that was opened enough to reveal her ample green cleavage. The beautiful Twi'lek noble-cum-pirate Raaleena'warlaan gaped at Ferrigo.

She gasped and stammered. His face fidgeted between an ecstatic smile, desperate worry, and pained frustration.

Raalee blurted with a brilliant, excited smile. "I don't know whether I should give you the most amazing hug we'll ever experience outside the bedchamber, or knee you in the groin." The beautiful Twi'lek gasped. "You're so thin."

Ferrigo turned his head slightly, and kept his eyes on Raalee with a charming smile and open arms. "I'm all for amazing hugs."

Raalee lunged into Ferrigo and squeezed her ample chest into his with her arms tightly around him until her one-time lover and father of her son groaned into her ear and prepared to kiss her. She then kneed his groin swiftly three times until she let his thickly-covered arms go. He fell to the floor breathless, in deep, wrenching gut pain and without sight. "Pick him up, boys. Carry him to the ship."

The cantina stirred and a few of the denizens moved toward the group.

Raalee pulled out her pistol and shouted. "I kicked this man in his reproductive organs. He is my ex-husband. Anyone gets closer is an honorary ex-husband of Helegas Eenier. I will kick or knee you. In your reproductive organs. Wherever they might be." She pointed her pistol at an approaching Aqualish ruffian. "Oh, come on, Ridbus. We both know that I've kicked your sucker tendon."

The Aqualish and the rest of the cantina crowd backed off and resumed their conversations.

"Remember to tip those hard-working Twi'lek dancers, like my ex-husband surely did." Raalee tossed a credit chip to the Ithorian bartender.

A Familiar Ride
Ferrigo sat in the salon area of the freighter and groaned, as he pulled his hair back from his face.

Raaleena'warlaan walked past toward the cockpit. "Yes, this is one of your old ships."

Ferrigo shook his head and gasped. "Ex-husband? You kneed me. Raalee?"

"I couldn't make up my mind, Schingo." The green-skinned Twi'lek beauty seemed to have put on some weight, but her shape was exquisite. "If Reggar wasn't asleep in the back, I'd go straight for the groin. Every time." Raalee smiled as she gestured. "Go spend time with your son. After you take a shower. Or two. Oh, and the name's Helegas -- not Raalee, Raaleena, or Raaleena'warlaan."

Ferrigo cleaned up, shaved and trimmed his beard, and dressed in a set of clean coveralls. He looked in the mirror. He was withdrawn and gaunt from the many months of near starvation and beatings. At least I look muscular. He smirked and shook his head.

He spent an hour talking and playing with his son after introducing himself as a paying passenger who knew Helegas and Ho'chass. Reggar's eyes sparkled, his voice confident. This Twi'lek boy, his son, wanted to be a pirate. Just like his mom and uncle. Ferrigo talked to him about repairing ships and knowing where to target enemy pursuit craft to slow them down. "Pirates don't kill if they're any good, Reggar. They only wound and ensure they have a target that will return many times over with another load of loot. It's also good practice to allow your reputation to grow."

"Who are you? How come you're riding with us if you know so much about pirating and ships?" Reggar asked.

"Well-" Ferrigo began as Raalee entered the cabin.

"You smell and look much better. A little worse than I last saw you, though." She said as she looked him over.

"Mom, who is he?" Reggar turned to look up at his mom. He was a handsome boy for a Twi'lek-human hybrid. His skin was very pale green, his facial features looked very much like Ferrigo's when he first joined Jaster Mereel for training almost two decades before.

Raalee looked at Ferrigo. "He is a paid passenger, Reggar. And we need the credits."

Ferrigo pinched his lips tightly and tried to muster a smile, though he wanted to cry.

"Okay, mom." Reggar turned to Ferrigo. "Thanks for talking and playing, nerv'ott."

"That's ner vod." Ferrigo said slowly. "But you could call me buir."

"Boo'yer? That's what mom used to call Hondo." Reggar moved two starship toys around each other.

Ferrigo said slowly again. "Boo-eer. Buir."

"Reggar." Raaleena'warlaan snapped as quietly as she could. She was a beautiful mother. Her lekku were twitching and moving up the sides of her orange blouse.

"He did some bad things though." Reggar said matter-of-factly. "Tried to keep me from my mom. Bezz and Uncle Ho'chass helped mom find me."

"Reggar Eenier. Enough. Put away your toys and get cleaned up for bed." Raalee rolled her eyes after she shared a glance with Ferrigo.

"Lekk mom."

A Spark of Love and Life
Ferrigo exited Reggar's cabin behind Raalee and followed her to the salon. She turned to him, they were alone. "Before you say anything-"

"Raalee," Ferrigo sighed. "Have I held myself only to you? No. I un-"

"No, you don't understand. I made a mistake. A big one. But I've rolled on. I was...with Hondo for a time. He taught me a lot. In a time where I felt you let me go, he was there. I wanted adventure. To explore the possible."

"Raalee," Ferrigo sighed again. "I loved you. But I had a plan, and commitment issues. Still do. I'm not going to judge you."

Her lekku twitched. "I'm weak for you, Schingo."

"No, Raalee. You are strong. For yourself, our son, your brother and this crew."

"I still want you, my stallion. Nobody's compared to you." Raalee bit her lip. Just as she did when she was a sixteen year old noble Twi'lek slave girl. "You're so handsome. And the long hair. So sexy. But I need to nurse you to recovery, put meat back on your bones."

"You have become an amazing woman, Raaleena'warlaan." Ferrigo gazed at her beautiful face, his eyes drawn to her yielding orange blouse and the contrast with her bright green skin before he caught her blue eyes again. He then glanced away for a moment as he considered Teena and Alor'akada Neviik. His gaze returned with a faint smile of apology.

"I don't care about your ties, Schingo." She gasped.

"For now, I have none. But I have seen a future where I am tied." Ferrigo continued after taking a breath and gazing down at her as she stepped in close to him, almost pressed against him. "I want to help you, Raalee. But pirating..."

Raalee pulled Ferrigo's mouth to hers, her hands laced together behind his neck. "Shut your trap, Schingo." The Twi'lek woman gasped and closed her mouth on Ferrigo's lips.

His passion inflamed, he took her in his arms and with the strength he could muster carried her carefully to her quarters before he closed and locked the door. Their kisses led to a furious disrobing, their bodies freed of clothing, and quickly Raalee grasped his thin waist and fell to her knees.

Her lekku moved to touch his stomach and lower region. He gasped and cooed at his one time lover as she kissed around his much narrower than normal mid-section. He could see her womanhood, and that she still trimmed as he did. He smiled and chuckled until she showed Ferrigo that she had a great hunger. He gripped the overhead coolant pipe and groaned loudly. He soon burst with loud barks and roars of joy at her loving of him, sharing so much with Raalee.

"I've made a mess, baby," he grunted and mewed, and lifted his right heel and moved his hip slightly toward her and let his right hand down to hold and caress her tchun lek, or left head-tail.

She only groaned and savored his offering until it was gone, smacking her lips and licking her fingertips. Then she kissed him there at his nozzle again with a loud smooch.

Ferrigo's jaw dropped as he cooed and picked up Raalee under her armpits. She kissed him deeply and held his shoulders for a moment before he laid her back on her bed. He immediately reciprocated with his own hunger, kissing her green skin down low and pulling it with his lips until he found pink. She cooed back at her lover as she stretched, and then wound herself up into a tight ball while he clamped his lips to her lovingly. She cried out several times and squeezed her endowments together. Ferrigo enjoyed the flavors she shared with him and moved his gaunt frame upward to share them back with her in a kiss. He soon felt fully enveloped in Raalee as the textures and sights of manhood and Twi'lek womanhood joined.

"Baby, you're even more beautiful now." Ferrigo pressed the issue and made Raalee gasp and whimper at her fullness of possessing him. "You fit me so good. You always did."

She kissed him deeply, her lekku wrapped around his neck as she held his face in her hands. Her legs locked around him and held him tight. She looked down at his thin stomach and waist in contrast to his substantial endowments that he gave her incessantly. "So deep, so amazing, Schingo. My stallion."

Ferrigo muttered and kissed Raalee, holding her tightly in his muscular arms, hands beneath her head. "Gonna make me let go. So tight Raalee." He looked down at her lovely body, so green, and glistening with perspiration, squeezed and flattened somewhat under his chest and grip.

"Bring it to me, Snake. All of you. So deep. Oh my god!"

Ferrigo bounced quickly and furiously with his precious, jiggling Raaleena'warlaan, and kissed her with groaning mutters to mask her whines and whimpers as they both released again and again.

"Love you, Raalee. Always will." Ferrigo whispered.

"Love you, Schingo. Always will. You are an amazing lover." Raalee giggled and smiled as she kissed him again and again. "Even if you have lost thirty kilos, you still have that heavy hammer below your belt."

Ferrigo groaned and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, and maintained pressure with his Twi'lek lover, moving like a slow dancer. He blew out some air and inhaled with a slow seethe as she moved with him and pushed against him. "I can't tell you in words how wonderful you make me feel, baby."

"Ohhhhh..." Raalee moaned as Ferrigo continued and increased the tension of his moves. "My god. You're so...oh my...You're gonna get me again, Schingo. Soong ree karking grancha meeshku. Kriff da. Kriff je porkman, meeshkunek." Raalee grunted and shook all over Ferrigo as he moved slowly and deliberately. "Oh my god," she gasped and cried as she lost control all over her man.

He had a grimace on his face punctuated by grunts and squints. Soon, the yelling followed as their pace again picked up. Ferrigo sputtered and cooed as Raalee whimpered and cried out with vulgarities. Prosstang sped up until their flesh collided with the sound of loud clapping. His eyes opened wide as did his mouth, which rasped and stammered words of love and lust. He gazed at their connection, as his thin body undulated and hammered his gifts into his shaking, screaming, buxom Twi'lek lover.

As she wailed and drug her fingertips down his ribs and narrow sides, Ferrigo yelled and directed his substantial deposits all over his beautiful green Twi'lek until she was well-covered. He then slid back into the snug and trembling warmth of Raalee until their wet plumage was firmly pressed together again. And she squeezed his gaunt body close to her and kissed him deeply.

He rolled the two of them onto his back, so that her soaked and sticky chest was over his neck. He feasted on her orbs, tasting her sweat and his own releases. Raalee shuddered and moaned and Ferrigo grunted as she clutched him tightly. They carried on for another half-hour in a variety of ways before they were exhausted with a few more passionate eruptions.

"I know you'll never marry me, Schingo," Raalee gasped and sighed repeatedly as she tried to catch her breath from their athletic love-making. "But you don't need to worry. I'm not going to do this forever. I do love the travel. And males all pretty much do what I tell them to do."

"I can believe that." Ferrigo smiled, and held her in his arms against his chest and legs. "Our son is so smart. He gets that from you."

"He wants to know who his dad is. He knows he's different, Schingo." Raalee looked back over her shoulder at Ferrigo and accepted his kisses between words. "Aside from Ho'chass, or Rolen, his uncle...other Twi'leks treat him differently. And he doesn't fit in with humans. Seeff is pretty good with him, but he's a bit of a jerk to me."

"I can believe all that's true." Ferrigo murmured and kissed Raalee's shoulder. "Raalee, I want you to do something for me."

"What is it, Schingo?"

"I want you to work for me again. Legit. Warrior Lust Trading Company."

"I hit them once a month, Schingo. Good money." She smiled slightly incredulously. "I'll back off until we get you back to normal. Six months in Gardulla's service did not treat you well. I need to get some bacta on you when we get to your place."

"Come on, Raalee. Change the tags on this ship. Come back to WLTC." Ferrigo smiled.

"Pay might be a problem, my Schingo. I have dependents. Our son. And as you can tell, Rolen and the boys are not exactly the most competent pirates around. But they are my projects." Raalee raised her left eyebrow. "Keep life interesting."

"What about Bezz? And Seeff? Those guys aren't your projects, are they?" Ferrigo sighed.

"No. They're sharp enough to take care of themselves. And they can't pull anything on me. But they're not full-time." Raalee gently wiggled against Ferrigo and smiled. "Bet you didn't know I'd make a good pirate."

"You're intelligent, beautiful and have a great pedigree, Raaleena'warlaan. I'm honored to have sired a son with you."

The Twi'lek laughed out loud as she wiggled her posterior into him again. "You sound less like a fearsome, hard scrabble bounty hunter than a noble patrician, Schingo."

"If you only knew, baby." Ferrigo ground his treasure trail of plumage back into Raalee's hind quarters and gasped.

A Bright Son
The entry request tone sounded three low beeps. Raalee groaned. "Ship issues. Ugh." Still laying on her side with Ferrigo behind her, she pressed a button on the side of the bed. The door lock disengaged and the door opened soon after.

"Reggar." Raalee said with surprise, lifting the cover higher to completely cover her wet, ample chest as their son entered wearing his sleepwear.

Reggar pushed the door button to close the door, then the red button to lock. The pale green Twi'lek boy looked solemnly at Raalee as Ferrigo held her in his arms. "Mommy. Is he my daddy?"

Raalee looked to Ferrigo, and back at their son. "Yes, he is. He is Redar Velrrus."

"Redar Velrrus? Mom. The fearsome bounty hunter that Hondo was always trying to stay away from? The one who Bezz took money from?" the young lad asked seriously, his short lekku were slightly bobbing.

Ferrigo smiled with pride. This boy is sharp.

"Redar Schingo Velrrus, the best bounty hunter in all the galaxy?" Reggar asked excitedly.

Ferrigo folded his lips together to avoid beaming. ''My son! I love this kid.''

"Yes, Reggar. The very same." Raalee sighed.

"Wow. Mom. Hode Hair-on. This is amazing! He's my dad?! Hode Hair-on! All the spacers talk about him, like hoping they never have a bounty on 'em taken by Schingo Velrrus."

Ferrigo blushed and grinned as widely as he could imagine that was possible. "If it means anything Reggar, I am so amazed that you're my son. So smart and crafty. You are sure to make Schingo Velrrus and...Helegas Eenier proud." Ferrigo did not resist the urge to squeeze Raalee tightly in his hands and arms with a kiss of her smiling face.

"You guys gonna keep doin' mommy and daddy stuff? Or are you gonna come out and talk with me?"

"Reggar," Raalee said firmly. "Time for bed. I'll be right there to tuck you in."

"Okay. Wow. Wow, mom. This is so cool! My daddy is the shebs-kicking Schingo Velrrus. Hode Hair-On! You got so lucky mommy!" Reggar's smile was indelible as he dashed for his cabin. The boy shouted before the door closed. "Make me a brother, mommy!"

Raalee looked at Ferrigo as she turned her shoulder toward him. "Do you see a problem?"

Ferrigo breathed deeply with a deeply satisfied smile. "You're the brains, Raalee. What is it?" Ferrigo kissed Raalee's lekku tenderly.

"He will want you to be around. We know that won't work for either of us. Can you send encrypted holo recordings?

"I will." Ferrigo sighed. "I am there for you and Reggar, as much as I can be. You just need to let me know."

After his parents dressed in sleepwear, Raalee and Ferrigo both tucked in Reggar with kisses and hugs. "My daddy! I'll be the safest boy in the galaxy. And someday I wanna be just like you. Reggar Velrrus! Bounty hunter." Reggar looked at his mom. "And pirate. I can do both, can't I?"

"You have to ask your dad, Reggar," Raalee shrugged. "I think he does both from time to time."

"Yes, I have," Ferrigo sighed and smiled. "But mostly I do bounties and run companies to make honest money."

"Do the companies make a lot of honest money doing races?" Reggar asked.

"Well, no, Reggar." Ferrigo opened his hands. "Running a company means operating it. Making it work. Operating a company takes some smarts. The kind of smarts you, me and your mommy have. We make stuff or do things for other people's money that won't get us in trouble with the law. That's the honest part."

"Oh. I think I'll just stick to being a bounty hunter and pirate then."

"Being a bounty hunter and mercenary is hard living, son. Even part time. I just spent most of a year in a prison and as a slave because I was captured at the end of a war."

"You were in a war?" Reggar asked excitedly. "Hode Hair-On, you are the best dad ever!"

Ferrigo slightly shook his head. "I've been in quite a few. It's not glamorous or heroic, son. Some people are peaceful and need protection from violent people who would enslave them."

"Why don't you stay and protect us, dad?" Reggar's eyes widened with sorrow. "Mommy was a slave once."

Ferrigo turned slightly to Raalee. "I know. Someday maybe we'll talk about it more. Your mom is a very special woman. She deserves to be free, like you and me. She knows how to protect you."

"But you're my dad." Reggar seemed saddened.

Ferrigo tightened his lips. "But, nobody can know that I am your dad, Reggar."

"Wwwhhyyy, daddy?" Reggar seemed ready to cry. "Aren't you proud of me?"

"Oh, yes, son. I am extremely proud of you. But, if people knew, son, they'd come after you and your mom. Trying to get to me. So that I wouldn't bring them in."

"Reggar Eenier, it's time for bed, young man." Raalee kissed him again and stood up.

Ferrigo smiled. "Reggar Eenier sounds like a pretty fearsome name. Wouldn't want to cross a barve named Reggar." Ferrigo kissed his son's forehead. "Sleep tight, my boy. I'm a lucky dad."

"Think so, dad? Really?" Reggar laid down and pulled up his blanket with a big smile on his face. "Dad. Make me a brother, okay?"

Ferrigo inhaled deeply. "Good night, Reggar. Dream well, my son."

He left the cabin for the salon. A few minutes later, Raalee joined him.

Raalee looked at Ferrigo. "Do you see a problem?"

"Moments like that make me want to quit everything, park this ship on a farm and raise a large family of kids with you. Kids like our son."

"I know. That was very sweet." Raalee took a deep breath. "But we both know that you have another destiny."

"What do you mean, Raalee?" Ferrigo grunted. Could she read his mind, too?

"Your visions. I do keep in touch with the other girls. Just because I'm a pirate doesn't mean we're not still sisters, of a sort."

"Who told you?" Ferrigo took Raalee's arms into his hands.

Raalee tightened up for half a minute and finally sobbed. "Aallys. She contacted me when you two were getting married. I was a little jealous, but happy for you both. She told me about your visions. She put them aside as bad dreams. Bekkah also thought they were bad dreams. I can't do that. I respect your power. Your power with the spirits. The serpents."

"What do you mean?" Ferrigo was slightly hurt.

"I trust that there is truth in your visions. You never talked to me about them, though I'm not sure why. And I don't want to stand in their path. I feared that Aallyss'anada did that. She ignored the visions. Much as I love you, Schingo, I am okay with you having a future where I do not interfere."

"What about the knee to the groin?" Ferrigo was incredulous. "That was interference."

She smiled. "Give me a break, Schingo. I once wanted you all to myself. I had to get that out of my system, didn't I? And I kissed it and made it all better, right?"

They shared a laugh and after a snack and drink went back to Raalee's quarters to sleep.

Family Time
Ferrigo escorted Raalee and Reggar into his Nar Shaddaa Corellian Sector apartment while Rolen and the rest of the crew stayed in the Corellian District at a hotel for a few weeks. To avoid surprises and cultural misunderstandings, Ferrigo had explained that a few Swokes Swokes of the Dokes family were living in the apartment along with Deevee-Eight and Wait-For, his trusted droids. And many serpents of various colors and sizes called schingas. The serpents slowly slithered across various surfaces in the home. Except in the master suite, where Ferrigo took Raalee and Reggar after having a brief conversation with Deeza and Yokee Dokes.

"Wow, Dad. Are those schingas how you got your name?" Reggar asked as he gripped his mother's leg.

"You could say that," Ferrigo turned and smiled as he gathered some clothing. "By the way, there are no schingas in here. If you don't mind, I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay, Dad." Reggar looked up at his mother. "Those Dokes are pretty scary looking. Like nightmares and things."

"Reggar Eenier." Raalee scolded their son gently. "Be nice. They are very nice...beings."

Ferrigo started the shower and began to wash up and he was soon joined by Raalee and Reggar. He chuckled and smiled. Reggar asked many questions about his father's and mother's anatomy, and Ferrigo and Raalee explained as best they could without laughing. They helped clean each other's backs and washed themselves otherwise. Ferrigo caressed Raalee's lekku as he washed them, which made her smile and bite her lip, but he refrained from going further with his desire. She was, as a voluptuous woman, even more gorgeous in his eyes than when she was younger. His body responded to her stimulation as she rubbed his neck and sides. She reached around to his front to wash his stomach.

"Wow. Dad. That's growing. Wow." Reggar stared at Ferrigo.

"You have one too, son."

"I go to the 'fresher to use it. But mine don't do that." Reggar pointed. "Why's it doing that growing? So big?"

Ferrigo bit his lip and looked at Raalee. She bit her lip as she looked around at Ferrigo's gifts, shook her head, and sighed. "Hundreds of questions with you, Reggar. Let your father be."

"Can you wash my tchun-tchin like you did mom's, dad?"

"Absolutely, my boy."

They spent next two weeks together in the apartment, tended to by Lennie the servant droid, Ku-Kee the culinary droid, Deevee-Eight and Chesker. Raalee and Ferrigo talked about the past several years and made love often, when Reggar was asleep or engrossed in tutorials offered by the droids.

His pirate mistress and mother of their son took care to see that Ferrigo ate frequently and exercised in his workout room, returning him to strength. Ferrigo did show Reggar some basic self-defense moves and taught him more Mando'a words and phrases. He also shared some tips with Raalee on how to stay ahead of pursuit and evade capture.

"You're going to teach me about avoiding capture?" Raalee grinned.

"Hey, sometimes I like to be captured." Ferrigo retorted.

"Like now?"

"Yes. I can't tell you how happy I am right now." He smiled at his beautiful green Twi'lek lover.

Ferrigo's nourishment back to health was almost complete. Raaleena'warlaan's love brought his spirit back around, and her careful medical treatment of his wounds with bacta had most of his scars fading away.

Farewell
"Helegas," Ferrigo, wearing a casual outfit with a bantha hide jacket covering a holstered right-handed Taddie blaster looked into Raalee's blue eyes. "I will keep in touch."

They stood at the foot of the ramp to the freighter Raalee called Her Own. Raalee sighed and bit her lip as she held Reggar's hand. Ferrigo bent down and picked up his son.

"Reggar, you do as your mother tells you. Or I'll put a bounty on you." Ferrigo teased.

"Daddy." Reggar pouted and fidgeted. "I want to stay with you. No bounty on me. We bounty on bad spacers. Like Hondo."

Ferrigo smiled. "Not sure your mom would like that. You have to be trained for it." Prosstang glanced at Raalee as she slightly shook her head. "We need you to be safe, son."

"Do people who love each other always stay away from each other?" Reggar looked at his father and then mother.

Raalee bit her finger and inhaled as she held back tears. "Son, Schingo has to go. And so do we. We have to make a few deliveries and then leave for home."

"I will be checking on you, Reggar Eenier. You are a son to be proud of. And I am very proud." Ferrigo lowered Reggar to his feet after giving him a squeeze, and then he hugged Raaleena'warlaan. "I'm proud of both of you. You have a great mom, son. Be good to her. I love you both."

"We love you, Redar Velrrus." Raalee touched her right hand above her ample chest and held Reggar's hand with her left hand.

"Returcye mhi," Ferrigo said as he held back his own tears. "Until we meet again."

"Red urge you me." Reggar repeated. "Until we meet again, boo-eer. Buir."

Ferrigo chuckled, turned and walked with DV8 and R4-W8 to a waiting speeder. Within the half hour, Ferrigo was back at the Corellian Sector apartment where Dhettos Kuporr awaited him.

The Almost Willing
Dhettos Kuporr,  looked up from the desk where he appeared to have finished eating a snack while reading several datapads spread before him. "You needed me?"

Ferrigo wore a set of coveralls with a mask that covered his entire face that he donned from the entry coat closet. He lifted and stroked several of the schinga that approached him before he set them back down. He nodded. "Business trip. I need the presence of Schingo Velrrus. While I handle business, you'll make it easier for me to get what I'm looking for."

"Which is?" Dhettos asked plainly.

"Not yet. You have some basic training to go through."

"Oh?" Dhettos looked around. "Notice the serpents aren't all over me?"

"Elek, ner vod." Ferrigo gestured. "Before, I just needed you to pose, walk and talk. This time, you will need to participate more actively."

"Melaa told me no killing. I don't kill, Velrrus." Dhettos shifted back in the chair to regard Ferrigo.

"I don't think it will get to that, Dhettos." Ferrigo paused. "But if it does, you need to be prepared to defend yourself."

Dhettos shook his head. "I don't do danger. I have a wife and farm to take care of at Rhell'cyok."

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "You're gonna face danger someday. Might as well learn how to deal with it from one of the best." Prosstang walked over toward Dhettos. "Get your shebs out of the seat. Time to get ready for training. Need you in good, fit shape. If you don't get out of that chair and head for that door, right now, I'll drag your shebs to Dxun for training."

Dhettos stood up and moved from the chair.

"You'll be paid very handsomely, Kuporr. The Prosstangs won't even levy a tax on the earnings you make for this job." Ferrigo spread his hands. "In fact, we're going to be retrieving something for them, in a way."

"Yeah." Dhettos moved toward the fitness suite and retorted with sarcasm. "This sounds better and better every minute."

Training The Reluctant Warrior
The primary star was setting. Ferrigo ran in one of several spare supercommando armor sets he had. The armor was lighter and less durable than the beskar'gam he normally wore and the systems were non-functional. Dhettos, wearing similar armor, tried to keep up with him.

"Glance. Tuck. Roll. Lift. Fire. Run and fire." Ferrigo demonstrated a rather difficult sequence of moves in the clattering armor that Dhettos actually showed some ability in execution during his own run at the exercise. "Good! Good. Kandosii, ner vod!"

It had almost been a full two weeks since Ferrigo had bid Raalee and Reggar farewell. Dhettos and Ferrigo had left Nar Shaddaa with Wait-For, Deevee-Eight and Chesker a week earlier for Taskeed. They camped and trained in the historic Pentakus Crater, said by the datapad history module to have been created by a large Tionese weapon used by Xim the Despot over twenty-five thousand years before. The Serpent's Pride was not far from their training camp. While Dhettos set himself to the fierce regimen of fitness and skills training, Ferrigo took a few moments to communicate with Deevee-Eight.

"Deevee-Eight?" Ferrigo chirped into his headset. "I need you and the guys to look into the records of ownership here on Taskeed. I want to know who I need to handle to get this crater declared an off-limits monument. I also want to get readings on the geology of this planetary sector. I want to go down into the crust. Contact Prosstang Mining. Find out if there are surplus core sample and excavation droids available."

"Yes, sir." His protocol droid was efficient. "Brilliant Chemicals Company, I presume?"

"Yes," Ferrigo continued. "Provide no information to anyone about the nature of these requests. Just make a reasonable offer to lease adjusted from past contracts. No ties, Deevee."

"Anything else, sir?" the protocol droid intoned.

"Yes. Get Heddo and the crew together and send them to Galidraan. They will need to bring a shipment of medicines with them. Mostly wound and pain treatment. Enough to make a good show of charity for an initial business call."

"Sir. I've received repeated contacts from Miss Iggerina on Onderon. Seems she is restless and has need for additional...contacts." Deevee-Eight's voice concerned Ferrigo.

"Contacts?" Ferrigo asked. The Mandalorian thought for a few counts. "Nevermind. Have her get her shebs on a shuttle to link up with Heddo, Terggol and Lu'chen. And Chodo. Tell Heddo that he can work out the details with the team. Miss Bacha needs to wear nice clothes for cooler weather."

"Yes, sir. I will report when finished, Master Velrrus."

"No worries, Deevee," Ferrigo looked around in the dark, under the stars. "We'll be in the ship in the morning."

After another night of camping in cold weather, Ferrigo scrambled Dhettos awake and had him break down camp in less than ten minutes by himself. Both men hauled the camp gear back to the rear ramp of the ship.

Less than an hour later, The Serpent's Pride was heading on course for the Galidraan system.

Not At Any Price (43 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I appreciate your guidance, Governor. I’m sure that I’ll find it useful.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Your kinsman, Tor Vizsla suggested it, Krotell. Follow my lead, and you will learn to govern. Somewhere else.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Certainly.” 

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Prag Krotell, special aide to the Governor of Galidraan, and the Governor talk about the arranged tutelage requested by Galidraan’s hired protection force.

A Burning Vision
Ferrigo, wearing a pale purple jumpsuit and mask, looked at Deevee-Eight toward the front and right of his commander's chair. Wait-For was plugged in to the astrogation system. Chesker sat in the seat to the front left of Ferrigo. Dhettos sat to the left near the flight deck communications center.

"Why are you not wearing your armor, Boss?" Chesker asked in his dripping voice.

"We have to go get the armor, Chesker," Dhettos said calmly, as he wore a pale yellow jumpsuit and mask.

Deevee-Eight turned his head to the left to see Ferrigo looking at the nav holo station in front of his seat. "Master Velrrus has other things on his mind, Chesker."

Wait-For beeped, booped, and cooed.

"By the way, sir," DV8 continued. "Taskeed was once within the Tionese Hegemony, and the crater was the result of a rather-"

"Got that part from the datapad history module, Deevee," Ferrigo interrupted. "What about the current situation on Taskeed? Isn't it in Hutt Space?"

"Actually, Master Velrrus, it was in Hutt Space from the time of the Great Shadow Crusade and its liberation from Tion rule by Ulic Qel-Droma," the protocol droid's visual receptor dots moved to regard Ferrigo.

"From history," Dhettos interjected with a question. "Wasn't that the Sith Lord that commanded Mandalore the Indomitable?"

Ferrigo rubbed his chin. "Interesting. Go on."

"Yes, Master Kuporr. In fact, it was most likely that Taskeed was taken by Te Kandosii Mand'alor." DV8 turned his seat toward Ferrigo. "The Hutts withdrew their security, and investment as recently as eight years ago. All that remains is an independent spaceport at Yefowr and scattered palaces. Some derelict. Others not."

"Governments, centralized, federated, independent?"

"None to speak of, sir." The protocol droid spread his hands and shifted slightly.

"Land records?" Ferrigo squinted his right eye and gripped the seatback of the commander's chair.

"Those would be with the Hutts, Master Velrrus."

Ferrigo stood up straight. "I'm going to head to my quarters. Wait-For. The bridge is yours. Deevee, provide Dhettos with some cultural background on Galidraan."

Wait-For squeaked, toodled and chirped proudly.

"I'm not cleaning anything, Wait-For." Chesker folded his arms.

"Me neither." Deevee-Eight folded his arms and gazed forward into the blue gaseous funnel of hyperspace travel. "Such an amazing view."

Ferrigo closed the door to his quarters at the aft of the ship. He looked to the desk and sighed. After he removed his outer garments, he turned down the light levels to minimal and laid down under the covers of his bed and fell asleep.

He dreamt of Mandalore. Again. Balls of flame. Large bolts of energy slammed and pierced the Sundari dome, numerous cube cities and fortresses outside of the Excision Zone. Familiar apartment buildings that peered over the Royal Gardens at Sundari. Bombardment. The dome broken open, winds bore coarse white sand throughout the majestic city. Hundreds of people were blown apart with each intense burst of laser energy. Ferrigo then sensed that he was at the top level of the Prosstang Castle standing on the balcony looking north toward the Prosstang Palace. With dread he gazed upon several gigantic, wedge-shaped capital ships that hovered slowly through clouds a few kilometers above the surface. Each ship as large as Prosstang Town. Beams and pulses of energy tore at the landscape in the distance until the bombardment fragmented buildings with violent explosions around the perimeter of the New Town. People seeming so small in the distance scattered in terror through the streets both within and outside of the city wall.

-We will survive, Mandalore.- The soft, feminine voice of the blonde-haired green-eyed goddess caressed and soothed his mind.

He suddenly saw his father chasing his mother, who burned in flames as she ran from the entrance to the Prosstang Palace. Hod Ha'ran! Upper levels of the Palace collapsed after a series of explosions ripped and twisted the framing from the bombardment by two of the capital ships using their turbolasers. A sortie of small craft. Fighters of some sort. Two flat panels on either side of a pointed fuselage. These fighters strafed the inhabitants of Prosstang with blaster fire and set many buildings alight in flame. Ferrigo screamed silently as he saw his parents lay on the ground in flames.

He turned with tears in his eyes to see a handsome pale green adult male Twi'lek standing near him, wearing a set of Mandalorian shocktrooper armor roughly painted purple with yellow trim. A customized helmet under his left arm. His lekku were long, wrapped about his neck. He seemed proud and sorrowful. Ferrigo noticed that a young Twi'lek girl with pale peach skin stood to the right side of the adult male. She wore a loose-fitting pale purple jumpsuit.

-''Ana. This was ours. We will need to find your grandfather''.-

Ferrigo felt that he was falling or flying into a deep cavern, but avoided its walls as it curved, rose, and dropped. He saw the young, blonde woman with green eyes as she gazed at him intently. She sat on a throne. Smiling.

-Your destiny awaits.-

Ferrigo snapped upward to a sitting position from his sleep and looked around his quarters.

A Company Call
"So sorry, sir. The caf maker is being repaired as we speak. Chesker seems to think that perhaps one of the Dokes mistakenly interpreted its use to be better suited to-" Deevee-Eight was interrupted.

Wait-For chittered, brapped and whooped.

"Well, don't tell me what is and what is not appropriate to speak of, Wait-For. I am the protocol expert here, and can suitably inform Master Velrrus of the implications-"

"What on Dxun are you two talking about?" Ferrigo ran his hands through his shoulder-length hair and pulled it back behind his ears.

Chesker marched into the flight deck area. "One of the Swokes Swokes used the caf pot for a-"

Ferrigo interrupted, holding up his finger. "Yehdehdepdahdep! Nevermind, Chesker. Am I going to get caf today, or not?"

"Well, Master Velrrus, I-"

"Yes or no?"

"Well, sir, I was going to tell you tha-"

"YES. NO. Yes. Or. No. That's it, Chesker." Ferrigo growled.

"Yes, sir." Chesker saluted. "Coming right up."

Minutes later, Ferrigo sipped from the cup of caf he was handed, then looked at Chesker dubiously. "Not bad. Interesting." Ferrigo grinned and yawned.

Wait-For beeped and chittered.

"Well, I'm sure you'd have a different opinion, Wait-For." Ferrigo glanced at his astromech. "By the way, how are we doing with our nav plan?"

R4-W8 issued a series of beeps, toots, twitters and ticks.

"I'd better go get changed into my business attire, then." Ferrigo stood up and finished his caf. "Where's Dhettos?"

"Sleeping, I believe. Will you be needing any of us to join you, sir?" Deevee-Eight queried.

"Deevee, you will be joining me. I expect that Wait-For will be spending a good amount of time with Dhettos, pouring through the databank searching for my sets of beskar'gam when he can sneak away. I'm going in as Chonn Dekker, executive sales director of the Brilliant Chemical Company. We are on Galidraan to explore the possibilities of doing business with the Governor."

"What about meeee, sir?" Chesker put his claws on his hips. "I can help carry heavy things, remember? Things like a suit of armor." The maintenance droid seemed to puff its torso forward.

"Okay. You have a point, Chesker. You'll be with Dhettos and Wait-For." Ferrigo regarded the small bipedal droid and looked around the flight deck before heading back to his quarters to change outfits. "All of you remember. I'm Chonn Dekker. Executive sales director for Brilliant Chemicals. Dhettos is a technician named Burrl Boh'batts."

Ferrigo returned wearing a thigh-length red frock coat with black slacks and a black shirt. He had his brown hair pulled back into a single tail. The coat had insignias on the shoulder boards that indicated the trademark of the Brilliant Chemical Company. Dhettos walked in wearing dark red technician's overalls.

Wait-For beeped and chirped loudly.

"What is it, my friend?" Ferrigo walked over to the navigation station. Prosstang tilted his head slightly puzzled as he looked at a signal that showed up on the navigation screen. "Turn the ship around, half-speed, around, Wait-For."

"Sir, where are we going?" Deevee-Eight chimed.

"Yeah," Dhettos added. "Where are we going?"

"Wait-For found a transponder, Deevee. Special frequency. Military craft, back in the woods we passed a minute ago." Ferrigo walked back to the commander's chair and sat down. He held the flight and weapon controls in his hands. "Transfer control to commander's chair, Wait-For." Ferrigo and turned the ship in a wide rightward arc heading back into the direction of the mid-morning primary starlight and back.

He gazed at the screen panel in front of him.

"What is it?" Dhettos asked.

"Deevee," Ferrigo said urgently as he tapped several buttons on the screen. "Open channel on the secure frequency I've just entered."

"Yes, sir." The protocol droid shifted in his seat.

"Secure cargo. Prepare for collection two hours. Repeat. Secure cargo. Prepare for collection. Two hours. Dropped cargo at the coordinates I'm entering." Ferrigo tapped several keys.

Static filled the speakers.

Ferrigo sat back from the panel and looked at DV8. "Close channel." Prosstang then looked to Dhettos. "Hope they got the message."

"Who?" Kuporr asked.

"Old comrades, from Mirshe Company."

Merel City & Iggy Revisited
Another twenty minutes later, after providing the port authorization code, The Serpent's Pride, operating under the transponder identity of Nightshade landed in the outskirts of Merel City. Ferrigo shook his head and smiled, seeing that the damage had not been entirely repaired to the nearby spaceport. The ships had likely been removed, but the structure of the spaceport itself looked unkempt. The communication tower appeared to have been replaced, but many parts of Merel City, and the Merelandes Region showed the scars of the conflict that was fought less than a year before.

"Looks like this place has been in a war." Dhettos remarked.

"It was," Ferrigo walked toward the back, and Dhettos followed as Prosstang went down the stairs to the cargo deck. "Almost a year ago. Remember the briefing. Not too much chit chat."

Dhettos nodded. "Got it."

The rear door hatch opened. Ferrigo pulled down his new, black durafelt hat tightly on his head. The hat was round, with a medium-brim and flat-top. He turned to Dhettos, nodded and then strode down the ramp to the short grass. He took a look around the patrol ship.

From the spaceport and a familiar Corellian Engineering Corporation YV-330 freighter, three figures walked toward The Serpent's Pride.

