Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.
Star Wars
Episode 2: Mandalorian Servant
Chapter 1: In the Blink
...Four Cycles later...On board the Ao Var
The Ao Var, a battered old Ghtroc 720 arched up and over a rocky outcropping before careening back down to barely skim the surface of the sand once more. Exhaust from the port and starboard engine pods sent up plumes of dust briefly obscuring the half dozen single pilot pursuit craft. Bolts of red energy sprayed from each of the ship's single forward blasters. Despite being a large target the maneuvers of the transport freighter caused more than half of the blasts to fly wide but the rest of them struck stitching pockets across the craft's hull.
The pilot felt the impact all the way forward in the cockpit. Sparks flew from a number of consoles and alarms blared. The freighter was not designed for combat and it was well passed its retirement date, yet Madlyn Kallos, a young Alderanni female, had managed to coax a great many surprises out of the old girl. It was as if she'd been holding out on Madlyn the last eight weeks and was finally showing what her brittle bones were still capable of.
The cabin shook once more. Alarms blared; shields down to 25%. They'd been lucky; Madlyn hadn't thought the ship had any shields at all.
"I know babe," she cooed towards the ship hoping that a little sweet talk will keep her vital systems functioning a bit longer. Next time, if there was to be a 'next time,' she'd drag Tersen Aboleth along with her no matter how much he hated flying. She could sure use the Lannik technician right then and there. Kriff! Slick's basic mechanical know-how would be a godsend at that point. It was physically impossible for her to fly and effect repairs and stars were they in need of repairs.
Madlyn keyed her mic and spoke to her only other passenger, "Jarek we've got a bit of a situation," the ship shook again as she banked left and right, emphasizing her point. "If you'd care to blast the scum on our tale I'm sure the galaxy wouldn't mind."
Back down the corridor towards the cargo hold a man in full battle armor struggled to keep his feet as he made his way toward the freighters one defense turret mounted at the top center of the ship. "Working on it Kallos!" he replied opening a hatch and clambering up the access ladder, "Not like they gave us much warning."
"Last I checked pirates rarely liked to post notices," the part-time smuggler retorted banking again to avoid being hit. Jarek had to regain his footing before pulling himself into the turret seat and strapping in. "I could ask them to reschedule if it's too inconvenient for you."
Jarek gripped the turret controls and swung it into action. With a fully charged power cell, the duel barrels spat red angry death at the pursuers. "No thanks, I'm wearing my good armor." He focused fire on a single craft. "Hate to be all dressed up with nowhere to go." A bolt took out the left aileron and the pursuit craft spun wildly before crashing into a sand dune. The following explosion confirmed the kill.
The remaining ships split up and using their superior speed and numbers moved to surround and intercept the larger ship. "They're moving all around! Can't track them all! Kallos?"
In response, the pilot poured on the speed even as two craft swooped in from the front pouring on the laser fire attempting to take out the cockpit. The shields held and as they flew past Jarek managed to take down one.
"Splash two!" He cried scanning for his next target.
"Still four more out there!" Madlyn called out as she brought the ship into a series of tight turns amidst the dunes.
"I can count!" Jarek spat angrily.
The ship shook violently and Madlyn swore loudly. "Shields are gone!" There was the sound of steam venting and brief acrid burning smell drifting up from below. "Fire in the generator room! Stang it!"
Another pair of the crafts dive-bombed the freighter neatly avoiding Jarek's defensive fire. The laser fire tore holes on the hull plating near Jarek's turret. The Ao Var buckled wildly under the attack as if she'd been gut-punched. Her port engine clipped the top of a dune. The ship jerked violently before reorienting. Once they had settled Jarek was able to return fire. By then the pirates had zipped away to prepare for another attack.
"Jarek what part of blast them didn't understand?" Madlyn shouted even as she fought the controls to keep the craft level. Yet another alarm sounded only adding to the cacophony of the cockpit. The last attack had nicked a stabilizer. Any option for fancy maneuvering was being greatly reduced.
Noticing she didn't get a typical snarky reply Madlyn Kallos keyed her mic again. "Jarek? Jarek did you hear me?" Internal comms must be down. Stang it all. "Jarek please hit something!" she pleaded more for herself than anything. She may have had a pitiful life but wasn't ready to give it all up just yet.
At that exact moment, Jarek was letting rip with both barrels of the turret. His reward? A third pirate craft plummeted in a burning mass of twisted metal. "Ha burn you sha'buir!" he cheered. He was just about to draw a bead on the next pair when the Ao Var suddenly pitched wildly and he was thrown off target.
