"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step . . ." K'ung Fu Tzu
The harsh dry Deralian winds had picked up again, fanning the flames of the gigantic pyre that smoldered at the center of the ruined colony. Thick black smoked billowed in every direction filling the sky, turning both Deralian suns a blazing blood-red. There was also the smell, the unmistakable smell of charred and rotting flesh.
Canderous Ordo breathed in the air. The smell of death, he thought to himself. But also the smell of victory. The Ordo clan had again helped win yet another victory for the Mandalorians. And this time it was against a worthy adversary: the Deralians. Originally Deralia was chosen for its strategic spot as a branching point for several less traveled hyperspace lanes all of which spanned out into the Outer Rim regions. The colony there was small; it consisted of a single settlement with a diminutive population numbering in the mere thousands. Yet despite their sparse numbers and more primitive weaponry, the colonists fought valiantly against the overwhelming hordes of Mandalorians. Mandalore anticipated that the planet would be subdued in a matter of hours, yet using some unusual battle tactics the Deralian warriors held off their invaders for a standard month.
Both baffled and delighted with the Deralians' tenacity, and knowing that eventually the sheer numbers of his clans would break through their defenses, Mandalore had offered them favorable terms of surrender. But their warriors vehemently refused, leaving him with no choice but to slaughter them. However, in the face of impossible odds they did not retreat to cower behind their women and children like other humans had done. In the end their deaths were not entirely in vain: in losing everything the Deralians had won the respect of the Mandalorians, which made the eventual discovery of the ruined settlement more difficult to understand.
Mandalore dealt very practically with people he conquered: once the men were completely slaughtered, the women and children would be taken prisoners. The captives were then divided up among the clans: children were taken and raised as Mandalorians, women were paired up with Mandalorian warriors and any offspring would also be taken and raised as future warriors. With every conquest, the new additions to every clan more than made up for any casualties endured. That was their way of life. The Mandalore warriors lived for battle, for life itself is a battle; an endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth.
But the Deralians refused to be conquered. Upon entering the settlement, the Mandalorians were stunned. The degree of fierceness the Deralian men had shown in battle paled to the fanaticism of their women. Determined not to succumb to captivity, the women had destroyed their own settlement. They burned their homes and poisoned their drinking water. And it did not stop there: every single woman had committed suicide. Some died by a single blaster-shot to the head or a vibro-blade to the heart, others by drowning or poison, and some had simply jumped off the high cliffs that surrounded the colony. The massacre was not confined to the adults alone, for mothers had purposefully slaughtered their own children rather than having them face the bleak prospect of capture.
To Mandalore and his warriors, suicide was the ultimate abomination. It went against everything the Mandalorians believed about life. The whole situation hit Canderous especially hard—for the barren Deralian landscape reminded him of his home world with its parched valleys, deep canyons and dusty plateaus. That thought immediately brought up feelings of his wife and their two children, safe and comfortable back with the rest of the Ordo clan. There were so many children, many of them the same age as his, strewn lifeless on the ground. There just seemed to be no point to it, which made him so angry he kicked a small stone lying next to his foot and sent it flying. What a waste, he thought as his stomach threatened to rebel. What a terrible awful waste. He scowled and gritted his teeth behind his helmet cursing just beneath his breath as he and the rest of the warriors continued to search the perimeter for possible survivors.
The more the Mandalorian warriors searched the settlement, the more obvious it was that there was no one left alive. Mandalore himself, puzzled by the tragic turn his most recent conquest had taken, had given the order all the remains to be recovered and burned. "This should be taken as an omen," the battle hardened warrior said quietly.
Although some of his advisors were inclined to disagree they did not protest. Ever since the Sith War and his dealings with Ulic Qel Droma and Exar Kun, Mandalore had grown more cautious in the way he interpreted events. Some clan members quietly whispered that he had grown more superstitious and that the Sith and the Jedi had somehow weakened his resolve. Still others said that Mandalore still had dealings with the Sith. In reality, the Mandalore that allied with the Sith twenty years ago and the Mandalore who now led the clans were not the same person. It was the strange creatures on the Dxun Moon that ultimately killed Mandalore. Had it been by simple chance that he had found the old Mandalore's armor and helmet, and assumed his identity? No, it was the Force. The turn of the events that brought about and ended the Sith War ultimately brought about his own rise to power. And the more he thought about this, the more he feared the Force for no matter how bravely he and his clans fought in battle or how strong he thought himself to be, the Force to him was this great big ominous thing that could somehow ruin the most carefully thought out strategy. And knowing that there was something completely untouchable that transcended his perception caused him to look at the universe much more closely. Deep down, Mandalore began to think that everything that he was doing had resounding implications beyond his own ability to reason which was why he began believing in omens and curses. "I want all the remains gathered and burned as soon as possible!" he ordered. "We leave as soon as it is done, we will not settle this planet," he said as he climbed the back of his warmount and returned to his ship accompanied by several of his more trusted warriors.