"Terggol and Lu'chen will be delivering some goods for one of the businesses I have interest in."

"Who is that...woman?" Dhettos asked as Terggol, Lu'chen and Iggerina neared. "Iggerina Bacha." Ferrigo muttered. "Be careful."

The Klatooinian spoke first. "Well, you have something for us?"

Ferrigo responded. "I'm Chonn Dekker. Brilliant Chemicals executive sales director." Prosstang turned his right thumb to point at Dhettos. "This is Burrl Boh'batts, one of our technicians. You have a passenger that is a staff person that Mr. Velrrus instructed I am supposed to train on-the-job. Iggerina Chaaba?"

The dark-skinned human female wearing a jumpsuit with her hair pulled into several banded tails stepped from behind Lu'chen. She wore bright green eye make-up and red lipstick. "That's Bacha."

Dhettos looked at the gathering, then turned to Ferrigo.

Ferrigo pointed to Iggerina Bacha. "You're coming with us, Ms. Bacha. I'll be showing you the ropes."

"Good. Very good," she smiled. "I like ropes."

The Klatooinian and Nikto both smiled slightly.

"Burrl, you'll help these fellows make the delivery, provide technical assisstance." Ferrigo winked. "We'll meet up at the Governor's Castle in two hours. Keep your channels open."

Dhettos, Lu'chen and Terggol headed back toward the spaceport.

Ferrigo noticed Iggerina puckering her lips as she looked around. "Let's go, Ms. Bacha." Ferrigo closed the ramp and hatch door.

"You smell good." Iggerina said. "Like a man I knew back in the day."

"Up the steps here, Ms. Bacha."

She followed Ferrigo's guidance into a crew quarters.

"There are appropriate clothes in here for a sales representative of Brilliant Chemicals Company." Ferrigo said plainly.

She turned to look at him. "I know you're Schingo, baby. You don't like this outfit?" Bacha turned to accentuate her curved derriere.

"Ms. Bacha," Ferrigo scolded. "You have a job to do. As do I. Mr. Velrrus assigned us to establish a business relationship with the Governor of Galidraan so that our products could make it into this market by year's end. I'm the pitch and the facts. You're the smiles."

The woman turned and rubbed her hand around the front of Ferrigo's red frock coat below the waist. "You know, it's been a long time since I've had a treat."

"Ms. Bacha, back off, please." Ferrigo said cooly. "We have to get going to the Burg Kiesl."

"Fine."

"See you on the bridge when you're finished getting changed." Ferrigo turned and made his way for the bridge.

On his arrival, DV8 turned his head. "Master...Chonn Dekker."

"Yes, what is it droid?" Ferrigo changed his tone somewhat.

Wait-For booped and tweeted, turning his conical head toward Ferrigo and then Chesker. Chesker turned his optical sensor to look at Ferrigo.

"The loose cargo, sir," the protocol droid turned again to regard Ferrigo. "Shall we return to it directly?"

"No, droid. After our stop at Burg Kiesl. All of you will have jobs to do when we arrive at the castle. You with me, the other two meet with Burrl Boh'batts as instructed earlier."

Wait-For chirped, beeped, tweeted and booped as he turned to regard the astronavigation station.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dekker, sir." DV8 responded officiously.

"Well," the dusky Iggerina Bacha walked into the flight deck and growled flippantly. "We ready or what?"

"Remember, Ms. Bacha. Smooth." Ferrigo cautioned. "This is the chief executive of the planetary government of Galidraan we're meeting."

"What's your name again?" she squinted and cocked her head to the right.

"Chonn Dekker." Ferrigo said drily. "Executive sales director. Your boss."

The pair walked toward the rear of the patrol craft, followed by DV8. An airspeeder met them thirty meters from the end of the ramp, and lifted from the soft, moist grass after the protocol droid was seated within the passenger compartment.

The Graces of Galidraan
Their arrival was accompanied by a young and tall, lanky male with short blonde hair and a trimmed mustache and beard. "Welcome to Burg Kiesl, Mr. Dekker and Ms. Bacha, is it?"

"Yes," Iggerina offered her hand as the young male held and kissed it.

"Pleasure is mine," the young man straightened back to full height, slightly shorter than Ferrigo. "I'm Prag Krotell. Chief Aide to the Governor. He's expecting you in the Great Hall." With his blue eyes glancing at Ferrigo's, recognition was certain in that moment.

Galaar. Prag Krotell?

"Well, we have certainly looked forward to discussing opportunities for providing our Brilliant products on Galidraan," Ferrigo smiled as he shook Krotell's hand. "We hope the conflict that we've heard about hasn't impacted secured freight shipment. We do everything we can to ensure that our shipments make it to our clients."

The small group including DV8 walked along the courtyard landing platform to a modestly ornamented stone entrance to the castle's upper levels. Krotell explained some of the artwork staged on tables or hanging on the walls of the Burg as he purported to lead them to the Great Hall. "Your employer has excellent taste in antiquities and paintings," Ferrigo said as he glanced around the hall. "I've heard about a large tapestry that details the ancient history of Galidraan, including its brief time in Xim's Empire prior to the formation of the Republic. I should enjoy to see that renowned work."

"You're well-educated man, Mr. Dekker." Krotell said over his shoulder as they continued across the threshold into the Great Hall. "But a bit late. Unfortunately, during the insurrection last year, the tapestry was significantly damaged."

"Wow. This place is amazing." Iggerina gasped. "So huge. And majestic, and things."

Ferrigo glanced with barely disguised derision at his employee.'' Be calm. Let her charming ignorance work for the cause.''

"Indeed, it is." Prag Krotell turned and stopped before opening his hands and spreading them. "May I get some refreshments for you both before the Governnor is available?"

"Do you have Corellian wine?" Ferrigo asked.

Krotell grinned. "A little early for wine, isn't it?"

"Well, you're the native Galidraanian here," Ferrigo smiled with a hint of sarcasm. "Refresh us appropriately, then, please."

The tall young man walked away from them toward a solid wood cabinet. He was the same size as Galaar. He wasn't sure about the walk. But a haircut and beard-trim had the young man looking the role of respectable bureaucrat.

Ferrigo spoke softly with his head turned slightly. "Deevee-Eight. I need you to jam the outbound comm traffic from the Burg. And tell the team to get active. Get on that now." Ferrigo turned to Iggerina and whispered. "Ms. Bacha, I want you to keep Krotell's attention. Distract him as much as you can. Asking to see more art, whatever you need to do. Full press with your charms."

"Full press." Bacha looked at Ferrigo incredulously, with her chin lowered. "You serious?"

"Serious."

"Makin' his babies?" Iggerina winced and shook her head.

"Your call. I suggest more discretion." Ferrigo sighed. "Just keep his attention firmly divided and away from me and the Governor."

"Fine." Bacha sighed loudly as Krotell finished preparing drinks. "You better tap me up when we get done with this."

"What?" Ferrigo puzzled.

"You better gimme that snake when we're done. Gonna eat that big thing up and keel it. Better be ready for a long night, Schingo."

Ferrigo cleared his throat as Bacha turned to face Prag Krotell and their refreshments. "Thank you, Mr. Krotell."

"Thanks, Mr. Krotell." Iggerina said softly.

The three of them sipped from their drinks. "Do you like?" Krotell asked politely.

"Very well prepared, Krotell." Ferrigo raised his glass and exchanged glances with Krotell, and then his dark-skinned assistant. "My assistant was asking me a moment ago if you might escort her to the lavatory. I'll wait here for the Governor."

Krotell drank the rest of his drink in a rather unusual display of urgency. A gasp escaped the young man's lips, a short rivulet of the liquid dropped from his sharply-trimmed, blonde beard. "Fine. Please join me, young lady." Soon they were gone from the Great Hall.

Ferrigo removed a tiny electronic device from his right side coat pocket, activated it, and tucked it into his right ear as he pulled another small rectangular device from his left pocket. He pushed a few buttons. "Delivery status."

In his right ear he heard Dhettos Kuporr. "Checking the bill of lading. Seems both products are in the hold. Pleased?"

"Very." Ferrigo inhaled. "Let me know when you've secured the products for return. Will be busy upstairs with talks. Dekker out."

Ferrigo tapped a button with his left thumb and put the device back into his coat pocket.

"Hello, Mister....Dekker?" The Governor of Galidraan approached. "Where is my aide, Mr. Krotell?"

Ferrigo took a breath. "Hello, Your Honor. I believe he is showing my assistant to the powder room."

"Well." The Governor bit his lip slightly and looked about him. "Shall we talk?"

"Absolutely, Your Honor." Ferrigo walked with the Governor toward a long table, where they sat across one of the corners from each other. "We at Brilliant Chemicals would very much like to establish a trade partnership with Galidraan. Our product areas and lines are incomparably priced, and of the quality that you will find among the industry leaders."

"So, you'd like to establish a hold in our market," the Governor put his fingertips together. "We would expect commitments. Long-term. Your competitors seem to feel the opportunity is worth their consideration."

"We of course want to watch our bottom line," Ferrigo gazed into the Governor's eyes. "But with favorable terms, we will provide your economy with a robust kick that it seems to need."

"Our economy is recovering, Mr. Dekker. Doing fine without Brilliant Chemicals," the Governor paused, and tapped his fingertips on the table. "You'd have to sweeten the numbers, or accept a tariff on your goods."

A loud female moan was heard in the hall from some distance. In his right ear, Ferrigo heard a soft voice. "Products are now inventoried. Burrl out." More loud moans erupted in the distance. Ferrigo tightened his lips and leveled his brow as he looked at artworks across the Great Hall.

The Governor began to stand from his chair, a look of concern on his face. Ferrigo glanced at him. "I believe my assistant has found the refreshment a bit loosening." Ferrigo waved his flat hand downward, and urged the Governor to sit as he smiled. "Don't worry, she'll come around."

"Let's go to the balcony," the Governor said, disturbed. "We can have some quiet."

"It's beautiful out here," Ferrigo said as he gazed at the changing colors of the leaves of deciduous trees that spread over hills and plateaus below the balcony aerie. Ferrigo glanced momentarily over his left shoulder at the large stained glass window bays that less than a year before had their windows destroyed during his escape with Crack-Shot Ordo, and Jango Fett's solo escape. "Galidraan would be in consideration for siting a Brilliant Chemicals manufacturing plant. Thousands of jobs."

"You have my interest. But is this your CEO speaking, or is this your hard sell to open our retail market for your company's products?" the Governor glanced at Ferrigo and his black hat. "You see, Mr. Dekker, I can make this happen. I can get the land development approval process started. As soon as your CEO signs an investment agreement."

"We haven't located a site yet, Governor, and we'd need your assurance that we hold the prime spot in negotiating government contracts here, and in the system." Ferrigo opened his hands for a moment and then placed them back on the balcony rail.

"That might be challenging," the Governor eyed Ferrigo. "But if Brilliant wants in, have your board provide the details. We can help identify locations in the process."

"This sounds like a step toward a mutually-beneficial partnership, Governor." Ferrigo smiled and looked squarely at the thin, opulently-robed man.

"Indeed it does," the Governor smiled slightly.

"We agree in principle, then. I will have the Chairman of the Board contact you at his nearest convenience." Ferrigo joined the Governor in walking toward the door to the Great Hall.

"Indeed," the Governor turned. "Ah. Krotell. Glad to see that you could be part of the meeting. And Miss..."

"Bacha." Iggerina said shyly. She looked flush to Ferrigo, and he restrained himself from smiling.

Ferrigo interrupted. "Ms. Bacha. I'm sure you'll have much to tell me when we return to our shuttle. You missed our discussion."

Krotell shifted his stance and sighed after a short cough. "So, you have come to an agreement, Governor?"

"We are close, my aide." The Governor smiled.

"Thank you, Governor. A good day to both of you." Ferrigo said politely, and took Iggerina Bacha gently with his right hand at her waist toward their shuttle. "That's a nice, tasteful brooch you have, Ms. Bacha."

"Allow me to escort you," the young blonde haired male seemed a bit flushed in his face. "That's a gift, from the Royal House of Galidraan, Mr. Dekker. Ms. Bacha is truly inspired by the arts, and we wish to leave a lasting impression with her. Now, I want you to both enjoy the art from a different perspective." The young man talked about each of the main works as they approached. For the second time, in some cases.

Ferrigo queried. "Ms. Bacha, did you not get enough art the first time through?"

She glanced at Ferrigo after confirming that Prag Krotell was not looking. She smiled and shook her head slightly.

Ferrigo returned a smile. Soon they approached their shuttle, and DV8 stood at attention waiting for them. Ferrigo waited for Iggerina to receive her hand-kiss from Prag Krotell, and that his protocol business droid had settled into his seat.

"Good day, Mr. Dekker. Ms. Bacha." Krotell nodded, turned and walked back toward the castle entrance as the shuttle lifted and spun slowly to face away from the dense stone structures before thrusting forward, around and downward toward the village below the Burg Kiesl.

A Scoop of Stragglers
Within a few minutes, Ferrigo, Iggerina and DV8 were inside The Serpent's Pride.

Ferrigo looked to Iggerina. "Get some sleep. You look like you need it."

"Thanks a lot," she smiled. "That boy got game."

After she turned around and closed the door to her quarters, Ferrigo shook his head and ascended to the flight deck. The ship lifted from the ground and moved slowly, its engines lumbering as it cleared a bank of evergreen trees.

"We have success, Velrrus." Dhettos Kuporr smiled. "The armor is locked in the ship's secure storage compartment."

Ferrigo sat down in the commander's seat. He turned to Dhettos. "The delivery?"

"Without a hitch, Terggol said." Kuporr looked at the panel to his left and shifted his swiveling chair to face it directly. "They are headed back to Nar Shaddaa."

"We've got a pickup," Ferrigo stood from his seat. "Deevee, Wait-For. Scan the ship." Prosstang glanced at Dhettos. "Hang tight."

Ferrigo pulled out his small holdout blaster and carefully descended the steps to the cargo deck. He looked to the short staircase to the crew's quarters where he left Iggerina. He looked around and approached the secured compartment. He unlocked it with his passkey and his thumb imprint on the reader pad. Inside, he saw two piles of armor. He placed the red helmet over his head. "Ferrigo Prosstang." His HUD activated. Over the next few minutes he checked his HUD and comm systems. He talked on a secure channel with Deevee-Eight, Wait-For, and Chesker.

"Keep an eye on Dhettos. Check the scans of the ship for any extra electronic activity. And I want full reports in text for my HUD on the other team members. Performance. Anything notable. Out of place. Well done. Anything."

"Sir. Wait-For has scanned the ship. No external source tracking features have been activated." Deevee-Eight assured.

"Any of the ship's features activated that would provide a trace to pursuit craft?" Ferrigo asked firmly.

"No, sir. Wait-For says we are not being tracked. But there appears to be a slight anomaly within the ship."

"Okay." Ferrigo took a deep breath. "Change of plans. We're not going to pick up the lost cargo. We head directly for Onderon. And then to Nar Shaddaa."

"Shall I send a transmission to the cargo handlers, sir." Deevee-Eight queried.

"No," Ferrigo lamented. "No can do."

Ferrigo then shut down his HUD. Sorry ner vode.

A Most Precious Spotlight Dance with Voodoo
Ferrigo, several weeks after he returned to Mandalore from Galidraan, collected his dear friend Tyro Kels'mek's remaining beskar'gam pieces, donned his Clan Prosstang beskar'gam and 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 chestplate soon after he entered his good friend's apartment.

They talked of Tyro, and what he had done, what he had wanted to do, in polite discussion. She said 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, two beskar shoulder plates, on the dinette table, holding back his emotions with a thin thread. And memories of Relia.

Relia Kels'mek gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes with her own sparkling blue eyes, then reached up for Ferrigo's neck and brought him down to her for a kiss.

"Voodoo." Ferrigo gasped after parting from their lingering kiss. "No."

"Yes, Schingo," Relia gasped, pulling at his armored vest. "That's what they call you now. You were mine once. My baby. My boy. My man. My love. My Snake. Mine." He was dumbfounded. Ferrigo allowed her to remove his armor from head to toe as she kissed and grasped him passionately.

He murmured No several times, but allowed and assisted Relia in removing his beskar'gam and all else.

Ferrigo could only pant, gasp and cry in the moments, hours, and days that followed, as Voodoo's naked hunger consumed them both. He remembered his passionate love for her. His first love. He even remembered the first time he saw her in the crew shower as a gawking twelve year old. He now showed her the tenderness and virility of his full maturity. And his own hunger.

Her tears frequently mixed with his, her sorrow mixed with outrageous lust, happiness and pleasure. They never put their clothes on for three or more days. Any pose, any action that might have been seen as an invitation to grapple with their wanton lust was taken as granted. Their shared screams wound down a few days later, the refrigerator stock emptied of food and beverage. Emptied bottles of wine from Corellia and Zeltros and finished hors d' oeuvres trays littered the kitchen counter.

"You're the best Ferrigo. Always were. Kad Ha'rangir," Relia gasped, her hair disheveled. "What you do to me."

Ferrigo gathered himself together slowly. And with no small amount of sorrow and guilt for what they had just done and what he could not bring himself to do. He had visions of Tyro Kels'mek. At the Royal University of Galidraan.

"What are you doing, Ferrigo?" Relia frowned. "Get back here. My Snake. My love," she paused and after biting her lip watching him dress with concern. "Ferrigo Schingo Prosstang, will you marry me?"

He continued to dress in his flight suit and armor, pursing his lips tightly as he restrained tears from forming. Slowly, and distractedly he pulled on his boots and zipped them up. With a slight frown, Prosstang then flared out his clan cape over his left shoulder beskar plate.

"Relia," Ferrigo said softly, his lower lip trembling. "I feel like I've dishonored you, and Tyro."

"He wasn't a man anymore, Ferrigo." Relia responded gravely. "Tyro couldn't give me a child. After we butted heads about that, he didn't like my independent streak," she gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes. "He couldn't love me the way you did. He...tore me down."

Ferrigo felt the air leave his lungs. He inhaled deeply and rubbed under his right eye. "You made a choice. You were my first, Voodoo. You knew you were going to marry him. And still you broke my heart." Ferrigo's tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"You dared me," Relia smiled through her own tears. "And I still love you, Snake Prosstang. I made a mistake." Relia Vu'udrel-Kels'mek touched his face and then reached for Ferrigo's hands. "The biggest mistake of my life, baby." She gripped his cape tightly.

"I did too," Ferrigo gasped and sniffed. "I broke the trust of a friend. My best friend. And I've never been able to forgive myself. And now, I've only made matters worse."

"What in the name of Demagol are you talking about?! Tyro Kels'mek envied you! He didn't even have to hear it from me! There were others who talked about your exploits after he and I got married. And your daddy's money! He went on and on about how lucky you were!" her blue eyes were afire in the late-afternoon light cast through the window blinds. "And what a good kid you were! That ONLY made it worse!"

As Ferrigo stood up, she climbed out of her bed still holding his cape. He gasped and unfastened his cape, letting her take its entirety.

"I love you Ferrigo Prosstang. I love you Schingo. I want you to marry me. Make me an honest woman. Start a family with me." Relia pleaded with tears formed in her sparkling blue eyes. "You know I'll make you happy. Only you."

"You shouldn't love me, Relia," Ferrigo held up a finger. "I asked for your love. You were everybody's good time girl. You made your choice. You should be mourning the loss of Tyro Kels'mek." Fully dressed, with a PSAM-Taddie pistol holstered under his jacket, he grabbed his tote bag and slung it over his right shoulder.

"You have outdone me with half of the harlots in the known Universe, but I still love you, Ferrigo," she said finally, holding the cape over her unclothed body. "And he's gone."

Ferrigo bit his lip and sorrowfully shook his head. "I am too." The entry door closed behind him as he departed. He thought he heard her shriek. He continued, leaving Voodoo, his first love. Again. In the afterglow of their desperate grief.

''He did himself in, Relia. Done being played.''

Waiting at the Creaking Door on Concord Dawn
Wearing his beskar'gam, with his helmet visor peering at him from the counter, Ferrigo had put aside lingering thoughts of Relia Kels'mek and their lost connection of almost a year before. Aside from Ferrigo's visit, she had not been seen nor heard from since the Galidraan debacle. He remembered and forgot loves past with the help of a few cups of Mandallian Narcolethe at the Creaking Door Cantina on Concord Dawn. The lighting was rather poor in this dive. And the automated music player had a horrible selection, but Ferrigo was fine with it.

Ferrigo considered that much of the last year had been quiet, with a few tracking jobs performed as Schingo Velrrus, but his work with Prosstang Industries had kept him rather busy. He had spoken with his father and uncle about increasing the size of the security force, and had been granted an expanded budget for recruitment of troopers and had also obtained a fleet of five heavily armed  Corelian Engineering Corporation light freighters.

Reverie at the Hunting Lodges of the Grains Recalled
His thoughts instead drifted to the few weeks he had just spent relaxing with members of the clans Prosstang, Ordo, and Skirata at the Hunting Lodges of the Grains. Arriving just halfway through the annual hunt held there prior to the harvest, as opposed to the hunt held prior to planting, 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 ten kilometers from the hunting lodges. He decapitated the beast with his family's replica of the original darksaber.

His hand reached down reflexively to touch the Pross'kad, now holstered on his left hip, as he drank more of the dark, syrupy liquor. More recent flashbacks played in his mind. The wild partying of the past weekend concluded the hunt, and included many couplings among the unmarried Mandalorians at the gathering in the form of ritual contests of endurance and skill. Ferrigo's participation in these couplings with young female warriors gained him notoriety for his constitution, passion, sensitivity and diversity of techniques.

First Night of the Contest of Clan Breeding
As the older members of each of the host clans selected the initial evening's couplings, based on anticipated suitability and reputations, Ferrigo first tangled with the buxom and heavily-built Malaa Ciryc'iviin of Clan Skirata. She was a veteran of Galidraan who was nicknamed The Anvil. She had an attractive smile and hearty voice. Their veshok bedframe at the Skirata Lodge groaned and cracked after two hours of merciless hammering in a variety of positions that left Ciryc'iviin a crying, shrieking, giggling and shuddering wreck. Ferrigo moaned as he stood from the bed and dried himself off. He tried to walk away, but The Anvil pulled his hips and posterior back and she took a liberal taste of his body. He whooped in surprise at her possession of him, and was soon back on the bed as an object of Malaa Ciryc'iviin's voracious appetite.

Later that first evening, after a course of refreshments and a shower, Prosstang pleasured at the taste of Reeta Ortikan, a plain, quiet maiden of Clan Ordo. He plied her with a much less vigorous effort during the first hour than he had given with The Anvil. After she whispered in Ferrigo's ear with a smile, he removed himself so that she could venture to taste of his gifts. He cradled her and moaned at the veshok panel ceiling of the Ordo Lodge as other couples rutted quietly nearby.

After he shook his head and shouted at her, he stood up and turned her over roughly and soon found young Reeta's target. He plunged, muttered and yelled at his partner a number of phrases and terms of endearment and passion. He gave a hard and fast account of her flesh, as vigorously as he had given The Anvil, and brought Reeta to a wild series of emotional, gut-wrenching releases during the next twenty minutes. The desire and strength of his hands in holding, caressing and positioning her to his whim and mastery of her brought exquisite joy to her face. "Oh my god!" she screamed many times as he yelled only moments before showering her voluminously with his essence. The rest of the Clan Ordo crowd murmured and laughed in amusement as she tasted him again while he squatted over her, uttering precious and bitter whimpers, his legs and stomach trembling.

The gatherings throughout the compound of hunting lodges applauded and cheered each other and made whooping calls, for this was the sport of the last weekend of the hunt. Marriages were often the result of these couplings, and births between the planting and harvest seasons among the Concord Dawn residents and visitors from clans Prosstang, Ordo, and Skirata were common.

The screams and insolent yells of a young woman coming from the Clan Prosstang Lodge intrigued Ferrigo as he dried himself off. Her shrieks sounded familiar to him.

"Uh-oh. Prosstang hears another mating call," a male of Clan Ordo said playfully.

Ferrigo turned and smiled while shaking his head.

The next morning, he was awakened from his sleep in bed by the stirrings of two young women from the Clan Prosstang who were also Galidraan veterans, Kurbii Praussek and Maikko Us'ja. He remembered Kurbii from their days in school. She had grown beautifully. Maikko was from the north, where most Us'ja family members lived, and was attractive in her own right. They took ownership of Ferrigo that morning, both tasting him at once. His hands found their sexes and returned the warmth he felt for them. He simply laid back and let the women of his clan feast and work his endowments into their full desire. His groans were mostly quiet, his voice instead muttered encouragements to each and both of his partners.

As the morning starlight filled the upper level of the lodge, their voices moaned and yelled loudly and violently as Kurbii and Maikko rode their stallion to their exhaustion. By the end of their coupling, Ferrigo stood above Kurbii and Maikko as they knelt before him supplicatingly. He offered himself for their hunger. They voraciously pulled from his silo and tensing bins that caused him to holler loud enough to be heard throughout the compound as his lovers received every dollop of his broadcasted seed.

"Don't forget us when you become Aliit'alor, baby." Kurbii winked and tugged him with a smile. "The Right of Primacy. You can have us anytime you want. And I want that."

Ferrigo was perplexed, but certainly glad they had survived Galidraan. "Okay." He had gasped, winked, and spanked the rear end of each girl before he dried himself off, his legs severely weakened.

Recalling The Day of Recovery - An Old Friend Returned
The rest of the next day, he slept, rested and took meals and refreshments as well as shower. In the early afternoon, he sat in a chair in the top floor level of the Prosstang Lodge as a warm breeze crossed his body. Like the Ordo and Skirata Lodges, the top floor had columns and braces, but only one or two wall panels, generally open air flow and more light from the primary.

"If you don't pace yourself, kid, you're gonna be dust," a slightly crusty voice came from over his shoulder.

"Kal Skirata. You dog." Ferrigo smiled, turned around and stood up. "Long time no see."

Kal shook Ferrigo's hand. "I know. Sorry about staying away." Skirata wore his casual clothing with a light jacket. He drank from a glass with blue milk in it. "I hear you have made a few names for yourself."

"It's been only maybe, what...ten years?" Ferrigo chuckled. "So how've you been, Kal?"

"I've been drinking a bit." Skirata chuckled. "And my goodness. Since I got here to help Tayb'ika dress the game he caught - By the way, nice job letting him have a share of the title - I've gotten no sleep. I can hear you yelling all sorts of sweet nothings and profanities on the winds. Bes'paru. Kurshok. Ori'lalate. Lenedat. Ori'piryc. And the dalas singing their songs of Prosstang-induced ecstasy." Kal Skirata lamentingly shook his head.

"It happens." Ferrigo sipped from his caf and smiled as he too shook his head. "A jag has to do what a jag has to do."

"It was like Negat all over again. Except there was only one screamer for you then, kid. Ner vod, te dala laararir."

"How've you been generally, Kal?" Ferrigo tried to change the subject away from Relia Vu'udrel.

"Feeling guilty. Pross, Sorry I wasn't at Galidraan."

"I'm glad you weren't, Kal. It was a setup. Good comrades lost. For nothing." Ferrigo sipped his drink again. "Sit down, Kal."

Kal sat down on the sofa, his face tightened with concern.

"What is it?" Ferrigo looked at his old mentor.

"Pross. I've heard that Voodoo went missing." Kal gazed into Ferrigo's blue eyes as his hands played with his glass. "Heard from her lately?"

"No," Ferrigo sighed. "I brought her Tyro's shoulder plates. About a year ago."

Skirata emptied his glass. "Can I get something stronger, Ferrigo?"

"Yeah, hold on a second," Ferrigo looked down into the lower levels of the Prosstang Lodge, and raised his voice. "Four pints of ne'tragal to the top floor, please." He turned to Kal. "I hear you're single again. Ilippi left with Tor, Ijaat, and Ruusaan?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now, Pross. I'm worried about Voodoo." Skirata leaned forward, his forearms on his knees.

Kurbii Praussek, wearing a tight purple jumpsuit, brought up a tray with four pints of dark ale and set the tray down on the table between Ferrigo and Kal. "How is everything?" she asked.

Kal was dumbstruck. "Beautiful."

She winked at Ferrigo and smiled as she turned and walked back downstairs. Kal's gaze followed Kurbii until she was at the next half-level down.

"My word, Pross, who is that beauty?" Kal's brow furrowed.

"Kurbii, a member of our clan. Galidraan veteran, a pilot. And one of the ori'lalate that woke me, and you this morning."

Kal's eyes perked up. "Kandosii. Is she...with you?"

"No. I think she's keeping an offer open to me, but I'm not getting married."

"Really? I've heard that the little gal that took Voodoo's spot on the Galidraan job is here and has it in for you. Real bad."

Ferrigo's brow furrowed. "Who?" he pretended ignorance.

"I think she's from your clan, Ferrigo. She worked the whole lot of my lodge last night," Kal shook his head. "I just tried to get my stuff together to go camping a few klicks from here. To get some sleep."

"You sly dog. Did you get caught in her trap?" Ferrigo grinned and shook his head, a tinge of jealousy crossed his mind. Thinking of Alor'akada Neviik with other men.

"No, but I...did watch for a moment. It was like watching Relia. When she was younger." Skirata bit the corner of his lip. "But, I guess more violent. Starved, even. It was like she was angry. I had to leave."

"Wow." Ferrigo shrugged and held up a pint of ne'tragal. "A toast. To wild women."

Kal tapped his glass to Ferrigo's. "Watch out. This Neviik girl told all of them they didn't have a chance for seconds." Kal pointed his index finger at Ferrigo. "But that she would remember every one of them. Some of them begged her not to leave. She practically walked over them to get out of Skirata Lodge."

"Wow. Another toast to the mando'karla among us." Ferrigo smirked and drank along with Kal.

"She's coming for you. She said as much," Kal grimaced slightly after finishing another quaff of his dark ale. "And you might want to watch your shebs. Seems you're the game during this weekend."

"Thanks for the heads-up," Ferrigo sighed. "And on the shebs, already got that lesson with Malaa the Anvil, Kal."

"Not kidding, Ferrigo. You heard from Ghetta Dehet lately?"

"Only that she's stirring up political trouble and trying to dump osik on my folks. Why you bringing her up? Schingo Velrrus put out a good bounty on that bucket of osik. Not a fifty credit job."

"Not everyone is out of bed with that cranky piece of work, Pross." Skirata gulped the rest of his first ale and set the glass down on the table. "There are enough Hutts backing her to keep her safe. The question is whether or not you have the same kind of backing."

"She's from my own clan, te haar'chakla dala," Ferrigo growled and sucked on his ale, and gasped before setting down his empty glass on the table. "A lower class piece of gutter trash. How she has so much influence without any standing is beyond me."

"She works it, Ferrigo," Kal raised his chin. "She's talking a lot like this Neviik kid. She wants your shebs like there's no tomorrow. I'm guessing she's heard about you and Voodoo."

"You ever score the veshok with Dehet, Kal?"

"I'll never admit it to anyone who wasn't here on this very sofa. When Relia made herself available to me, Pross, it was like the manda had been opened." Kal drank deeply. "I dropped Dehet like a cold gi. That dala is all about carpet-bombing the unwilling to gain advantage. You have to earn Voodoo. But when you do, she is openly yours. No games. No power plays."

Ferrigo winced. "Maybe not that openly mine. Not until..."

"You know what I meant, Pross. But after that afternoon in Negat, after Lu'uk Ordo's kill, when you were still a kid, you were her secret obsession," Kal said and took a sip of his ale. "She never told Tyro. But she didn't know until a year or so before Galidraan that Tyro had hidden a surveillance recorder in her apartment near Glassed for months. Years ago. Before they got married. Half a year had passed since Galidraan and she called me. I was trying to track my family, and needed a break."

"So you stopped by, one thing led to an-"

"No! Wrong." Kal lowered his hand. "She cried about you, worried that she should have taken the Galidraan job. She was sure that Tyro would kill you there.  And that's why he...he beat her, told her that she wouldn't be working the Galidraan job and told her to never talk to you again."

"He killed himself, Kal. Put the blame at my feet." Ferrigo sighed.

"Tyro was an utreekov, Pross. When he realized he couldn't give her children the older-fashioned way, he abused her regularly. She told him that she hoped he died, and that you were a real man that he could never be. She even said that she told him that she would file for divorce so that she could marry you and have a family - because you were the true love she found but passed over."

"How did that feel, Kal, for her to lay that on you?"

"Not the best, kid. I'll be honest with you, Pross." Kal cleared his throat after taking a long draw from his ale glass. "You're a di'kut. I like you, and will have your back always. But you're still throwing your bone at all these dogs when you could be with Relia Vu'udrel. The best woman I've ever known."

"Kal, she should have left Tyro and the other players, including you, behind. I don't play second position." Ferrigo said firmly.

"She made a mistake, kid. Forgive her. Besides, you're no better than her. Two of a kind. Leave here. Go to Negat. Track her down and sweep her off her feet." Kal spread his hands. "I know I would."

"Then do it, Kal. There's a reason that your wife left you. And it's nothing about you being the great man you are. She doesn't appreciate mando'karla. Relia does, and will. But our moment, me and Relia, is over. I will care for her always, like you have. Take her, my friend."

Both men finished their second glasses of ale.

"She wants you, Pross."

"I'm a di'kut, Kal. Someone else is out there for me." Ferrigo looked out the south side of the covered top floor. "But I haven't found her yet."

"She just might find you. Tonight." Kal shook Ferrigo's hand again. "Good luck, kid. I still think you're a festering head wound for passing on Voodoo."

Ferrigo smiled. "Get her, Kal."

The Banquet of Confrontation
The evening started with a banquet of the meats the hunters had trapped or shot supplemented by lush greens, and vegetables grown near the Lodges. Ferrigo sat down to the right of Tetch Kuporr, and across the table from his cousin Jannigo. The two exchanged knowing smiles.

"Good to see you, ner vod," Jannigo smiled and then indicated surprise toward Ferrigo's right side.

Ferrigo felt a chill run through his stomach and shoulders. A familiar female voice over his shoulder dripped with sarcasm and insincerity. "Nice to see you, too, Jannigo. And your cousin. How are you, Ferrigo?"

"I'm fine." Ferrigo said as he looked across the table at his cousin.

More quietly, the older woman's voice neared Ferrigo's ear. "You will be mine, tonight. Or your father will be sold out as the unfaithful lout that he is. You know that you are the man who should be leading Clan Prosstang - right now. And that I'm the best woman to be by your side. I can make you very happy."

"You're not Relia Vu'udrel. I have no interest in marrying you, or anyone," Ferrigo took a deep breath and said with an air of exasperation as he lifted a chalice of Alderaanian wine. "And my father is Aliit'alor. You should watch your mouth." Out of the corner of his right eye, he saw the very short form of Alor'akada Neviik approach the table.

"You don't have as many options as you might think, young Ferrigo," her hot breath bathed his right ear. "You also better tell our clansman Redar Velrrus to drop the bounty on me."

"Don't know what you're talking about, usen'ye dala. Please back away, I'm not interested in being seen as attached to you." Prosstang gestured around the open air banquet room. "There are many other interesting and attractive younger women here that have my attention."

Across the table, Jannigo appeared uneasy, and shifted in his seat.

The voice teased. "I hear Relia Vu'udrel isn't doing so well these days."

Ferrigo quickly spun in his seat and lashed his left hand to the throat of the woman at his right shoulder. "What do you mean about Relia?   What have you heard?" Ferrigo gritted into the left side of Ghetta Dehet's face as he tightened his grip on the woman's throat. "Talk."

Ghetta Dehet coughed and choked. Alor'akada seemed prepared to sit next to Jannigo until she caught sight of Ferrigo holding the eye-bulging, gasping, and seething redhead by the neck. Dehet rasped. "Can't. Talk."

"Most times you shouldn't. But I command you, osik'la dala."

Tetch Kuporr seemed to wave someone over to assist in resolving the tense situation.

A young man with curly black hair approached Ferrigo and Ghetta from behind before speaking. "Prosstang. Can you let this young woman go?"

Ferrigo released his hand from her throat with a slight growl. "Thanks, Ordo."

Dehet snapped herself up to stand and stagger back through Aloquar Ordo, and knocked him to the side. The angered redhead caught her breath with rasping coughs as she stomped away from Ferrigo's seat and then from the room.

"What was that all about?" Aloquar gestured toward the door. "Why were you on her?"

Ferrigo took a shallow breath. "Long story, Ord'ika. Not worth our time tonight."

"Elek, Pross," Aloquar Ordo stood upright and started to walk away. "Talk later. After dinner, maybe. Or after the contest."

Ferrigo took a deep breath and smiled. "It's going to be a while, Alo. Talk to you in the morning."

At that moment, he noticed that Alor'akada Neviik passed around Aloquar Ordo's side nearest the wall and approached him. "Su'cuy, Aliit'alorad," Neviik's voice was soft with a slight bit of an edge. Her demeanor was most pleasant, and surprising to Ferrigo. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Ferrigo looked her up and down. She wasn't as tall as the chairbacks. "You're welcome to sit with me."

She smiled, and Ferrigo leaned over to help push her chair in as she sat down. "People might talk."

"I'm not married. Not getting married," Ferrigo looked at Jannigo as his cousin talked with Reeta Ortikan and then took a slow breath. "Let them talk, Neviik."

Alor'akada, or Lorakada, he confirmed, was a native of Concord Dawn and was a distant relative within the Clan Prosstang. They talked a little of her family and ancestors in the northern reaches of the Prosstang Region of Mandalore, but mostly of Concord Dawn. He commented on her savagery and hunt successes during the few days she was actually there. He then asked about her late arrival at the Hunting Lodges.

Neviik looked at him with a dismissive shake of her head. "Heard you were a late comer, too. What were you busy doing?"

"Fair enough," Ferrigo smiled and lifted his hand.

"Oh, no, Ferrigo Prosstang," Alor'akada grinned and slightly turned to him. "I don't play fair. And I don't get enough."

He thought of her killing the animals she trapped during the hunt, and smearing her face with the blood of her kills whenever Ferrigo was present. He thought back on their first meeting again and her insolence before and during Galidraan. And her tiny, beautiful, near-naked body in the officer's quarters aboard the landing craft. Teasing him. "Sounds like you need taming and training. Or maybe love."