"Gah!" he shouted angrily "Kallos I can't hit anything if you can't fly better!" No response. Not in the verbal kind anyway. The freighters engines cut out and the reverse stabilizers kicked in. Jarek was slammed back into his chair as the Ao Var nearly flipped up onto its tail end. The sudden drop in speed caused the three remaining pursuit craft to swerve out of the way. By sheer luck, one was caught on one of the Ao Var's exhaust trails and couldn't stabilize quickly enough. The craft pitched and yawed before flipping over and slamming into the sand below. Unfortunately, unlike the first craft, there was no explosion.
Unfortunately moreover, when the craft had moved to avoid the freighter Jarek had gotten a good look into its canopy at the pilot. A very distinctive and very familiar "T" shaped visor much like his own stared back at him.
"Can't be..." he gasped.
Ao Var straightened and Jarek was able to shake off his shock long enough to realize Madlyn's trick flying had placed both remaining ships directly in his sights. Jarek unloaded everything he had left and brought both crafts down in twin plumes of flame, smoke, and debris. Jarek sighed with relief and leaned back in his harness. He had little time to try and figure out how they hadmanaged to track him down before more pressing matters presented themselves. Namely the smoke that was billowing up from the cargo hold and the physical wellbeing of the pilot.
Jarek slid down the ladder and was dismayed to see that the walls and likewise the crates within the cargo hold were dotted with scorched holes. The ionized plasma bolts had gone straight into contents and ignited them. Spice was meant to be burned at low temperatures in small quantities. By the heat signatures his helmet was picking up the Mandalorian had no doubt that more than three-quarters of their payload was destroyed or ruined by the ozone that was the byproduct of the igniting plasma discharge.
With that depressing thought in mind, Jarek made his way to the cockpit. Seated in the pilot's chair and very much alive was Madlyn Kallos. Though he was relieved to see his friend well, Jarek was too dismayed to smile.
The grin on Madlyn's face, despite speckled in grease, and surrounded by a barely functioning ship, said she was extremely pleased with himself. Why shouldn't she have been? Not only had they taken on six smaller faster ships and won but she had made the old 720 do things that the galaxy had never intended it to do. As a pilot that was a serious mark of pride, but as a smuggler, the loss of their payload was another story.
It had been a hard run for the smuggler/con-woman/rogue. First, she had been ejected from Imperial flight school for "Insubordination" (which was a fancy word for 'stole a shuttle for a quick jaunt around the plant when bored one day'). Then her favorite speeder bike was impounded when she fell behind on her payments. Then Madlyn was arrested for grifting on the streets of Aldera, on Alderaan. Then she was transported for hard labor to the spice mines of Kessel, which was apparently some Alderaani noble's way of getting back at Madlyn for something involving said noble's "Pride". Then pirates attacked the transport carrying her to Kessel and Kallos was press-ganged into service. Then an imperial frigate defeated the pirates and Madlyn was arrested. Somehow she managed to get out of that and ended up flying cargo ships for a gentle-being by the name of Teemo the Hutt, which was how she met Jarek.
In some ways, Jarek would describe the eight weeks he'd known the smuggler, compared to the rest of her life as being the most peaceful and boring eight weeks in her existence. In other ways, she and by extension Jarek had been shot at by both pirates and customs officials and had to make many risky landings in remote and dangerous places.
Despite his long life of misfortune, Madlyn still thought herself lucky - and perhaps in her own way she was.
When Jarek removed his helmet and Madlyn saw the expression on his face his smile fell away. Her face only grew grimmer when Jarek explained the loss of the cargo and especially who exactly their pursuers had been and why they'd been so determined to kill them.
"Well...stang."
Pursuit Craft Crash Site.
The man grunted and groaned as he pulled himself from the wreckage of his speeder. The armor, scratched and scorched, had taken the brunt of the impact but a number of sore joints and potential bruises reminded him he was not a young man anymore. Still, he had a mission to do. Bringing up his heads-up display he attempted to contact with the other five members of his team. No response and all their life form readings showed red.
He sighed. "Val akaanir par gar," he whispered before straightening and activating his long-range commlink.
"Overwatch, this is Watcher01, come in." His helmets short range system was barely powerful enough to reach his ship in Mos Eisley and from their get redirected to the other Watcher team. His Commlink clicked and he had to strain to hear the response, but it was intermittent at best. "I found Jarek. Sighted on Tatooine headed towards Mos Shuuta." There was static and he heard a broken reply, but it was enough to make out a response.