Twelve hours and seven-hundred and forty-two corpses later, Canderous and fellow warriors still had not finished with their gruesome task. The death was starting to wear away at him, and the only thing that made his task easier was an apparent custom among the locals to cover their faces. This shielded him from staring constantly into blank unreadable faces of the dead people he carried, but it did not keep his pride from turning into rather obvious disgust. Casting a final carcass on the now hill-sized pyre he resolved to take a walk to clear his nostrils of the rancorous stench that pervaded the center of the settlement.
A gust of evening wind blew with a soft mournful howl that resembled a muffled mewing noise. He dismissed it as he paced towards the far edge of the village, the gravel making a constant crushing noise under the weight of his heavy combat boots. Coming to the edge of the plateau he stopped within a few centimeters short of a precipice that plummeted forty-five meters down. Behind him he heard the sound of footsteps coming his way. They belonged to another clan member. He turned his head and nodded in a primordial gesture of recognition.
"Careful," the other Mandalore warrior warned as he eyed the edge of cliff uneasily through the low-light vision of his helmet visor. "It's a very long way down."
Another gust of wind blew with the same pitiful noise.
"Did you hear that?" Canderous asked his companion.
"It's just the wind," the other said dismissively.
The noise repeated itself again, but there was no wind this time.
"There it is again!" he exclaimed.
"Yes. I hear it too now."
"That's not the wind," Canderous said decisively as he gazed down into the chasm. "It's coming from down there." Through the greenish tint of the low-light setting of his helmet visor the Mandalorian could make out a few corpses that were scattered against the jagged rocks. Some were entirely dismembered and dashed to pieces against the sharp stones. So little did they resemble a living being that they looked more like broken dolls an angry child had scattered in the heat of tantrum.
"I'm going down there to have a look," he declared as he checked to straps of his jetpack to make sure everything was in order
"Okay," the his companion said. "But you know the drill; signal if you need any help."
"I will," Canderous said as he activated the ignition switch of his jetpack. A blaze of orange exhaust lighted the vicinity has he lifted off the ground. After bringing himself over the edge of the cliff, he began lowering, carefully keeping his hands on the controls and easing himself into a slow and steady decent.
Whatever was making the noise definitely had been startled by the commotion. By the time the Mandalorian had reached the bottom of the cliff, the sound became twice as loud.
Within a few centimeters of the ground Canderous shut off his jet-pack entirely. The gravel made a crunching sound as his feet settled onto the floor of the basin. Eyeing his surroundings, he again saw bodies of women and children everywhere. It was pretty obvious how this group had died.
The noise was much clearer now with a "mew-mew" sound that resembled a wounded kitten. It came from the direction of small pile of bodies just a few meters away from him. Canderous adjusted the light spectrum of his helmet visor to infrared and saw the clear glowing signature of a living being on top of the pile. Immediately readjusting his visor back to its low-light setting, the Mandalorian darted towards the direction of the pile.
The "mew-mew" had now become a clear and distinct "Mama!" It was the unmistakable cry of any terrified child screaming for its mother.
Moving several bodies out of the way, Canderous came across what-appeared to be an injured Deralian toddler with the distinct female facial covering. She was in a fetal position clinging to a body that had to be her dead mother. Either because of the dark or because she was too consumed with grief, she did not appear to notice the large armored warrior that hovered over her until he reached over and grabbed her.
The child let out an ear-piercing shriek as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
"Hold on now," he said. "Stay still! I'm not going to hurt you."
But the child did not seem to listen or care, she kicked and fussed like an angry kitten.
Canderous sighed in frustration. This just isn't going to work. If the child was going to be this uncooperative it would be impossible to fly back up to the plateau. As he thought this his helmet communicator came on: "Canderous?" the other Mandalorian said on the line. "What's going on down there? I just picked up a lot of noise. You in trouble?"
"Neah," Canderous said as he let go of the child, who immediately ran and hid herself behind a rock. "I found a survivor—a small child."
"That's a change," the other replied. "Bring him up."
"I can't," Canderous answered. "She won't sit still."