Her smile widened as Ferrigo gazed directly into her blue eyes. She seemed genuine, though Ferrigo's comfort level was still unstable. She took in a quick breath. "I don't know if I've ever told you."

"What?"

"You're gonna be my husband." Alor'akada Neviik looked seriously at Ferrigo, with a warm smile.

"Is that what the bloody-face thing was all about during the hunt?" Ferrigo slightly spread his hands and turned to face Alor'akada again with a smile. "Would you like wine?"

"You think you can make me whine?" the diminutive, beautiful woman grinned at him, her eyes flashing with humor.

"Surely." Ferrigo pointed to the chalice on the table before Alor'akada and a wine steward reached around her to fill it with a dark red wine. "You might have to crush my grapes, first."

"Thank you," the young Ms. Neviik said to the steward over her shoulder. "Oh. Hey. The other night. That was very nice, the thing you did with your hips."

The wine steward smiled and looked uncomfortable as Ferrigo stared at him. The room was otherwise filled with loud conversations and laughter as the many trays of hors d'oeuvres made their way around the tables to be emptied of all but garnishes. The wine steward nodded and walked to others holding their chalices above their shoulders.

"Who was that?" Ferrigo asked. "Hips thing?"

Alor'akada Neviik looked directly at Ferrigo, without humor. "Think you can keep up with me?"

"What do you mean?" Ferrigo shook his head slightly with a winced eyebrow.

"Are you a gelding or a stallion?" she grinned slightly before sipping from her chalice of Alderaanian wine. "I've heard different things about you. Like you're really big. And wild. Heard those girls screaming about it last night. I know you're a screamer and a yeller."

Ferrigo shook his head and chuckled shortly before he drank from his wine. "I'd crush you and crack you. You're so small, kid."

"Later tonight." Alor'akada's blue eyes sparkled and gazed into Ferrigo's own eyes. "Do you want to try me? I don't think you can keep up with me." Her smile grew with her challenge. She started to guffaw.

"I've got more than you can take, little girl. Plus what? I'm a foot and a half taller than you." Ferrigo ran his fingertip around the rim of his wine glass. "You're gorgeous. But I'd squash and break you. Especially after your antics on Galidraan. And, I'm not getting married."

The next round of hors d'oeuvres was served.

Neviik shifted in her seat to regard Ferrigo more directly, and her hands openly gestured to emphasize her next words. "Okay. I get it. You're Ghetta Dehet's property. I'll back off. I'd heard about a bunch of aruet'yc dalas. Didn't know that you were serious about her, but that earlier thing over here should have given me a clue. I am pretty young, after all."

Ferrigo looked puzzled at the tiny, beautiful Mandalorian woman as she began to stand from her chair.

"Guess we'll never know how tight a fit you really are." She sighed and stood and began to move.

Ferrigo grabbed her small waist with both hands, his thumbs merely inches below her chest. "No. Stay."

"You want me, Ferrigo Prosstang?" Alor'akada bit her lip, and ran her right hand through her black hair and pulled it back over her ear as he held her with his hands large relative to her small figure. "Don't you?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes."

"I play for keeps. I won't play nice. I want it all." She gazed longingly at Ferrigo. "Everything. I want you."

"Mando'karla." Ferrigo said breathily. "Sit. Now. Before I spank you."

"You promise?" she grinned.

"Just sit," Ferrigo pointed to her chair, and smiled. "You'll need to eat well."

"Don't drink too much, Mr. Prosstang. You don't want to fall apart, do you?"

Ferrigo smiled at Alor'akada and they chatted and laughed the rest of the dinner, occasionally making faces at each other while eating.

All Theirs: The Matching of Wills and Bodies
After they found a suitable bed a few hours after dinner, Ferrigo gazed at the black-haired, blue-eyed beauty of the tiny Alor'akada Neviik. She dropped her dress to the floor, revealing her small, exquisite, feminine curves and closely-trimmed verge. She sighed and grasped her relatively large breasts together as he pulled off his shirt and pulled down his lounge pants, revealing his muscular physique and his endowment that appeared to be waving at full attention. She said it was larger than any she had seen.

"Oh my god, you're so...oh my god."

Ferrigo spread his feet apart to lower his center of gravity and lazily scratched his plumage. His hand then formed a fist, and he casually handled himself for a few seconds in the young beauty's direction. "Come and get it, Orikih Lor'ika. Cyar'meshla vinka."

The little local beauty moved with purpose to kneel before Ferrigo as he stood with his back to the foot of the bed. Soon she was kissing him in ways that made him groan with pleasure, her attractive face dancing all over his gifts, stomach and thighs with loud smacking kisses. "You taste so good."

Ferrigo gazed down into her blue eyes as she tasted him. His mouth dropped open and issued noises that were not intelligible.

Her mouth popped from its topic, and she rasped above Ferrigo's loud moan. "You'd better hold on viin'ulik. This monster is going to disappear."

"I thought you said I'd never have you, little baby." Ferrigo cooed as she gripped and stroked him with both of her tiny hands, pecking, smooching, and flicking her tongue on him. He then grunted at the ceiling as she indeed took almost everything he had.

A few spectators gathered around the top of the partition wall to watch the tall, strapping and bearded Ferrigo Prosstang being completely devoured by the tiny, petite, and curvy Alor'akada Neviik. Ferrigo yelled again and again when Alor'akada kissed him deeply, fully opened to receive all he could offer.

He pulled her away from his body for a moment.

She gasped loudly with a leering smile. "Giving up?"

Ferrigo bent down and grabbed her waist after she stood up, grunted then lifted and turned her around until the front of her thighs rested on top his shoulders as she faced the floor from her lover's waist. Many of the spectators gasped and chuckled with excitement. With one exception.

In the backlighting, Ferrigo spotted the curly red hair and angry countenance of Ghetta Dehet. He smiled, and within moments, Alor'akada was moaning and yelling as Ferrigo fully lifted and tasted of her fit and trimmed sweetness. He moved so that Ghetta could see exactly what he and Alor'akada were doing.

Alor'akada Neviik's chest laid flattened against his hardened abdominal muscles as his endowment twitched and kicked below with excitement. Alor'akada did her very best, while kissing the line of fur on his stomach, to grasp his strength below as he flexed many of his muscles.

Ferrigo's noisy hunger masked his delight and desire to make Alor'akada a very happy young woman. Her tense quivers, shrieks and releases that trailed down his neck, chest, and stomach and her tiny body let him know that she was his. "Mine," he grunted into her softness over and over again as he kissed her wet seat, sensitive flesh and verge of neatly-trimmed hair follicles. "All mine, baby." He looked toward the impromptu gallery and smiled at Ghetta and others as he kissed the tiny Alor'akada's derriere and womanhood tenderly.

"Oh yeah, Ferrigo!!" Alor'akada grabbed his waist with her tiny hands and pressed away from him like a recoiling snake to look at the gathered spectators, including Ghetta Dehet. She let out a pouting cry of vulgarities as tears filled her eyes and she shuddered on her masterful and hungry lover as he manhandled her. "Don't stop, viin'ulik! He's so karking good! Devouring me!"

As her stallion, he did as she begged and pleaded. His large hands held her tiny waist firmly, his face practically unseen as his nose was nestled in her rear. He smiled, enjoying her, and seeing the astonishment and enjoyment of the audience. And the boiling rage of Dehet. Ferrigo buried his face deeper into his lover and made louder noises of hunger.

She spat on his length, and laid her pillowy chest back onto his stomach. She gripped and massaged his manhood with both of her small hands, pulling him to her mouth for kisses and more.

Ferrigo groaned and grunted at his lover's ways as they feasted on each other. Her expressions were muffled by her possession of him. He lowered her hips a few inches, and groaned as the air cooled his wet, bearded face. She suddenly gulped and moved her hands to his thighs to consume him entirely. He yelled as he turned his head, seeing the gathered audience look on in shock and arousal. He nodded his head as he grimaced and bit his lip before he resumed his attentions to her.

Alor'akada noisily devoured Ferrigo for a few minutes as he held her with his strong arms. He moaned a stream of profanities with each of her plunges down toward the base of his stanchion. He kissed her thighs and wherever else his craned neck allowed him to reach. He used his muscular right arm to pin her small torso to his stomach and chest as his left hand reached down to hold the back of her thin neck - to hold her up and guide her further into his lap.

Someone, in peering above the partition muttered. "Hod Ha'ran. She's got the whole thing."

As Alor'akada's head bobbed back and forth, Ferrigo winced and looked in the direction of the comment and groaned loudly. "Hod Ha'ran is right," he gasped and seethed. "All of it." He cooed, yelped a few non-sensical words and shifted his feet.

Alor'akada braced her hands around the fur below Ferrigo's muscular stomach and leaned out to gasp for air. "Kad Ha'rangir, he tastes so karking good." She groaned and then took his swinging man-root back into her mouth.

Prosstang grunted, kissed her wet rear again, and used his muscular arms and hands to pull her away from him and drop her onto the bed while holding her waist in his strong hands. Her forearms and knees bounced on the bed before she was settled. Ferrigo quickly moved in behind her and plunged fully into Alor'akada.

"Orikih!" he grunted as a gaping grimace distorted his handsome face.

Her eyes squinted tightly as her mouth gaped open. "Ori'kad!" she moaned, her own face tightened with agonic pleasure as Ferrigo began to pull her bouncing rear end toward his plumage as he moved his hips rapidly back and forth. Her soft, feminine body slapped wildly into his hard, muscular stomach and groin. The bedframe creaked and groaned.

Within minutes the two lovers were screaming at each other, Ferrigo grabbing Alor'akada's black hair roughly with his left hand as their sexes burst with the fluid expression of their lust for each other. He again remembered two years before when they first met, his rough treatment of this tiny young woman. And now she was totally surrendering to him. And he to her.

After he removed himself with a loud groan, she gasped and turned around. She raised her head to his chest and slapped Ferrigo's face hard.

He shook off the blow. "What?!" he yelled.

The spectators gasped and murmured. Some giggled cautiously.

Alor'akada stood up on the bed, barely taller than her lover while he was only on his knees. She held onto Ferrigo, bringing his mouth to hers for a deep kiss before she withdrew. She glanced momentarily where Ghetta Dehet had been standing and stingingly slapped Ferrigo's face again before placing a little smooch on his lips.

He growled and grabbed her graceful and thin throat and neck almost fully with his left hand and pushed her down onto her back. She gulped and bounded slightly on the bed as he pinned her neck to the sheets. He was on top of her quickly, and guided himself into her femininity until he pressed her deepest limits.

She moaned and cried. "Oh kriff, ori'viinulik!! So karking big, Prosstang! You're splitting me, baby!!"

He smacked her face a bit more gently with his right hand and then pointed at her as he held her throat with his left hand. "Don't slap me again, orikih vinka."

Alor'akada gritted her teeth, scowled angrily and used the nails of her tiny fingertips to scratch his arms and chest deeply as she cursed at him.

Ferrigo yelled at her and began to wildly pummel himself into her until the collision of their bodies sounded like applause. He watched the area below her stomach and above her trimmed verge swell and recede with his movements, with repeated grunts. He moved his hand around her neck to pull her head forward to regard his lusting, loving assault of her tiny, fuzzed sweetness beyond her sweat-dampened chest and stomach.

The gathered audience gasped, murmured, and among the men, chortles of excitement as they exchanged tokens from their wagers on the action they watched.

Alor'akada Neviik screamed, shrieked, and grabbed the headboard posts as Prosstang yelled and wildly bounced her tiny, jiggling body into the mattress while holding her neck firmly. Her blue eyes teared up as her moans and cries grew louder. She screamed his name again and again as he built up a fast and furious pace of powerful thrusts. The bedframe cracked ominously under the sounds of the lovers' passions.

"Gar goranur ner sheb'ika hettir, cyar'ika!! Tal'onidir ni patitur ani gar ori'viinulik!! Ani gar cyar'orikad!!" The tiny Mandalorian beauty grimaced and shrieked, and Ferrigo squinted his eyes shut tightly, panting as he envisioned the ancient forge working smiths of his clan hammering away on fine blades.

Ferrigo's large, muscular physique took ownership of Alor'akada's tiny, soft and violently shaking body as their sexes slapped together. He opened his blue eyes and they immediately rolled into the back of his head. He groaned at the ceiling after he glanced up at the on-lookers for a moment. He returned his gaze beneath him, and watched, and felt the sensational movements of his lover's tiny body taking him entirely, and giving him everything she had. He also felt the sting and searing heat of the scratches of his flesh, and saw that his blood had been drawn.

"Get me baby!!! Hit it!! Hit me hard!!" Alor'akada grunted and cried. Her wet bursts began, splashing him as she screamed and slapped, gripped and scratched his dominating, muscular body. "Harder!! So karking deep, Ori'viinulik!! Ohmigod!" she cried, whimpered, and shrieked repeatedly as her deeply flushed face grimaced through a violent series of releases.

He was unrelenting in his possession of her. Ferrigo growled, grunted, and panted, incessantly, and folded Alor'akada's tiny body into a ball and kissed her face and mouth deeply as he pounded her into the bed with their connected sexes. "So karking tight, little baby!!" he yelled at her only inches from her face. A loud crack and boom announced the breaking and collapse of the bedframe. Ferrigo continued his violently pistoning motion and yelled among a stream of non-sense. "Yuss!!! Kark yeah!! So karkin' good baby!!"

"Kad Ha'rangir, he's gonna kill her!" a spectator blurted with genuine concern, barely heard above the furious passion displayed on the wet bed below.

She moaned, wailed and cried, and bit Ferrigo's tongue hard a few times when he kissed her. She cried out, her face a red mask of pained exhaustion. "Harder, ori'viinulik!!"

"No karking bites, baby!" Ferrigo gripped her throat and sputtered into Alor'akada's face as he sent her into another explosive delirium of shrieks and cries with his brutal, sinuous jackhammering of her tight sleeve. Though the bedframe had given out, the head of the bed was only slightly angled down, and the wild mattress dancing of Ferrigo and Alor'akada did not cause them to slide.

A few minutes later, Ferrigo yelled at the top of his lungs at the ceiling and gallery after a deep inhale and withdrawal from Alor'akada. He let go of her neck and kept her legs folded back, as he moved up and squatted over her chest, neck, and beautiful face to massage himself into erupting repeatedly all over her. Ferrigo roared, again and again. "Lor'ika!!! Oh kriff!! Yyyuuhhhhh!!!"

"Oh my god, yesss, Ferrigo! Burst all over me, stud!"

Ferrigo groaned, moaned, and cooed as Alor'akada's tiny hands took over and gripped with a sliding motion to squeeze and massage his full length. The little woman gathered his voluminous coverage of her and sucked it from her fingers. As Ferrigo leaned back to sit on his heels, groaning and catching his breath, Alor'akada panted and moved carefully to rest on her chest. Her beautiful face was very close to her lover's mid-section.

Ferrigo cooed, seethed, and groaned again as she kissed him all over between his thighs and began to take account of him again with a hunger. "You're so good. So good to me, orikih vinka. My gorgeous little baby." He mewed with her loving kisses, pinches, swirls, and clamps. She smiled and giggled as she tasted his gifts.

"You give up yet?" Alor'akada smiled weakly, covered in sweat and Ferrigo's releases.

Prosstang groaned at the ceiling and at nobody in particular. "Nooooo...Get it, Orikih'vinka. Feast, 'cause I will again."

She pushed his stomach with both of her hands until he leaned back, braced on his hands. Alor'akada then kissed and ran her tongue up and down the sides of his root, as he groaned and yelped, gazing at her loving tasting and cleaning of him. Her nose and mouth found its way under his stupendously long and thick appendage and accessories. Her muffled voice groaned as she devoured Ferrigo's flesh, and his endowments twitched and rested on and above her beautiful face. She scratched the fur below his stomach as his body trembled and he moaned, grunted, and shouted at her, and the audience.

"Kandosii'la," many muttered and chuckled amid the din of gasps, and shared glances of astonishment in the audience.

He reached around to grab her rear end with his right hand. His fingers massaged her sweetness and caused her to gasp and moan into the crevice below his gifts. Ferrigo yelled a few vulgar words and stirred his tiny lover's pot, and softly spanked her face with his sturdy length.

Alor'akada moved to engulf one and then the other of the egg shaped reservoirs of Ferrigo's genetic legacy through his smooth, tightened skin.

He muttered a few words that were impolite in mixed company, but this was in fact the time for honoring mating rituals. His staff of life pointed to the ceiling at its fullness. "Get over here, Lor'ika. Bounce on me." Ferrigo leaned back as Alor'akada got up to her knees and climbed onto his lap with her hands locked together behind his neck.

She moaned, shivered, and cried as she slid down his serpent, lowered by his squeezing hands. His length disappeared completely when she wiggled her little, round derriere down on him.

Ferrigo groaned. "Yeaaahh. Take it all. Kriff you're so tight."

She sobbed as she gazed into his eyes and rode him like her steed. "So karking huge, Ferrigo. You're gonna make me explode again. All over you."

They gazed into each others' eyes, moaned, and kissed each other feverishly as the heat rose again and again.

Their match continued for another hour and a half with a variety of paces and positions. Alor'akada, Orikih Terochii, the Tiny Pitiless One continued to scratch, slap, and bite Ferrigo. And love him with tender kisses in some of their moments together under the watchful eyes of the spectators. Ferrigo gently spanked, smacked, choked, and pinched her when groping seemed insufficient to satiate his tiny, beautiful, and feral lover. And yet, at other times, they were calm and gentle in their coupling, especially at the end.

"You're mine. Nobody else's." They said in unison before they kissed one last time. They laughed together.

As the two lovers slowly dressed in robes provided to them bearing their affiliation with Clan Prosstang and stood from the bed, they looked at each other and smiled weakly. The judges determined that they had supremely consumed each other in a lengthy demonstration of lustful vigor that amazed, amused, and aroused the other contestants. Ferrigo's face had a number of tiny handprint bruises, and the bacta spray was not fully sufficient to heal and soothe the bleeding rake marks on his back, chest and sides.

As they left the bedchamber, they were both joyous, devastated, and exhausted; receiving cheers, laughter and glasses of tihaar on their mutual agreement to disengage from the contest. Both shared in victory, as judged by the panel and their peers.

They gazed at each other for a long moment before the tiny, beautiful Alor'akada walked to a different area of the Prosstang Lodge. His Alor'akada.

"Kad Ha'rangir, Pross," Kal Skirata approached a staggering Ferrigo. "Do you need a repulsorlift chair?"

"Kal," Ferrigo gasped and inhaled as they carefully navigated their way downstairs. "I think I'm in love."

"Well, you gave as good as you got, and she didn't kill you. I guess that's a start, kid." Kal took a deep breath as they reached a small platform overlooking the entrance to the Prosstang Lodge. "Man, you really made Ghetta Dehet flip. She was cursing your name. And Neviik's. Tell you something, it was as good as the holovids filmed professionally in the Coruscant Underworld. I'm still a bit hazy about the bit where you pulled her upside-down and..."

Ferrigo chuckled. "Thanks, Kal."

"You think you're in love?" Skirata looked up at Ferrigo. "Still seems kind of brutal to me. But you know what? There was something other than anger from her tonight. I think you might have just tamed the meanest little dala I've ever seen. And you showed an old dog or two some new tricks."

"I hope Voodoo is ready for you, Kal." Ferrigo smirked.

The Present Tense - The Assignment of Partners
He smiled at these very fresh memories, but a pang of sorrow lingered as he thought about the passion and sweetness of Relia, and all they had shared in that weekend a year ago. But after the match with Alor'akada, he had heard that Relia had either died or was taken into slavery for Tyro's unpaid debts. Kal Skirata didn't believe either of those stories, and promised to seek Relia out. Jaster Mereel would have counseled Ferrigo to steer clear. And Jango would repeat Mereel's words. Don't make a bed you won't sleep in.

''Kal Skirata will look for her. And care for her.''

Ferrigo regarded the small holopad in his left hand, a rotating icon surounded with lettering in both Aurebesh and Mando'a. It read ''Job Code: C513R-014139. Wanted: Cargo Retrieval and Delivery. Merch: Medical supplies. Location: Hutt Space or Spice Triangle likely. Descrip: Corellian freighter hijacked. Other: Pirates involved. Other 2: Armed and dangerous. Other 3: Two trackers required. Reward: 60,000 GRC or equivalent. Client Number: 32-64203-TH-351. Location: Port Sector C-36, Nar Shaddaa. Special: Detailed finishing. ''

Most certainly a Hutt job, almost certainly a spice shipment 'delayed' from its arrival. And from the client number, probably a job hired by his former employer and nemesis, Anurgga. He smiled, having already sent his bounty agent authentication code to accept the job. ''Easy money and big payout. But who is the second party? Might have to wait until Nar Shaddaa to find that out, Pross.''

The door to the cantina swung open with a loud creak and a small cloud of dirt and grit entered and settled with the louder clatter of the door slamming closed on its own. A crunch of small boots on the chiseled and dirt covered duracrete floor moved closer toward him. A familiar woman's slightly childish 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, tiny, black-haired woman responded with a wide smile and shining blue eyes. "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," Alor'akada Neviik 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?" Alor'akada 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, Neviik. And, Mandallian Narcolethe will do fine. Even for a Nite Owl."

"Yeah, I'm a Nite Owl. I like to fly," she paused. "Right to Primacy?" Alor'akada 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. Plus, I can barely walk after last night. Think you can keep your beskar'gaika on?" Neviik challenged.

Ferrigo smiled at the change of the tables from Galidraan. "Absolutely. Tell me more about the job, since it sounds like you have the inside track."

The diminutive Mandalorian woman pulled her black hair back over her right ear. A DH-17 blaster pistol was holstered on her right hip. "Yeah, it's bigger than yours."

"Don't think so, little one," Ferrigo grinned.

"Okay," Neviik said with a smile. "You're gifted."

"Tell me. How did you get tied up with Anurgga?"

A look of exasperation and mild anger clouded Alor'akada Neviik's beautiful face. "Why should I tell you?"

"Call it a matter of trust," Prosstang sipped from his glass of narcolethe. "Let me guess. You used to dance for him?"

"I would dart you where you sit, Prosstang," the petite woman growled.

Ferrigo smiled and shook his head slowly. "Why don't you? I won't slam your face into the bar. Unless you put your buy'ce back on. And ask politely."

"You blow, Prosstang." Her frown turned quickly into a wry grin. "This effort will need a pretty boy."

"I'm flattered."

"I was thinking about your cousin, Jannigo, actually." Alor'akada allowed herself a partial chuckle. "You're the brawn. I need someone to get us into the good graces with females."

Ferrigo groaned in disbelief and pointed at himself. "I don't think you realize how many females I've gotten into the good graces with. With this handsome face." His hands framed his expression of exasperation.

"You bought 'em, didn't ya? That's not charm. That's money and slave tail," Alor'akada paused and smiled at the seething Mandalorian next to her. "At least that's what my sources say."

"Your sources," Ferrigo muttered. "I will own your shebs, Nevi'ika. And you will scream for mercy. And get none," Ferrigo scowled as he recalled the violent passion of his recent coupling with the tiny, beautiful black-haired waif that sat next to him, seeming like a school girl in armor.

"I'll never be your slave," Neviik shook her head. "In fact, I don't think you'll ever get to see my bare little self ever again."

"Your shebs are mine, Orikih Terochii. All mine. Anytime I want them." Ferrigo glared with lust in his gaze, directly into her brilliant blue eyes. "The Right of Primacy. Or I'll break your family right out of the Clan Prosstang."

"The real reason for Jannigo taking that part of the job is that I don't want you getting around," Alor'akada Neviik grinned happily. "I want you all to myself, too, you goon. You're gonna be my husband, remember?"

Ferrigo sighed and took another sip of his Narcolethe. "You're incredible."

"Let's talk the job, okay?" Alor'akada smiled sincerely.

Recovering a Pinch of Spice, Part I - Tracking (42 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Hodrudda. Panwa. U fa granee murishani, Zosskee, ma champio.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Yessssss. I don’t want Prosssssstang. I want Velllllrrrrussssss.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Vaylah-roosah. Ho ho ho. Fierfek Vaylah-roosah.” ''

<span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">– Anurgga the Mighty, Hutt of the Besadii Kajidic to his chief lieutenant, the dangerous Trandoshan bounty hunter, Xossk regarding patience in their plan to secure Ferrigo Prosstang as bait to lure Redar ‘Schingo’ Velrrus into a deadly trap.

Alor'akada's Plan
Ferrigo took a deep breath. "I have a light freighter. Corellian. YV-330. Heavily armed. How did you get here?"

"You don't wanna know, Ferrigo," Alor'akada gazed at him firmly. "I'm going with you."

"Fine by me." Ferrigo looked around. "Let's take our drinks upstairs. There's a cozy overlook up there." He nodded to the left before he and Alor'akada stood from their stools and stepped away from the bar. "Polli, add a full bottle of that Narcolethe to my tab. Here you go." Prosstang tossed a shining credit chip onto the bar.

Alor'akada walked in front of Ferrigo, her helmet in hand as she ascended the enclosed staircase that led upward and then bent at a right angle to the right. They emerged into an interior balcony that was partially enclosed with a short wall and a drop down curtain wall from the ceiling. Most of the bar was visible from the overlook. The pair took a small table and sat down near the overlook. Ferrigo placed the bottle of Narcolethe on the table.

Neviik sat up and leaned to peer over the edge of the overlook wall. "So I have a plan, Ori'viinulik."

Ferrigo smiled proudly. "Yes, Orikih'vinka?"

She smiled as she explained. "We have to find the spice load that Anurgga's freight-jockeys couldn't keep a hold of. I'll contact Anurgga's right hand. I think it's a slimy lizard-man. One of his arms is shorter than the other."

"Okay," Ferrigo ran his hand through his long hair and pulled it back into a tail with a band from his left wrist. "Why bring Anurgga or his crew into this?" He knew the reason, but he wanted to hear Alor'akada's explanation.

"Ferrigo," Alor'akada was adorable as she chided him. "Almost every scam like this is going to have an insider working a few angles. I figure that the lizard was someone to start with. He told me that there were two outlaws I should track down for more information. Both worked for Anurgga a while ago. You might know of one of them," she paused. "Redar Velrrus."

"And the other?" Ferrigo gazed directly into her blue eyes.

"Hondo Ohnaka." Alor'akada regarded Ferrigo with a wan smile and then peered over the wall again. "Do you know him too?"

"No." Prosstang spoke firmly and lifted his glass of Narcolethe, tilting it back until the frosty, but fiery-tasting contents burned his throat. He sighed and rasped. "Velrrus is the man who rescued me from imprisonment by Domba the Hutt. Years ago."

"So you're close?" the tiny Mandalorian beauty pulled her hair over from right to left as she leaned on her left elbow. "He seemed to think he was somehow better than you. Wouldn't even let me see his face."

"Velrrus is alright," Ferrigo sighed and took another drink. "I think he's made some enemies, lost some people he loved. But aside from the fact that he's someone I don't think anyone should mess with, I don't know him that well."

"He put out a bounty on another one of our clansmen. Ghetta Dehet. Doesn't that bother you?" Alor'akada probed.

Ferrigo shook his head, with a blank expression. "What has she done, I'd ask. By the way, there's nothing about Ghetta Dehet that I am interested in. Except for her staying out of my business. And my family's business."

"I'm a little surprised. I heard that you were going to have an arranged marriage with her." Alor'akada sipped from her Narcolethe.

"Not happening. Never heard anything about it. She might want that, but she's not attractive in any way. I am not getting married to Ghetta Dehet."

Alor'akada smiled. "Right. You're saving yourself for me."

"Maybe," Ferrigo smiled. "Maybe. But I won't be getting involved in any business of Redar Velrrus. He's a dangerous man. One of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, from what I hear."

"True," Alor'akada sighed. "You want me to talk to him? He does have legitimate business interests, from what I've heard."

"No," Ferrigo almost snapped, but caught his tone and softened it. "I will talk to him. But I'm not doing any favors for Dehet, or committing myself to getting tangled in any Velrrus schemes. I will have responsibilities to Prosstang Industries, and I'm not looking to jeopardize my standing there." Ferrigo took another sip of Narcolethe to mask the smirk that was about to form.

"But I thought we would have Jannigo on hand to take stock of this Velrrus. See if there were any leads from this harem he's reported to have." Alor'akada spread her hands over the datapad sitting on the table.

"I'll call Jannigo in if needed," Ferrigo said more sternly. "I personally don't think he's capable of doing this sort of work without strict guidance. Not yet. He didn't have enough time to learn the teachings of Jaster Mereel."

"Can't you teach him, Ferrigo?" Alor'akada shrugged slightly.

"Not sure he has the right frame of mind to handle Redar Velrrus, or the sorts that Velrrus associates with." Ferrigo shook his head slightly with a slight frown.

Alor'akada sighed aloud. "Fine. I'll teach him. But you will talk to Velrrus directly, then?"

"I don't see the value in my cousin being involved," Ferrigo's frown deepened. "You might find him handsome and attractive, but without a lot in his boots, he might get himself into deep trouble. And jeopardize our contract. Add to that, I am looking to build my reptutation as a tracker. Not Jannigo's. And I'm not like Redar Velrrus, who could afford to share work."

"Okay," Alor'akada glanced in exasperation at the ceiling for a moment. "Understood. We don't, or you don't bring in Jannigo unless you think he's needed. I am then handling Hondo Ohnaka?"

"Sounds fair," Ferrigo then considered the possible danger of sending Alor'akada to his one-time protege who had become, in less than ten years, one of the most successful, and feared pirates in the Outer Rim. The danger of meeting with Ohnaka face-to-face as someone other than Schingo Velrrus concerned him more. Dhettos Kuporr would have to be contacted immediately to be prepared for service as his double. To meet with Alor'akada.

"So, I will talk with Ohnaka about his latest activities, and those of others he might know about." Alor'akada took the datapad in her hands and began to tap the screen.

"Changed my mind, Orikih'vinka," Ferrigo sat back after taking a drink from his glass of Narcolethe. "I'm going to talk to Hondo Ohnaka. You'll talk to Velrrus. Bring Jannigo if you want to."

"Why are you changing your mind?" Alor'akada zipped her finger across the datapad screen a few times and set the device back on the table.

Ferrigo took a deep breath and smiled at his beautiful little companion. "I just realized, Prosstang Industries has been having a number of issues with piracy along several of its supply runs. Not spice related. And Prosstang Industries wants to steer clear of the spice market, legal or otherwise. I know that Velrrus has business interests in legitimate spice trade."

"I didn't know that," the young Neviik touched her chin as she held her elbow with her other hand.

"I want to approach Ohnaka about a truce. I can discuss business with him, alone, and with an official cover as a representative of Prosstang Industries. And you and Jannigo can try to make progress with Velrrus. Just be careful. And no deals."

"Fine," Neviik sighed, and drank the rest of the contents of her glass. "I'll contact Jannigo and let him know the game's starting."

"Great," Ferrigo smiled. "Did the lizard-man give you a copy of the invoice and tracking records for the shipment?"

"Well, yeah, of course," Alor'akada guffawed incredulously.

"Just asking."

The pair got up from their table, and headed downstairs.

Treachery For A Treasury
"Well, it's been a long time, Schingo," Hondo Ohnaka stroked the top of his head after he removed a helmet and goggles, and set them on the desk before him. "Please, do sit, sit, my friend."

"Friend." Ferrigo sat, and set his right hand Taddie blaster pistol on his lap.

"Well, yes, yehhhssss, dear Schingo. You don't mean to tell me you are still angry about Raaleena? I mean, Helegas? Or, whatever she calls herself now?"

Ferrigo gazed into the Weequay's dark, beady eyes.

"I'm also sorry about The Jewel of the Dance. I know that Aallyss'anada was happiest with you," Hondo Ohnaka spread his upturned hands. "But time has passed, Schingo. And I don't have a lot of time these days. Is there business you need to discuss with me?"

"Anurgga has hired help nosing around about a missing spice shipment," Ferrigo stared at Hondo. "And I have nothing to do with it. I'm wondering why he's so concerned with a small shipment that neither you, nor me, would give a womp rat's rear about," Prosstang adjusted the blaster slightly, holding it across his left thigh. "And why Xossk would be directing these amateurs to shake us down for information. Unless you're still keeping up the routine we set up years ago."

"No, I don't handle small shipments like the one posted under Anurgga's number on the Cartel's contractor board. Very interesting, indeed that his chief bodyguard would want to shake us down." Ohnaka sat down behind his desk. "Can I get you some aged Corellian whiskey?"

"I would appreciate it, thanks." Ferrigo took a deep breath. "I'm wondering why now? If this is basically following the same method of the operation we set up..."

"You have a good nose for such things, Schingo. What do you think this is about?" Ohnaka left his chair gracefully to attend the wet bar and prepare drinks.

Ferrigo withheld his true thoughts about the situation, but decided to probe the Weequay about the lover they had in common. "Not really sure, Hondo. Do you think Helegas could be involved? Taking an old page from our playbook?"

"Ha! Tch tch tch."

"What is it, Hondo? I'm asking you, because I don't talk to her anymore. Haven't since she left Tatooine to become a pirate." Ferrigo lied.

Hondo Ohnaka picked up both glasses and walked toward Ferrigo, handing him a glass of ice and dark brown beverage. "I know that isn't true. Less than two years ago, I heard from one of our former comrades, Seeff Bandridge. The human. The smooth operator that he is. He said that she was carrying another of your children in her womb. And, that she was retiring from the grand profession."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ferrigo furrowed his brow.

"She decided that being Raaleena Velrrus was a safer life for her and your children, dear friend. Safer than Helegas Eenier, pregnant pirate babe. Ahhh, such a beauty, she was. And your son, so handsome and quick." Ohnaka sat on the edge of his desk and sipped from his glass.

"You kidnap any of my children, again, and your balls will be handed to you in a nerf-hide pouch. Got that, Ohnaka?" Ferrigo glared into Ohnaka's eyes.

The Weequay spat his drink in shock and stammered. "Waitwaitwaitwha-?! That was a misunderstanding! I was training the boy!"

Ferrigo brandished his pistol as if prepared to point it at Ohnaka.

"Buhdipdahderdipdeh-! I would never do that to a friend! Not you, Schingo! And I did love her. So beautiful and sweet. I would no sooner see her hurt than you would!"

"So, you're saying that Helegas is not likely involved in this."

The Weequay regained his composure and spoke quickly. "Yes, yes, yes. Not involved."

"Xossk," Ferrigo slowly leveled his blaster at his one-time colleague. "What about him? What's going on with our short-armed Trandoshan friend?

Hondo Ohnaka gulped audibly, and opened his raised hands. "Look-" the pirate grabbed the heel of his holstered right blaster and pushed it down, so that the barrel moved up toward Ferrigo.

Before Ohnaka could get his trigger finger into position, Ferrigo's quick shot with exceptional accuracy caused the Weequay's pistol to explode in shards that tore into the pirate's desk, and his hand, arm and right side. Ferrigo drew his left hand Taddie from his left hip holster and rolled to his right as Ohnaka fell to the floor before him, folding his arms across his chest.

"Aaaaagghhhhh!!!" the Weequay shook and screamed in pain.

Four Weequay poured into the office from two doors, both within Ferrigo's field of fire.

As soon as they arrived, Ferrigo dispatched them from the living with fewer than six rapid blaster shots, their gore pouring down the walls from above head level. He kept an eye on Ohnaka as he rose and listened intently for other activity in the hallways and approached the dead Weequay and Nikto guards, whose head-wound blaster holes smoked and released an acrid odor.

"I guess this means you're part of this deal, Hondo. Sorry to have to end your life like this. Over small stakes. And your loyalty to a sleazy, treacherous Trandoshan." Ferrigo leveled both of his blasters at Ohnaka.

"Don't kill me, please, Velrrus. I am a bad man, yes. But I couldn't resist a huge payout." The Weequay pirate leader raised his hands above his balding, horned head. "Pure profit. My great weakness."

"Huge. How large, and who's paying?"

Hondo Ohnaka seemed to be considering his options. Ferrigo quickly kicked the Weequay in the face with a swing of his right boot.

"Now! I'm not kriffing around Ohnaka! You kriffed with my woman and child. You don't tell me the right answers and your brains end up on the desk! Now!"

Ohnaka sobbed. "You handsome and multi-talented bastard, you've loosened my teeth."

"I'll cut out your tongue and throw it on your datapad. Next to what's left of your brains after I karking blow them out of your skull, like your henchmen over there. I gave you five years' head start to get running. Or to set things right with me. Looks like you've done neither. You know what I can do, and have done. And still you think you can pull a scam on Schingo Velrrus."

"It's not that easy, Velahroosa. You should know, I never hit your businesses, including Brilliant Chemicals. I even stay away from Makem Te. I'm not that stupid," Ohnaka glanced up from the floor as he remained on his hands and knees as blood trickled from his face, and right hand. "But the payout for me on this easy job...was in six figures' worth of Troiken spice. I could have turned a tidy profit. Nearly a million."

"Then you'll do your part," Ferrigo holstered his left blaster, and kept his right blaster steady on the Weequay. "And keep up this charade. After you tell me all of the details. Partner."

In the next twenty minutes, Ohnaka told Ferrigo as much as he seemed to know about the operation, and the two finished their drinks.

"That was all very interesting, Hondo. Be sure to play this as I've told you. Or I'll be back. And what else do you know not to do?"

"I don't come after you, or Raaleena, your children, or anyone you know. Not without consulting you first. You karking handsome, talented bastard." Hondo sighed.

"Ever your friend. And mentor." Ferrigo smiled and holstered his right blaster in his left shoulder holster. "And Hondo, you'd better get some medical attention soon."

Prosstang then turned and left the office, then the pirate stronghold, and entered The Serpent's Pride after he placed his fingers on the security reader pad and gazed his left eye into the retinal scanner. He hit the comm button as he closed the ramp and interior cargo bay hatch. "Wait-For. We're leaving Florrum. Prep the engines and set astronavigation for Troiken."

The Cards Missing
"You know, Ferrigo, Redar Velrrus wasn't very helpful after all," Alor'akada Neviik's voice was slightly tinged with static as the holo-projected image faded and jumped. Jannigo Prosstang stood next to her in silence.