"If we are to get him, it should be now!" a raspy voice hissed over the commlink. The warrior agreed. Their prey was alone save for that reckless pilot in an area of space that was not known to be friendly to those with bounties on their heads, but still, the Warrior knew he was in no shape to take on the younger Mandalorian. Jarek had eluded him for almost four cycles now but he wouldn't let his pride be the thing that allowed the hunt to end before it began.
"Udesii ner vode," the warrior said hoping to calm his compatriot, "It is the patient hunter who gets his prey." He heard the reply 'been patient long enough' but didn't rise to the bait, "I'm heading to Mos Shuuta I'll call for reinforcements if I must once there. Until then standby."
He heard his fellow Watcher growl in frustration but acquiesced to the older warrior's greater experience despite being superior in rank. "We'll await your call, ori'vod. Just save some of the aruetyc chakkar's mangled corpse for me." With that, the line was terminated.
The Watcher sighed before gathering what supplies he could from the ship and began the long walk to Mos Shuuta. He doubted Jarek would stay there long. If he knew his former...protégé then upon realizing his cover had been blown he'd clear out as soon as possible.
Unlike him though, Jarek had gotten sloppy while on the lamb. The fool had even kept the same name. Sure he'd been effective at not leaving a clear trail but he'd always left witnesses. Like all beings, these former acquaintances had been easily motivated by credits and threats to reveal anything they knew of the one known as Jarek Orion. Now the Death Watch had caught up to him on Tatooine, but he hadn't expected the skill of the freighter pilot and that oversight had cost him his team of Watchers.
"Jarek your atonement will come," he breathed as he made his way across the dunes towards his destination, "I will guarantee that."
Whomp Rats Den, Mos Shuuta settlement
"The Whomp Rats Den" That was a charming and attractive name for a cantina if Jarek ever heard one. The indigenous rodents were pervasive across the lifeless rock and even making their way into the various settlements. The moisture farmers killed them to prevent them from damaging the vaporators. The Tuskin Raiders killed them for food. Many more residents killed them for sport, and yet they continued to thrive.
In a mild epiphany, Jarek wondered if perhaps that was the reason behind the name. Despite the heat, the Imperial occupation, the rival gangs, and all the rest of the ugliness of the galaxy, the cantina endured. The owners varied in survivability but the cantina and its name remained.
Jarek knew all this of course. He'd frequented the establishment enough with Madlyn. Being the only cantina in town it was the only place to get a decent drink after a horrible day of working for Teemo. He had dragged Kallos' unconscious form out of there on more than one occasion.
Good times.
It was easy to land on Tatooine, but once stuck it takes a heroic feat to get off. Villains of all stripes come to this desert believing they can hide from their enemies. Thus, bounty hunters are never at a loss for jobs and many have made their names here such as Jarek himself and Madlyn's boyfriend Slick.
Sheer distance from the core has not lessoned Tatooine's role in Galactic history. Situated on the Triellus Trade Route near Geonosis, Tatooine's proximity to the Corellian Run poses it as a lucrative side jump for hardy traders. While the planet has never been the center of events it always seems to maintain a certain disreputable prominence in the affairs of the Outer Rim.
During its reign, the Empire has installed a number of governors to watch over the lawless world and most do just that - watch. The Hutts are the true masters of Tatooine with Jabba as their head. The vast number of miscreants in the population makes Tatooine a treasure trove of rumors and secrets.
The dingy pitted door slid open at their approach and closed just as soon as they crossed the threshold to keep what modicum of cool air existed inside the structure. As always, or rather as befitting any cantina, the heads of every occupant turned towards the new arrivals. Leary eyes cautiously scanned over his armored body from the ironclad boots to the dual blaster pistols on each thigh to the distinctive "T" shaped visor of his helmet. Though most didn't know him personally, a fact he strove for daily, many recognized the style of armor. Very few outsides of the elite warrior class of Mandalore wore such garb. That reputation alone was enough for most to give him a wide birth.
Madlyn on the other hand barely earned a cursory glance despite being a rather attractive dark skinned woman. She wore a well-used racing coat over equally well-worn pilot gear and a blaster pistol on her hip. With her unkempt hair in a messy knot, she looked like she was born into the back alleys of the Outer Rim.
Jarek and Madlyn stepped down a short flight of stairs into the cantina's shadowy common room. Even though Jarek's suit regulated his temperature, it had trouble coping with the extreme heat of Tatooine's twin suns. As the cool air slipped between the plates of his armor and beneath his helmet he felt a sense of relief. The nature of his job left him few comforts, so Jarek was quick to enjoy these small moments whenever he could.
