Lonely and plaintive the nameless bird's cry hung over the open valley. A profound silence answered it. A ghostly line of smoke drifted skyward from an isolated homestead, and silver waves whispered across the tall prairie grass.
A single, emaciated looking equinoid – called warla by the locals – carried two riders through the sea of grass. It had come with the dawn out of the forest at the foot of the western mountain range. The riders followed a trail across the prairie, a dark track left by several smaller and one broader vehicle.
The trail led past the homestead. Like most settlements on the Mandalorian colony world of Concord Dawn, the homestead consisted of several unadorned buildings constructed of prefabricated duracrete. On the fenced off pastured around the homestead grazed several bordocks, a species of cattle-like creatures valued by Concordians both for their labor and their meat.
The two riders approached the homestead from the South. Their eyes moved constantly over the buildings and the few skinny trees and skeletal farm machines, while their hands never strayed far from the stocks of their weapons. The taller of the two wore the armor, helmet, and half-cape of a Journeyman Protector, one of the legendary lawmen of Concord Dawn. The second rider, sitting behind the first, was dressed plainly, not unlike the pilgrims on the road to the Temple of Contention, with the hood of a travelling cloak drawn deep into his face.
"Aside from the hogs in the pen, I sense only one living soul, in the main building," the hooded rider said quietly to the protector as they drew closer. The Mandalorian helmet with the infamous T-visor hid the Protector's expression, but his answering grunt was curt and sounded impatient. He spurred the warla to greater hurry.
"Curith?" the Protector called out when they arrived at the front gate of the homestead. "Kayska?"
Like the bird's, his calls were answered by silence.
"Not even the dog," he muttered.
"I told you, there only the hogs and…"
"I heard you."
"Well?"
But before the Protector could answer, the door of the main building opened. The woman wore a shawl over a simple dress and muddy boots on her naked feet. Her long, dark hair hung into her face, not quite hiding red rimmed eyes.
"Su cuy'gar, Kayska." The Protector was off his steed, hurrying across the yard.
"Su'cuy, Chadth," she answered in a weak voice. Then she nodded to the companion still on the warla: "Warp."
The companion nodded back.
"You're too late," Kayska continued. "They left a few hours ago, at daybreak."
"What about your husband and daughter," Chadth Fairud, as the Journeyman Protector was known in the valley, asked.
"Hunting. A gornak bear killed three of our bordocks two nights ago. We followed it for a half a day across the plains. At the edge of the forest Curith and Shu continued. I returned."
Fairud relaxed. He took off his helmet.
"It is good to know they are okay."
Fairud was odd to look at. Although human, his ears were slightly pointed, and his eyes mismatched – one a warm brown, the other the cool, cloudy blue of the sky on a hazy winter's day. A large scar across his face gave his lips a perpetual sneer. And yet, overall the impression was not that of an ogrish monster, but instead conveyed calm and trust.
"The dog?" Fairud's companion asked. His name was Warpoc Skamini, but to the people of the valley he was mostly known as Warp. He did not remove his hood.
"Shot it. First thing they did. They laughed." Her eyes were hard. "I buried it an hour ago."
She looked from Warp to Fairud and back to the warla. "What happened to your animal, Warp?"
"The outlaws left a space freighter wreck booby-trapped, up by the ruins of the Temple of Arasuum. The animal stepped across a laser trigger."
"Kayska, tell me what happened here," Fairud said.
"They arrived after nightfall. Four ruffians, all of them off-worlders, and their leader, a Zabrak. They killed the dog, then demanded food, drink, and… shelter."
"Can you describe them?"
"Two Nikto, a Rodian, and a…" She faltered and with a dirty hand wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes. The smudge she left on her pale cheek gave her face the appearance of a skull.
"A Bothan. They called him Prince."
Warp gazed away from Kayska, as if to give her privacy, and stared into the damp morning air, where the trail left by the five marauders faded into the haze.
"What about their leader," Fairud asked.
"His skin and horns are completely black, like ink. Only his eyes are orange, like coals smoldering in a dead fireplace."
"Did he have a name?"
"His men called him Qroe."
Fairud took a step backwards. He turned from the woman and like Warp looked past the buildings and across the fence towards the north.
The sky was pale, and cold.