Ferrigo stood next to the large holo-table in the aft section of The Serpent's Pride with his arms folded, wearing his Prosstang Industries red frock coat, black boots, and dark slacks. His long, brown hair was pulled back into a tail. He stroked his beard for another moment before speaking. "What could we have expected?"

"I think maybe you should have set us up as employees of Prosstang Industries," Alor'akada seemed to bite her tongue before continuing. "And how did you do with Hondo Ohnaka?"

"I was hoping that you or Jannigo would put it together, that you would work out an approach to Velrrus. Taking my cue," Ferrigo inhaled. "Jannigo is, after all, an employee of Prosstang Industries. That didn't occur to you Jannigo? Or you were too distracted by the job at hand?" The older Prosstang gestured toward Alor'akada.

Jannigo began to speak, but Ferrigo raised a prohibitive hand before pointing at the dimunitive woman.

"And you, Alor'akada. After your performance on Galidraan, and your experience with Velrrus there, I expected you to be sharper than a hired hand. You're on for half of this contract. I expect professional quality work from you, if not from my cousin," Ferrigo then regarded them both. "If you're both distracted, I'll pay you out of this contract. I need this job to go well. No time for failure or new love to bloom. You two can work that out later."

"Velrrus is not a pushover, di'kut." Alor'akada moved to close the holo-transmission.

"I know. Not so hasty, Ms. Neviik. We still need to coordinate the next steps," Ferrigo said icily. "I didn't have much luck with meeting Hondo Ohnaka, either. But I was able to get an informant among his upper ranks to spill a few leads. Onderon. And Nar Shaddaa."

"What's on Onderon and Nar Shaddaa?" Jannigo's holo-image opened his hands casually.

"Resources to move us forward on this hunt for the missing spice," Ferrigo raised his right index finger. "First resource is a woman on Onderon with ties to piracy, specifically in the spice trade. I was told she is employed by one of Redar Velrrus' firms, Brilliant Chemicals Corporation. But she has a side gig that makes much more money. Be careful. She was also said to have a possible connection to a funding network related to our very own friends, the Death Watch."

"Sounds like it's up your alley, Jannigo," the holo-image of Alor'akada turned to face her companion.

"I agree, Neviik." Ferrigo pointed to Jannigo's image. "But he's going to have to consider his options. If there is anything real about this woman's connection with the Death Watch, he might want to play to that. You might have to budget for some native footpads or toadies to find that out before either of you make your direct approach."

"And what about Nar Shaddaa?" the holo-image of Jannigo rubbed his chin as he looked at Ferrigo after glancing at Alor'akada.

"I was a little surprised about this myself. It seems that the Trandoshan that Alor'akada spoke to, Anurgga's right hand and chief guardian has his claws in this mix-up. Deep. Word was that Xossk might have been trying to setup two former employees of Anurgga the Hutt."

"Why would he do that?" Jannigo shook his head.

"Probably to strengthen his own position, ner di'kutla vod." Alor'akada Neviik's words made Ferrigo smile.

"Hey." Jannigo protested. "And who were the employees?"

Ferrigo asked with a gesture toward her. "You were there, Neviik. Do you think that the Trandoshan has things under control in Anurgga's Palace on Nar Shaddaa?"

"Not sure." Neviik folded her arms. "I'm not that familiar with Trandoshans or Hutts, though. I had one contract with Anurgga before, and then Xossk told me about this job. Before they posted it to the Cartel system."

"Well, that's why I think you need to share what you know with him, and see where he goes with that." Ferrigo paused to let the suggestion sink in. There were no responses, so he continued. "I don't have any reason to believe that Anurgga Besadii would be trying to track down a shipment of spice if he stole that spice from Redar Velrrus. That would be Velrrus' skin in the game. Someone is setting a trap. Maybe for us."

Alor'akada and Jannigo looked at each other, then back to Ferrigo.

Jannigo spoke up again. "Who were the employees Xossk was trying to set up?"

Ferrigo shook his head. "You two head to Onderon and then Nar Shaddaa. I am going to have a talk with Redar Velrrus about Xossk, and see what he can tell me. Neviik, you fill Jannigo in on who's involved with this. Ret'urcye Mhi."

"Ret'urcye Mhi." They responded before Ferrigo ended the transmission.

The Hole Cards
Prosstang then returned to the flight deck. ''Jannigo. Gar utreekov.''

CZ-DV8 turned to regard his master. "Master Velrrus, thank you again for the opportunity to utilize my Xextese vocabulator. A rare pleasure indeed to meet the Xexto on their home planet."

"Well, thank you, Deevee-Eight." Ferrigo put his hand on his business-protocol droid's shoulder. "I wouldn't have been able to complete the transaction on behalf of Xossk for all of that Troiken spice without you."

"A rather large shipment, if I do say so, sir." Deevee-Eight's eyes blinked before the droid turned to face the cockpit view panel.

"And a lucrative one at that, Deevee." Ferrigo checked a few of the navigation screens. "I'm going to hit the rack for some serious sleep, boys. Wait-For. Let me know when we reach the Saari Ha system. We'll need to refuel and refresh on Bimmisaari. We have a rendezvous with Dhettos Kuporr."

Chirp. Weet. Bwoop.

Ferrigo smiled and gestured to his faded purple and gold astromech. "Be sure to have some patch codes for the port terminal ready to show a longer stay with the Bimms, Wait-For. Two extra days in dry dock for miscellaneous repairs. We'll tie it to the Warrior Lust Trading freighter Dhettos arrives in. I want to allow a few exceptions. A trail of nerf bits for a few expected guests. We're going to take a quiet detour to Boz Pity to pay our respects to the deceased. Present and future."

Recovering a Pinch of Spice, Part II - A Hunt For The Hunted (42 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“We thank you, Trandoshan. We have the opportunity to settle a score, earn honor, and a small fortune.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You will bring meeee…the merchandisssse. Unharmed, unmarked.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“But of course. As a representative of the glorious Clan Vizsla, I assure you tha—,” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Mandalorianssss don’t impresss me. I don’t care about your clansss.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">– The Mandalorian warrior known among colleagues and enemies simply as ‘Galaar’ offers appreciation from his team of hunters, as they proceed in search of Ferrigo Prosstang after departing Bimmisaari.

Emptiness
Ferrigo had been walking for half an hour, wearing his customized red-painted Prosstang Industries Security beskar'gam. He looked around the scrub and trees of an area littered with large bones, including intact rib cages, from the extinct Gargantelle, a gigantic species that Prosstang recalled learning about in his early academy studies. Seeing their bones in person, set into the soil of Boz Pity was impressive. An hour before, Prosstang had seen two other vessels arriving, and several leaving as he made his approaching roll into the atmosphere of the lonely planet. DV8 had said that people from near the region often brought their dead for burial on Boz Pity.

Ferrigo had turned to Dhettos. "This is huge, Kuporr. Ferrigo Prosstang has hired me to do this job. We're setting a trap for several threats to him. So, you're clear on the setup and what you might need to do?"

"Believe it or not, Velrrus, I've flown this ship occasionally for the last six years. And your training, on an off, during that time has actually made me more than an annoyance. I won't let you down." Dhettos Kuporr had begun to put on the spare Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam set.

"If it doesn't feel right, or Deevee-Eight tells you to stay with the ship, then stay with the ship." Ferrigo had gently pointed his hand at waist level toward Dhettos Kuporr. "I just need you here as backup. If things get hairy like a bantha's shebs, you can set up on the lowered cargo ramp to support me. I have a few sniper rifles loaded in the rack in the cargo hold. Use the Verpine. I trained you to use it. And always your Taddie blasters holstered and ready."

"Got it." Dhettos had said softly. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Ferrigo had tapped a few buttons on a nearby console to bring up a map featuring a canyon, with an array of images from different view angles of the same geography. "Stay alive. Shoot only if your HUD gives you clear indication of red."

Boz Pity had no native sentient species, but several non-sentient species. Including a few reek that seemed quite interested in Ferrigo's patrol craft after he departed on foot. Several mynocks flew over head.

He set his HUD to receive data from DV8 and Wait-For, including relayed analysis from his armor's on-board sensory devices. He cradled his right hand Taddie across his left gauntlet and approached a ridge overlooking a shallow box canyon that was plushly filled with vegetation.

"Master Velrrus. There seem to be a few signatures of various sizes and motion vectors in your two hundred meter vicinity." Deevee-Eight's voice was slightly elevated.

"Thanks, Deevee. Please switch to text comm in my HUD and shut down the voice unless the ship is being breached, okay?"

-Yes, sir.

The text displayed on the left side of his HUD. Ferrigo smiled, and glanced around his HUD display for camera feeds and informational cues, as he also watched what he saw through the T-visor of his helmet. The left side of his HUD dropped a few lines of text as he approached what appeared to be a path that debouched into the box canyon below.

''-Vessel entering Boz Pity atmosphere within planetary sector N-07. Transponder code CF-PSI-01293T. ''

"Deevee-Eight. Please check that last transmission. Confirm through the Bureau of Ships and Services. That can't be right." Ferrigo shook his head and raised his blaster as he began to tread carefully down the grass and gravelly dirt path to the canyon floor ten meters below.

-Confirmed CF-PSI-01293T.

"Not likely, Deevee. That's one of the Prosstang Industries spare fleet vehicles for hauling debris. Not one of the guests I had Wait-For provide clearance regarding our true destination."

-Deceased laborers are debris, sir? The vessel is also loaded with other cargo, with destinations along the Greater Kashyyyk Branch.

"You masked our transponder, right? We're still on Bimmisaari in dry dock, as far as BoSS is concerned, right? Our transmissions are scrambled and masked on low frequency, right?" Ferrigo was a bit perturbed.

''-Yes to all of your questions, Master Velrrus. We landed several kilometers from your destination, correct?''

"Yes, Deevee." Ferrigo took a slow, deep breath. "Can you seamlessly tap into that ship's mainframe and find out who is piloting it?"

"Unfortunately, no, sir," the business-protocol droid seemed to perk up with pride as he continued. "At my suggestion and guidance, you yourself added security features to the sublight engine mainframes of all Prosstang Industries vessels around five years ago to prevent such unauthorized access of sensitive data."

"Great." Ferrigo looked around uneasily, as his HUD did not show any vessels entering the area. "Remind me to update those features to include a manual master code override."

Dhettos Kuporr rasped softly. "Need me to go investigate?"

"No, Kuporr. Be vigilant, but remain with the ship."

"Ah. Actually, I did, Master Velrrus, sir. And you added such a code." Deevee-Eight still seemed proud in his tone. "It will require you to answer a few questions, Master Velrrus, to verify y--."

"Just activate the karking master code override, Deevee!!" Ferrigo yelled into his helmet and looked back toward the pathway until he arrived in the small, shallow canyon.

-Yes, sir. 

The Box Canyon Kill Zone
Ferrigo looked around the canyon and scanned for life other forms. After twenty minutes of examining the shelter he found burrowed into the eastern face of the thumb-shaped box canyon, the Mandalorian found very little trace of his nemesis. He found no traps. Only scraps and bones that appeared to have been discarded many months, or even years before.

"You were here Xossk. But how long ago? And will you take the bait I've set out?" Ferrigo murmured aloud as he inspected the rest of the dwelling before heading back outside.

Prosstang spent the next twenty minutes carefully planting five micro-sonic explosive charges into the ground in an irregular arc around the canyonside dwelling. He had become familiar with these charges as part of his father's tutelage on geology and mining techniques used at a variety of industrial scales. The charges he stocked in his cargo pockets were typically used in small mining operations, but were also very handy for a resourceful bounty hunter needing to make a quick escape.

''The kill zone. Here I am, Xossk. Or traitorous scum. You are coming to my trap. ''

Within seconds of Ferrigo's thoughts, the left side of his HUD dropped several lines of text from DV8.

-''Sir, it appears that CF-PSI-01293T has landed two kilometers south of your position. Four organic mobile forms have departed the vessel. Vectoring for your position at fifty meters per second.''

"Maybe they're heading here to take care of Xossk." Ferrigo thought aloud into his helmet as he hustled into shelter to place the last of the micro-sonic explosive charges in the rear of the shelter. He then ran to the far side of the canyon from the dwelling before he activated the remote detonator and hid among thick shrubs.

"Want me to set up to snipe or intercept, Schingo?" Dhettos asked.

"Not in the plan. The plan is code green still," Ferrigo murmured. "For now."

After several minutes of waiting, Ferrigo spotted four human forms wearing Mandalorian shocktrooper armor carefully debouched from the path along the far side of the canyon, sweeping with their blaster carbines, and surely scanning with their on-board gear.

-Sir, the life forms have named themselves Aranov, Marev, Cabur, and Galaar.

"The guys from Galidraan?" Dhettos said nervously. "I'm getting the rifle now."

"The plan is still green-to-gold, Kuporr. Hang tight," Ferrigo closed his eyes for a moment. ''Alor'akada. Jannigo. What have you done? What have you gotten yourselves into? ''"But go ahead and get your gear set up in the cargo hold, ready to go."

''-Master Velrrus. They are looking for Ferrigo Prosstang. Or his guardian, Redar Velrrus. Intention to kill Velrrus, capture Prosstang.''

Ferrigo whispered. "Today, they won't have a choice."

''-Sir, R4-W8 suggests we deactivate the hyperdrive of CF-PSI-01293T remotely and extract you from your present location after careful preparations. ''

Remaining very still, Ferrigo whispered. "Careful preparations?"

-Surgical bombardment of the four targets with The Serpent's Pride's ion weapons, sir.

"Deactivate, then. And you have a lock on their positions?" Ferrigo whispered as he watched the presumed Death Watch crew spreading out in their search of the canyon. "Get the engines going. Low power, enough for staying off the ground, but ready to blow this place after extraction. Got it?"

''-Yes on relative target locks, sir. Engines starting now. R4-W8 is calculating the extraction given the terrain and dimensional requirements of our vessel. Good luck, sir. The scouting unit seems to believe that Ferrigo Prosstang might have been guided here to be trapped by a Trandoshan. They find it odd that Prosstang is not here already, as reported to them by a Getal. ''

"Great," Dhettos replied to Ferrigo's commands to the droids, and the firing up of The Serpent's Pride's engines. "I'm ready to take out some Death Watch scum. If we have to hold and hover, Deevee, turn the aft to face the extraction point and lower the loading ramp."

-Yes, sir, Master Kuporr, sir.

Ferrigo smiled, then whispered. "ETA for the fireworks, Deevee?"

-Beg pardon, sir?

"How long until you bombard my enemies?" Prosstang said softly, remaining still.

-''Two minutes, sir. Oh. Another vessel signature received entering Boz Pity at a high rate of speed.''

"What vessel, Deevee?" Ferrigo muttered, then thought to quiet his voice after the fact.

-CF-PSI-05--

In an instant, Ferrigo blinked as an explosion knocked his HUD power out momentarily and shook the ground. Trails of dirt and small rock fragments scattered down the canyon walls. The loud sound of a reverse vacuum that seemed to fuel an expanding blue plasma disc roared through the canyon and neatly bisected one of the trackers. The exploded micro-sonic mine created a smoldering, meter-wide groove within five meters of either side of the slumping, armored body pieces.

The remaining trackers yelled at each other and looked around anxiously, waving their weapons. "Marev!!"

"Deevee, that's the opening call sign of one of our ships! Are you sure?!" Ferrigo grinned slightly on hearing of Marev's demise.

-''Confirmed. CF-PSI-05013S.''

Alor'akada! ''Haar'chak! Snake Bite?!''

A loud, rumbling engine roar and whine thundered throughout the canyon as Ferrigo saw his faded grey YV-330 coast slowly above the canyon floor by about thirty meters.

"Hold your position, Wait-For."

-''Sir. CF-PSI-05013S is sending an encoded transmission. Shall I decode and transmit to your HUD?''

"Patch them through. Audio. Make it quick, Deevee." Ferrigo muttered.

"--ulik. Orikih'vinka and Jan'k here in support. Preparing to land in a small canyon. Your ship signal is due south two kilometers. Picking up your signal, three others, below." Alor'akada's voice filled Ferrigo's helmet with relief and a slight sense of panic.

"No! Orikih'vinka! It's a trap!" Ferrigo shouted in his helmet. He shifted his gaze back to the ground. Prosstang readied both of his Taddie blasters and checked his gauntlet weapons systems. All appeared in good functional status. "Those other signals here are after me!"

"That's why I have your cousin in the turret, ner di'kut!" Ferrigo could hear the smile in Alor'akada's voice.

A split second later, as the trackers seemed to be carefully backtracking their steps toward tree cover, the Snake Bite's forward blaster turret began tearing up the ground near the far side of the canyon.

"Lor'ika, you gotta get outta here!" Ferrigo shouted, then clucked his tongue to change to The Serpent's Pride frequency. "Deevee, head in for extraction. Lower rear ramp, I'll take care of the rest with a self-launched evac from ground."

"Not leaving without you, cyar'ika," Alor'akada growled. "Get your shab'la shebs ready for evac. Where in Kad Ha'rangir are you?!"

"Go! Go, baby, go! My ride is on its way!"

"No, it's not, Ferrigo. It's still sitting there to the south." Alor'akada groaned.

"They commandeered a Prosstang company ship. That's not my ride. You have to move it, baby!"

The rumble of another engine filled the canyon, and Ferrigo saw his large, D5-Mantis craft approaching, lumbering in from the northeast.

Alor'akada Neviik gasped then babbled. "Hod Ha'ran, chakaar. Murcyur ner shebs, chayaikir ner munad."

"Elek ni murcyur gar cyar'shebs, Orikih'vinka. 'Nari! Nari!" Ferrigo rattled his response quickly as he prepared his jetpack for propulsion.

The three remaining trackers fired their pack rockets upward into the Snake Bite, just as it began to surge forward.

"Ferrigo?! I love you, Ferrigo Prosstang, but I'm..."

The sound of three booming explosions above was accompanied by the sucking of air and shrubbery from all around Ferrigo as he turned away and attempted to launch into the air.

"Sen'tra!!" Ferrigo began to surge upward, seeing globular blooms of flame expanding and multiplying over his right shoulder. He clucked his tongue. "Yacur, cyar'ika!!"

The outburst of the explosions pushed him away from the canyon as he rose above the rim. He spun as quickly as he could, holstering his left Taddie blaster seamlessly as he took an account of what he saw and integrated from his HUD.

The freighter that he had customized only in the year before began to unravel panel by panel, bathed with balls of flame of a rippling series of smaller explosions. Before his eyes, the Snake Bite seemed to lurch and slowly plunge toward the southern rim of the canyon.

"Lora!!!" Ferrigo raspingly yelled. "Jan'k!!"

He saw three figures with jetpacks rising beyond the form of the rattling YV-330 freighter. Ferrigo immediately fired two micro-missiles from his left gauntlet toward the three trackers, and aimed himself forward toward the Snake Bite as it sank and crumbled in tendrils of smoking flame. His jetpack accelerated.

As the freighter aft dropped, and the nose yawed towards him and started to roll to its port side, Ferrigo glimpsed Alor'akada's Nite Owl helmet. He saw her visor gazing at him.

"Lora!!"

"-rigo! Goin' dow-" Her transmission was cut off.

Two of the trackers were hit by the tracking micro-missiles, exploding their armor on impact and sending their smoldering forms plummeting toward the ground, beyond the freighter as it coasted toward a crash landing.

The freighter rear engine assembly shimmered and burst with a short report of cracking booms as it hit the canyon floor. Shaking everything that Ferrigo could see. He raced toward the flight deck of the Snake Bite. The ground and air vibration sent up a large dirt cloud, mixing with the flame to create a storm of sparkling flame all around the area. The waves of the explosions resisted his progress, but soon he was atop the flight compartment near the top hatch.

Ferrigo reached down with his left hand as he crouched on his right knee and flipped open a touchpad console next to the hatch. "Lora!!" His HUD showed a rapidly approaching red target at twenty meters. Without looking, Ferrigo pointed his right hand blaster upward until a green light flashed, then quickly and repeatedly squeezed his trigger.

The distorted clangs and screeches of blaster bolts hitting beskar and duraplast rang out as the majority of Ferrigo's rapid shots hit their target - Galaar.

Galaar swung his boots forward to land mid-ship on the steeply slanted surface of the wreckage of the Snake Bite. The fuselage was broken at the engine extension. Flames surrounded the Death Watchman as he began his careful ascent toward the flight compartment.

"Like men." Galaar rasped.

Ferrigo watched as The Serpent's Pride hovered within one hundred meters of their position, and rotated around to its left. "Wait-For. Target acquisition."

-Sir. Target acquired.

"Fire." Ferrigo then clucked his tongue.

A sharp pulsing orb of white light slammed Galaar from behind, which knocked him face-first into the top of the Snake Bite before hurtling him onto the ground below. Ferrigo was thrown off of the Snake Bite as well, but his quick jetpack activation and exceptional balance allowed him to hover after a short blowback. He returned to the top hatch after seeing Galaar sprawled out in the canyon below.

"Nice of you to visit, demagol." Ferrigo muttered, then returned to his kneeling position to tap out the code to unlock the top hatch. A seethe of air emitted as the seal loosened. Ferrigo reached under the hatch handle and pulled up.

"Oh thank Kad Ha'rangir. But I can't get out. I'm pinned," Alor'akada's helmet visor regarded Ferrigo. "Jannigo is down there. Not responding."

"Can you unfasten your restraints, Lor'ika?" Ferrigo shifted his head and looked inside the smoking flight compartment.

"Just get in here and get us out," Alor'akada sounded weary and nervous. "Big kiss for you. And more. When we're safe at home."

The Serpent's Pride continued to hover its aft cargo ramp nearer. Fifty meters distance, its roaring engines thrumming and raising flaming dust from the destruction of the Snake Bite's engines.

Ferrigo took a deep breath. "We had company out here."

"You di'kut," Neviik groaned. "That's maybe why I'm strapped into a kriffing firetrap? Just get in here, and get us out!"

Ferrigo turned and looked down to the starboard side of the flaming freighter. Galaar still laid still, on his back. Prosstang shifted, and lowered himself through the hatch and behind Alor'akada's flight chair. She wasn't wearing a jetpack, which made it easier as his hands deftly unfastened the harness straps from her chest and waist. He then made great effort and succeeded with a loud gritting grunt in lifting the control console panel from her legs.

"You should be able to move, Alor'akada." Ferrigo sighed in relief. "I'm going down to check on Jannigo."

Ferrigo looked down into the turret compartment and saw Jannigo laying unconcious, wearing beskar'gam with the colors of Clan Vizsla.

"Jan'k. Get your karking shebs up, ner vod. We have to get out of this ship, now!" Ferrigo reached down and grabbed Jannigo's collar. "He's strapped in. I can't climb in there with him."

"What are you going to do? Leave him?!" Alor'akada gasped. "The rear of the ship, the heat is starting to melt the mid-ship, cyar'ika. We need to get him out. He's your cousin, for Hod Ha'ran's sake!"

Ferrigo scowled. "Get your sheb'ika over her Orikih'vinka. Now!"

She came to his side as he rose to his knees and grabbed her hips abovev her utility belt. "What are you doing?"

"I'm holding you upside down so you can undo his harness. The turret compartment is too small for me." Ferrigo forcefully bent her over and pushed her head-first into the compartment tube to face Jannigo.

"Okay, okay, di'kut. No need to manhandle me," Alor'akada grumbled then chirped. "Though I do like it."

Ferrigo shook his head and adjusted his grip on the tiny Mandalorian woman, admiring for a moment her figure as he seemingly held her with little effort.

"Okay, it's done. Unfastened. Can I take his helmet off and slap him?"

"As you will." Ferrigo sighed. "People may talk."

"I won't say anything," Alor'akada gasped. "Though it was your idea to lower me in here like this."

"You are a bad girl, Alor'akada Neviik." Ferrigo shook his head, and raised his diminutive lover after he heard a solid slap of glove hide on his cousin's face. He set her on her hands and knees next to him at the turret chute opening.

"I know," her voice inflected with a smile as her visor regarded him directly. "This could have people talking. I love you, Ferrigo Prosstang."

His heart warmed, and he gently leaned forward to tap the forehead of his helmet against her helmet. He then turned to look into the chute. "Get out, Jannigo. She's not going to slap you again. Not again today." Ferrigo leaned his torso into the chute, and Alor'akada held his waist as he started to grab for Jannigo's hands. "Get your bucket, ner vod."

Jannigo picked up his helmet and put it on. "Har'chaak. I can't feel my legs."

"I'll pull you up to the ledge." Ferrigo grunted as he lifted Jannigo, holding his cousin's wrists and forearms as he drew himself backward. For comfort as much as function, Alor'akada continued to hold Ferrigo's hips and grunt along with him until the younger Prosstang made it to the rim of the turret chute. Sensibly, Jannigo was also not wearing a jetpack.

"Thanks, ner vod," Jannigo gasped.

"What are you two doing here?" Ferrigo growled. "Nevermind, let's get out of here first."

Ferrigo climbed out first, then aided a hobbling Jannigo through the exterior top hatch before reaching down and pulling Alor'akada up with one hand as she clutched his forearm tightly.

"Velrrus, have your crew bring the ship closer for evac," Ferrigo glanced around, and spotted Galaar still motionless on the canyon floor below. "Spot any other hostiles?"

"No," Dhettos Kuporr said softly. "None."

-Sir, it appears that a large Corellian freighter, a YV-666 variant, is attempting to hail us from the edge of the Boz Pity system.

"Deevee, prep the infirmary table. Wait-For, hustle it up a little, buddy. Open the full cargo door. Velrrus, stay on alert. Chesker, come out to assist Velrrus on the ramp." Ferrigo and Alor'akada both helped Jannigo stand up.

The Serpent's Pride was now lowering toward the topside of the smoldering Snake Bite. Ferrigo noticed Galaar shifting and moving from his spot on the canyon floor. Chesker and Dhettos assisted Ferrigo in lifting Jannigo onto the lip of the cargo loading ramp of the Mantis-class patrol ship. Ferrigo turned to Alor'akada and started to squat and put his hands on her waist.

"We're not done here, Prosstang!"

Ferrigo lifted Alor'akada easily up onto the hovering loading ramp, where Chesker and Dhettos could securely grab her and help her toward the center of the ramp.

"You're wrong." Ferrigo fired several explosive pellets from his left gauntlet toward the lanky Death Watchman, who attempted to duck and dive toward the canyon floor.

Small explosions tore apart the soil and limited foliage that covered the slope that Galaar had stood on. Ferrigo quickly activated his jetpack to rise onto the loading ramp, as The Serpent's Pride began its gentle spin to face southward. Dhettos helped Jannigo into the cargo hold as the air turbulence whipped around Alor'akada and Ferrigo. She held him tightly as they both gazed at the destruction they left behind.

"Wait-For, re-activate the hyperdrive on the big freighter, and link the controls to my HUD and right gauntlet. Dhettos, Chesker, activate the repulsorsleds with the green container stacks," Ferrigo took a deep breath. "I'm going to pilot The Hopping Shaak out of here. I'm sure Prosstang Industries has some shipments that need to be delivered. Meet up with you in a week."

"What?! What about the job?" Alor'akada was incensed. "You can't leave unfinished business. Not professional." She said flippantly with expressive body language.

"I never said I wasn't finishing the job. I'm taking a different path to get there," Ferrigo folded his arms, right gauntlet over left. In the background, the large freighter's cargo ramp opened and lowered to the plush grass. "You want to join me, and earn your half of the job?"

Neviik gasped and turned toward the short staircase to the crew quarters and infirmary. "What about Jannigo?"

"His pay is not my concern. He's part of your half of the job. Judging by the way things worked out here, you might want to consider asking for a discount."

"He's your cousin," Alor'akada insisted.

Ferrigo turned and walked down the ramp before turning his head. Their voices were entirely audible inside their helmets. Jannigo's helmet was deactivated, sitting on the deck.

"Is your lead on Onderon still alive?" Ferrigo gestured his open hand with a wave.

"No," Alor'akada lowered her helmet slightly. "She died. I caught the trail of these di'kute from the scene of her murder."

"He's dead weight, then. If you have something for him, stay behind," Ferrigo motioned Dhettos and Chesker to move the repulsorsleds to the large, bulky freighter bearing painted Prosstang Industries emblems and lettering in Aurebesh and Mando'a. "I have to go. See you back on Mandalore. Unless you and Jannigo have vacation plans."

"I should dart you right now," Alor'akada seethed with a trembling voice.

Ferrigo began to walk away. "It's all yours, cyar'ika." Prosstang said without humor as he looked up at the freighter cargo hold to see it was half-full with a variety of containers.

-Sir, the Wraith of Boz Pity is hailing us.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue to speak on a secured line with his business-protocol droid. "Yes, you said that, Deevee. How is that possible?" Ferrigo cleared his throat. "We run a ghost ship. Go audio Deevee."

"Sir, as before, after the Velrrus Enterprises excursion to Galidraan with Ms. Bacha and Mr. Kuporr. There is an anomolous trace, that is not a beacon, but seems to have similar properties."

Ferrigo clucked his tongue and squinted his left eye to open a private channel with Dhettos and DV8. "Velrrus, please tell the Wraith of Boz Pity that you have his goods and are going to be in Zeltros in a week. Head for Nar Shaddaa once you shake him, arrange transport for Jannigo and the rest to Mandalore in a few days."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Prosstang. You pay the bills." Dhettos said wryly, as he, Ferrigo, and Chesker moved the repulsorsleds up the Hopping Shaak's cargo ramp. "Will I be needed in Zeltros? I don't think Mi'ila would approve unless it was business only."

"On thinking it over, yes. After finishing your drop at Mandalore, pick up Mi'ila and come out for a vacation. The auth codes are already in the system." Ferrigo helped to push the sleds to fit neatly within a void of space in the large freighter and cut their power so that they sank to the floor slowly. "The two of you need a vacation. On me."

"Thank you, sir." Dhettos extended his right hand.

Ferrigo grasped it and shook firmly. "You're welcome, ner vod. You'd better get going and fast."

Dhettos jogged to The Serpent's Pride, several strides behind the DUM-droid. Ferrigo cast a long glance at his Mantis patrol craft from the expansive opening of the Hopping Shaak's cargo hold. He saw a commotion at the door hatch after the interior full-cargo door of The Serpent's Pride closed. Alor'akada Neviik sprinted down the ramp onto the wind-swept grass, and made a straight path toward Ferrigo.

Prosstang hit the large red panel button to the right of the cargo ramp opening to begin its closure after the tiny Mandalorian woman collapsed loudly on the ventilated deck. He then walked over and lifted her up after tapping a few buttons on his right gauntlet and muttering a few commands into his voice receptor. The large freighter, jolted, and Ferrigo grasped Neviik in his arms with his legs spread to keep them upright as the vehicle lifted from the ground with a louder thrumming of the engines that seemed to fill the cargo hold with near deafening sound.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue and tapped the side of his helmet as he looked down at the young woman in his arms.

Neviik's voice blurted life into the channel, with sound dampening tightly around it. "Wow. This is a beast." He could hear her smile.

"Let's head to the cockpit to get the course set straight." Ferrigo sighed with a smile.

Ferrigo sat down in the pilot's seat.

"Where am I supposed to sit? A one seater?" Alor'akada sat down in Ferrigo's lap after nearly a half-minute of silence with the freighter finally exiting the atmosphere of Boz Pity.

Recovering a Pinch of Spice, Part III - The Tail of Lovers (42 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You should never have crossed me, and taken what was rightfully mine. I trusted you.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Rightfully yours? You underestimated me, Ghetta. And my feelings for Ferrigo. And his for me. He’s mine. We married last night. By the time we return to Mandalore, I hope to announce that we’re starting a family. My future. My Aliit’alor.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Neviik. Don’t forget who trained you, and what you’ve already done to damage that man’s life. You may think you’ve won your freedom. But you know what I can do.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I’ll come clean with Ferrigo. He loves me like crazy.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Your fingerprints are all over the attack on Relia. Don’t be stupid, as well as crazy, kid. You may be getting Ferrigo Prosstang’s attention for a different reason if you don’t get back in line, and follow my directions.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">– Ghetta Dehet to Alor’akada Neviik-Prosstang via internal helmet comm link call, in regards to the price of being with Ferrigo Prosstang.

The Make Up Run
Ferrigo typed in a few auth codes, and was able to determine the delivery schedule of the Hopping Shaak. "We have three destinations, according to ship's records."

"Why do I care?" Alor'akada shrugged.

"If Prosstang Industries doesn't provide excellent customer care, we lose business. We lose business, I don't have a business to run someday. Not good for the members of our clan who expect annual dividend checks."

The diminutive woman removed her helmet and set it on the dashboard, then removed Ferrigo's helmet after she asked him to relax his seals. She set his helmet down and turned to him with a soulful gaze.

"You are so lovable, Ferrigo Prosstang. I didn't know that you would be so thoughtful, resourceful, strong, and a great lover."

"You had Jannigo, didn't you?" Ferrigo asked with a slight air of concern.

"Well, yes. Pretty much every guy who wasn't married, Ferrigo. I couldn't get enough. But you knew that already."

"But after the mission started? You two seem really chummy."

"No!" Alor'akada seethed momentarily, and gently slapped his cheek before grabbing his hair. "That's in your head. I had Jannigo at the Hunting Lodge the night before I had you."

"Kal Skirata too?" Ferrigo inhaled.

"Kal Skirata was good too, very caring," Alor'akada put her hands on Ferrigo's hands. "But nothing and nobody compares to you."

Ferrigo guffawed and chuckled. "Well, I know the score."

"I talked to Kal, and Ghetta Dehet told me a lot too. I know you're no saint. Neither am I," Alor'akada seemed slightly saddened. "I happen to think you're the best I've ever had. I always wanted to be the Aliit'alor's wife. A dream of mine. But when I first met you, I realized that you might be able to control me, keep me in line. That you could have that power over me, has made me think about you for the last two years. That night last week at the Prosstang Lodge, you changed my life. I will kill for you, Ferrigo. I won't stand aside if you choose me, I won't cheat on you."

"Why would you have to stand aside?" Ferrigo asked, puzzled.

"I'm just saying that I am committed to you, committed to us." Alor'akada clarified.

"Ghetta Dehet. Not someone you should trust. As we know, she thinks I belong to her. And that she has a right to run Clan Prosstang. If that's what you mean by standing aside, don't think on that anymore."

"I agree, let's not talk about her anymore, or anyone." Alor'akada sighed. "I'm sorry I brought it up. Just know that you are the best. But I won't be second place to anyone, Ferrigo Prosstang."

"I know." Ferrigo smiled as he looked into her eyes, the primary of Boz Pity sparkled in them. "After I get us set for Xoman Three, let's take a short nap. We can get something to eat when we arrive at the spaceport at Saerfahan."

"Sounds good to me," Alor'akada smiled and kissed Ferrigo's cheek. "I'll look for a place to nap."

Five minutes later, Ferrigo left the flight system on autopilot and looked for Alor'akada, but also had the BoSS datapad in hand to identify the containers that were supposed to have been delivered to Xoman Three. "Lor'ika?"

"Ori'viinulik?" he heard her respond. Ferrigo looked up into the upper level of the cargo hold to see Alor'akada up in a catch of fibra-rope cargo netting.

"Are you wearing anything?"

"Not right now." Alor'akada Neviik smiled. Though the soft light was dim from the ceiling and a few sturdy sconces built into the walls, Ferrigo could indeed see her smile, and lack of clothing. The cargo hold's walls were faded red in color.

"I'll be right up." Ferrigo tossed the datapad onto a set of crates. "Sen'tra ori'kih." His jetpack lauched him upward slowly until he grabbed the rope netting a few feet from the outside edge. "Gev." His jetpack cut out, and he lifted his left leg over the edge of the cargo net before rolling over onto his back.

He saw his little lover moving on the netting, rolling on her back with her feet up in the air. Totally open. His eyes bulged. He began to fidget with his gauntlets. A loud ping on his right gauntlet was followed by a loud buzz in the cargo hold that lasted two counts. Alor'akada gaped at him and laid on her side.

"I want you, Ferrigo Prosstang," Neviik said softly. "What is that buzzer all about?"

Ferrigo groaned. "We're already approaching the Xoman system. ETA..." he checked his gauntlet. "Five minutes."

"Can you strip down that fast?"

"No, but get over here, my little treasure," Ferrigo smiled, still wearing all of his armor except for his helmet. "I want a little snack."

For the next ten minutes, Alor'akada Neviik's moans, shouts, and whimpers joined Ferrigo Prosstang's hungry smacks and groans. After she had risen quickly to boiling, and overflowed a few times, Prosstang gripped the netting to brace and raise his armored torso above his naked Orikih'vinka to give her sweet, wet kisses.

She rubbed his beard. "Oh my stars. You made a quick meal of me, Prosstang. My hungry man. So sexy with your beskar'gam on."

"And you're so sexy, in or out of yours. I'll be back. Unless you plan on getting ready in the next quarter hour to join me at customs," Ferrigo wiped his beard and smiled. "You taste so karking delicious, little baby. I don't want to leave, but we'll have spaceport security all over us if someone doesn't present the freighter identification, landing auth code, fees, and shipping manifest."

Alor'akada groaned softly as she continued to stir herself, noisily. "You can do that, after you get me a blanket, Ferrigo Prosstang. I'm going to set up our bed for later."

"Up here?" Ferrigo carefully worked his way to the gantry walk around the upper level of the cargo hold and stood up. He gazed at his beautiful lover as she glistened and caressed herself in the faint red light. "I so want to fill you up. Right now."

"I know you do," the tiny Mandalorian beauty gasped slightly as she ran her left hand through her black hair. "You practically touch my lungs with that sword between your legs. So beautiful, and strong. Gifted and relentless."

"Get ready as soon as you can. We do need to eat," trying not to think on her arousing words, Ferrigo shifted his stance to walk to the hydraulic lift platform, but paused with a smile. "Thanks for coming to save the day, Lor'ika."

"You're welcome. And thanks for saving my sheb'ika," Alor'akada smiled. "I'll let you know when I'm ready."

The Docks of Xoman Three
Ferrigo looked up into the cargo net in the far corner of the cargo hold, where he saw a large, thick blanket on top of the netting. Many of the stacks of containers were six high. He directed the four Huttese-speaking dock workers to the containers that needed to be loaded onto their repulsorsleds. One of the workers operated a loader that enabled the heavy cargo containers to be brought down and stacked on the repulsorsleds.