The Deveronian bartender paused in his chores to stare at them, his devilish features going for intimidating but ending up just short of an ugly sneer. He must've remembered what happened to the last bartender who squared up to the mercenary because he had the good sense to look away and go about his business.
The cantina was in a typical layout. On a stage against the far wall, a Twi'lek danced to prerecorded music. Private booths line the walls, and the main floor was scattered with tables and chairs, a third of which were occupied by the regulars who sought an early buzz during the hottest part of the day. The patrons have since returned their attention from the new arrivals back towards the dancer or their drinks.
By reflex, Jarek noted the only exits from the room were what looked like a storage closet behind the bar and another leading backstage to what he assumed was a dressing room. Thick heavy struts supported the arched roof above him.
They took their customary seats at the bar which was the least crowded place in the cantina and each ordered a drink. They'd landed not long ago with what remained of the Ao Var. The loss of the spice was bad enough, but when Teemo's Technician, Tersen Aboleth, had given the ship the once over his prognosis had been enough to send Madlyn's normally cheery personality into a depressed spiral.
They had been expected to report directly to Teemo but were intercepted by the waiting arms of the Womp Rat's Den for the desired respite. They'd need the buzz just to overcome the awaiting rant the Slug was sure to have prepared along with the running tally of how much credits this job would cost them. Might as well enjoy a drink first.
The Deveronian brought them their drinks and the two friends gave each other a halfhearted toast. Jarek having removed his helmet to enjoy the yeasty smell of the cantina and the various stilling scents behind the bar downed the shot.
Jarek would actually miss that smell. He'd miss Kallos as well and maybe even one or two of the other locals in Teemo's employ. He wouldn't miss the slug or the heat of the twin suns, but that was little consolation to be leaving behind friends, but it was the nature of his life.
Kalevala: Four Cycles earlier:
"Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor—An vencuyan mhi." The elder Mandalorian, Ja'Hailir as he was known, chanted as he sat before the assembled youths who all knelt in three ranks. Since arriving their collective armor had been taken and were given identical light blue fatigues. There had been no complaints or resistance. Only disciplined compliance. Now they sat before the man that would lead them through the Verd'Goten and help them become part of something more. Not just part of the clan as Jarek had thought but also a part of the Kyr'tsad. Whatever the goal, Jarek would prove himself worthy...for his father. He focused harder on Ja'Hailir's words.
"Wherever you are..." he said in a raspy tone that belayed the power that lay beneath, "...Wherever you may go...you must never forget who you are...how you came to be." Jarek felt his gaze rest on him and he fought the urge to look away. The man had the ability to make it seem like he was staring directly into his soul. "You are Mando'ade. You are Kyr'tsad. You are a part of me...as I am apart of you. This is the truth of your lives...and it will remain true after death." He gestured to the group. "Among you are fatherless and motherless children. Some who have hunted. Some who have killed." His gaze centered on Jarek briefly once more before scanning the group. "No matter. You will treat each other as vode, as brothers and sisters. You are all family now."
Mos Shuuta: Present:
Jarek had gotten comfortable here, but now his past had caught up with him. He would now have to move on. To further lose himself he would probably change his name as well. Bitterly he thought he should've assumed a fake identity cycles ago, but he'd been too prideful to give up his name. The name his father had given him.
That failure in judgment now proved his undoing. He would flee and not take any further chances.
When he finally gave voice to what was on his mind, after another round of drinks, Madlyn stared at him in surprise. "What do you mean you've got to leave?"
Jarek silenced her earning a brief look from the bartender. At a glare from the Mandalorian, he went back to cleaning and stacking glasses. "I mean," Jarek said in a low tone, "those nerfs who attacked us?"
"Yeah."
"They want my head and more of them will be on their way soon. I can't stay here." Stang, he hated doing this. He hated saying goodbye to being who'd become the closest friend he'd had in a very long time. It felt wrong going back out into the galaxy by himself...but then again maybe he didn't have to do it alone... "And you can come with me."
This caused Madlyn to guffaw as she poured herself another glass of Tharaxian brandy. "Can I finish my drink first oh Captain of mine," she replied sarcastically attempting to get a laugh out of Jarek but only succeeded in irritating his friend.
"I'm serious Kallos," Jarek said nudging the Alderanni to emphasize his next words, "I'm leaving and I want you to go with me."