"Then shoot her."
"Yeah," the Mandalorian said as he adjusted his blaster to its lowest setting. "I think I will."
The child did not appear to understand the Mandalorian language, it did not take her very long to figure out what the large barrel of a blaster pointed at her meant. There was no where to run or hide, in the end she simply laid there bracing herself for the inevitable.
Smart kid. Canderous mused as he squeezed the trigger.
Two days later, Mandalore held a conference aboard his ship with all the clan leaders, in which he presented his strategy. A holo-map of the known galaxy glowed in the middle of the chamber.
"This is the galaxy as it is now," Mandalore said as he clicked on the remote pad by his seat. "The red dots are Republic systems." As he said this, a large cluster of red dots concentrated in the center of the galaxy lit up. "The blue are colonies that are part of the expansion regions, still economically tied to the Republic but without representation in the Senate." A semi-circle of blue dots lit up surrounding the cluster of red dots. "The green indicates everything else outside our own control, this includes Hutt Space and much of the Outer Rim." A scattered shower of green swirled around the red and blue. "Finally, the yellow shows our worlds which are mostly in what the Republic refers to as the 'Unknown Regions.' As you can all see there, the most recent incursions we have made have cut decisively into the Outer Rim areas." A significant cluster of yellow then lit up on one side of the map with the single wedge stabbing through the green. "Now," Mandalore said as he pressed another button on the control panel. "Compare this to the galaxy approximately twenty years ago." With that second map lit up parallel to the first map, each colored region was smaller but the yellow was less than half of what it was in the other map.
"We've almost tripled our territory!" one of the taller more prominent warriors exclaimed.
"You are correct, Cassus," Mandalore continued. "As far as conquered territory goes, we have completely outpaced the Republic."
Cassus Fett smiled. "That's because the Republic is pitifully too large for its own good. It takes the Republic weeks, sometimes months, to reach its more remote systems."
"Which is why I have called this meeting," Mandalore continued. "I know that some of the younger warriors here don't remember the Sith War, although there are many of us who do. I remember walking streets of Coruscant. I remember seeing the Republic officials fleeing in fear as we stormed the Senate building. The only opposition the Republic had to offer came from the Jedi, and they fought respectfully. Ask any child about the Sith War and they will mention Exar Kun, Ulic Qel Droma, and Aleema of Krath, but few remember the Mandalorians. Yet the Sith could not have overrun Coruscant without us. The Sith stood back and let us do most of the fighting. And what happened when we had brought the Republic to its knees? Did we finish what was begun? Of course we didn't. Why? Because the Sith themselves turned on one another. Aleema gave the order to retreat when we were winning. She betrayed Ulic, and then Ulic betrayed Kun. Yet somehow they are remembered. We are a mere afterthought."
"Yes, Mandalore," Cassus added. "But we have avenged our loss of Coruscant. We have conquered and even obliterated worlds that allied with the Jedi against us."
"Have we?" Mandalore questioned rhetorically. "All of the advances we have made have been worlds outside the Republic. Which brings me back to my original message: it's time. It's time we take back what we lost because of the Sith. It's time we launch our own assault on the Republic. The prophesied Great Battle is at hand. The momentum we've gained by conquests on the Outer Rim has been geared towards this one goal. The Republic is weak because it has far too many systems such that they can all be defended at the same time." As he said this, the first map began to zoom in to one specific sector of the galaxy. "The Republic is so spread out that its military can only fortify only a few key locations. A few of these are in the Expansion Regions, another handful lie in the Inner Rim, more lie in the Colonies, and finally the Core Worlds where the vast majority of its forces are concentrated."
As Mandalore spoke several ribbons of purple light began crossing the galactic map.
"I'm now indicating the major hyperspace routes linking the Republic," the warrior said. "Our first major target shall be Taris, then Onderon. Onderon is a good staging position because it is close to three of the major hyperspace routes."
"But, Mandalore," another Mandalorian chimed in. "Onderon is heavily guarded. Given the current state of our clans, we are in no condition to expand all the way to Onderon."
"Onderon will be the first step against the Republic. We conquer Onderon and that will jeopardize trade along both the Permillian Trade route and the Whitebeam Run. Block those routes and it will only be a matter of time until the Colonies surrender. All of our efforts must be concentrated towards Onderon," Mandalore responded. "Since we now have Deralia, we can attack the Ardilo Sytem. From there, we will have access to several systems along the Permellian Trade route and then Althir. Once Althir is taken, with their resources we can launch an assault on Cathar. From there, the first Republic world to be taken will be Onderon, since we already have a base of operations on the Dxun Moon. Once Onderon is taken the Inner Rim is sure to fall. From there, we will control the major access points into the Galactic Core. All we have to do is continue expanding at the rate we have been going."