The green-skinned Kadas'sa'Nikto stevedore foreman approached Ferrigo and handed him back the BoSS datapad opened to the bill of lading screen. "Sa da mikipahkee?"

Ferrigo looked thoughtfully at the datapad, then glanced to the foreman with his helmet's T-visor, then nodded and replied in question. "Sa spasteeka bunkadinkee dee boonkee wata?" as he watched the Weequay and Klatooinian dock workers push the officially-marked repulsorsleds down the cargo ramp and onto the dock.

"Tangwa," the foreman pointed in the direction of the Customs House, then held his clawed fingers apart. "Ree eetsee kachay."

Ferrigo nodded again, and began to walk with the lead stevedore twenty strides behind his shipment. "Saerfahan. Dobra stuta goonu plassa ovvpanksta." Prosstang then pressed a few buttons on his right gauntlet as he silently whispered commands to close the cargo door to the Hopping Shaak. The motorized mechanisms activated to pull the large door up from the dock until it's lip locked into place.

Ferrigo heard in his HUD. "Thank you, lover."

"Get your sheb'ika moving, little Miss Neviik," Ferrigo's voice was unheard outside of his helmet. "We're going to dinner in fifteen minutes. Waiting on local dining recommendations." He clucked his tongue in preparation to respond to the foreman.

The green Nikto gazed af Ferrigo thoughtfully after barking an order for the dock workers to head to Area D. "Jah Flohteeska Breegondo. Leah plassa. An un dumpa, jah Inkabunga Howdunga. Dopa mo gootu."

Ferrigo smiled inside his helmet, then spoke to the stevedore. "Spasteeka. Wompa tee-tocky?" He held up one finger.

The Nikto shook his head slightly, shrugged, and held up two claw-bearing fingers. "Haba dopa."

Ferrigo nodded calmly and watched as fueling and inspection crews tended to the Hopping Shaak. "Leah." The Mandalorian looked around the open air spaceport, then clucked his tongue. "Lor'ika, we're going to be here maybe two hours, and we have two recommended choices for dinner. One place is a diner, the Surprising Burp. The other is a nicer place, The Floating Brigand. I'm going to take a shower and change out my undergarments."

Ferrigo returned to the Hopping Shaak and removed his armor, flight suit, boots, and undergarments just outside the refresher. He stepped into the compartment, which was rather small and filthy. He grimaced a little and used some of the hand cleaning agent and a napkin to wipe some of the obvious dirt and grime from the surfaces. Prosstang then took a good shower, which was surprisingly hot and maintained solid water vapor pressure.

Ferrigo dried off quickly and exited the refresher, and gathered his gear. He pulled out a clean pair of undergarments and socks from one of his flight suit cargo pockets, and with a sheepish grin, put them on. The Mandalorian put on his flight suit, boots, armor vest, strap-on armor pieces, and gauntlets. He looked up at the cargo netting as he took his helmet under his left arm. He picked up the datapad with his right hand and walked to the cockpit.

Prosstang sighed as he looked over the ship's cargo manifest from Mandalore, and the various parties who had been involved with the Hopping Shaak's latest journey. He picked up his helmet from the dashboard console and put it on and activated his HUD systems. As if having a soft conversation, heard by nobody else, Ferrigo talked to DV8 and received text responses along the left side of his HUD.

''-The third crewmember, Arddi Dhedd was not heard from after the shipment was processed through customs at Bimmisaari, Master Prosstang. ''

"But the other two were killed, right, Deevee?" Ferrigo spoke softly as he sat in the pilot's chair and gazed at the datapad in front of his T-visor. "Blaster bolts, according to the local Bimm authorities?"

-Correct, sir. 

"You have all the data for the cargo manifest. I want you to have Velrrus assign Jannigo Prosstang to work with him in tracking down Arrdi Dhedd." Ferrigo stretched his arms and legs.

-Tired, sir?

"I'm glad my bio-scan sensors are still working and being monitored, Deevee."

''-I do hope you get some sleep, Master Prosstang. The Hopping Shaak is not known as a comfortable vessel, according to record logs from past journal entries of Prosstang Industries freighter crews.''

"It'll do the job, Deevee," Ferrigo stifled a yawn. "Thanks for worrying about us. Make sure our Velrrus follows the process for investigations, and keeps Jannigo in line."

Ferrigo heard a stirring in the cargo hold, and closed the channel to DV8. The door to the cockpit was open, so he turned the pilot's chair to see Alor'akada, preening naked with her arms folded together over her head toward the refresher. He could not restrain a soft groan of desire as he watched her soft curves jiggle with her every step.

Prosstang turned back to face the dashboard console and refocused on the datapad. Bimmisaari was delivered. Charros IV remained, as did Kashyyyk and Zeltros. Ferrigo smiled slightly, then put the datapad into a slot made for it to the right of the pilot's chair. He looked toward the refresher as he emerged into the cargo hold. He took a deep breath, tapped the secured entry console to the right of the cargo hold door and released the inset passenger door. After he opened the door and exited to the small stair deck, he closed it and used his HUD commands to seal and lock the door.

Prosstang selected his Huttese vocabulator from the HUD menu and checked in with customs. He was told that the packages were being properly inspected. Ferrigo grinned to himself. "Be sure that our clients are informed of the inspection on completion, will you?"

The Klatooinian customs official squinted slightly at what he had heard, and shook his head as he resumed his inspection duties.

Ferrigo departed for the town wrapped around the spaceport, and purchased civilian clothing items, mostly casual wear. He was certain of his own sizes, but guessed his way into the junior, and even older children's sizes for Alor'akada. This should be good. Ferrigo thought again of Alor'akada, so small, attractive, and animalistic.

He changed his comm channel to the Hopping Shaak. "Attention. Lor'ika. Get your sweet little sheb'ika ready for dinner. Wear your armor. This town appears a bit rough around the edges."

As he was walking back to the spaceport, she responded from her helmet comm channel. "Treat me right, Ferrigo Prosstang. This could be our night. I got all cleaned up in the refresher. And I cleaned it up a bit in there, too, so you can get refreshed when we get back." Alor'akada's voice sounded slightly sleepy, and very sweet.

"I already took a refreshing shower. You've made our nest nice and comfy?" Ferrigo asked hopefully, and imagined Alor'akada with him in the netting.

"Of course, you silly di'kut," Alor'akada chided with a smile in her voice. "You know that rope burns are only fun when they're earned."

He was not certain that Alor'akada could hear the astonishment in his pause. "You have ten minutes to meet me outside the ship. I'm going to take a look at her, and make sure these tenders aren't screwing with things."

"I'm wearing tiny panties."

"I'll be outside." Ferrigo said firmly, not trying to erase the vision in his mind. Alor'akada was aiming for his heart, and his loins.

After confirming that CF-PSI-01293T was intact and not leaking fluids or oxygen through seams, he waited against the hull near the inset door of the cargo hold. Ferrigo pressed a few buttons and a short set of steps extended to the ground below the inset door.

Alor'akada emerged in her Nite Owl armored outfit. Ferrigo gasped. "You look gorgeous."

"Ni'duraa." Alor'akada chuckled and stepped down the stairs after smacking Ferrigo's hand away. "You're a di'kut."

"Where is this coming from?" Ferrigo inhaled as he followed her to the exit of the spaceport. "What did I do? What did I say?"

"The whole thing about Jannigo, Kal, everything." Alor'akada stopped and turned to face Ferrigo. "You have to trust me. I love you, Ferrigo Prosstang. If you kriff this up, it's on you."

"Wait. Woah," Ferrigo opened his hands for a moment then folded his right gauntlet over his left. "Let's get something straight. Right now."

"Okay, what is it?" Alor'akada shifted, her voice became more emotional.

"Trust."

"Yeah, I'm telling you, you need to trust me." Alor'akada's helmet moved slightly with her expressive words as she pointed her left hand at herself.

"As a bounty hunter, that's not easy for me to do."

"Bounty hunter?" Alor'akada groaned with an exasperated, shrill voice. "You're good. But you're not Schingo Velrrus. No excuses. You need to believe in me, believe in us. If you didn't feel the connection at the Prosstang Lodge when we karked each other's brains out..."

"Don't mock me, Alor'akada Neviik. You don't know everything about me." Ferrigo stood firm.

"If you don't feel the same as I do, when I say, you are the best man I've ever been with, all around - then you need to move to the next space port alone. And I don't care about you being a bounty hunter."

Ferrigo sighed and gently waved his hands in consolation. "Look, I wanted to take you to dinner. I'm hungry. You're hungry, right?"

"Yeah, I am hungry."

"Then let's go." Ferrigo turned to face the spaceport exit.

"What about our identification? Don't we need to provide that?" Alor'akada pointed at the datapad Ferrigo held. "I'm not on there, am I?"

Ferrigo finished a quick series of taps with his right hand fingertips. "Are now. Let's go."

The Ambience of The Floating Brigand
After an hour and a half, Ferrigo and Alor'akada exchanged warm glances across their small, rustic wooden table in the upstairs loft at The Floating Brigand restaurant. Their helmets sat in front of them to their left, respectively. Their dinner had been deilcious, as suggested by the stevedore foreman. They had just finished dessert. She bit her lip as she looked down at her place setting. He smoothed out his place setting and looked at her. He wanted her. And he sensed that she wanted him, too.

"Can you believe it's been less than a week?" Alor'akada smiled, with her mouth and her sparkling blue eyes, caught in the torchlight of the sconce.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. A few hours ago, I was delighted to taste you again." Ferrigo smiled, and turned his head slightly to glance at the occupants of another table, a Weequay male dressed flamboyantly, and a dark-skinned Twi'lek female dressed well, but conservatively. His eyes were soon on Alor'akada again. "The muga fruit cake with glaze was sweet, but not nearly so much as you."

"Don't worry, there's nobody here who can cause trouble for us." Alor'akada glanced to either side of Ferrigo and smiled.

Ferrigo cleared his throat. "It just crossed my mind. I was wondering about the contact I got out of Hondo's leak."

"Yeah," Alor'akada seemed more guarded at Ferrigo's sudden change of topic. "We found her dead in the apartment we were supposed to meet her at."

"But you were able to get information on her killers." Ferrigo smiled as the waiter brought over another bottle of Alderaanian wine and opened it.

Alor'akada looked at the wine bottle, moved her napkin and sighed. "She was unclothed," Alor'akada reached under the table while looking at him. Ferrigo's left hand jerked slightly toward his left hip holster. "But she had this in her hand."

Ferrigo looked at the shining, metallic brooch that she set on the table. He tried to restrain himself from reacting. He considered his next words carefully.

"Do you trust me?" He looked at her directly.

Alor'akada paused. "I'm afraid of you. I love you, but you know more than you're telling. But I'd trust you with my life."

"I'll ask you this once."

Alor'akada gulped hard after she finished a sip of wine. "Okay."

"Do you have any, any ties to the Death Watch?" Ferrigo pursed his lips tightly.

She sighed. "I might. But you might, too."

"What do you mean?" Ferrigo grimaced slightly as if unamused.

"Do you know Relia Vu'udrel?" the name left Alor'akada Neviik's lips and floored Ferrigo.

Ferrigo shook his head slightly and stammered. "Well, yeah, I knew her from my days in training as a kid."

"I did too," Alor'akada tried to soothe Ferrigo with her tone. "She and her husband Tyro Kels'mek had ties to Tor Vizsla, and Vharian Montross. Vizsla, as you certainly know, was the leader of the Death Watch. I've heard that after Jango Fett inherited Jaster Mereel's operation, Montross went black."

"Went black?" Ferrigo's mind swam among a sea of chaotic thoughts. "I...I don't get it. Voodoo and Tyro would never--"

Alor'akada leaned in as she spoke across the table in a near whisper. "Jango brought me in because he found out about Relia."

"Found out what?" Ferrigo was defensive, and realized it. "Those two were people I would trust with my life."

Alor'akada said slowly, but emphatically as she looked in his eyes. "Tyro followed Montross in joining the Death Watch after he found out that Relia was cheating on him."

"How would you know any of this, huh?" Ferrigo shook his head. "You're just a kid. Relia Vu'udrel was familiar to a lot of men who served with Tyro."

Alor'akada sat back slowly, with a sad expression. "With you. She cheated with you."

Ferrigo slumped slightly in his seat. "Are you with the Death Watch?"

"No, but your lover was," she added tartly. "Nurtos Kellov, a hulk of a guy that goes by the nickname of Marev was also one of her callers. I'm guessing he picked up where Tyro Kels'mek left off after dying on Galidraan. You see, it's Kellov's trace that I found on the contact you provided."

''You're good Neviik. You're clever. And dangerous. So beautiful. And I can't resist you.''

"How," Ferrigo blankly stared at her armor-covered breasts, flight suit-covered neck, chin, pouty lips, nose, cheeks, curly black hair, and then, her sparkling blue eyes. "How do you know all of this, and not have an inside seat at Tor Vizsla's table?"

"Relia Vu'udrel is my cousin. My father is her mother's brother." Neviik said, matter-of-factly. "Sad thing is, I just heard that this thug, Marev, went ballistic on Relia about a year ago and left her because she was cheating on him, too. She is under armed guard, and has been on life support ever since."

Ferrigo winced. "So, you are telling me this why?"

"You asked about my ties to the Death Watch?" Alor'akada said with a slight smile and shake of her head. "Relia is my cousin, and one of my mentors in being a Mandalorian warrior, you handsome di'kut."

Ferrigo shook his head and turned to look over the restaurant's lower level dining area and bar. He heard the sliding of a wooden chair on the old duracete floor and felt the small dining table shake slightly.

"I'm leaving for the spaceport." Alor'akada said firmly with a sour, trembling smile as she picked up her helmet, and tucked it under her left arm. "Sorry if I'll ask you to pay for my dinner. I have to pay my fare for a ride home."

"No," Ferrigo muttered and stood up to grab her right arm with his right hand. "Don't go."

She seethed upward into his face. "You care more about Relia than you do me. I'm sure you were the best she'd ever had. And maybe she was the best you ever had, too." Alor'akada shook her arm free of his slight grasp. "I'm leaving. Without you. You were the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Kids, combat training, palace life, everything." She gritted as she turned and walked for the stairs to the lower level.

Ferrigo quickly picked up his helmet from the table and put it under his left arm, grabbed the wine bottle with his left hand and tossed several hundred credits in credit chips on the table.

The waiter quickly darted to the table to check the credit chips as Ferrigo had already begun his swift striding gait toward the front door that Alor'akada had just exited. The voice of the waiter asked about change, but was not responded to.

For a Mando'karla Love
Ferrigo quickly put on his helmet as Alor'akada broke into a running stride after putting on her helmet. He activated his armor, gauntlets, and HUD systems with a few words. With a cluck of his tongue he opened a private channel with the young, little Mandalorian woman who ran ahead of him. His heart was saddened. "Lor'ika, don't run," he gasped. "You're the woman I want, you're the most mando'karla dala I've ever had!"

"Words aren't enough, Ferrigo!" she cried as she ran. "You don't trust me, you don't love me!"

"Kriff!" Ferrigo yelled and then clucked his tongue to a silent channel, and activated his jetpack. At a great rate of speed, less than four meters above the cobble-stoned streets, Ferrigo swooped in behind Alor'akada as she ran away from him. He clucked his tongue and yelled a growling yell as she began to turn her head and shoulders to face him on his descent toward her. "You're mine! All mine, you tiny di'kutla dala!!"

The impact of Ferrigo's right bicep in flight against her small torso stunned her and carried her quickly off of her feet. He heard the air leave her lungs with a grunt and sigh. He lifted the path of his flight with Alor'akada firmly tucked into his armored chest, well above the lane and the charming houses that framed it. He curled their trajectory over the spaceport, after making a quick comm link to the flight and ground control crews. They understood that any special services provided to CF-PSI-01293T were to be billed to Prosstang Industries. He landed carefully near the steps door to the Hopping Shaak, which had opened at his use of HUD commands. Ferrigo still held Alor'akada a few feet above the ground as he walked steadily up the steps into the cargo hold. He turned and closed the door, sealing and locking it. He then looked around the cargo hold before setting Alor'akada down on a low stack of crates.

"I'll be back," Ferrigo muttered, and heard her gasping softly.

He went into the cockpit and activated the engines. He scratched his beard after setting his helmet on the flight console and took a quick look at the flight nav computer and pressed a few buttons. He sighed, and sat down in the pilot's seat, and flicked several switches to activate pilot controls and exterior lights. When the engines, though shuddering, indicated full power availability, he pulled a handle to his left to lift the freighter from its dock plate, straight into the air above the spaceport.

"Okay, Hopping Shaak, we're going to get out of the atmosphere and set course for Charros Four." Ferrigo looked at the controls, and checked the monitors of the very basic freighter. "If I can find the hyperdrive controls." He touched a few buttons, and the large craft continued its climb into the upper atmosphere.

From over his shoulder. "You think...you can get away...with what you just did? Do you?" Alor'akada inhaled deeply and seethed.

Ferrigo lifted his right index finger. "Just one minute, Lor'ika. I've gotta set course for our next destination when we get out of the gravity well of Xoman Three," he turned to her with an affable, winning smile. "Oh, and I tipped the waiter nearly a hundred creds, if you're talking about us storming out of The Floating Brigand."

A sharp crack and the sound of compressed air caused Ferrigo to flinch into the pilot's seat, but tufts of cushion-filling material wafted toward the transparasteel view panels of the cockpit.

"Hod Ha'ran, Lora! Calm down!"

"No! You kidnapped me, Ferrigo Prosstang!" she yelled at him through her helmet's vocal emitter. "And you're gonna take me back to Xoman Three so I can get on with the rest of my life!"

Ferrigo muttered jibberish, with a few words of endearment for Alor'akada, and mentioned patience frequently. His hands found their way to the hyperdrive controls. "Okay, Shaak, you've got half a minute and you'll go to light speed, right?"

A hard slap with her gloved hand caused Ferrigo to yelp and spin the pilot's chair until he stood against the port side of the cockpit, opposite of Alor'akada. They stared at each other for twenty seconds. The ship shuddered and seemed to clamber as its engines were reconfigured from its sublight configuration to engage the hyperdrive.

In her rage, the tiny beauty gasped and seethed at Ferrigo. "Take me back."

"There's no going back now." Ferrigo said with a slight hint of apology, but a menacing, lusting look.

The ship trembled and vibrated, and a loud whirring sound filled the ship as the stars ahead of them shimmered for a moment then streaked into strands of light. A blue gas then swirled about the viewscreen panels as the ship seemed to operate smoothly.

"You di'kut." Alor'akada scowled at Ferrigo. "You don't want me. Why are you doing this?"

"You're wrong!" Ferrigo yelled with fury, and suddenly burst across the cockpit to pick up the small woman and put her over his shoulder before exiting to the spacious cargo hold. "Hod Ha'ran, dala, I'm gonna show you what desire is! You spit at my love?! Well you'd better be ready!"

Alor'akada shrieked as her helmet fell off and bounced on the cargo deck, and struggled until she dropped onto her feet and punched his armored chest plates with the bottoms of her tiny fists. "No! Don't do this! You don't--"

Ferrigo roared, and pushed Alor'akada onto a stack of crates and placed his foot on her abdominal armor plate to keep her from moving.

"You di'kut!!" she screamed, her arms and legs whipped about in an effort to free herself.

He pressed harder as he removed each of her boots despite her flailing feet, that he caught in turn with both hands. Her free boot could not reach his cod piece, nor hit his thigh with sufficient force as he completed his task with a growl. He gazed at her beautiful, flustered face as she cursed him vehemently. Ferrigo then removed her armored thigh plates and tossed them aside. He crawled on top of her small body and pinned her down with his shins.

She shouted his name and an uninterrupted stream of vulgarities. "Your father will hear about this!"

Ferrigo quickly detached her gauntlets, and set them aside. "Sure you will try, orikih dala."

Prosstang then grabbed her hair in his left fist, got up, slid himself and dragged a shrieking Alor'akada from the crates. He let go of her hair, then grabbed her throat under her chin with his large right hand, causing her to gasp in terror.

"Sen'tra ori'kih!" His jetpack lurched and lifted them both upward, and he tossed Alor'akada onto the cargo net that had been covered with thick blankets and pillowy sacks. He hovered near the net, and scowled at her from three meters distance. "Strip off the rest of your armor or die trying!"

Prosstang landed on the upper level gantry and began to unfasten his accessories and armor quickly. To his pleasure, which he restrained from showing, Alor'akada complied urgently in removing her armored vest, other armor pieces, and her flight suit.

"Don't hurt me, Ferrigo Prosstang!" she pleaded as she pulled off her tiny undergarment. "I love you! Don't hurt me!"

"You'll get what you deserve, Orikih'vinka," Ferrigo seethed as his flight suit fell to the gantry. He then pulled apart his undergarment, and revealed his waving, sturdy fullness. "You think I'm playing games? I'm playing for keeps. No more being played."

She gasped as she looked upon him, and laid on the nest set into the cargo netting fully exposed to him. Her eyes flashed wide as he leapt onto the nest, and made her bounce upward and settle slightly backward. He was on her instantly, and devoured her full bosom, slim tummy, and trimmed sweetness below. His tiny, beautiful Mandalorian lover made a show of fighting him for a few seconds, with slaps, scratches and small clawings, but soon she grabbed his hair and pressed his hunger into her nectar-yielding garden as his hands coveted every surface of her body. He was loud and not at all gracious in his loving of her, holding, rolling, and folding her in a number of ways. And she responded again and again with screams and moans of ecstatic release and pleasure on the shuddering and swaying cargo net.

Before she could catch her breath, she screamed again as he quickly shifted his chest over her head, and pointed his man-root to kiss, open, and fill her every desire. He groaned loudly down at her pink face, and gasping, whining mouth. The cargo netting shook and swayed more violently with his loving ferocity. She grabbed the rope with her tiny right hand and the back of his neck with her left hand.

"Kark, you like that?! You tiny schutta?! Ferrigo roared and yelled as his large appendage slammed quickly into his tiny lover and made her scream and cry out obscenities. She gazed into his eyes, and leaned forward to watch their conjunction. Alor'akada tried to hold onto him as he wildly stroked back and forth in her quivering, shuddering stomach, which made her release all over him and the bedding with another shrill scream of obscenities. He grabbed the net with his right hand and held her throat with his left as he let out a staccato outburst of grunts.

"Yes, I do! Give it to me, Ori'viinulik!" She whimpered and whined.

Ferrigo released his right hand from the netting for several seconds and slapped the left side Alor'akada's beautiful face sharply several times as he seethed, muttered, and moaned her name bitterly with raging lust. He then placed that hand on her swinging breasts as his left hand choke hold tightened slightly. "In your tummy! So karkin' tight!" he grunted loudly and looked at the chevron-shaped verge above her womanhood, and felt the repeated contractions of her stomach muscles with their movements.

"Don't hurt me, baby! Don't hurt me, Ori'viinulik! I love you!" She let go of the netting and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. "I'll be good to you! Love you, oh oh oh osik!!"

Ferrigo let go of her throat and laid his body over hers after he curled his neck and back down to suckle on her aroused breasts for a moment. He then reached down to grab her round derriere with both of his large hands, roared, and grunted again and again as his manly gift stretched her sweet flower beyond its limits with rapid jabs. He feverishly kissed her ears and mouth as he mercilessly pummeled her sweetness with his own outbursting of joyous release. He made many yelling, non-sensical noises as her tight grip of him fluttered, and her own voice cried out his name and all manner of vulgarities and non-sense at his ownership of her.

She squeezed him tight and began to sob, tears running down her cheeks. "Don't leave me. Don't hurt me. I'm your Orikih'vinka, Ferrigo Prosstang."

Ferrigo groaned loudly in her face as he gazed at her. He wiggled his hips before pushing himself as deeply as he could into his tiny lover and the nest that held them both aloft of the cargo deck. Squashing her delicate feminine form under his muscular body. "All mine," he seethed and then kissed her deeply, and she responded hungrily for his kiss, as he felt himself polish Alor'akada's plumbed depths. He muttered. "I love you. Every tiny inch of you, ner Orikih'vinka. Don't ever doubt me."

She kissed him repeatedly and passionately, and wrapped her legs around Ferrigo's waist to hold him closer as they slowly and very minimally moved. Alor'akada held his face in her hands. "My god, you're so beautiful. You fill me so deeply with joy," she gasped, and smiled. "You're so big, Ori'viinulik. You are tickling the bottom of my lungs."

Ferrigo smiled, grimaced, grunted, and gasped as he gazed into Alor'akada's blue eyes and cupped her head with his hands to kiss his chest and watch their plumage tangle and crush together with his renewed, vigorous thrusting. "It is kissing you deep, Lor'ika. You got all of me. So good, my little mando'karla angel."

Alor'akada panted, cried, and mewed with her lover's quickly replenished ardor, squeezing his unseen endowment as Ferrigo bounced her vigorously. He kissed her then roared at the ceiling of the cargo hold as another violent series of ecstatic waves overcame the both of them. She held him tighter to her tiny, sweat-soaked body.

Alor'akada gasped. "You're such a stud, baby, I think you've filled me four or five times. And made me lose it all over you...so many times. You're the best lover I've ever had. Don't pull out." She dragged the nails of her tiny hands gently over his body as they kissed.

Ferrigo smiled, pulsed, gasped, grunted, and sweat all over his sweet little Mandalorian girl as she trembled and held him. He pulled the covers over the both of them. "Not going anywhere, ner Orikih'vinka."

His tiny lover kissed him repeatedly with passion, strained her hold of him, and whispered as she looked into his blue eyes. "Ferrigo Solus be Prosstang, mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

"Alor'akada Neviik, mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde." Ferrigo smiled at Alor'akada as she beamed. "Love you, my sweet little wife."

They fell asleep in each others' arms.

Ruthless Cathedrals of Industry
Both Mandalorians wore their armor, with Alor'akada sitting across Ferrigo's lap in the pilot's chair. She kissed him every so often as their descent into the atmosphere of Charros IV yielded a stunning vista of snow-capped mountains and verdant valleys.

"Put your bucket on, Baby." Ferrigo looked into Alor'akada's blue eyes before sharing a deep kiss. "Mrs. Prosstang."

"Yes, my handsome husband." She stood after she shifted herself from his lap, and gazed at him hungrily. "You were totally amazing again, this morning. The way you took me from behind."

Ferrigo smiled. "You were too, Lor'ika. I didn't know I had that much in me. But you got it all."

Alor'akada lifted her helmet from a peg and set it over her head. Ferrigo lifted his from the dashboard and put it on.

Her voice came over his audio receiver. "These clients. They're not human, are they?" Her hands gripped the back of the pilot's chair

"No," Ferrigo turned slightly to her as he picked up the cargo manifest datapad. "They're not. Something more like," he paused. "Insectoids."

Alor'akada's helmet tilted slightly left. "Oh."

Ferrigo turned in the pilot's chair to face forward as the Hopping Shaak shuddered slightly through a bank of clouds and emerged above a valley with several plateaus. "They're very religious, according to the PSI Info-Log entry," he paused and looked out the view screen of the freighter for a moment. "And their religion is industry."

"Good to see that," Alor'akada seemed to say absent-mindedly as they passed a long series of large cathedrals that nestled into the sides of the mountain range. Smoke poured from several of the towers of the majestic structures. "They must pray alot."

"Maybe." Ferrigo said as the freighter landed and slightly jerked forward as it stutter-stepped on the landing platform.

"Ah. Soft landings must be a luxury with this vessel."

Ferrigo stood from the pilot's chair and took Alor'akada's hand. "Mrs. Prosstang, after you."

"Alor'akada Prosstang," his tiny, armored wife said proudly. "I like that."

"Me too." Ferrigo smiled in his helmet and gently patted her rear end. "Let's go take care of business."

They exited from the ship under the watchful presence of several beings with dark, chitinous skin covering a set of legs on either side of its wide, shallow body, and pointed ovular head. Their legs seemed to scissor across one another on each side in coordination with the opposite side to move. A loud trilling of clicks burst from the unseen mouths of several of the beings.

A protocol droid shuffled across the durasteel receiving dock toward the Mandalorians. "Welcome to Charros Four," the insectoid-shaped eyes of the protocol droid, that otherwise appeared similar to a Cybot Galactica model, were slightly distracting. Ferrigo handed the droid the cargo manifest, restricted to the shipment to Haor Chall Engineering. "We were expecting this shipment one galactic standard rotation ago. Can you explain why Prosstang Industries is late with this delivery?"

"Unforeseen delays." Ferrigo said plainly. "The cargo is ready for unloading," he then glanced down at Alor'akada, who looked back up at him. "My partner will supervise your crew."

"That will not be necessary," the protocol droid gestured to the freighter. "Those parts have been deemed surplus to the needs of our factory, per the Prelate of Xi Char."

"I'll have the parts Haor Chall ordered dumped on this dock, myself, per Prosstang Industries." Ferrigo retorted sharply. "You order. We deliver. We had an incident with the last crew. I'm not at liberty to provide details. But your parts are here."

"Oh, I understand the confusion, representative of Prosstang Industries." The protocol droid bowed very slightly, and handed the datapad containing the cargo manifest back to Ferrigo. "However, the parts you have shipped will not be of use to Haor Chall Engineering for the next twenty standard rotations, as the production closed on that line yesterday."

"Prosstang Industries has a contract with Haor Chall Engineering," Ferrigo pointed to the ground a few meters ahead of the droid. "We don't accept reneging on contracts. We have sub-assemblies per your order. Where you put them is your business. But we're going to get paid for them. By Haor Chall."

The protocol droid seemed to confer with a few of the beings, that rattled off a series of clicks. "The labor order has already been shifted to a different product line."

Ferrigo fumed inside his helmet. "I can see this is getting nowhere. I want to talk with your chief executive."

The protocol droid shifted in its stance. "But, respectfully, you are a cargo pilot, are you not?"

"I am Ferrigo Prosstang, chief of security and shipments for Prosstang Industries. I answer only to my father, the chief executive officer."

"Very well, then," the protocol droid walked past the two beings that seemed to shuffle in retreat to provide space for the droid to access a comm panel. "I believe that the Prelate will not be pleased."

"That makes two, perhaps three, or four of us." Ferrigo nodded slightly.

The protocol droid approached Ferrigo a minute later. "You are granted an audience with the Prelate. Please follow me."

"Great." Ferrigo put his hands on his utility belt, as he and Alor'akada began to walk behind the protocol droid. "Progress at last."

"Really?" Alor'akada whispered on their private channel.

Ferrigo responded to her on the private channel. "We're not leaving without making the delivery. This meeting will allow me to share that directly with their boss, or whoever this Prelate is."

A Brief Interlude of Love and Foreboding
Five minutes later, Ferrigo and Alor'akada stood in a large vault with the protocol droid, and a few of the scissor-legged beings. The droid spoke up. "You may wonder at the greatness you see until the Prelate has finished with his previous appointment."

Ferrigo walked three steps after the droid as it departed, then returned to face Alor'akada directly as he rest his palms on top of his utility belt pouches. "He's talking about you, Baby. And that's exactly what I'll do."

"You're a di'kut." Alor'akada remained still, with her arms folded right above left below her chest. "And I love you. Every amazing, delicious inch."

Ferrigo shook his head slowly. "Mrs. Prosstang. I'm going to have to spank your lovely uj cakes, aren't I?"

The helmet of the tiny Mandalorian woman nodded. "You'd better. If you know what's good for you, Mr. Prosstang."

"I love you, Alor'akada Prosstang." Ferrigo groaned slightly.

"I know." Alor'akada sighed and examined her gauntlets. "Do we have to do this? Let's go back to the ship, dump the freight, and bug out for the next stop."

Suddenly, Ferrigo turned his head to his right and caught sight of a robed figure at forty paces heading from the large doors ahead of them, but at an angle, perhaps toward another unseen corridor. He felt apprehensive. Familiar. Ferrigo adjusted the macrobinocular function of his HUD.

"What is it?" Alor'akada asked.

Ferrigo slowly returned his T-visor gaze to his wife. "Not sure. I'd say that the Prelate has interesting clientele."

"As interesting as the greatness you were wondering at?" her voice tainted with sarcasm.

"You know I'll take you anyday, and everyday, Alor'akada Prosstang." Ferrigo inhaled softly. "Just wondering what a Jedi is doing here."

The Present Mastery of His Past and Future
Alor'akada looked over toward the the corridor that Ferrigo had been looking at moments before. "I know it sounds strange, but I felt a bit uneasy when you looked away from me."

"I'm sorry, ner cyar'ika. I won't do that."

"No, you shab'la di'kut," Alor'akada gasped. "I mean that I felt something, like I could feel what you were seeing. The Jedi, maybe."

"Oh, great," Ferrigo groaned. "What now? You're going to be reading my mind?" Is she?

-Everyone is touched by the presence of the Force.-

Ferrigo had heard a slightly gravelly male voice in his mind. He glanced around, and noticed Alor'akada also looking around. It was not one of the usual voices that he had heard in the past.

"I hope not," Alor'akada whispered. "This place is making me very uncomfortable, Ferrigo. Can we leave?"

"You armed and ready to go?" Ferrigo asked as he handed his wife the cargo manifest datapad.

"Uh-huh, I'm ready." Alor'akada said softly, with a single nod, and took the datapad under her left arm.

"Get back to the ship," Ferrigo removed a small card from his left pant cargo pocket. "Use that card to get in. And lock it up after you get in."

"You won't take a long time, right?" she began to walk away. "Honeymoon. Remember. Okay?"

"I know. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Within two minutes, the protocol droid returned to escort Ferrigo through the corridor to a larger chamber with an atrium. From there, four scissor-legged Xi Charrians, their tear drop shaped heads and red eyes regarded Ferrigo and the protocol droid, as a large set of intricately engraved bronzium doors opened on their approach.

Inside the room, a Xi Charrian wearing a raiment stood a bit taller than the others of his kind that Ferrigo had yet seen. At each corner of the modestly proportioned room stood a bodyguard, two of them dressed in Mandalorian shocktrooper armor. One of those two was heavy set, with large, uncovered arms. Montross. Alor'akada, no.

Ferrigo clucked his tongue. "Mrs. Prosstang. Be alert. Montross is here. On the payroll of the Prelate, by the looks of it."

"I'm indisposed right now, cyar'ika."

"What?" Ferrigo looked around his HUD as he slowed his forward pace. "This might be a setup."

"Ya think?" Alor'akada's voice gritted. "The Jedi or whatever. A hideous big guy. He's standing by our freighter, with a human male, dressed nice in a purple and gold vest over a grey long-sleeved shirt, dark grey slacks. Looking. Right. At. Me. Oh--"

"Lor'ika?" Ferrigo blurted, and then quickly clucked his tongue as he stood before the Xi Charrian Prelate.

The protocol droid turned around and spoke. "The Munificent Prelate of Charros Four wishes you an efficient return to Mandalore."

Ferrigo bowed slightly after clapping his gloves together twice. "Tell the Prelate that I will be providing the full shipment at the dock for his disposition. We deal on credit, so he can expect a transfer statement within two standard rotations. Otherwise, our legal counsel will be in contact with Haor Chall's legal counsel."

The protocol droid seemed confused. "Sir, that is..." A series of clicks emitted from the Prelate. "Sir, Mr. Prosstang, that is not done."

"Prosstang?" the large Mandalorian armor-wearing bodyguard moved from his position and began to close on Ferrigo and the protocol droid.

"I'm going to be leaving now. Without incident." Ferrigo swung his left gauntlet and micro-missiles up toward the approaching bodyguard. "Got that, Montross?"

"The Munificent Prelate of Charros Four wishes you an efficient return to Mandalore." The protocol droid raised his hands as if to calm the tensions.

"I'm taking you out, Prosstang." Montross growled.

"Didn't hear your boss? Or are you still terrible as a professional?" Ferrigo said sternly as he backed up three steps and raised his right gauntlet to point at the larger Mandalorian.

"We can go outside, it's break time anyway," Montross said huskily. "I can't wait to finish this conversation."

Ferrigo continued to back up, his HUD provided clear guidance on his path. "Farewell, Prelate. Our legal counsel will be making contact. Any harm to Prosstang Industries equipment, cargo, or personnel your bodyguard inflicts will be added to your invoice with a separate bill for punitive damages and a stop order on your entire operation, courtesy of the Galactic Republic Department of Justice."

"Guardian," the protocol droid raised its voice. "Please stand down."

With a loud roar, Montross swung his left gauntlet quickly out to his side, and crushed the chestplate of the protocol droid. "Fire me!"

The droid fell to the floor smoking, with sparks spraying from its chest. "Oh my! Defend the Prelate!"

The other bodyguards, including the smaller Mandalorian began to fire their weapons at Montross. The large man tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor. One of the guards, a Klatooinian, received a head shot from Montross and his quick-drawn hold out blaster. Looking straight at the head of the prone Montross, Ferrigo fired a stun blast from his right gauntlet that caused the big man to shake violently for a half-count before going limp.

The other bodyguards began to cautiously converge.

"Back off," Ferrigo raised his gauntlets and swung them slightly to keep the bodyguards at bay as he walked carefully toward Montross. "I am taking this beast." Prosstang fired another stun blast at the limp body of the large man. A slight shake and jiggle zipped through Montross. "Mandalorian. Get over here. You're gonna help me carry this tub to my ship."

The Mandalorian came back within two minutes with a repulsorsled.

"Nar dralshy'a, nar dralshy'a," Ferrigo grunted as they both lifted the heavy weight of Montross onto the sled. "Vore, ner vod."

"Kih'parjai," the Mandalorian responded.

"Tion'vaii gar?" Ferrigo asked. The Mandalorian had a familiar dialect. Perhaps more.

"Ni teh Sundar'yaim," the man responded.

"Sundari?" Ferrigo grinned inside his helmet as he looked closely at the Mandalorian's faded insignia. Purple. Gold. Kaitom'prosstangla jag.

Ten minutes later, Ferrigo and the Mandalorian reached the docking bay where the Hopping Shaak was partially visible through the gaps between the roof and walls of the intermediary cargo handling structure.