Madlyn snorted again downing her drink and pouring another. "Leave on what? Unless you got a starship hidden up an orifice I don't know about, you can't exactly leave the planet on hopes and good wishes."
Jarek's short temper snapped a bit and he balled a fist before launching it towards the side of Madlyn's head. The two had gotten into a few drunken brawls before; as much with other patrons as with each other. Mainly over who'd cover the tab or a game of sabaac. The aggravation never lasted past the door though. Life was too short for that.
Fortunately for Madlyn and a little to both human's surprise another hand intercepted the punch within inches of the smuggler's temple. The owner of said hand was a tall wry blue-skinned Pantoran male with messy dark hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a long coat, a bandolier of ammo, and a blaster rifle slung across his back.
"Whew that was a close one," he heard Kallos sigh shakily. Jarek looked over at an obviously relieved Madlyn. "Was worried I'd have to stop you."
Jarek arched an amused eyebrow at her. "You stop me?"
"Do play nice children," the new arrival cooed, releasing Jarek's fist, his educated accent at odds with his ragged hunting garb. While his tone was flirty there was no mistaking the ice that flowed beneath it.
"Slick," Jarek grumbled and watched as the bounty hunter stepped around Jarek and stood next to Madlyn.
As long as Jarek had known him, which was only a little longer then Kallos, he'd learned that Sliq'gar'husdo, or Slick, had always been quick and clever. He had also been lucky enough to avoid the press gangs and slavers of the Outer Rim. Jarek didn't know how he'd ended up as a bounty hunter working for Teemo. What he did know was that he'd thrived under the tutelage of a veteran hunter named Gyax, a respected name in their trade. They'd co-opted a few hunts together and his prowess had earned his respect.
In very short order after meeting Slick and Madlyn had gotten on like a house on fire. She loved his tough as rugged leather attitude and he apparently adored her charm and sarcasm. It was enough to make Jarek gag at times. Their relationship may have been another reason Teemo hadn't canned the smuggler earlier in her career. It didn't do well to upset one of his best bounty hunters.
"Don't go punching our girl please," he added sweetly, "Damage the little baby face here and we could have a blind pilot."
Madlyn lifted a glass at him and smirked, "don't count out the blindness just yet, love." She downed the glass and sighed before adding, "Hard to be a pilot without a ship."
He laid a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I heard about that, dear."
"News travels quickly 'round here," Jarek grumbled.
Slick nodded before looking back at Madlyn. "Buy you a drink to ease your woes?"
"No," Madlyn groaned causing the Pantoran to arch an eyebrow, "buy me two. I really liked that old junker." Slick smiled and nodded. He gestured to the Deveronian who brought the drinks. Halfway raising her glass Madlyn lowered it back to the table surface, her expression going from depressed to this side of cocky. "So I take it you're not here to enjoy my company?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not my dear," Slick replied in a lower tone.
The smuggler nodded towards the stage. "Or here to take in the luxuries of Mos Shuuta or the fine cuisine of this lovely establishment."
"Did every word have to drip with sarcasm with this girl?" Jarek thought, shaking his head slowly. He then looked a question at Slick who replied, "Nope."
"Here on business then," Madlyn seemed to sigh, "That's disappointing."
"You're telling me," Slick also sighed before finally took the offered seat. He rested both arms on the table which seemed to help Madlyn relax a bit. "Teemo ordered me to bring you in."
Madlyn leaned back and grumbled before scratching at a grease burn on her chin. "Well, stang. He really that bent out of shape over that last freighter crash?"
Slick nodded again. "That and the last two."
Kallos shrugged. "I can't help getting shot down. What does he expect running Spice in underpowered freighters with no weapons and practically no shields? I mean," she gestured grandly towards himself, "I'm good, but I'm not that good."
At that Jarek chuckled darkly, "I've seen you make those 720's practically sing and dance."
"And yet I still can't stop a spray of turbo lasers with just my charming smile," she snapped back, pointing out her next observation. "And why is he complaining? I actually saved the Spice on the first two shipments."
Jarek nodded but interrupted just the same. "The profits of which had to go towards buying more spice and repairing the ship."
"Pfft...Cheap hunks of junk, all of them," she waved dismissively before smiling and sighing wistfully. "What I wouldn't give to fly one of those top-of-the-line Corellian freighters, or better yet a classic Naboo star yacht." Closing her eyes Madlyn tilting her head back, "Oh spirits the sweet smuggling music I could make with one of those."
Jarek grumbled at his friends wondering thoughts before looking around at the bounty hunter. "Is the ship really as bad as we left it?"