"This will be accomplished, Mandalore," Caldar, Canderous' father and leader of the Ordo clan added.
"Then our plans are clear," Mandalore said. "Once we have resupplied and repaired the damage we have incurred from the Deralians, which should take several days, we will set out for Ardilo. We should arrive at Ardilo in about a week. You are all dismissed."
The massive group of warriors began shuffling out of the room. As this happened, Mandalore stopped Caldar of the Ordo clan. "I've come to understand that Canderous picked up a survivor the other day."
"Yes, Mandalore," Caldar said. "He found a small human child amidst the remains of the colonists about two years of age.
Mandalore was curious. "That's encouraging news. Despite the numbers, the Deralians were respectable warriors, it is only fitting that this child should be inducted into the clans and be raised as a warrior." Finally something positive came out of the Deralian encounter.
"I'm afraid that will be most difficult," Caldar said.
"How so?"
"The child is female and we've been having a hell of a time trying to get it to eat anything or shut up for that matter."
Mandalore paused for a second. "I wish to see it."
"Very well," Caldar said. "But don't say I didn't warn you." He turned to his son. "Canderous?"
"Yeah?" his son looked up.
"Mandalore wants to see what you brought home."
Canderous grimaced under his Mandalorian armor. "Okay," he said to Mandalore. He shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room. He returned not fifteen minutes later carrying a wriggling bundle of rags which he placed on the floor.
The three Mandalorians could not really tell when the child made more noise, when on the floor or when being carried. Either way, for the most part it seemed hysterical.
"Why is it covering its face like that?" Mandalore asked quizzically.
"It seems to be some kind of local custom," Canderous said.
"And it hasn't been eating?" Mandalore asked.
"No," said Caldar. "It kept me and several of my warriors up all night crying and screaming."
"What about taking it back to your planet, Canderous, and letting your woman look after it?" Mandalore asked.
"Please," Canderous said. "I already have two daughters, I don't need a third."
"Hmm," Mandalore thought. "Well it can't stay here."
"Why don't we just save ourselves the trouble and just shoot it?" asked another Mandalorian.
Mandalore gazed at the warrior who had rudely interrupted the conversation. "Why don't you just mind your orders?"
"Yes Mandalore," said the warrior as he left the assembly room.
"Canderous, you'll be heading back to Ordo to get supplies and munitions for the assault on Adirlo," Mandalore said "You can take the child with you and leave it on one of the populated systems nearby. From then on it'll be someone else's problem."
Canderous stared down at the noisy toddler. As a warrior he could care less what would happen to the troublesome, orphaned child of a dead opponent, but as a father, he had to be a bit more concerned. His daughters were both older than the Deralian orphan by several years, yet still he would not want them abandoned on some strange world at the mercy of strangers. He would have to think of something. "Alright," he said. "That's fine with me. The sooner we get rid of it, the better."
The three Mandalorian warriors continued discussing their battle plans: the details of the intended invasion and subjugation of Ardilo, the invasion of the neighboring star systems, the laying of mines along the Whitebeam Run, and the eventual inevitable attack on Onderon. The child peeking out of one of the rags that she used to keep herself covered wondered up and down the reception chamber, then stopped and looked in amazement at the two holo-projections of the galaxy.
Out of the corner of his eye Canderous saw the child reaching out to touch one of the galactic holograms. "Hey! What are you doing?" he roared.
Startled by what seemed to her a big roaring monster, muttering something in a completely incoherent tongue, the child immediately began crying again.
Caldar sighed as his discussion with Mandalore, once again, had been interrupted. "There are better ways to deal with an unruly two-year-old than yelling," he said as he grabbed what looked like a small pistol hanging from his belt and handed it to Canderous.
"That's what tranquilizer darts are for."
Canderous stared at the small dart gun. "Are you sure it's safe to use a drug like that on a kid?"
The older Mandalorian warrior shook his head with exasperation. "Yes. It's not going to hurt it. How else did you think I managed to get to sleep last night? Besides, I used to use these things all the time when you were a lad. And look how you turned out."
Canderous was a little perplexed. Still. He stared at the child as it laid kicking and screaming on the floor of the conference room. It's better than dealing with that racket.