"You getting a bounty for this?" the Mandalorian asked as he stretched his hands.

"All of it." Ferrigo turned slightly, with the heels of his gloved palms rested on his roba hide utility belt pouches. "I should bring you in, too."

"What?"

"I'd break your kriffing neck myself, for all the osik'la lies you've spread about me." Ferrigo growled in a low tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Mandalorian stuttered.

"If you don't believe that Anjii Dawal is crazy about you and you alone, I'll break your kriffing neck, Brelek Kuporr." Ferrigo glared at the smaller Mandalorian. "Aww, kriff it." Prosstang quickly lifted his right gauntlet and blasted the Mandalorian with his stun ray setting. The bodyguard fell onto Montross and the repulsorsled, with only his feet slumped onto the ground. Ferrigo lifted the guard's feet onto the sled and pushed the sled out toward the freighter until he saw the robed figure standing near the insert door of the Hopping Shaak's cargo hold.

The Cipher and The Jedi
Ferrigo sensed a presence immediately to his left. He spun quickly, his gauntlets at the ready.

"Woah, Mandalorian," a young, handsome, black-haired man wearing a purple and gold jerkin over a long-sleeved grey shirt and dark grey slacks held his hands open toward Ferrigo. "Looks like you have a full load of friends on the sled."

Ferrigo retorted. "If you don't want a full load of trouble you'll tell me who you are, and what you're doing around my employer's ship."

"Let's say that I have a modest proposal," the young man, around Ferrigo's age, smiled disarmingly. Prosstang narrowed his focus for a moment. "I am doing business with the Xi Charrians, as of today." His smile grew.

Ferrigo shook his head. "You win some, you lose some. Still doesn't explain who you are and why you're bothering my ship and crew. And who is that in the robe?"

"I'm Zim."

"Zim, and..." Ferrigo rolled his left hand over to indicate that the young man should continue. But as he spoke to the young man, a recollection began to form.

From Mandalore.

"And I wish to purchase the entire shipment of parts you had intended to sell to Haor Chall Engineering."

Ferrigo shifted his weight. "I have to handle some cargo. I don't have time for games. Who's the robed enigma over there."

"I don't know him well. He's interested in talking to you and your crew, though. Perhaps Jedi. I don't know." The man smiled again, and carefully produced a small card. "That has my business contact information. I am willing to pay ten percent above the amount that Haor Chall is denying you. I am willing to deal on Mandalore, if it is satisfactory for your firm."

"I'll put your offer past the board of directors. See where it goes."

"Hand the offer to your father. The CEO," the man waved his hand. "An upstanding businessman with an impeccable reputation. I should hope someday to have as much growth in market share as Q'osstigo Prosstang has had."

"What is it that your company does?" Ferrigo pushed the sled toward the freighter.

"It's on the card. I must go. Ferrigo Prosstang?"

Ferrigo was silent for three counts as he looked at the card, and the man. Grayson Galactic. "Good day, Zim."

The two men nodded, and Zim departed quickly. The robed man stood firmly in Ferrigo's path.

"You have a diverse business model," a gravelly voice came from the darkness under the hooded cowl.

"We shouldn't meet like this." Ferrigo gestured with a tilt of his helmet toward Montross and the other Mandalorian. "This is more like a hobby for me, and I really shouldn't be playing on the company chronometer."

"Your crew is inside the freighter. Unharmed."

"I would hope so, Ven Koon, she's my wife." Ferrigo pointed toward the door. "I need to lower the ramp to load my trophies."

"Congratulations. She is young and beautiful. And perhaps the smallest human I've met," the Kel Dorian's hand then gestured to the door. "I hope you do have a Republic Correctional Authority license on your person."

"Of course I do." Ferrigo began to lift the smaller Mandalorian onto his shoulders. "Why would you care?"

"It would ease my conscience as I enter your vessel, with permission granted I hope, to help you bring these Mandalorians to justice."

Ferrigo chuckled. "Sounds reasonable to me." He then opened one of his utility belt pouches and showed his RCA license, issued to Ferrigo Prosstang. "I guess as a Jedi, you're also a representative of the Republic's Judicial Branch. Maybe we could work together someday."

"I would be more likely to work around more experienced hunters like Redar Velrrus. Does your wife know about the interesting lives you lead?" Ven Koon asked softly as he helped lift the smaller Mandalorian through the open insert doorway.

Ferrigo shook his head. "No need to go there."

"Understood." The Kel Dorian assisted Ferrigo, in loading the two Mandalorians into the freighter. Alor'akada emerged from the refresher, still fully-armored. She and Ferrigo exchanged a gaze between their T-visors before she walked to the cockpit. "Do you need some restraints for those two?"

Ferrigo turned to regard Ven Koon. "What brought you here, to Charros Four?"

"A promising lead," the Jedi's gravelly voice said plainly, as he handed two pairs of restraining binders to Ferrigo.

"You found what you're looking for?" Ferrigo asked guardedly, then gestured to the two Mandalorian captives with the binders in hand. "Or who?"

The Jedi Master lowered the hood of his cowl to reveal his head, which included a specialized breathing apparatus and small, darkened eye goggles. "More than could be hoped for."

Ferrigo spread his hands slightly, then, with their hands behind their backs, Ferrigo placed the restraints on the wrists of the unconscious men. "I'm glad to hear that. But I should be moving along. The Xi Char were not pleased about their shipment being late, and I can't afford for my family's company to lose more business."

"Oh?" Koon seemed to scan the cargo hold. "You were delayed?"

"The crew of this ship backed out," Ferrigo gestured toward the door. "It was good to see you alive, Master Koon, but I must go."

"Did your travels take you to Troiken?" Koon queried.

"Prosstang Industries doesn't head that far out on the Perlemian." Ferrigo said with a shrug. "Sorry I can't help you. Good day."

"Or Thyferra?"

"No, we're not in the bacta making, or hoarding business, Master Koon."

Ven Koon nodded and bowed slightly, as did Ferrigo, and the Kel Dorian Jedi exited the inset door.

Ferrigo sealed and locked the door before he walked to the cockpit.

"You okay?" Ferrigo asked Alor'akada.

"I don't like that thing, whatever he was." She looked up at Ferrigo from the pilot's chair.

"He's a Jedi," Ferrigo flipped several switches and opened a ship comm channel the flight coordination center as he removed his helmet. "Kel Dorian, or Kel Dor."

"You know him?" Alor'akada asked as she looked up at Ferrigo.

"Not much."

An electronic voice filled the Hopping Shaak cockpit for a moment. "Flight Coordination. Bay 218D. CF-PSI-01293T. Cargo transfer authorizations denied. CF-PSI-01293T departure at Bay 218D approved. Four minutes."

Ferrigo closed the channel, and looked at Alor'akada's Nite Owl helmet as she seemed to gaze forward.

"You okay, Mrs. Prosstang?" Ferrigo put his hand on her right shoulder plate. "Why don't you go lay down?"

"With those beasts in the back?" she shook her head. "You'd better have some restraints on this ship. And we'd better not be carrying them the duration of this delivery run. Honeymoon. Remember?"

The Attempt of a Large Wedge
The journey from Charros IV had been frought with heated conversations between Montross, his companion, and their captors. The containment of the bounties was put to the test several times during the trip. Ferrigo and Alor'akada generally remained in their full beskar'gam while in view of the captives.

"You think you have it all figured out, Prosstang, don't you?" the large Mandalorian grumbled.

"Don't talk. You're wasting air, as well as space."

"Kark you, you little bastard." Montross seethed.

Ferrigo looked to the ceiling of the cargo hold for a few counts before he reconsidered his large nemesis of old. "You don't have any reason to be angry. You've been living on borrowed time, you old di'kut. And I'm gonna deliver you to your worst nightmare."

"I don't have nightmares, you vheh'viin!"

"Fine by me. A miscalculation, maybe," Ferrigo sighed and opened his right hand with a motion toward the closed starboard cargo ramp. "But when we hit the Balamak system, I'm going to make two calls."

"You'd better be ready to die, Prosstang. And your little lady friend there, too. You don't even care if she's Death Watch." Montross sputtered.

Ferrigo's T-visor turned to gaze at Alor'akada's helmet for a moment. "The first call will be to the Republic Correctional Authority. They have an experimental lab attached to their new maximum security facility there. It's a small facility. And a less than well-known fact is they've been testing carbon freezing there. A technology that's not been applied in many generations."

"Who's getting the second call?" Alor'akada turned to Ferrigo to ask.

Montross seethed and kicked at the legs of his fellow captive, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"The second call is to collect on the bounty for Montross." Ferrigo breathed slowly, and then spoke in a cool tone. "Two million credits."

"Schingo Velrrus?! I'll--" Montross yelled, but was interrupted as Ferrigo clicked a button on his right gauntlet, which activated a shock collar fit about the large man's neck.

"Yes, Velrrus. And he'll get to have you mounted on a wall, you scum. Courtesy of Ferrigo Prosstang."

"She's Death Watch!" Montross roared, and nodded toward Alor'akada.

"She's my wife, Montross," Ferrigo nodded his head toward Alor'akada. "You should stop talking now."

Alor’akada looked up at Ferrigo, and then back at Montross.

Republic Correction Authority – Maximum Security – Balamak
Within the hour, Ferrigo adjusted the pilot’s controls, and the Hopping Shaak landed without incident on a cracking duracrete tarmac at the old spaceport a few kilometers from the Balamak Maximum Security Processing & Incarceration Center. The area surrounding the spaceport was sparsely populated, rural agricultural land. No concentrations of housing, or trade-related activities, aside from some gigantic silos or shed structures located in open, flat fields amid prairies that stretched far and wide.

Near the spaceport, a collection of rectangular sheds were set almost ironically against the foot of large, wild grain-covered hillocks. The vibrant colors of wildflowers dotted the hillocks in irregular patches. The sheds appeared suited to containing harvests of substantial size – nine large Corellian freighters could have likely fit into each of the ten or so structures.

Judging from the vastness of the tarmac, and the lack of enclosed facilities at the spaceport, Balamak was all about grain, and loading ships too large to feasibly contain.

Ferrigo looked up at the console above his head. “Lor’ika?” She strolled in with her boots, and sounded slightly flustered. “Yeah, what is it ner cyar’ika?”

“You okay?” Ferrigo turned his head to catch a glimpse of her silhouette out of the corner of his right eye.

“Well, yeah. Montross was being a shab’la osik breath.”

“They need to go quietly,” Ferrigo turned the pilot’s seat to more fully face his young bride. He admired her beskar’gam.

“I darted the kriffer, the other one went down willingly.” Ferrigo could see the weariness of dealing with Montross on Alor’akada’s beautiful face. She was clearly pouting, but not trying to draw attention to her mood.

“I’ve already put the call in to the RCA,” Ferrigo smiled at his wife and took her hands in his. “They’re gonna send a lock-up wagon speeder out here to take those two off our hands. We just have to hang tight.”

Alor’akada breathed a sigh of relief. Ferrigo turned to see a rolling, linear dust cloud rise behind a large, armored eight wheel all-terrain vehicle.

His wife leaned slightly down and kissed his lips. “I guess speeders are different out here?”

Ferrigo smiled, and gradually stood up, and over his small wife, and took his helmet from the hook in the cockpit. “Should be fun to watch.”

“Let’s hope not.” Alor’akada put her helmet back on, and turned to follow her husband as the cargo ramp opened, letting natural light and dust to fill the cargo hold.

Ferrigo watched, as the inert forms of Montross and Brelek Kuporr were hauled on a floating repulsor-sled into the ATV.

“Sir,” the correctional facilities officer shouted above the din of the Shaak’s idleing engines, and those of the ATV. “The Republic Judiciary Department thanks you for your contribution in securing these wanted criminals.”

“I didn’t do it for the Republic, but I’ll accept the gratitude. You’re welcome.” Ferrigo turned, took Alor’akada’s hand and tapped the button on his right gauntlet to close the ramp.

Within minutes, they were cleared to depart.

“Next stop?” Alor'akada Neviik leaned against her husband, with her gloved hands on his shoulder armor plates, and kissed the right side of his head.

He smiled back at her and looked at their helmets, hung up together. “Kashyyyk.”

A Stroll of Awe In Rwookrrorro<span id="cke_bm_76E" style="display: none;">
In the capital city of Kashyyyk, the homeworld of the Wookiees, the two Mandalorian newlyweds wore modest, comfortable civilian clothes commonly found on Mandalore or in one of its colonies. Before they dressed in the morning, after taking a shower together in the cramped refresher, Ferrigo noted that Wookiees and Mandalorians had not always gotten along well throughout history, and the sight of Mandalorian shocktrooper armor might be taken as an offense. "Hod Ha'ran, Ferrigo," Alor'akada held her husband's right hand and looked up at him as they strolled past a series of tech workshops carved into the trunk of one of countless enormous trees that were occupied by gigantic, gear-wearing Wookiees.

"I know. You might think after we landed that there would be a very primitive culture to match the environment here," Ferrigo smiled down to his wife. "But the Wookiees are among the most technologically-advanced species in the galaxy."

"These trees, Ferrigo. I can’t even see the top of any of them. Did you learn about Wookiees at the Academy in Sundari?" His wife looked up into his eyes again with her sparkling blue eyes.

"Yeah, and from what my dad, uncle, and a few others involved with Prosstang Industries have told me," Ferrigo looked around before returning his gaze to his beautiful little wife. "The Wookiees are committed to fine craftsmanship in everything they do. I know of Mandos who hunt them for sport, as do Trandoshans. I'm not inclined to do that."

"Because you don't like to kill for sport?" Alor'akada asked, slightly teasing.

"Not for it's own sake. To feed or protect my family, clan, or the Mand'alor. The Resol'nare. Remember?"

Alor'akada smiled, bit her lip hard, and quickly, but softly punched Ferrigo's right bicep. "Lek, you big di'kut. Our children are going to be filled to the brim with our lifeways, my Aliit'alor, my husband."

"I know." Ferrigo smiled.

“I can’t believe how amazing you really are, Ferrigo,” Alor’akada stroked Ferrigo’s hand with her other hand as they walked hand-in-hand. “The way you saved me and Jannigo from the ship wreck, the way you took me on that street in Saerfahan and carried me away against your chest. The way you took out Montross and the other guy, and talked that Jedi out of giving us trouble. And the way you love me. So strong. So fierce. So giving.”

Ferrigo picked up his wife and spun her and held her stomach against his chest, his face in her chest, as she giggled. He lowered her to kiss her fully, and then settled her gently onto her shoes. A few Wookiees seemed to growl and bray with playful approval. Ferrigo, and then Alor’akada smiled back at the Wookiees.

"So the cargo we are delivering is strictly legal?" Alor'akada looked up at Ferrigo as she changed the subject.

"Yeah, weapons components are legal here, just not fully-manufactured, ready-for-use weapons. Prosstang Industries ships the housings, and some sub-assemblies for blaster rifles here."

"I thought Prosstang Industries had more diversity in what it made." Alor'akada said as she turned her gaze away to look on Wookiee crafters they passed. “Doesn’t Prosstang Industries make household furniture, cleaning supplies, and, even clothing?”

"Well, yes, cyar’ika, there is more variety to what the company makes. The company has many divisions, and a mining subsidiary. Weapons manufacturing is the heart of the company. What we started with. Thousands of years ago.”

“That’s a long time.” His young wife’s eyes were rapt with his as he spoke.

“It is. But, back to your original question. Outside of Mandalore we can sell weapons components, or the raw metals," Ferrigo slowed his strolling pace occasionally to allow his wife to keep up with him. "Legally. But the Wookiees, like many of us Mando'ade, enjoy crafting their own finished weapons. As a mark of life achievement. In most things, like us, they prefer to take care of their own needs."

... Alor’akada squeezed Ferrigo’s hand with her left hand. “Let’s try some of the food here.”

“I’m game for that.”

She chuckled. “I hope not. If any Wookiees think they’re gonna hunt you, they’ll have to take you from me first. And I’m not letting you go.”

Ferrigo abruptly, in a moment of passion, picked up his tiny wife and squeezed her chest to his neck and kissed her deeply as he cradled her rear with his right forearm, and pressed her into him with his left forearm. Both of his hands held her firmly.

With a loud smack, their kiss parted. Alor’akada gasped. “You’re hungry too. Oh, Kad Ha’rangir. I want you right now.”

“Let’s eat first, and I have to meet with a Wookiee weapons-maker. Then we’ll go check into a pension.” Ferrigo also caught his breath and set Alor’akada back down.

“Pension?” she asked.

“It’s a place older folks live, but they also take guests. Like a spacer’s hotel, but nicer, and the breakfast is good.”

====Alor’akada smiled.

Brrwoorffuls – Unconventional Wookiee Trader====

“Yes, I’m Ferrigo Prosstang, and this is my wife, Alor’akada.” Ferrigo smiled at the shaggy-haired Wookiee, who had motioned them to sit on stools in front of his work table.

The Wookiee, Brrwoorffuls, wore the hair around his face in beaded braids, tied back to keep his round face clear.

…

Marriage of Ferrigo & Lorakada (42 BBY)
Though Ferrigo and Lorakada would have preferred to have left it alone to their private bond that night in the Hopping Shaak, his parents insisted on a large wedding on Concord Dawn, 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 Alor'akada was talking with other guests, he was approached by an older gentleman who had earlier introduced himself as Jedi Master Dooku.

"Again, congratulations on your nuptials," the tall, greying Jedi dressed in a dark robe and suit of fine fabric smiled.

Ferrigo nodded politely. "Thank you. Master...Dooku?" He looked around for a moment and returned his attention to the rather intense gaze of this guest.

"Yes, I am Jedi Master Dooku," the man's bearded smile had an air of grimness. "You remember me. 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 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
...

The Death of Q'osstigo and Birth of Children (38-33 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“There is no margin of error. You know that there are consequences for failure. And the lessons will be lasting. Do you still believe you are suited to manage this broad set of instructions?” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I do. Nobody knows as much about the state of affairs in the Mandalorian Senate, and the situation with Prosstang Industries. Your boss needs me, Daronin.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I’m the boss. And you’re replaceable. Don’t forget that. The plan, in all of its components, must continue on course.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I’m no fool. I know more than you believe I do. You’ll want to keep me around. I can deliver Mandalore to your benefactor. I’ve kept his hands clean for well over ten years.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You report to me, <span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Prudence.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“For now. But you’d better watch your back.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">– The mysterious paymaster Daronin questions the resolve of the Mandalorian agent, ‘Prudence.’

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 hand 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. But war is a false religion.”

Ferrigo lifted his palms slightly. “I disagree with your characterization of the Aka'liit, The Faithful. It's not a religion. It's our culture. You have to understand that there are those who value our cultural history that don't seek to bring danger to our doorsteps. 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 are fighting here at home, and fighting 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 that has 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)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">“You know, he is your boss, Gela. And, they are my friends. There’s nothing wrong with reminding him of how very special he is. Alor’akada has had some difficulties with the children, and has found it hard to support Ferrigo. Nothing wrong with attending the meeting on her behalf. And, reminding him that he is worth caring for. Right now, he and I are not seeing eye-to-eye. But I care, too. Take care of our Aliit’alor.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">– <span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"> Ghetta Dehet, Chief Aide to the New Mandalorian Minister of Trade, prior to Ferrigo Prosstang’s trip to Coruscant to participate in discussions among a group of Galactic Senators considering forming a voting bloc to represent their shared interests.

Periodically, Ferrigo would accept high-end mercenary contracts, frequently subcontracting them to his cousins, Jannigo, Faaks 'Crack-Shot' Ordo, Yomaget Tre'vhek, Arrif Bolts'kan, Tan'ek Trat'tu or another of the small number of remaining True Mandalorians. However, much of his time following his father's death was spent running Prosstang Industries. Many challenges would lie ahead n the world of business.

Lessons in Diplomacy
In the early part of 34 BBY, Ferrigo departed Mandalore for Coruscant as he did at least twice a year, to represent Prosstang Industries before the various commerce, industry and trade subcommittees of the Galactic Senate. This time, he was accompanied by Gela Tre'vhek, his aide. The majority of their trip had been shared with the Prosstang Industries freighter, Bralir, or 'success' in Mando'a. Their MandalMotors Aka'jor Class shuttle left the docking bay at the rear of the freighter once in orbit above Coruscant.

"Thank you for bringing me along on this trip to Coruscant, Aliit'alor," Gela said with a smile.

"Don't thank me...thank my wife," Ferrigo said humorlessly with a sidewise glance from the pilot's seat. "SHE was supposed to join me on this trip. But, she has mentioned that you were looking for experience in dealing with politicians on the big stage.  Aside from this being new territory for you, I'm not sure why you would want or need to deal with these people."

"Well, no disrespect, my Lord, but I am your aide. Don't you think it would make sense for me to be able to represent YOU and Prosstang Industries while you attend to other business?"

"In the four years you have served me at Prosstang Industries, Gela, you have always done what I've asked.  I appreciate that," Ferrigo stated evenly, then his voice caught a little, rising in tone. "But there is much you do that you haven't told me about...I know too, from talking with your cousin, Yomaget, that you are quite adept in combat. Hand-to-hand.  Melee weapons. Blasters. Gauntlets. Aerial tactics..." Ferrigo looked over to Gela inquisitively. "Have I covered everything? Are you holding back anything else?"

Gela was quiet, her mouth slightly ajar as she considered her next words. "No, Aliit'alor, but one thing. I wish to serve you...In every way."

Ferrigo's brow furrowed slightly. "You're doing fine."

Gela continued pensively. "I want you, Ferrigo.  I want you to exercise the Right of Primacy historically held by clan chieftains.  I want to mate with you."

It took Prosstang several seconds to recover his voice after a sudden bout of coughing. "Well," he cleared his throat finally. "That isn't going to happen.  I am a family man, Gela."

"I want a family, too, my Lord. I want you to sire my children," Gela said, somewhat pleadingly.

"Alor'akada has put you up to this...hasn't she?  Another test?" Ferrigo turned his head slightly toward Gela. "Tell her.  I am a one woman man.  I love our children, and I love her.  I don't want ANY one else.  For the sake of Kad Ha'rangir, she's carrying our fourth child."

Gela's expression tightened as she continued her pleading quietly, in a slightly quivering voice. "Nobody has to know, Ferrigo."

"Drop it. This conversation is over," Ferrigo said sternly in a low tone, before he continued 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 affection most of the trip to Coruscant, especially during the logistics of getting showered and changed alone in the refresher, Ferrigo felt exhausted. He landed his personal craft on the deck. Obtaining clearance from the Galactic Senate Guard flight authority was a breeze compared to the considerations of his administrative aide.

As the ramp lowered to the Galactic Senate landing deck below, Gela turned to Ferrigo as if to say something. He raised his index finger between them. "You came here to learn about politicians on Coruscant. I am your boss. I am your Chieftain.  Observe, and be quiet, unless I ask you to speak up."

"Yes, my Lord," Gela responded, and followed a step behind and to the left of her Aliit'alor as they were escorted by two Senate Guards, each wearing a flowing deep blue robe, topped with a somewhat conical helmet festooned with plumage. Their appearance, and countenance was indeed impressive and Gela expressed as much to Ferrigo.

The guard to the left turned slightly to Ferrigo and spoke as they neared the entrance to the rotunda from the landing bays. "Baron and Lady Prosstang.  I'm Sergeant Faro Argyus. Your Senate Guard escort during your time here," the man, whose visible fair features and demeanor spoke of noblesse, prepared to continue before Ferrigo interrupted.

"Sergeant Argyus, this is my executive aide, Ms. Gela Tre'vhek."

"Please accept my apologies," Argyus offered evenly, not sounding embarrassed. "If you have any questions, don't hesitate to use this comm device to ring me up."

"We will. Thank you, Sergeant," Ferrigo turned to Gela and took her hand as they crossed the threshold into the Grand Concourse of the Senate Rotunda, which was much warmer than the slight winter chill outside. Climate control of the greatest ecumenopolis in galactic history had not been perfected.

Within moments, Ferrigo and his aide were approached by a corpulent blue-skinned male Rutian Twi'lek and two pale pink-skinned female Lethan Twi'leks. "Ferrigo Prosstang of Mandalore, and...Prosstang Industries.  Ahhhhhh....and who is this?" The male Twi'lek made a referencing gesture to Gela.

"Senator Orn Free Taa...this is Ms. Tre'vhek, my executive aide," Ferrigo turned back to the Twi'leks after regarding Gela for a moment.

"Very pretty, Baron Prosstang.  Perhaps we can discuss increasing your firm's presence in Lohemaryll," the large Twi'lek smiled and winked.

"Perhaps we can.  Do you know where we are supposed to meet, Senator Taa?"

"Yes, at the office suite of Senator Palpatine of Naboo.  They are waiting for us," Taa said with some concern in his voice.

"Everyone is ready to discuss the issues?" Ferrigo stifled his distasteful memory of his last meeting with Senator Palpatine so many years before, and gathered Gela to begin to walk with Taa around the Rotunda Grand Concourse. "Taxation of trade shipments along the Hydian Way?"

"Well...I am a little disappointed, frankly," Ryloth's senator lamented. "I thought we would be joined by the Jedi Master Dooku.  He was to have introduced the possible inclusion of Serenno in the league of systems committed to free trade we have been considering."

"I thought Jedi were only responsible to the Jedi Council, and the Galactic Senate.  But Serenno is right there on the Hydian."

"Baron Prosstang. You can say nothing about what I am about to tell you," Orn Free Taa continued cautiously, leaning toward Ferrigo. "I have heard Dooku has been considering leaving the Jedi Order to take up his family's birthright to lead Serenno."

"Who would tell you such a thing, Senator?" Ferrigo caught Gela's expression of deep concentration with a slight backward glance. He returned his full attention to Taa and his attendants as they continued through the concourse.

Taa spread his hands momentarily. "I...cannot say.  But it is becoming common knowledge that systems like Serenno have been hurting from lack of access to safe and free trade. Mandalore can't be doing too good either, no?"

Gela spoke up. "We have been suffering through a civil war, on and off."

Ferrigo cast a quick and sharp glance at Gela. Her blue eyes flashed back and she offered a slight shrug as Orn Free Taa stroked his chin and spoke. "Similar circumstances for Ryloth, as you are surely aware, Baron Prosstang.  I thank you and Prosstang Industries for your continued investment.  And security.  Most Twi'lek are peaceful and industrious, yes?"

"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 Sanya Tagge. "Perhaps this issue needs to be raised.  The lack of executive direction from the Galactic Senate and the continued instability and insecurity of trade routes..." Palpatine trailed off, gazing out the large window of the suite, perhaps at the streams of traffic visible at mid-level of the Senate Building.

"The Trade Federation will not stand for taxation," Senator Lott Dod, the Neimoidian representing the Trade Federation spoke tersely, pressing his broad-tipped finger into the table. "We have been providing the life-blood of the Republic, for well over a century. And we have been under attack, in the very hyperspace lanes we navigated and recorded, and in the Senate Chamber." Ferrigo watched Senator Palpatine move, seemingly in deep contemplation along the window. Senator Dod continued. "Only recently, one of our Lucrehulk-class freighters was destroyed by pirates - and NOTHING has been done by the Republic to address this terrorism. No Jedi dispatched. No investigation."

"Sounds like the Trade Federation needs to beef up security," Ferrigo stated plainly across the table to Senator Dod. "...again." Ferrigo gazed at Palpatine, whose back had been turned to the conference table.

The Naboo Senator turned around and shared a gaze with Ferrigo for a second, and then strode toward the table apprising the rest of the guests as he spoke evenly. "I believe we can all appreciate your grave concerns, Senator Dod.  The matter at hand is whether or not the flow of goods from the Outer Rim will continue in the face of three challenges."bor

Senator Taa spoke up. "Palpatine, you must tell us. The third challenge? First is the Trade Federation being able to protect its goods. Second is the ability of the Republic to provide real value for taxation where there is no standing army. What is the third?"

"Dear Senator Taa. I believe you have misunderstood the challenges presented by the current set of circumstances," Palpatine softly chided with his index finger as he continue to move toward the Twi'lek at the head of the table. "The challenges are more fundamental in nature," Palpatine turned and began to walk behind those seated on the right side of the table. "There is indeed a distaste for raising a standing army, Senator Taa. There has never been a substantial effort to explore such an undertaking in the history of the Republic. Though I do believe we may find it necessary to do so, I myself have misgivings about...raising a standing army.  The costs of recruiting, training and providing shelter and sustenance for an army would most certainly bankrupt the Republic.  And who among us here...many of you in the so-called 'Rim Faction'...are prepared to levy taxes on your citizens and businesses to fund an army of the Republic to protect the free trade most of us can heartily agree is necessary for the prosperity of our home systems?"

"We are happy to have our own planetary security," Baroness Sanya Tagge caught Ferrigo's attention. "There is no need to raise a standing army for the Republic. The Trade Federation might benefit from being allowed to raise its limit on security personnel, much as we handle our own."

Ferrigo leaned forward in his chair. "I can't speak for the Mandalore's government, but in the interests of ensuring the safe and secure transport of our goods and the goods of other concerns providing fair compensation, we maintain a security force." Ferrigo saw the corners of Senator Palpatine's mouth turn upward slightly.

Lott Dod blurted, forcefully pounded the table. "Then this group must support an increase in the number of security droids we may have!"

Ferrigo shook his head. "No way. We shouldn't be supporting more droids for security...or combat," he continued after casting a gaze across the gathering. "Mechanised terror is a tool we can't afford to give tyrants."

"Wh--- Are you calling the Trade Federation tyrants, Prosstang!?!" Senator Dod was nearly glowing with rage.

"That's Baron Prosstang, Senator Dod," Ferrigo said evenly, and stood from his chair, spreading his hands to make a point. "The use of living assets in securing and maintaining the peace ensures that the terms of peace are earned and balanced with a respect for freedom and liberty. For those whose lives and rights are protected, for those whose interests are staked as leaders of government and commerce, and for those who themselves protect the peace."

"Well said, Baron Prosstang," Palpatine said, regarding Ferrigo fully. Ferrigo felt uncomfortable for a moment, and then sat down. "Our future Senator from Mandalore, perhaps," Palpatine smiled tartly, turned and walked amid the low din of muffled laughter that Ferrigo allowed himself to enjoin. Palpatine reached the seat of the Senate representative from Muunilinst at the end of the table nearest the door. "That is your third challenge, Senator Taa.  Baron Prosstang has laid it out for you.  The rights of those protected, and how they are defined.  Is it enough to protect corporate free trade where citizens are treated by their governments contrarily to the tenets of the Republic and democracy itself? Will the prosperity from trade continue to improve and maintain freedoms enjoyed by the citizens of our Grand Republic?"

"Okay, Palpatine, what are you going to say on the floor?" Orn Free Taa asked impatiently. "Are you going to represent the interests of the Mid- and Outer-Rims?"

Senator Palpatine pursed his lips, smiling slightly before speaking. "In Ars Veruna, our King, Naboo has no interest in expanding the authority of the Republic to affect by fact or shadow to occupy our homeworld, awaiting a phantom menace to our enjoyment of peace. The Chommel Sector as a whole is of a similar mind in this matter.  However, other sectors might be of an entirely different mind due to the harsh realities of constant harrassment by pirates and other outlaws.  I can appreciate both points of view.  I will be speaking for my people today. I can assure you that Supreme Chancellor Valorum knows of your concerns.

"I appreciate hearing your thoughts and concerns," Palpatine began to motion toward the door to the suite. "I feel better prepared for my time on the floor, which is shortly. Now, if you would all please excuse me." Palpatine smiled at Ferrigo and nodded with a slight tilt of the head to suggest he join the Senator from Naboo in his walk. The rest of the gathered senators and commercial representatives left their chairs, many of them beginning or resuming conversations. As the attendant gave him his hat, Ferrigo briefly caught a glance from Baroness Sanya Tagge and they exchanged a smile before he joined Senator Palpatine.

Gela was soon near her clan chieftain's side in the Grand Concourse. The Senator spoke without looking at Prosstang. "Very wise words, Baron Prosstang. The Mandalore system could use a voice of reason like yours.  You do know, the Senate representative from Mandalore is considering stepping down, don't you?"

"I have not heard that...but to be honest, Senator, I'm not sure living like a bureaucrat is where I want to be," Ferrigo offered guilelessly. "But I know of many qualified candidates."

"Suit yourself, Baron Prosstang.  Your father...would be proud. But, I am sure you have your hands full. Good day." Palpatine bowed very slightly with a nod, and turned to enter his Rotunda Suite. After the door closed behind the senator from Naboo, Ferrigo turned to Gela, and they began walking back toward the transportation bays.

Gela was somewhat excited, or flustered, Ferrigo could not tell 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 the Baroness Tagge without breaking stride. "I thought we were very well introduced. But I'm Mandalorian, so my manners might be a bit crude."

The Baroness Tagge smiled in return, 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 Sanya 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 the 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 blaster 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 shocktrooper 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. "Tell me what you see."

"I see a rather tall man....ohhhh...fier...fek....osik'la shebs...." 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 chestplate.

Ferrigo realized he'd made a great mistake in accepting Gela along for this trip. Huge. He violated a trust. Gela wasn't Xossk. She wasn't Montross. And doing wet jobs was not his way. Not since his father died, and he took the reins of Prosstang Industries. As a corporate executive, he had to keep his hands clean. Using Gela as a sub to do a wet job for him seemed like a reasonable option the night before. Yomaget vouched for her skills. The fact that she had been under Ferrigo's nose for nearly five years as his executive aide, hiding her combat training and experience, bothered him.

Perhaps out of spite for Alor'akada's last minute evasion from what seemed like a solid, air-tight plan on this job, he reflexively punished Gela for her hesitation. He did have a job to do. He'd contracted for it. It would pay handsomely. Through Anurgga the Hutt, his old paymaster of the Besadii clan. He was pretty sure the Trade Federation was backing the deal. Alor'akada wouldn't have given a second thought to taking out a wet target. At times, that had bothered Ferrigo. Now, as he looked at Gela Tre'vhek in his arms, he realized he was no better than a beroya who took the wet jobs.

But it's what I am, a Mando'verd, a beroya. Maybe I'm Schingo Velrrus.

He finally mustered the courage to speak, but he measured his words, treading on a fine line as his own emotional state seemed to lack balance. He was feeling the need to console, even to love Gela. She had, even against her own wishes and judgment done as he commanded. She had in these moments showed a devotion he wasn't sure even Alor'akada could call her own. And he'd nearly let Gela fall to her death to ensure that the cover of his tracks on this job was perfect. Jaster's Legacy. "Gela, the job is done. Let's go. We need to dust off from here, head to the lower levels for a few hours."

Sniffing, Gela retorted. "You can kiss a striil, Prosstang, I'm heading back to Mandalore. Nowhere near you, or your business. Any of it."

"Gela. This isn't a game. If you cross me. You're as good as done," Ferrigo again felt and sounded cold. He knew the situation was as much his own doing as hers, but he knew that having Gela as a loose end would unravel the deception he had planned. A lucrative deception. "Now get your head on straight. We don't have much time, not even to seal the hatches."

Gela turned her back toward Ferrigo and grunted tersely, impatiently. "Turn it on."

Ferrigo pressed the a trio of buttons in sequence and stood to the side. "You're ready for ignition, ad'ika."

"Don't call me that," Gela put her helmet back on.

Exercising the Fabled Right with Gela
"I will exercise my Right of Primacy," Gela's helmet turned to regard Ferrigo's worn, grey and red-trimmed beskar'gam and helmet before he continued in the same calm tone. In which he had just seemingly issued his claim to her. "Let's go, the turbolift is almost here."

The pair of Mandalorians activated their jetpacks and lifted off and away, landing less than a minute later at a platform containing a T-47 airspeeder.

Gela turned to Ferrigo as he spoke. "Our ride. Climb in back," he gestured to the open cockpit, and removed her jetpack. He turned his back and Gela removed his jetpack with a tug of both hands.

Holding her jetpack, Gela did as she was told. After Ferrigo climbed into the front cockpit, setting his jetpack between his feet, he quickly activated the flight control and nav systems and lifted the speeder from the platform. Within fifteen minutes, their T-47 was spiraling downward into one of the large ventilation ports to the lower levels of Coruscant. Ferrigo slowed and steered the speeder into a dark alcove surrounded by discolored light panels that featured the dark green Aurebesh lettering Garage. On entering the throat of the alcove, interior lights flickered on along the path of a low, narrow tunnel. On entering the parking deck two levels down, Ferrigo found a parking space and recorded the location with a few taps of his right gauntlet keypad. He assisted Gela in climbing ot of the speeder and hopping down onto the parking deck.

"Where are we?" Gela asked warily.

"Home," Ferrigo turned his helmet to regard Gela. "For now. Come on." Ferrigo led his assistant to a repulsorlift elevator, opened the door with a push of the lower of two large round buttons. They entered the elevator together and moved to the back wall. The elevator engaged and moved downward rapidly. Five floors above their destination, the magnetic brakes of the elevator hummed with engagement, and slowed the descent until stopping at Level D-236. The entire ride down the visors of Ferrigo's and Gela's helmets were locked in a gaze, no words being exchanged. Ferrigo checked his gauntlets, and then Gela did the same.

Ferrigo exited slowly and carefully, and moved to the right and scanned his field of vision and HUD for any warning signs as they walked the hallway among hotel room doors. "D-236-R12."

"What's that?" Gela asked wearily.

"Our room." Ferrigo waved a card in front of a pad at the right side of the door. The door slid open quickly. Ferrigo put his arm around Gela to help usher her in more quickly.

"Get your hands off me!" she snarled on the private channel. The door hissed shut. The room had a view of the undercity urbanscape, with speeders traveling in thick lines at a variety of altitudes between the durasteel alloy fields that sandwiched the squat, round and spired buildings jutting up from below or down from above, as they were.

Ferrigo pulled off Gela's helmet, then his own, dropping both. Gela was exasperated. He pulled the bag off of Gela's shoulder after shrugging his own to the floor.

"What are you doing? Leave me alone." Gela shifted, but Ferrigo pushed her full force onto the double bed behind her. She gasped and growled.

"You fight me, will it be to the death, Tre'vhek?" Ferrigo seethed through tight lips.

Gela's eyes showed fear. "What have you become?!"