"No," he sighed and looked down at the counter, "It's worse. Tersen says it's only good for scrap at this point." He placed another hand on Madlyn's shoulder, "I'm sorry Maddy."
The Alderannian just sank her head lower to the table and groaned in frustration. "First I lose my speeder bike, now I'm in debt to a Hutt."
"But you didn't destroy your ship," Slick tried to console her. His gushiness nearly made Jarek gag, "The pirates did."
Jarek sighed and took another drink before correcting her, "It wasn't pirates who shot us up."
"Not pirates?" Slick looked questionably between the two of them, "Then who?"
Madlyn craned her head enough to eye Jarek and with a wave of a finger said, "Go ahead and tell him."
"Later," Jarek assured him, "but for now let's just say we need to get off-world as soon as possible."
Slick looked at him like he was crazy. "You want to try and skip out on Teemo?"
Jarek nodded, "That slug needs to learn it's bad for business to shake down his own crew and Teemo has a bad habit of getting his credits worth one way or another." Jarek looked over at Kallos, waiting for a response only to see her holding up another finger to the bartender. Jarek sighed and looked over at Slick who nodded. Jarek then smacked Kallos...hard snapping her out of his fugue.
"You're the pilot!" Jarek hissed causing his friend to blink in surprise, "If you're drunk then our chances of getting out of this mess are osik!" Slick took her remaining drink and downed it himself. Changing the subject to something a little less anarchist, Jarek asked, "So did you find what you were looking for on Ryloth?"
This caused Slick's spine to straighten and he seemed to take a moment to gather himself before speaking. "After a fashion," he placed the empty glass down and when next he looked at them there was an angry look in her eyes, "I went to follow up on a lead on one of Teemo's bounties." He clenched a fist and slammed it on the counter causing them both to jump, "But what I found is that that slime licking Hutt is trying to muscle in on the Ryll mining operations there."
Madlyn shuddered, "The Empire had already strip-mined half the planet. You add the Hutts to that..."
"It's going to get ugly fast," finished Jarek sympathizing with the Pantoran's plight and that of his people. Though he wasn't a Twi'lek, Slick had spent a lot of time amongst them. Enough to develop strong sympathizes for the crappy hand the galaxy had dealt them. Multiple medical companies used Ryll in the manufacturing of certain medicines and thus in very high demand. It was also used to enhance various narcotics but up until that point the Hutts had little interest, preferring the more lucrative spice. It seemed that had changed.
Slick sighed, "The Ryll Corporations are corrupt, but they hire only local workers, and after the Clone Wars they're the only thing holding Ryloth's economy together." He sighed again and after a long silence he asked, "So...What're you going to do about your debt?"
"What are going to do about Teemo and the Ryll Mining Corporations?" Jarek asked.
Slick scowled at him, "Jarek stop redirecting."
Jarek smirked back, "I don't want to hear it. You redirected first. Why should I stop?"
Slick was on the verge of retorting when Madlyn sat up and pushed them apart. "Would you both stop? Drinks now! Slimy Hutt talk later!"
The bartender somehow taking that as his cue to start pouring drinks was directed away by Slick. "No Maddy. Sooner rather than later you're going to have to confront Teemo." He tilted his head and touched his commlink. After a second Slick looked back up them saying, "Sooner it seems. I just got word that Teemo wants you now."
"Well took him long enough," Madlyn snorted before sneaking another drink.
"Well, Slick," Jarek stated flatly, "that about sums it up. I feel that perhaps our employment with Teemo has reached its end. Right?"
He had sensed that Jarek was including him in that statement and replied accordingly, "No, I'm contracted to Teemo by Ryll Corp. I break that contract my sis-I'm as good as dead."
"He's acting against Ryloth's best interests," Jarek argues, "The way I see it that effectively nullifies your agreement to that scum. You could be good as dead if you don't break the contract."
Slick sat still and silent for a moment. When he stands he tosses a few credits on the counter effectively covering their tab. Looking at them both he says in a low tone, "I never saw you. That should buy you another thirty minutes or so." He took a second to look at them both, "Jarek, please keep her alive until I can figure a way out of this mess." The Mandalorian nodded to him. He gave Madlyn the briefest of kisses before leaving.
Jarek couldn't help but smirk at the smuggler's stunned expression before asking, "Well what do you want to do?"
Madlyn blinked and looked back towards the bar. "Eventually...settle out debt with the Hutt, but first," she held up two fingers, "Bartender another round." Jarek dropped his head into his hands and groaned in annoyance.