"Gela...ne beroya. Ne kar'taylir naysol dalare. Naysol ramaanar. Ne suvarir gar kar'tayl ne. Ne ceta. Ne ceta." Ferrigo began to cry, and sat down on a chair near a small table in the corner of the room. The entire room was large enough for a refresher with integrated shower, sink basin and toilet, the bed, a full-length and width window opposite the entry door, and the table with chair. A holovid screen was fixed from the ceiling above the chair.

Gela sat up, then stood, walking over to Ferrigo. She slapped his face hard with her open right hand, and then proceeded to slap him for the next ten counts as quickly and savagely as she could. Her seething growls and whines faded into a long sob as she fell into him.

Ferrigo put his hot, wet, stinging face into the armor plates below and on her left shoulder and continued sobbing. "I am so sorry, Gela. That was not the man I want to be. It might have been the man I was trained to be. But I would never want to hurt you. You have been so good to me."

"But you did," Gela sobbed with a long whine. "You did, Ferrigo Prosstang. Why? I love you. You were all I dreamed about."

Ferrigo cried aloud and gritted his teeth. He unlocked his gauntlets and let them drop on the floor. "I love you, Gela Tre'vhek. You've given me everything you could."

She slapped him hard across the face. Twice. "Don't say that ever again!"

"I love you!" Ferrigo stood up and took another slap to the side of his head.

Ferrigo grabbed Gela in his arms and kissed her mouth deeply. Her resistance was firm, as she wiggled and moved her legs. He pushed her onto the bed, fell on top of her, and their beskar'gam clattered together and chafed.

"What are you doing!" Gela muttered and pressed her hands against Ferrigo's chestplates, trying to push him up as he firmly pressed down into her. Kissing her neck, his hands unfastening the side clips of her armored vest and the snaps of her arm and leg cover pieces. She whimpered as he then covered her mouth with his.

In a moment, she saw the hunger, sorrow and anguish in his eyes. And love. As his tongue probed into her mouth. His hands had cradled her head, and his moans were barely stifled. She gasped at him as he lifted slightly. "Take this off. Take it all off, ner cyar'yc Gela."

Ferrigo could see the hunger in her eyes, the anger melting into desperate lust. He wanted Gela more than anything now. The years he watched her at work, her attractive face, short and stylish blonde hair, her provocative walk, the times she attentively took dictation, and spoke his name with pride to other people. With a distant attraction, that he now realized only from recent events. He considered that her love for him was as pure as he had ever known. His own hunger for her grew with that thought. Her voice would never sound the same.

Soon their gear and clothing was strewn about the small room, and both Mandalorians were under the sheets in a fierce struggle to express every emotion they felt in fleeting and lasting moments of bittersweet, raging love and lust for one another. Gela did not, and could not stop herself from being opened and tamed by the man she had loved and dreamt about since she began to mature more than fifteen years before.

He took her again and again, loudly proclaiming and protesting the smooth, exquisite qualities she not only possessed, but shared with him utterly.

"You own this body, Alit'alor," Gela gasped and moved under Ferrigo, holding herself together for his desire to feast. "Hod Ha'ran! I love you, baby! Take me over the edge again! All over you!!"

Prosstang arched his back, groaned and grunted hungrily into her endowments as he lost all control over his cadence with a hastened rhythm of ministration. Gela saw the bruises of her lover, her Aliit'alor, and squeezed his swollen, bearded face into her yielding softness as she wailed his name. Ferrigo was both raw animal and tender lover with his executive asssistant, and her body yielded torrentially to his natural gifts, talents and pleasuring ways repeatedly through the night. The next morning, their hair disheveled, Gela kissed Ferrigo repeatedly as she rested and pressed her body into his. He groaned into awareness. "Elek, ik'aad?"

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum, Ferrigo, Baron-Aliit'alor be Prosstang." Ferrigo returned her kisses hungrily and pulled her onto him fully, feeling her smoothness sticking to him.

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum, Gela, ner cyar'ika."

Before one hundred counts, they resumed their passionate, hedonistic, athletic coupling. In her course, Gela cried at him again and again to give her everything he had, and Ferrigo was absolutely certain that he had. His own yells punctuated his contributions, and their hands and mouths explored each other's bodies without boundaries. The comfort control system in the room was taxed beyond its capabilities, the window of the room covered in a sheet of condensation that was streaked by water drops.

As their appetite for food replaced their passions for each other's company, Gela sighed. "I know you can't leave her."

"I know," Ferrigo's voice was deep and soft. "I do...love Alor'akada. And the kids."

Gela ran her hand across his chest, looking into his eyes. "But I now know that you love me too. More than any man I've ever known."

Ferrigo smiled. "I have to be responsible, Gela. I can't officially exercise the Right of Primacy. Not without severe consequences."

"I know. I love you Ferrigo. And I don't want to share you. Now that I've had you in my arms. And everywhere. But I know I have to share. With Alor'akada." Gela seemed to think as her fingers stirred her lover's hair and played with it. "Is it true you've had several hundred women of all kinds of species?"

Ferrigo pinched his lips together and scanned the ceiling for an answer. "I haven't counted in a while, Gela," he took a deep breath and his eyes shifted to gaze at her. "I have had few heartbreaks. Three, or more. The rest have been...fun. Nothing more."

"Is Alor'akada fun?" his beautiful assistant probed.

"You're dangerous, Gela." Prosstang stroked her back with his right hand. "And safe."

"I won't break your heart, Ferrigo." Gela smiled and stroked the side of his bearded face.

"I didn't say they broke my heart." Ferrigo stared at the ceiling. After ten or so counts, a tear trickled from the corner of his eye as he thought of Relia Vu'udrel, Kenna Luxuara, and Aallyss'anada. He also thought of Raaleena Warlan, Bekkah Tettix, Cheelie Vyn, and Teena. Raalee, he had heard settled down in the last five years after serving on Hondo Ohnaka's crew, as his right hand and consort. Bekkah, whom he had considered visiting after learning of the death of Teena, to see if there was any hope of rekindling their past, had already moved on. Durrk Trant'tu, a member of Clan Prosstang, had accepted an assignment from Melaa Kuporr to protect Bekkah on Saleucami, and they married within a year. The Tettix-Trant'tu family was expanding.

Over time, he thought, after meeting and marrying Alor'akada, his disappointments faded into happy memories. Ner prash. My pride.

Recounting the Wet Job
"Is Alor'akada good to you?"

Ferrigo put up his left hand. "We shouldn't talk about Alor'akada. This is about you."

"Ferrigo?" Gela looked into his eyes.

"Yes?"

"Can I trust you to never try to kill me again?" her bright blue eyes and full lips slightly ajar kept his attention.

Ferrigo's eyes teared up. "Yes. I hope you can forgive me, Gela." He gasped and inhaled more deeply. "I will never do another job with you, either."

Gela continued to caress him during a silence of several minutes, his hand caressed her in return.

"You never did say why Alor'akada sent you in her place," Ferrigo looked around the room without moving his face, and ended with his focus on the holoprojector screen.

"Are you not happy?" Gela softly kissed his neck.

"Despite our feelings for one another, I honestly would have never...this would not have happened. Not if Alor'akada didn't break our arrangement. Her promise. Our plan."

"Your plan?"

Ferrigo sighed. "Your cousin."

Gela's eyes and visage darkened considerably.

"Don't worry. He's alive. And wealthy. We staged his death. Huge bounty. Big payout. You're getting Alor'akada's cut."

"You made me shoot him," she raised her voice and her eyes misted. "I killed him myself."

Prosstang shook his head slowly. "Yomaget is alive. Trust me. I planned it out with him, and Alor'akada. With her as the sniper. To buy him some time. And get some money out of our old paymaster." Gela stared at him. "Of course, you can't talk about any of this. To anyone." Ferrigo gazed into Gela's blue eyes.

"Of course not, Aliit'alor."

The Great Hunt Revived (33 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“My Lord. The Mandalorian agent has begun to organize the test, according to your plan. We shall have a prime clone that is clearly the best warrior among peers.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“The plan is ours. And there must be no mistakes, Lord Tyranus. And no traces. The fate of the Republic, and its protectors, is at stake.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Yes, Lord Sidious.” <span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">– Dooku, Count of Serenno, the fallen Jedi and newly-raised Lord of the Sith, informs his master via holo projection, of the preparations for the Great Hunt.

An Inside Pitch
Ferrigo sat behind his desk, and looked out the curved transparasteel window of his office in the relatively new Prosstang Industries headquarters building in Keldabe. A cloud of warm air floated in front of his vision.

"Well, will you think of it?" Dhettos Kuppor's voice croaked again. He had been insistent for the last twenty minutes. "Schingo Velrrus. Wouldn't he do this?"

"Why me?" the Mandalorian's faraway gaze was locked on the tower spire of MandalMotors. He considered the recent commission he had placed for a personal spacecraft prototype. A collaborative effort code named Prasz'la, or Proud, with Prosstang Select Arms Manufacturing handling armaments and special armor plating, the ship would become the executive fleet for Prosstang Industries.

"It's a lot of money, and prestige." Dhettos said softly and plainly.

“And risk. You’re not the one whose neck is on the line, Dhettos. And there’s no guarantee of being paid.” Ferrigo turned the chair to face his body double fully. “Do you and Mi’ila need anything? I’d like to think I’ve been generous.”

"I’m thinking of reputation, Aliit’alor. You’ve been very generous. Mi’ila and are very thankful," Dhettos spread his hands slightly. “Ajar’dor and Kee’linara are doing well. Mi’ila and I love them like our own.”

“Thank you for being there for them, Dhettos.” Ferrigo thought of the morning that he found Teena, his lover, and mother of Ajar’dor and Kee’linara. She had been shot from behind with a blaster pistol, and what remained of her beautiful face left a grisly imprint on Ferrigo’s mind. “I’ll think on it.”

Tension
Alor’akada, her womb full with a fourth child, stared at Ferrigo. “Ten years ago, ner Fer’k, I’d have joined you or led you into a competition like this. But you know things with Prosstang Industries have been collapsing all around us. You’re still getting subpoenas from the Galactic Courts of Justice to testify on those allegations of illegal business practices your father and uncle regarding the mining business.” Ferrigo’s wife, still beautiful, began to tear up. She wiped her eyes, as she held their infant daughter, Nor’atine.

“Lor’ika, I’ve had to partition and sell off so much of our ancestral lands. Two hundred acres in the last year alone.” He gazed into her blue eyes, and then into the green-blue eyes of Nor’atine, who cooed and gripped her mother’s vest.

“That was your call, not mine. I’ve done everything I can to raise these children. And another on the way,” Alor’akada gasped and adjusted her hold of Nor’atine as their oldest daughter, Hand’alora, almost five years old, tugged at her mother’s right shirt sleeve. “What, Hand’a?”

“Buir’ma. Pre’s in the uj cakes again. Can’t keep him out.” Hand’alora then looked at her father with her light blue eyes and a knowing smile. “He loves Gammy Luna’s recipe!”

Alor’akada lifted Nor’atine onto her chest and gazed at Ferrigo again. “Would you please see that our son doesn’t eat all of the treats? I’d hate to call your grandmother to ask for more of those treats.”

Ferrigo attended to Preniik, who indeed seemed to have filled his mouth with several pieces of sweet, tangy uj. He lifted his three-year old son, and held him close to his chest. “Ad’ika, you’ll have to slow down on those. Mommy doesn’t want to have Gammy Luna come over when the place is a mess.”

“We’re in a Palace, Ferrigo Prosstang. You’re a Baron. I’m a Baroness.” Alor’akada sighed. “I’d like to think we’d get some help here. I’d like to think you could call in some favors with the clan. Maybe Redar Velrrus. Isn’t he supposed to work for us? Have him do this.” Alor’akada laid Nor’atine down onto a changing table, and began to clean their daughter in preparation for a fresh, new undergarment.

Ferrigo took a breath, after giving his son a kiss on the forehead. “I don’t want to beat a dead shatual, babe, but you already sort of told the people of Rhell’cyok that they were not welcomed here, except for Rodalgo Rhell. I’d have—“

“Got it. Not gonna hear it again, Ferrigo.” Alor’akada glared, as she pulled Nor’atine’s outfit back together. “I’m a bad person, I get it. They weren’t meeting their revenue quotas. I was just doing what the book-keepers tell me to do.”

“You know that I have ties throughout the clan lands, Lora.” Ferrigo’s lips tightened. “And you weren’t so precise with those land speculators around Detton.”

“That was five years ago! Haar’chak, di’kut! I’m sorry I’m not perfect!” Alor’akada yelled, as Nor’atine began to cry, and Hand’alora moved behind the food preparation counter. “Sorry, babies. Ferrigo. We should have this talk some other time.”

“When it pleases you.”

Alor’akada’s eyes flashed with anger, and she leered. “Yeah, it pleases me when I get to hear rumors about who’s pots and canisters you bang around while I’m away,” she gasped, and frowned. “And I’m the one who takes the blame with the people. That seems fair.”

“Woah, Lora. Hold on. Not here,” Ferrigo realized he had pushed his wife too far.

…

The Outer Bounds
"I'm not interested," Ferrigo, wearing his full Schingo Velrrus beskar'gam, looked the man known only as the Deputy Huntmaster directly in the eye.

"You haven't heard the offer." The Devaronian opened his hands.

Prosstang raised his eyebrows inside of his dark grey helmet, accented with faded and scraped red paint, and silver highlights. "I don't need to. I've heard about it. I real contracts. Real credits. Other business to attend to."

Decline of Prosstang Industries and Death of Signara
A few months later, Ferrigo returned to Mandalore from tense negotiations involving the Mining Guild, the Commerce Guild, the Trade Federation and the Banking Clan. During these negotiations, he sought to identify the parties responsible for a recent string of misfortunes rocking the stability of Prosstang Industries. At the Galactic Court of Justice for Trade & Commerce on Coruscant, Prosstang Industries was being stripped of its mining contracts for Bandomeer, Allyuen, and several dozen other mineral-rich worlds under false accusations of bribery and extortion. Many Prosstang patents pending for mining machinery improvements were also declined by the Galactic Office of Patents on questionable evidence. It was during this time that Ferrigo's mother Signara passed away in her sleep. It would be a few days before he arrived home to arrange the funeral. Years later, Prosstang would regret not being with his mother at her passing. His cousin, Jannigo, who had himself learned much about running the business, carried out many of the duties as Ferrigo's attention flagged.

While in Coruscant, Magister Hego Damask, a Muun and chief executive of Damask Holdings and a renowned influence with the Banking Clan, approached Ferrigo with advice and a suggestion. Damask considered Prosstang Industries fortunate to have any net income at all given the financial strength and treachery of the Commerce Guild. Further, Damask's friends of the Banking Clan were cold toward the idea of lending credit to Prosstang Industries in the times of uncertainty ahead with many systems seeking to secede from the Republic.

An Opportunity of Danger
Hego Damask suggested that Prosstang consider spending time seeking more work as a highly-paid bounty hunter - as there would be many parties interested in his services. Ferrigo was not entirely pleased to hear these words; feeling somewhat insulted as a businessman. As he looked upon the Muun, who wore an expansive and elegant cloak and was fitted with a breathing device that covered much of his neck and lower jaw, Ferrigo wondered about the rumored assassination attempt on Damask's life some twenty years prior.

After returning to Mandalore, Damask offered Prosstang via holoprojector the chance to make over eight million Republic credits for a one-off contract - with an advance of one million credits. His task was the removal, dead or alive, of a target who had become meddlesome in the affairs of the Banking Clan. Ferrigo accepted the job, and the encrypted holocron sent by Damask. On entering the code and opening the file, he recognized the image and name of the condescending senator from Naboo he met many years before. In his thoughts, Ferrigo recalled with discomfort with how the man seemed to manipulate his father with ease. He noticed a slight smile forming on the projected Muun's long face.

After conducting background research on his target's habits and possible vulnerabilities for a month, Prosstang prepared a rough operating plan to capture the target. And a backup plan should he need to eliminate the target. This preparation had not been easy. Ferrigo had been extemely careful in his efforts of surveillance, but sensed something of danger when following Palpatine, though he wasn't sure why. He returned to the Prosstang Estate on Mandalore to prepare a team to assist him in handling the target. After paying individual advances of 50,000 credits for their services and silence, Ferrigo provided a briefing regarding their duties - to secure Palpatine after taking him in. There were few questions, or words exchanged at that meeting in the otherwise empty tapcaf, The Itchy Strill, but coming from one of his trusted aides, Gela Tre'vhek, as well as his younger, distant cousins, they were prophetic.

Arrif Bolts'kan, a twenty-three year old nephew-cousin wore shoulder markings of his family proudly. As a nephew of Alor'akada, wife to the Aliit'alor Prosstang, he had developed a sense of privilege. He had trained with Ferrigo, but showed signs of disrespect on occasion. "This guy, Fer'k. You say you have all this intel..."

"Yeah." Prosstang said clearly, resting his hands on the table.

"Is it enough?" Bolts'kan raised his cupped hand and looked to Gela Tre'vhek.

"What do you mean...is it enough?" Ferrigo turned to Gela, then scanned the faces of Arrif, Tan'ek Trant'tu and Anjii Dawal-Kuporr. Anjii had separated from Brelek Kuporr and spent more time with her cousin Gela. This job for her had been taken as an opportunity to restore her self-confidence. Her children Rhanin and Lhonin were old enough to train as warriors, and that was her wish. She and Ferrigo exchanged a long gaze.

"This Senator...something...there's something not right with this." Arrif shook his head and raised his hands.

Trant'tu leered. "So, Ar'f, are you backing out?"

Bolts'kan shook his head.

Gela seethed. "There's NO backing out! We took the payment, we do the job." She began to shuffle and adjust her utility belt pouches.

"That's not what you're saying, is it, Ar'f?" Ferrigo gently grabbed Gela's arm. Anjii's gaze shifted to his hand and then back.

"No. I took the job. I'll do it..." Arrif protested gently. "I'm on board."

Gela whispered to Ferrigo. "Can he be trusted?"

Tan'ek stared at Arrif and razzed him in deadpan. "Di'kutlashebs'osik." Trant'tu folded his arms across his chest.

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, Tan'k?" Arrif was not backing down, even from a tease.

Ferrigo gritted and swept his index finger across the lot across the table. "Ke'sush!"

"If you want out, Ar'--" Gela impugned Arrif, but was cut short.

"I don't want out!  Listen!...I worked on a security job for a Trade Federation shipment about two years ago. That shipment was heading to the Chommel Sector," Bolts'kan's hands were animated. "Those grubby Neimodians were groveling to some hologram of a cloaked figure who told them that they needed to convince this Senator, Palpatine, that protesting taxes on Outer Rim trade routes was in the best interests of Naboo and..."

"Your point is?" Gela was clearly upset.

"Anade..." Arrif ran his hand through his black hair. "I don't think this Senator is an easy mark. Far as I know he didn't protest the taxes."

"Does it matter? Except for Anjii, I trained you," Ferrigo gently tapped his fist on the table. "You were therefore trained by Jango Fett, our Mand'alor. I trained all of you. Joruur gar gett'se, ner vode - mhi ganar bora."

A Family Stolen
Later that day, Ferrigo returned to the Prosstang Palace to ready the gear needed for the job. He was shocked to find his entire family gone, with plentiful signs of struggle and destruction beyond the entry doors. Whomever took his family knew the security access codes to enter the gates and doors of the Palace. And that light sabers had been used to destroy many furnishings and heirlooms. He was horrified to find two disembodied hands; that his wife hand been holding his youngest son. Ferrigo was enraged, but calmed himself long enough to collect and record evidence of the abduction. Once completed with his investigation, Prosstang dropped the data pad on a bed and threw his helmet across the room and screamed from the depths of his lungs

<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!!!..."

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

Restructuring a Deal with a Shuffled Deck
He contacted Hego Damask to cancel the contract on Palpatine. Damask refused, adding that he would be immediately sending a mutual acquaintance to discuss and resolve any complications with the contract. Throughout the day, Prosstang felt uneasy. His family and business life were severely destabilized. His team were already out in the game, preparing a trap for their target. And yet, he would have to deal with Damask one way or another. He wore his best suit of battle armor, made by one of the ancients of his clan, with more recent technological improvements to restrict its use to him alone. He remotely opened the gate and entry doors for his guest, the representative sent by Damask. Ferrigo had not cleaned up the mess of his home.

Ferrigo: "As you can see and report to Damask, I have other pressing matters here and elsewhere to attend to."

Guest: "I see there is much here for you to consider. My colleague of the Banking Clan has asked me to have you consider something else."

Ferrigo: "I know your voice. What…" [ Ferrigo entered the foyer to greet his guest]

Dooku: "Yes, Lord Prosstang. I am now Dooku, Count of Serreno. And as sad as I am about some aspects of my choice in leaving, I no longer serve the Jedi Order. I am here as a friend to your people, your firm and most of all, to you."

Ferrigo: "But you are here at Hego Damask's request. Do you know what he has asked me to do?"

Dooku: "There is grave corruption throughout the Galactic Republic. The Jedi Order are unfortunately agents led by deception. The debacle on Galidraan was but the confirmation of that. My dear friend and former Padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn recently died on Naboo as a result of a deception like this…My limited understanding of what you have been asked to do is influenced by my interest in forming an opposition to the growing corruption in the Republic. In time, I believe that Qui-Gon would have joined me..."

Ferrigo: "I appreciate your frankness, Count Dooku. But what else is Damask asking of me?"

Dooku: "Damask is a dealer in great power with many connections, Lord Prosstang. He is aware that a corrupted Jedi has been hired in secret to raise an army of clones in service to the Republic...but in reality, this army will serve a much darker purpose."

Ferrigo: "I suppose I don't follow, Dooku."

Dooku: "In the history of our peoples, do you recall the Sith?"

Ferrigo: "Yes. I have some knowledge. My own ancestors did not find favor in or with the Sith. But the Sith were eliminated nearly a thousand years ago."

Dooku: "If only that were true, my dear friend. Though I cannot share my thoughts and reasoning on the matter, I do believe that the Galactic Senate has come under the influence of a Great Lord of the Sith. Master Jinn died on the saber of a Sith Lord. And Hego Damask is as concerned as I am about the possible damage that a Sith Lord would have on the sovereignty of systems to determine the best futures for their citizens and the corporations that feed, shelter and clothe them."

Ferrigo: "Why Palpatine?"

Dooku: "He has been identified as a likely pawn of this Sith Lord. And his election yesterday as the new Chancellor of the Republic to succeed Finis Valorem...has raised the stakes."

Ferrigo: "Chancellor?"

Dooku: "Palpatine is a shrewd politician. Nothing more. But...he clearly would have knowledge of the issues concerning Damask Holdings. And quite frankly, Prosstang Industries. I have sensed, too, that Palpatine is familiar with the sources of corruption in the Republic. He may be our best hope of identifying and neutralizing the Sith."

Ferrigo: "So...this clone army…"

Dooku: "The corrupted Jedi, Master Sifo-Dyas, has been seen near the Dacho District of Coruscant. I am ashamed to say I once knew Sifo-Dyas. He was a friend. But, he left the Jedi Order some time ago. I sensed the Dark Side of the Force in him. Though I am not proud to admit it...by proxy of my advanced age, he is perhaps my equal or greater in forms of combat known to Jedi."

Ferrigo: "Sifo-Dyas came to see me not more than a month ago about being cloned."

Dooku: "Alone, I cannot match with Sifo-Dyas. I need the help of one of the finest Mandalorian warriors with an impeccable reputation for combat skill and keen senses. I would require your assistance, Lord Prosstang.

Prosstang considered what he had been told. He could tell that Dooku sensed his suspicion and uncertainty, as if added leverage would be needed to convince the Mandalorian of the threat of the designs of Sifo-Dyas.

Dooku: "I shudder at the thought that Sifo-Dyas would have...anything to do with the disappearance of your family. Perhaps the children carry the genetic material necessary to..."

Ferrigo: [withdrawing his dark saber from his belt loop] "I didn't say I refused his offer. And I've never said anything about my family to anyone, Dooku."

Dooku: [raising his right hand, while brushing open his cape with his left to show a curved light saber on his left hip] "There is no need to be alarmed, Lord Prosstang. Among Jedi I was among the best at reading the thoughts of others. You are clearly under duress, and have been easier to read than most...though, through no weakness of yours. I know you are powerful."

Ferrigo: "How?"

Dooku: "I have been negligent in informing you that Master Jinn once spoke of you long ago. He told me that you were more than met the eye."

Ferrigo: [replacing his dark saber on his belt] "You believe Sifo-Dyas is responsible for taking my family?"

Dooku: "I sense this to be true. I believe it is the will of the Force that has brought us together. To help each other. Neither of us can take Sifo-Dyas alone. But he must be taken. You are a highly skilled and courageous warrior, one of the most renowned mercenaries and bounty hunters in the galaxy. With my training, you can become much more powerful and capable of handling Sifo-Dyas. Join me, my friend."

Ferrigo: "What of Palpatine? My team?"

Dooku: "I will talk with Hego Damask about changing the objectives of your contract. Without a change in payment. Alert your field operatives to be prepared to handle a different package. With your news confirming the forming of a clone army, it is clear that Sifo-Dyas is the greatest danger at hand."

Training with Count Dooku Against the Sith Agent
Ferrigo accepted Count Dooku's offer of training and assistance in tracking and taking down the man he now believed abducted his wife and children. For two months in Serenno and Mandalore, Dooku trained Ferrigo in Jedi saber dueling techniques and use of the Force to disorient opponents by pushing them backward. Prosstang felt an increasing confidence in his use of his dark saber, and felt some pride in the Force abilities he had begun to harness.

Coincidences, Confusion and Betrayals
Dooku informed Prosstang that he received communication that Sifo-Dyas would be in Keldabe for a visit to other cloning candidates. The time had come for Prosstang to join Dooku in confronting Sifo-Dyas. For Ferrigo, it seemed time too long overdue. Prosstang once again prepared himself in his best armor, re-painted dark grey, with an additional insignia painted upon it to additionally signify his lost wife and children, the honoring of his father and the righteous vengeance at the center of his being.

Dooku would await Prosstang and Sifo-Dyas at the Prosstang Estate. Prosstang went to the Oyu'baat Tapcaf in Keldabe, and saw Sifo-Dyas at the bar. When the Jedi turned to him as if expecting him, he was taken aback. Sifo-Dyas asked if he could help the warrior standing before him. Ferrigo removed his helmet, and asked the Jedi to buy him a drink. The Jedi was a little surprised about the Mandalorian's change of mind. With the drinks downed, Ferrigo suggested they move their meeting to the Prosstang Estate to conclude business. Sifo-Dyas agreed, and followed Ferrigo's Mandalorian speeder with his own rental for the 200 kilometer trip.

As they entered the great hall at the Prosstang Palace, Ferrigo took off his helmet again, and set it on the large veshok dining table in the family den. Ferrigo considered the lost and destroyed artifacts of the Clan Prosstang that once hung in that very room as the corrupted Jedi took a seat as requested at the table. After a few minutes of conversation about the cloning process and payment, Prosstang came to the point.

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 datapad, 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 still 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, blonde-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 Ruling 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.

Trade 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 blonde 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 Didj 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.

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 shebs 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)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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 dark-colored civilian clothes, at a tapcaf in the underworld of Coruscant. It had been twenty years since they last saw one another at Galidraan. Jango confirmed the rumored deaths of Tor Vizsla and Vharian Montross, and they shared shots in belated celebration and talked for half an hour about several topics.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo sipped his drink and turned slightly to Jango Fett. "Jango, I'm in a bind."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"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.” Fett ran his hand through his short, curly, black hair that showed traces of grey. “Your reputation for success is nearly as impressive as mine. I could really use your talents and leadership in the Cuy'val Dar<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">, the training cadre. Seems that a few of our trainers are running out of steam.” Fett smiled and clucked. “Plus you could train the soldiers with a few of your parlor tricks."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Who would go and tell you about my magic act, Jango?" Ferrigo smiled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“So, are you in, or are you out?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Jango, thanks for the offer,” Ferrigo took a deep breath. “I'm glad you're alive, and doing well. You have my eternal thanks for wasting Vizsla and Montross."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"But..."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"But it doesn't feel right to me. 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,” Ferrigo took another sip of his drink. “I like calling the shots. And, if you hadn't heard, Death Watch is reportedly active again."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Death Watch?  There's not enough money in the Mandalore system to support any sort of army for or against the New Mandalorians.” Fett said, with some irritation in his voice. “In considering this opportunity, I knew the thought of feeling cooped up might not appeal to you. Jan'k turned down his chance too. Of course, I can't have either of you say anything about this offer. Or anything we've discussed,” Jango smiled. “Or I'd have to kill you."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo chuckled. "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.” Prosstang looked around the tapcaf before he continued. “Aruetyc corporations from the Core Systems and elsewhere have been invited to help feed and provision the people outside of our comfort zones. The Duchess and her Ministers want us to play nice or turn our heads. They don't want Death-"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"What do you want me to do, Fer'k?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You're Mand'alor, burc'ya,” Ferrigo nodded for emphasis. “I’d like you call the clans together, to meet and discuss the future of Mandalore. But it’s your place. Your call."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I love you like a brother, Ferrigo. But I don't give shatuals gett'se about those Mandalorians. They can kiss my shebs. Only you, and my brothers in arms. You are my Mandalorians,” Jango took a handful of nuts in his hand from a nearby dish and began to crack the shell of one of them open. “I guess it's tragic that your clan have you fit to be tied in so many ways.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean by that, Jango?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“It’s hard not to watch the news, and see what’s happening to Prosstang Industries. People who have no understanding about dignity, honor, and commitment are calling the shots, and putting you over the crate.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Can I count on you to call the meeting?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“No.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“What?” Ferrigo shook his head. “Mandalore’s future is at stake. Our freedoms.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Then, go ahead, Pross,” Fett sipped his drink. “Be Mand'alor. But it’s gonna cost you."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You've got your honor, I've got mine. Our prices of admission,” Prosstang moved on his stool. “Let's throw down, ner vod."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango looked directly at Ferrigo. "I'm talking about something precious to you, that I want. All to myself."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Let's take this out back." Ferrigo stood up from his stool. “Where we can talk details, in private.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">The two men walked around the side of the tapcaf, into the poorly-lit service loading area of the commercial block that the tapcaf was part of.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Ok, Jango. What is it?" Ferrigo gazed at Jango, as the two Mandalorians paced in a circle across from each other, maintaining distance around the imaginary arc.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I want to deliver a bounty on the killer of our beloved Relia Vu’udrel."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo smiled. "Why do you think that matters to me? I want to see Voodoo's killer's head on my desk."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">With an incredulous tone and the raise of an eyebrow, Jango responded. "Really?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Oh, yes." Ferrigo nodded.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Then I'll take her down. And you can have the chance to fight me for the glory of Mandalore."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"No, we do this, right here, right now,” Ferrigo pointed to the center of their imaginary circle of separation. “I have a meeting to call, remember?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Pross, why don't you just have me deliver you the head of Khatta Kels'mek, for your desk,” Fett shrugged slightly. “And I'll call the meeting. No need to have me maim you in a pointless fight."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You're sharp Jango. I'll give you credit. But Khatta Kels'mek didn't kill her mother."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango again raised his eyebrow as the two men continued to circle each other. "I've...hit a nerve, haven’t I, Pross?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"No, Relia was everyone's dream girl, Jango,” Ferrigo stretched his neck, with gentle rolling movements. “But she was her own woman. She deserved a long life."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Keep dancing around the shield, Pross. You think I don't know about your infamous reflexive deathmarks?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You lost me." Ferrigo shook his head quickly and squinted quizzically.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Fett lowered his chin and looked at the littered loading area. "I'm sorry, Pross. I really am. Remember Teena? Oyu'baat server?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Yeah, what of her?" The hairs on Ferrigo’s neck stood up on end.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I wasn't proud to do it. But I did. And she had some things to say before I finished the job."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Ni jii kark’yc venkyr’ami gar." Ferrigo seethed, indeed with the intent to kill.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango said brightly. “Jaster always said. ''The job first. Your feelings last''. You forget that? Don’t think Schingo Velrrus would.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You made a bad decision, Jango.” Ferrigo growled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“That girl told me about the game that Schingo Velrrus set up, Pross.” Fett paced and opened his arms as a mockingly grand gesture. “And that I would be getting killed soon. A bounty, one million credits greater, on my own head. For taking her out."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I'm not sure I want the title of Mand'alor by contest. I think I want to kill you straight out."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Pross. What would Schingo do? He's the best, isn't he? He understood what Jaster Mereel taught us. If you're gonna change the game, be sure you know where all the pieces are, and know your own rules. You never added Teena to your list, did you?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo’s lower lip trembled, his eyes misted in a rage. “You son-of-a bitch.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango took out a piece of metal out of his jacket, that was slightly larger than his hand, and placed it on a crate. “Well, that was easy now, wasn't it? Here. Here is my shoulder plate with the Mand'alor sigil of the Mythosaur. If you survive this, bring it back when you're done with this charade with Satine.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You touch Khatta, I cut off every appendage you have. Using the Rishi Maze as my template for each cut.” Ferrigo glared at his former friend, fully intent on claiming the title of Mand’alor. To avenge the mother of his son Ajar'dor and daughter Kee'linara. “You may not survive this.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Understood. Glad I could show you where the game really is,” Fett smiled and pointed at his own head of black hair. “Sounds like you really want to earn this, then. I'm good with that, Fer'k.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I'm not playing. I will kriff you up and down this level and the next forty-three down. Coruscant won't be large enough to hide your entrails if you touch that girl.” Ferrigo growled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Woah, Pross. Slow down."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You've hit a nerve. I hope you have MU-12 checked regularly,” Ferrigo burned his gaze into Jango’s dark eyes. “Hate to have anything happen to little Boba.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango Fett puckered his lips in surprise, then showed a smile, albeit nervous. "Well. Let's go ahead and toss aside considerations, and get the shebs-kicking into high gear, shall we?"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Prosstang flashed a few feints toward Fett.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I've killed many Jedi with my bare hands, Ferrigo,” Jango grinned with a tinge of anger. “You heard that? Hope you're ready for a sheb'labrokar.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"I know you used your vibroblades. Sounds better to say bare hands."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Damn straight." Jango smiled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Oya manda!!" Prosstang charged Fett.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">As he raised his fists in defense, Jango shouted. "Oya!!"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You must be strong to rule as Mand'alor, Pross! You're being outclassed by Coruscanti secretaries!"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Kriff you, Jango!!"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"K'atini! K'atini, Pross." Fett's feet danced and shuffled.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo gathered himself up, jaw aching, blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth and prepared to minister aid to Jango. "Jango...you’re don-"

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">A loud thud, a flash of light, and a concussion leading to a deep pain, swelling from between his legs, and into his stomach, chest, knees, shoulders, sent Prosstang flying backward with a loud exhaling moan. He landed into a stack of cartons, crushing them under his momentum and weight.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Ferrigo <span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman""> coughed, and grunted. "I canna see."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"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. "Ne jurkadir, Fer'k." Suddenly, Jango spun quickly to look over his left shoulder.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Prosstang punched his right fist hard into his former 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 until his knees pinned 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.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Gonna skin you alive. Fett.” Ferrigo growled, through bloated and tightened lips. “Unless...you...tell me...who put the hit...on Teena. She was just...a karking server, Jango.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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 held a conversation that was impaired by swollen facial features and mouths filled will cuts.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"You're...a cheeky di'kut, Snake." Jango moaned.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Give me the fierfekkin' badge, Jango. And the name. Now.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">"Sorry, Snake. I can only say...that you already have a contract out there.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Who?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango barely shook his head. “Do the math, Pross.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">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 bartender handed them wet rags to clean their faces.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Jango casually grasped Ferrigo's hand, and handed him a small, dark-colored, fastened sack. "Take this. The tooth.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Ferrigo looked at Jango. “Not bringing it back.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">"My son will come for it, someday, if I don't get it back." Jango <span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman""> mumbled. "Drink."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:6.0pt;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Ferrigo <span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman""> tried to smile, through the tears of pain, loss, and victory. "Be careful,” Prosstang slugged back his drink, set the glass on the counter, and opened the door.

<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Jango r <span style="font-size:11.0pt; line-height:115%;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">aised glass as Ferrigo departed slowly. "We were the best, ner vod'ika.

A Convention of the Clans (Late 25 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I don’t like her, Kor’lek. I see <span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri !msorm;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin !msorm; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri !msorm;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin !msorm; font-style:normal !msorm"> <span style="mso-prop-change:"William D\. Osborne\, AICP" 20141221T2101"> the  <span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">way she pauses and looks at him.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Who? The Baron? She’s just a kid, Ms. Tre’vhek. And very nice people. Some really good ideas for—,” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I know she’s trouble. If she was ‘faithful’ Mandalorian, she’d be getting married by now. See that someone in the village gets her attention. Away from my man. My Baron, my Mand’alor.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Well, Ms. Tr—,” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Call me Gela, chakaar.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Gela, with all due respect, ma’am, you were the dream wife of every older boy in Rhell’cyok. They always talked about you when your family would come north from the Tre’vhek lands. The older boys, I mean. But you never got married.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Go help little Miss Grayson and her aruet’yc entourage fix up the banquet tables. I never see her boss, Camellon Sardrans around.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Sorry, but it’s Sardronis, ma’am. His name is—,” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“I’m going to get a drink. And then meet the dignitaries. Keep a close eye on the aruetii, Ur’mogg. And get her set up with another boy, or man, or something. She bothers me.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">   – Gela Tre’vhek and Kor’lek Ur’mogg, trusted aides to Clan Chieftain and Mandalore the Uniter II, Ferrigo Prosstang, talk about the stunning young blonde girl with her team of diligent employees as they prepared for the momentus Convocation of Chieftains in 12.25 BBY.

A Time for Gathering
Around the time of the regional harvests, Ferrigo and Jannigo Prosstang sent out word to all the families of the Clan Prosstang, as well as the leaders of clans throughout Mandalorian Space that a Convocation of Chieftains was being called during the week prior to marking of Winter, at the Prosstang Palace. The Convocation would discuss the incursion of galactic corporations into New Mandalorian affairs; and by extension, the lives of all Mandalorians.

The Convocation would be an official business meeting that would occur within the larger Convention of Clans, a rather enormous celebration of traditional Mandalorian culture and folkways. The week-long Convention of Clans in more recent times had become something of a minor galactic phenomenon. Though it was usually selected to occur in a rural region of Mandalore, or one of the planets under Mandalorian rule, beings arrived to celebrate as strangers, or distant relatives, from as far away as Eriadu, Zeltros, Nar Shaddaa,Ord Mantell, Tatooine, Corellia, and of course, Coruscant.

Of great interest were the warrior skills, weapons displays, and armor-making demostrations, but also traditional Mandalorian foods, beverages, clothing, musical instruments, and live performances of music, dance, and poetry. These activities were enjoyed throughout the Prosstang Region, and many small encampments grabbed the edges of farming villages that had recently harvested the surrounding lands.

Security throughout the large Citadel of Prosstang Town for the Convention of Clans was tight, but appeared well-composed, and low-key. Outside of the Citadel walls, the partying, the commerce and fellowship of revelry, and some more than playful fighting took place, and indeed into the rural villages and fields of the Prosstang Region. Campfires of varying sizes roared each night, and a Corellian merchant could be found drinking, eating, and improperly singing Mandalorian songs with Gran accountants from Malastare, or Togorian harness-makers visiting their Mandalorian relatives who might have called the planet Ordo home.

On the face of it, many of the more than seven hundred attendees of the Convocation being held in the Great Hall of the Prosstang Palace were surprised to hear that Ferrigo Prosstang had become Mand'alor. Some attended primarily to find out how it came to pass that the host of the Convocation of Chieftains, and by extension, the Convention of Clans, became the leader of the Faithful. Those who sought to hold onto, promote, or even return Mandalore to the warrior traditions of ages past. There were many conversations inside the various rooms and chambers of the Palace, which were open for touring. Except for the private chambers of the Aliit’alor Prosstang, his family, staff, and occupied guest quarters.

The leadership of over twenty clans was represented, all in beskar'gam of varying styles and vintages, in the Great Hall of the Prosstang Palace. Many more people from families of the clans were present in the galleries of the upper floors. Some individuals, whose families were known, or suspected, to have ties with Death Watch were welcomed without unfair consideration during the Convocation. It had been extolled as a time of peace to discuss a grave challenge to all of those who cherished the independence and self-sufficiency of Mandalorians, whether they lived in accord with many of the traditional cultural legacies, or had given themselves to the modernities of other cultural influences. Differences were put aside for the moment that was the Convention of Clans. That many of the Faithful had wearied of three decades of low-level to intensive conflict also bid well for peace during this celebration of Mandalorian tradition and discussion of contemporary issues.

As a custom of ceremonial honor, Ferrigo Prosstang wore the ancient purple and yellow painted beskar'gam and helmet worn by his ancestors, with the Mythosaur sigil shoulder plate he had obtained from the Jango Fett, as the previous Mand’alor. That shoulder plate was now painted yellow, to complement the entire colorful ensemble.

However, as the new Mand’alor still showed some facial bruising from his fight with Jango Fett, as he held his helmet against his left hip, many of the clan leaders and others wanted to talk details of the battle.

After being asked for the twenty-sixth time that morning, Ferrigo sighed. “No, there were no weapons involved. Just our fists.” He smiled, and winced from the pain inside his mouth.

Brao’tus, the heavy set chieftain of Clan Kels’aan laughed. “Prosstang, never would have guessed that you, of anyone, would be Mand’alor. Just incredible.”

“That’s mighty kind of you to say,” Ferrigo turned and regarded other guests with brief waves and nods, before returning his attention to Brao’tus Kels’aan.

“Tyro Kels’mek used to talk about how intelligent your sister Brena, and cousin Mittis Kels’par were. It’s a shame they both perished on Galidraan, along with your oldest brother, the Aliit’alor, Bhen Kels’aan. All of them had the potential to be exceptional leaders of your clan.”

“Huh?” Brao’tus Kels’aan grunted, as Ferrigo excused himself to greet other guests.

The new Mand’alor ambled through the Great Hall toward a group of familiar faces, and shook hands and exchanged brief greetings with members of various clans along the way.

He caught a glance of a familiar, young, and exquisitely beautiful face, framed by blonde hair, piled on top of her head. The girl. She wore plain clothes, and seemed to be administering to a table of food.

The table she tended was placed to the south side of veshok panel divider that separated the Great Hall from the large karyai, or living room. The main fireplace, a small kitchen, and a sizeable switch-back stairwell with illuminated steps were located to the north of the karyai. Above the karyai were the three galleries from which the suites of the Prosstang Palace were accessed. Each gallery had been retrofitted during the chieftainship of Ced’rigo Prosstang, Ferrigo’s paternal grandfather. The floor panels were outfitted with ornamental, inlaid grooves for seat footings. Hydraulic pistons were positioned under the ornamental floor panels on slide tracks, to lift the floors at angles to view the Great Hall below.

“Ferrigo! Congratulations!”

Ferrigo’s view of the breathtaking woman-child from Grayson Galactic was interrupted by the man owning the loud voice. “Bregar Hayar! Good to see you!” Ferrigo shook the bearded man’s hand, and continued to walk slowly, as he tried to emerge from a distracting, but pleasant mental or emotional haze.

He clasped hands with several other men and women, until a moderately-built man with greying, short-cropped hair, wearing nice civilian clothing gripped his hand firmly. “Ferrigo Prosstang. I mean, my Mand’alor.” A large smile surrounded the deep, gravelly voice.

“Kal Skirata,” Ferrigo smiled. “Good to see you. Is she here?”

“Don’t look, aside from the third most important man in her life, she doesn’t know who you are. But she’s one level up.”

“Third most important?” Ferrigo gave Kal a genuinely puzzled look.

“Her lover is first. Her buir is second. Then the Mand’alor.”

“How is she?” Ferrigo leaned in to hear, as the volume of surrounding conversations seemed to rise. “Cuun Vood’ika?”

“She’s a real natural,” Kal looked into Ferrigo’s eyes. “She’s tough as beskar bolts. You know she’s not gonna stop til she finds you. She’s nobody’s fool.” Skirata took a deep breath, as Ferrigo gazed into his eyes. “And I’ve fallen for her. Hard.”

Ferrigo listened for another second with tightened lips, before taking a breath. “She’s not safe with me. Not yet. She still needs to be trained. Like her mom. But harder. Not gonna lose her. You’re still my guy for the job, Kal?”

“Pross. I love Khatta.” Kal Skirata’s smile faded. “And, she loves me.”

Ferrigo straightened up and forced a smile, as he looked above Kal, and finished speaking to his former mentor. “She’ll get through this phase. I just need you to focus on training her. Fett seems to think you’re spending too much time away from your other job. Whatever, and wherever, that is. He’s also expressed an interest in the bounty on cuun Vood’ika. Do your job. Do it. For your Mand’alor.” Ferrigo returned a stern gaze to Kal.

Skirata grinned tightly. “You motherkriffer, Prosstang. I haven’t cashed a single payment you’ve sent. Being with Khatta is not a job.”

Ferrigo stared at Kal with his forced grin.

“I’m not kidding, Prosstang. She’s not like Relia. She’s not like you. We share a loyalty to one another.”

Ferrigo ignored the off-handed criticism of his, and Relia’s past. “Lose my daughter, and you’ll visit the manda.”

“Ti’nebatir,” Kal growled softly, turned and walked away toward the rear staircase access to the upper level galleries of the Prosstang Palace Great Hall.

The Statements of Clans
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 Convocation. 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 Clan Prosstang agricultural liaison with the New Mandalorian government had a report. 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 to the Ministerial meeting this evening, 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."

"Watch yourself, Vizsla. Ferrigo: 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 ancient, hawk-faced 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, our people 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.

Bringing a Little Voodoo Home (4.23 BBY)
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You’ve had this planned all along, Prosstang. You can’t stand the idea that Vood’ika would be happy with me, and have my kids.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Kal, you’re so wrong. I want you both to be happy. But you’ve been getting Fett interested in what you’re doing with my daughter. And he’s not against helping someone else to put her down so that you can focus on that job you’re doing.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“You’re a kriffing chakaar. She loves me, Ferrigo. We just lost twins. Can’t you just ease up, or keep the heat off?!” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“And you’re off to your job over three-quarters of the time. And getting in trouble for it. I’m bringing her home, Kal. If you can convince Fett to release you from that job, I’ll see to it that you both have a nice place in Prosstang. Probably countryside. You can check on—,” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal">''<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“Har’chaak! You know that job’s huge. I’d have to kill you and her if he gave me the word.” ''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">“We both know that’s not gonna happen Kal.” 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:1.0in;margin-bottom:6.0pt; margin-left:1.0in;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">– Kal Skirata and Ferrigo Prosstang discuss the safety of Prosstang’s daughter, and Skirata’s protégé and lover of three years, Khatta “Vood’ika” Vu’udrel.

For His Heart and Daughter
Ferrigo sat in his office within the Chieftain’s Quarters of the Prosstang Palace, and looked at Melaa Kuporr, seated across his desk comfortably. Only a few minutes before, he had straightened up his office after feeling a warmth and familiar presence touch him.

“Melaa. You’ve been dabbling with Grandma Luna’s worn flimsiplast tomes on arcane magicks?”

“No, even better than that.” Melaa winked and allowed the right corner of her mouth to upturn with a smirk. “Alexzandria and her team are having an afternoon at the market.”

“And you’re not with her? I don’t trust those guys. Especially the one with long black hair.”

Melaa sighed, and fanned out her long fingers, and offered a sarcastic smile. “You’re talking about which one?”

“I don’t know their names. And quite frankly, I don’t care to. I just got a really bad feeling from that one.”

“Well, that clarified it, Mand’alor.” Melaa smiled and tilted her head. “I still can’t believe it.”

“What?” Ferrigo sat up and leaned his elbows on his hewn veshok desk. “What can’t you believe.”

Melaa covered her mouth and coughed. “Your visions. The visions. Alexzandria is not entirely comfortable with her situation, either.”

“Look, I'm staying away,” Ferrigo gazed directly into her eyes, and put his palms above the desk, facing his cousin. “What more do you want me to do?"

“It's not about you.” Melaa Ur’mogg stretched into the back of her chair and looked for a moment at the angular chandelier.

“And?”

“Some of her team are…,” Melaa opened her hands and looked at the chandelier over the desk again. “…a bit hazy about boundaries.”

“I'm good with boundaries.” Ferrigo flashed a winning smile that he’d used often in the last fifteen years since assuming the head of both Clan Prosstang and Prosstang Industries.

Melaa gasped and giggled briefly. “You?”

Ferrigo’s smile evaporated, and he shook his finger at her. “Hahaha. Funny, Kuporr.”

“Ur'mogg. And maybe you can help,” his cousin, still beautiful as a mother of five children, bit her lip. “But I don't think I want your manly energy rousting the village."

Ferrigo coughed aloud and gasped, with a smile, as her humor caught him off-guard. And not for the first time. “You offend and flatter me, all in one sentence. How do you do that, Kup?”

“Even after all these years, you’re still not as difficult a target as you believe you are.” Melaa flashed a broadening, closed-lip smile.

“I know. You're still aching about my visit earlier in the year. As Schingo Velrrus, running the exercise teams."

Melaa leaned forward, and her eyes changed to convey a seriousness. “She sensed something about you. She forgot the kiss. Though I can still see the dreaminess in your eyes."

“She?” Ferrigo shrugged slightly and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, Velrrus. Stop being dense, or I'll have Kor'lek whack those knees of yours. Alexzandria. I'm talking about Alexzandria.”

Prosstang smiled and steepled his fingertips in front of his mouth. “Kup, I can't stop thinking about her. But, there's so much on my mind. I'm going crazy.”

“You have a harem somewhere?”

“Not funny. But again, the flattery and insult weaved together,” Ferrigo gestured at a painting of his father. “No, the legal and competitive assault on Prosstang Industries continues.”

Melaa gave Ferrigo a sympathetic look. “She's not having an easy time of this either, Mand'alor."

Ferrigo inhaled slowly. “Melaa. You can't tell anyone what I'm gonna tell you in a few seconds."

“Should I ask to leave now?” Melaa turned her head toward the doorway without breaking her gaze from her cousin.

“No. Because, once again, you've provided me with an inspired thought.”

“Uh-oh. Why do I feel I'd rather be cleaning rocks down by the stream right now?” Melaa looked at her wrist chrono unit. “I think I only have another quarter hour. Alexzandria doesn’t like to be away from me. And I adore her.”

With a deadpan expression, the Aliit’alor leaned back in his seat. “I'm gonna bring in someone to help you out."

“Miss Grayson is great,” Melaa vibrantly gestured, and glanced around the office. “She helps Mi'ila, Dhettos, Amaana, the Rhells, and she is almost like another daughter to me.”

“I'm not talking about that kind of help. But, it might do some good to have another set of hands around for that too. I'm talking about someone to help keep Rhell'cyok secure.”

“Oh. I could have been moving on to brushing the river weeds by now, or having Ji’ina come home from the Academy to help with that.” Melaa then rested her eyes on Ferrigo. “Please don't tell me that you're gonna bring one of your mercenary friends to our village. We had a hard enough time dealing with my brother Brelek after he returned from some infernal prison stay.”

“I'd ask you about cousin Brelek, and how he's doing, but I already know.” Ferrigo’s expression tightened slightly.

“Good for you. Back to Rhell'cyok. Who, or what, are you talking about bringing to my peaceful village?"

“First, I have a question.” Ferrigo raised a single finger.

“Oh, Hod Ha'ran, Velrrus. Do I need to strangle you? I'm certainly feeling it.”

“Amaana, and Grandmother Lunasa would not approve.” Ferrigo tapped his fingertips together.

“I'm sure they'll love this idea. Get to the point.” Melaa checked her wrist chrono again.

Ferrigo gazed at Melaa seriously. “Do you still keep in contact with Ghetta Dehet?”

“Sometimes, why?” Melaa shrugged off an implied accusation.

“Remember. Silence will be golden. She doesn't need to know what I'm doing, nor what will be changing here in a few months.”

“Gonna kill you. So glad I didn't become part of your harem. First cousins and all that,” Melaa tried to keep her composure as Ferrigo chuckled. “But cousins can kill each other. I can’t count how many secrets of yours I’ve kept over the years. So drop it, and tell me what’s coming.”

“You are a joy to me, Melaa. Thank you for everything,” Ferrigo smiled and interlaced his fingers below his chin. “My daughter by Relia Vu'udrel will be coming to town to keep an eye on things. And I want you to be her secondary handler.”

Melaa Ur’mogg was not sure she had heard correctly. In her years of knowing her cousin Ferrigo Prosstang, she had seen and experienced many things. But…

“Yeah. Voodoo and I apparently had a daughter.” Ferrigo opened his hands and spread them apart.

Melaa’s jaw dropped open a bit wider. Her eyes were locked on Ferrigo’s.

"She's beautiful. And dangerous. And, she doesn't know who her father is,” Ferrigo clasped his hands back together. “And she won't. Understood?"

Melaa took a deep breath as she leaned forward, then looked at her cousin again. “You take every piece of uj cake I can make, you know that?”

“Melaa, the visions. Remember the one I told you about, destruction?”

“Velrrus. You have a daughter. And you're hiding from her.”

“She has a wanted dead bounty on her head for killing her mom, Kup.” Ferrigo took a breath. “I’ve been having her trained by one of Jaster’s best. And it’s time I finished the training.”

Melaa tightened her lips.

“And only I can protect her, as Velrrus,” Ferrigo winced. “But I can't have anyone with a blade to grind for me looking for her here.”

“I hope the Manda has this all figured out, Schingo,” Melaa raised an eyebrow, as her voice trembled slightly. “You’re gonna bring a girl with a price on her head for killing her mom, into my peaceful village. Have you thought this through, with Alexzandria in the picture? Hmmm?”

“She’s my daughter, Melaa,” Ferrigo considered yielding more information, but decided against telling her about Jango Fett’s veiled warning. “I need to complete the girl's training. She will protect Rhell'cyok. Whip some of these lads into shape. Keep an eye on Alexzandria, keep her safe.”

“Don't know if you noticed, but Alexzandria's team are almost like bodyguards.”

“Or fashion models who can't orient a plow correctly.” Ferrigo quipped.

“Did I report that?”

Ferrigo looked thoughtfully for a moment at the chandelier over his desk. “Once upon a time, Kup. Yeah.”

“He's getting the hang of it, now.” She smiled.

“Nonetheless. Something doesn't feel right,” Ferrigo bit his lip and shifted his chin before gazing into Melaa’s eyes. “And I love that girl. Teenager or not, I've seen the future. But my time, Kup. I think it's running short.”

The muffled sound of powered construction equipment began to filter into the office. Both Ferrigo and Melaa looked around and at each other for a moment.

Melaa rested her hands on her lap. “You're gonna be fine. And no pleasure-land passes with Miss Grayson because of some deathwish. She's still a kid,” she then pointed a scolding finger at Ferrigo. “And don't go forming a harem unt—,”

“Stop it, Kup! I'm so done with that. That's the past. Let it go. I only want Alexzandria Grayson. The sweetness of my soul,” Ferrigo’s lips parted. “I've felt it in her eyes. In the vision."

“Sorry,” Melaa coughed. “But you have to forgive me, for my eyes were burned by some of the things you've done."

“Melaa. The vision of destruction. Like never before, a few days ago though, I died,” Ferrigo’s eyes misted slightly, and then he squinted. “Felt my spirit jerked from my body.”

“Not eating too much of that tiingilar, are you?” Melaa curled her left hand under her chin to lean on it.

“No, Gela can't stand it.”

“Of course not. Where is she with all of this?"

“We barely talk anymore. I've told her that I can't touch her.”

“Oh,” Melaa seemed to fish for something to say, with humor. “Maybe she's tampering with your water glass at night, and that's contributing to the vision thing?"

“Always glad to talk with you, Melaa.”

“You done already? What about your daughter, her—,”

“Ke'ana Widden.” Ferrigo said plainly.

“I'll make sure she's welcome,” her eyes sparkled. “I think my mom has a spare room and bed.”

“Thanks, Melaa,” Ferrigo straightened a smile. “Not a word of this to anyone.” Ur’mogg gazed at Ferrigo firmly. “You can trust me.”

Ferrigo inhaled deeply and sat up straight before he stood with his fingertips on his desk.

Melaa rose from her seat in sync with her cousin, and asked him a question as she lifted her handbag from the floor. “So, were you seeing Relia when you were on Nar Shaddaa?”

“No. Happened after Galidraan. Tyro was dead. I didn't know until a short while ago,” Ferrigo smiled wistfully. “Someone tried to put Relia down around the time Ke’ana was born. She probably felt ashamed to come after me.”

“You’d already moved on, right?”

“Yeah,” Ferrigo glanced at Melaa and then looked out the window of his office down onto Velrrus Street and its fresh market. “So much happened, so quickly then.”

“And you’re sure this Ke’ana Widden is your daughter?” Melaa seemed slightly dubious.

“She's mine. Oh yeah, no doubt.” Ferrigo nodded.

“I'll keep an eye out for her, though you should probably upgrade my equipment.” Melaa flashed a smile.

“Don't tempt me,” Ferrigo scoffed lightly. “How is Kor'lek doing with all of these changes? I know that I've put a lot of responsibility on the lad...”

“He's handling it well,” Melaa smiled and began to move toward the door. “Seems to get along great with Alexzandria, and her team.”

“Not in a—,” Ferrigo quickly grabbed his right hip.

“No. She has had the same visions as you,” Melaa gestured to Ferrigo. “She agonizes, like you. But she gets on with her work, and spreads joy to others. You should do the same.”

“Melaa, remember? I oversee a corporation that strip mines impoverished planets, and I kill people for credits who make Hutts angry, in my spare time.”

“You thought of a career change?” Melaa retorted.

“I think I'm working on that now,” Ferrigo looked at his desk, with a few stacks of flimsiplast and a datapad that he kept password locked. “Not sure what it is. But Ke'ana is likely gonna inherit what I leave behind.”

“I promise not to tell her that it's an osik'la inheritance.”

“Ori'vore, Melaa. Ret'urcye Mhi.”

“Ret' ner vod, ner Mand'alor.”

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
"Baron Ferrigo be Prosstang," the Duchess Satine Kryze said with a smooth and even voice that underlined her noble bearing. Or pretense. Ferrigo was contacted by the Duchess Satine Kryze in secret to discreetly collect intelligence about the effective and long-enduring blockade of Mandalore. After several months of investigating the various factions potentially involved in the blockade, most especially Separatist, Republic and Death Watch, Ferrigo reported back to Satine.

Ferrigo: "Duchess. My 'people in the fold' report that Pre Vizsla has made an arrangement with the Trade Federation to siphon goods into the black market since Almec has been emprisoned. The Death Watch are attempting to mediate the market without your hand, Highness."

Satine: "Is that all?"

Ferrigo: "No. The Grand Army of the Republic under the leadership of General Kenobi will soon be entering neutral systems as a show of their resolve. They too will not be seeking your permission in acting to control our future, your Highness." Sensing her displeasure, he added, "Duchess. Say only one word, and I shall call on our people of iron to loyally and honorably protect the interests of all of Mandalore under your government."

Satine: "No. Mandalore shall not turn to violence to maintain the peace, Baron Prosstang. Despite your repeated calls for military action, and the fact that you have taken on the title of Mand'alor in violation of our laws, I have restrained the Cabinet from placing you and others into custody. I will let you know if I need your loyal services further."

Ferrigo: "Don't wait too long to make the call, Duchess. The time of peace is running out.  Our people have earned a good life. We will stand and fight to protect Mandalore, and that prospect of a good life, if need be. That is a promise..."

Satine: "And a threat?"

Ferrigo: [turning and walking away to the entry] "...to those who would have the people of Mandalore answer to the rule of force by aruetii ."

For Mandalore and Clan
Within two weeks, Ferrigo was aboard a small freighter with Corellian markings, with a ten man detachment of Republic clone commandos led by Alpha ARC-47, Captain Boomdodger. Prosstang was asked by Satine to present himself as Pebak Ummarn, a Republic-friendly businessman needing an escort from the Mandalorian Sector to Corellia. During their travel toward Corellia, Ferrigo sensed an awareness from ARC-47. They talked about the travel plan, and the role of the Republic in the Outer Rim, and the qualities of fine food and companionship.

Ferrigo: "I'm surprised. You know quite a bit about life beyond soldiering."

ARC-47: "Really? We were friends once, Snake. Jango wasn't just a template."

Ferrigo: "I've never met you before. What are you talking about?"

ARC-47: "I'd be lying if I said we weren't flash-trained to memorize an archive of possible threats and assets to the welfare of the Republic. Including Ferrigo Prosstang. Likely Separatist sympathizer. Arms maker and dealer. Mandalorian mercenary. One of Jaster Mereel's men during the Mandalorian Civil War. Family abducted around ten years ago. Threat level: Moderate. But even more, I remember you. I believe I have some of Jango's memories."

Ferrigo: "Impressive fiction, ARC-47."

ARC-47: "Call me Boomdodger. Please."

Ferrigo: "Why?"

ARC-47: "Fierfek, I'm a man, Pross. And though I've never met you before, don't you think I've earned the right as a sentient being to name myself? I call myself Boomdodger. Shall I call you Mr. Ummarn?"

As Prosstang pondered this conversation in confusion, a heavy and sudden jolt knocked him and Boomdodger from their seats on medium sized crates. Many packages strapped above, now freed from their fastenings, flew about the hold. The interior lighting switched to throbbing red while the alert siren cried in synchronicity. A hiss sounded, and the clone commandos who could lay their hands on their helmets pulled them on tightly. Ferrigo felt his legs weaken as he tried to stand up again. He vision faded to darkness as he passed out.

Boomdodger picked up and loaded Prosstang over his left shoulder and carried him into the passenger cabin. Other clone troopers assisted Boomdodger in securing Ferrigo quickly into a seat harness. Boomdodger called over Helix, a clone trooper medic, to tend to Ferrigo's injuries.

Ferrigo awoke to find himself looking up at a dark, overcast sky and Boomdodger firing a DC-17m from behind the cover of torn and bent durasteel panels. When Prosstang asked what happened and where they were, Boomdodger replied, "We were taken down by a small armada of pirate ships over Tarnith, Snake!  You have been out for hours.  All the rest of our crew and team have been taken out.  We're down to 4 shab'la plasma clips on my Deece!"

Ferrigo: "Why didn't you leave me behind?!"

Boomdodger: "Snake! I am NOT gonna leave my friend behind! Helix said you'd be okay!  No brain damage! [Pausing to fire a few shots over the barrier] He gave you quite the load of sedatives!" A heavy blaster 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."

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'shebs 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.

Ferrigo Prosstang Meets 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, the prototype Prasz'la class sloop he commissioned in collaboration with MandalMotors. He shifted a small roba hide 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 the Prasz'la sloop, 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. All 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." Ferrigo scowled.

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, if you don't mind, Baron Prosstang." Maxzimillian Grayson seemed satisfied, looking to Alexzandria.

Ferrigo exchanged glances with Alexzandria for a moment. “I’ll see to it that the meal presentation is exquisite.”

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 the colors in the later part of the growing season, 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. It has been 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 a few exceptions. My own mother was a chief advisor to a senior minister in Duchess Satine's cabinet, as well as the cabinet of Duke Bieldo, Satine’s predecessor."

"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," Ferrigo looked to Alexzandria, and hesitated before he continued. "I don't wish to discuss that matter 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.

Alexzandria glanced at Ferrigo and smiled. “Baron Prosstang, you do know that the farmers of Rhell’cyok have incorporated the practices me and my team have demonstrated for them, don’t you?”

“Well,” Ferrigo replied sheepishly after exchanged glances with her parents and then gazed at her with a warm smile, taking in her beauty. “I've heard a thing or two. The proof is on the table. And so very succulent."

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," Maxzimillian 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. Maxzimillian 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," she then looked 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...

Reeling In The Years: Voodoo's Child
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 shebs 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: Alexzandria's Gift
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, and feel 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 <span id="cke_bm_47S" style="display: none;">  cyar'ika<span id="cke_bm_47E" style="display: none;">  ."

"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 playful tartness.

Sisters & Daughters: Hand'alora
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.

Sisters & Daughters: Khatta
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 shebs 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 didn't let it go. 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, after you dropped off Tyro's gear. And after she began to suffer from her disease. To help me understand who Tyro Kels'mek was. But they 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." He paused a moment until he realized the entirety of what his daughter had told him. "Disease?"

"Yes," Khatta said softly, her gaze downward. "She couldn't hold her arms level or lift heavy weights. Walked with a limp. And she had a slight nervous tic on the left side of her face. Over the years, her muscles weakened."

Ferrigo gasped slightly, his eyes seeming to search his memory for an explanation. Relia had never been anything but a pillar of strength. "When. How old were you when the disease began?"

"As long as I've been alive," his daughter sighed. "Mom...always seemed on the edge of falling apart. Or she disappeared for days on end. Hoping that a man would stay and help take care of her. And us. There wasn't a man in Negat who couldn't play her like a cu'bikad board."

Tears formed in Ferrigo's eyes. "I am deeply sorry, Khatta. I...never knew."

Khatta shook her head. "She used to watch holovids of herself, you know. In training exercises. I guess from when she was active. Some guy named Kal was in them, dishing out friendly insults and she gave 'em back as good as she got. She didn't talk much about it until I asked her about using her gear, which I found when I was eleven or twelve years old. She was a very different person in those videos."

"She was an amazing woman, Khatta," Prosstang firmed his lips. "Most men and women did everything they could to stay on her good side. I thought if I stayed with her, I wouldn't stay on her good side."

"Maybe not, but I think you sold yourselves short," she said with a tinge of bitterness. "In time, as I said, she did find company with other men. Many men, in fact. Most of them not worth the mud on my boots. But she filled my life with many little half-sisters and half-brothers."

Ferrigo got up from his chair and moved to his daughter's bedside, placing his open right hand on her left forearm. "I am here for you now. I can't change the past, only embrace a brighter future. You are my daughter, ner adi'ka. You are a Prosstang by blood. And in name, if you will accept me as your father."

"I have a lot to think about," Khatta said quietly, looking into the corner of the room near the door.

Ferrigo nodded. "I understand. You need more rest. Don't make me come back in here and dart you," he said in good spirits as he edged closer to the door and looked over his shoulder.

She lay there looking at him. "Oh sure, dart your daughter while she is injured. I see how you work now, buir." his daughter laughed and then growled with a sharp pain.

Ferrigo turned slightly looking back a moment before exiting the room.

The Journey: Braxant Run to the Celanon Spur
Ferrigo, wearing his purple frock coat and black durafelt hat turned to CZ-DV8, or Deevee-Eight, his long-time protocol droid and smiled. He turned and glanced further back to R4-W8, or Wait-For, his equally long-serving astromech, who was plugged into the engineering systems.

"I'm glad to get out of Er'Kit. What a blazing pit of treachery." He continued to assess the indications and input the hyperspace lane alignment update provided by the Prosstang Industries contact at the Er'Kit spaceport.

Wait-For chirped agreement and Deevee-Eight turned his head toward Ferrigo. "Master Prosstang, we do not believe the Er'Kit are known for principled bargaining."

"They're not. At least we have the updated coordinates for the shortcut from the Braxant Run to the Celanon Spur. That'll cut off several hours from our trip. Are we ready for the jump, Wait-For?" The astromech, covered with purple-tinted metallic paint with gold trim issued a series of beeps, boops, half- whistles and braps.

"Wait-For," Deevee-Eight said imperiously. "Master Prosstang wishes to get to Vel'un'du sometime this year."

"It's okay, Deevee," Ferrigo said with a grin. "Ner Kar'ta has serious hyperdrive capabilities, doesn't she Wait-For?"

More sing-song chirps and beeps from the astromech.

"If I do say so, sir, you are looking rather well-kempt for this trip." Deevee-Eight commented, then turned to face forward.

"You don't think I look presentable most of the time? Well-kempt sounds like I'm meeting minimal requirements," Ferrigo checked a few indicators on the control panel and above the pilot's seat. "I even trimmed my beard for her."

"Miss Grayson, sir?"

Wait-For beeped, chirped and cooed playfully.

"Hey, Wait-For. Watch your language." Ferrigo grinned. "We're set to hook into the Celanon Spur outside Ithor in the Ottega system."

The Prasz'la Class sloop shuddered very slightly and pulled forward until streaks and gasses of stellar forms filled the periphery of their viewscreen.

"Yes, Deevee. Miss Grayson. Who else would I be talking about?"

"If I might say, sir. You are not quite so young as you once were. And if memory serves me right, there was a Miss Aa-..." Deevee-Eight paused as his processor seemed to engage at a higher rate of speed with Ferrigo's apparent gaze. "But you are very distinguished in appearance, and most wise from years of hard-earned experience, Master Prosstang."

Ferrigo softened his glance at Deevee and chuckled. "She is a most amazing woman, ner vode. She sees me for my spirit. We dreamt about each other before we even met."

Wait-For disengaged from the engineering systems port and reported several beeps and boops before he retorted with a short squeal and twitter of laughter.

"Don't believe me, little buddy?" Ferrigo looked over at his R4 unit as it seemed to dance in place. "Deevee. Have you two checked the four DUM droids we have on board? I want to be sure they're ready to go if we need some extra hands."

"Why yes, sir. Wait-For had a rather animated talking-to with two of them. One of them kept repeating something about a Ms. Rawley or Hondo Ohnaka or something like that."

Ferrigo scratched his bearded chin. "Oh, yeah. Those two." He smiled. "The other DUM droid. What was his issue?"

Deevee-Eight seemed to be considering his words carefully. "Master Prosstang, this is embarassing. I am not sure you would appreciate the humor of the situation."

"Try me." The Mandalorian, outfitted as a man of business specifically suited as the chief executive of Prosstang Industries, regarded his protocol droid.

"Well...one of the DUM-series droids seems to have developed a rather strong fixation with Wait-For."

The astromech sputtered a long stream of chirps, snarks and braps.

Ferrigo smiled.

Later, he attempted to contact Alexzandria Grayson, to no avail. After getting a good night of sleep with Wait-For assisting the auto-pilot, Ferrigo put together a small breakfast from the nano-galley and was certain to have a sizable carafe of hot jawa juice ready throughout the morning. He inspected both sets of his beskar'gam. His Clan Prosstang ceremonial suit, which was fully-functional, and his 'Schingo Velrrus' grey suit with red trim. The latter had been put to use rarely in recent years, as it had been primarily the gear Ferrigo wore when he adopted his alter ego identity on bounty hunting jobs.

Ferrigo sat in the pilot seat, turned slightly to the side to look at the small astronav console. Deevee-Eight sat in the co-pilot seat. "Sir, thank you for allowing me to recharge this morning. I hope we do not regret bypassing Ord Mantell."

"It's really no problem, Deevee. Plenty of juice to go around, and we can hit Ord Mantell on the return trip. Those luxury droids won't miss you for too long," a wry smile rested on the Mandalorian's face. "Wait-For should be done soon with his charge, and we only need to stop for an update at Station 88 Spaceport."

"Why not Dorin, Master Prosstang?"

Ferrigo looked blankly for a moment at the control console in front of him as he searched his memory. "We won't have time to stop for a friendly visit with the Kel Dorians, Deevee. Besides, last I heard, Schingo Velrrus is still a wanted man in the Dorin system."

"Master Prosstang, that is a name I do not believe I have heard in many years." Deevee-Eight lifted his hands to accentuate his apparent concern at the recollection. His dark purple accented grey head turned, and yellow disc-eyes adjusted as if to regard Ferrigo. "A rather dangerous bounty hunter, if memory serves me correctly."

"Your memory serves you perfectly, Deevee," Prosstang smiled. ''And serves me perfectly too. By being selective, as I programmed you.'' Wait-For cooed and beeped softly, after he had turned his conical head to regard Ferrigo and Deevee-Eight.

"Yes, your memory serves you perfectly, too, Wait-For."

Within an hour, Ferrigo confirmed with Wait-For their location and brought Ner Kar'ta out of her jump just short of Station 88. Prosstang checked the heads up display inside the cockpit viewport, and guided the sloop into the authorized docking bay tube, turning the aft toward the connecting docking hatch. "Five hundred credits," he stroked his beard after unbuckling his safety harness. "Highway robbery, I tell you." Ferrigo then stepped down from the pilot seat platform and Deevee did the same, more slowly.

Ferrigo checked a number of systems indicators and pushed a few buttons. "Wait-For, you stay here with the ship. Deevee, we have to get the updates for the Roxulian Gap," the Mandalorian nodded as the astromech blipped, brapped and melodiously chirped. "Yeah, it's gonna be slower going after we come out near Dorin. We're not going to end up in a black hole. Got that Wait-For?"

The R4 unit beeped and tooted in agreement.

...

The Treacherous Invitation & Detention
Ferrigo had set course for Roxuli two days before. Ner Kar'ta was very responsive and capable of getting him to Velndon and its moon soon enough for the ceremony that the lovely Alexzandria Grayson was to face. He felt in his heart that he was meant to be there for her, with her.

Alexzandria's Trial of Discovery - A Series of Visionary Challenges
Ferrigo had donned his ceremonial Clan Prosstang beskar'gam, largely painted purple, with a central hand-painted sigil describing his life path.

Relia's Legacy: Trapped (21 BBY)
"So you think you just walk away after coming back into my life - our lives," 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 blast. "I thought all of us 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. "By myself. Someone is following you...a group of angry looking men on swoop bikes. Any particular reason they're following you...aside from that nearly four year old bounty?"

Khatta regarded her father, and did not speak until she turned away. "That osik'la bounty? You know there's no evidence other than circumstantial and a spineless Kels'mek sleemo for a witness."

"That bounty was posted well over 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-visor," 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 for 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. "You've told me all this. But I can appreciate that desire to put things into the past." 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. "Thing is, I remember back when I was a little kid. My mom explained that the reason she always walked with a limp and couldn't hold things firmly for a long time..." Khatta began to tear up. "...and her face sometimes slouched or had a twitch, was because someone darted her after you dropped off Tyro Kels'mek's gear."

Ferrigo gasped aloud. "What? I never heard about her being disabled, or attacked."

"She was thankful that I wasn't born with whatever she had," Khatta continued with a few sniffles. "She once told me that Tyro beat her after he found out she was pregnant early in their marriage. And he knew that he couldn't have been the father."

Ferrigo was silent, his hands sweated and curled into fists repeatedly. "What's on the disk?" He had turned his visor toward his daughter.

Khatta lifted her head from the cave wall and growled softly. "Ya know, you talk too much."

Ferrigo lifted his eyebrow, unseen from inside his helmet as he heard his daughter's words. He then whispered. "Put your bucket on, Khatta," lifting his right hand up to indicate quiet down.

Khatta grabbed her helmet slowly and with some difficulty put it on and turned to look at Ferrigo.

...

Labor Union Meetings & Uncertainty of Control
Meetings with the Arcona Mineral Harvest Corporation labor union leadership were mildly positive. Many doubts remained on the future of Prosstang Mining Company in the face of a legal battle in Coruscant waged with TaggeCo Mining for ownership. Tetch Kuporr had come along for the trip to ensure that the Labor DIvision of Prosstang Industries had a firm grasp on any movement on the questions looming ahead. An Arcona representing TaggeCo by the name Rwann Noll arrived soon after Prosstang and Kuporr. ...

A Stowaway with a Secret
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A Treachery Revealed, A Treasure Hidden
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Xossk Prepares Ferrigo Prosstang's Final Act - The Delight of His Nemesis
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The Most Painful Tortures Known
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Something Forgotten, Something Familiar
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Last Rites for a Baron-Chieftain, the Shell of Mandalore the Uniter II
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For Her Mand'alor - The Crucible of Love, Death, Freedom and The Force
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Last Gasps of The Faithful, and The Faithless Recounted to the New Mand'alor
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Plans Carried Out In Secret - A World Inside, A World Apart
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The Fruits of Eternal Love Grow - Young Mothers Together
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The Blessings of Love in The Force - Kostaligo and Aleksaana are Born (19 BBY)
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For Relia - A Daughter and Her Father Close a Dark Chapter (18 BBY)
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