Once again the child found herself staring at the barrel of a gun as it fired.
Canderous shot a single dart that hit the toddler in the neck right next to the jugular artery. Yet to his amazement, it just seemed to make her even more hysterical. So he fired a second dart, and she still did not go down. This led him to fire a third shot that hit a child square in the chest which again yielded no effect.
Mandalore paused a moment as he realized what had just happened. "Canderous?" he asked mechanically. "Exactly how many times did you shoot it?"
"Three times," the young Mandalore warrior said in obvious frustration. He looked at Caldar, who drew a blank stare.
"It should have worked by now," the older warrior said. "Those are the same darts we use to catch wild bantha."
"Well how many did it take last night?"
"Do you think I remember?" Caldar said. "It was late. It took a couple of shots for that damned kid to shut up."
"How interesting," Mandalore said. Being of an alien species, he was rather unfamiliar with the subtleties involved in raising human young. "Do all the human children in your clan have such resilience?"
"No," Caldar gazed spookily at the unaffected toddler. Perhaps the events of the past two days had caused some kind of prolonged adrenaline rush in the child's body. It would explain why she couldn't settle down and why the darts were not working. "Try firing one more shot," he said to son.
Canderous pulled the trigger of the dart gun once more. This time, the child dropped to the floor with a soft thud noise. "Finally," he said as he picked up the limp youngster as if she were a toy.
"Put her back in her cage," Caldar said. "And when you're done doing that, come back so we can discuss the supply list for tomorrow."
"Yeah," Canderous growled as he left the room. He looked down at the motionless youngster. You cause an awful lot of trouble for someone so small, little one. But at least tomorrow, you will be someone else's problem.
The next morning, Canderous climbed aboard the Firebrand, a small light freighter belonging to his clan, along with the captive Deralian child. He laid the still comatose toddler in the passenger seat next to him and started priming the ion engines for take off.
A few minutes later the Firebrand took off from its perch on Mandalore's main ship. As the warrior punched in the last coordinates to into the navigation computer to make the jump to lightspeed, he glanced over his shoulder at sleeping youngster. Hopefully, the child would be out for hours, which would make dropping her off somewhere much easier. Few things draw more unwanted attention than being accompanied by a screaming child in public.
As white star-lines from the console window vanished into the bluish tunnel of hyperspace, Canderous turned his head to the mini-holo display of the invasion plans for the Bajic Sector. As he did this, he was not aware that from underneath the child's tattered head covering, two eyes studied him intently. For what seemed to be forever, she studied this horrible monster that had destroyed and killed her family, destroyed her home, and taken her hostage. Every detail was noted from the movements of his hands, to the frenzied look of his grey-blue eyes, to the strange words he spoke as he spoke to the all too familiar voices coming out the communications console. And suddenly as she focused in even more, on the tone of the voice, the rising and falling of distinct syllables, the gibberish became meaningful language: "Once the Bajic Sector falls we will proceed to Lannik and make our presence known there . . ." One by one, name of system after system was mentioned. And suddenly, as if recalling a hazy distant memory, a distinct picture of each flashed before her mind.
As he finished discussing the battle plans with his father over the comm, Canderous could not help but feel he was being watched. He glanced over to see if the child was still asleep.
The youngster froze. She could hear the thudding of her own heartbeat as the warrior reached over and lifted her face covering to check that she was sleeping.
Canderous shook his head, as started checking over the list of munitions that he had been instructed to purchase. Perhaps it had only been his imagination, or perhaps he was just uneasy about leaving the child to whatever fate had in store for her. Finally, he shrugged the last bit of concern off with the thought that he was a warrior and not an esthetician; it was not his job to worry about her welfare. All he had to do is follow orders, and help his clan to victory; nothing more. And that was precisely what he was doing.
Exis Station was a newly built mining outpost and, unbeknowst to all but a few sentients, a Jedi repository. Ever since the Jedi had transported the vast quantity of what was salvaged from their great library on Ossus and held their convocation to pick their new High Council there ten years ago, it was frequented by many humans. Since the Mandalorians had begun their incursions along the Outer Rim, the station had started to become a nexus for displaced refugees. This made the facility overcrowded, noisy, and a breeding ground for unsavory characters trying to con desperate beings out of their last credits.
The space traffic control operator confirmed the landing coordinates for Canderous' ship. "Okay Firebrand, you are cleared for landing at docking bay eighty-five. Please note that a one-hundred credit docking fee is due upon arrival and failure to pay will result in the seizure of your ship and all of its contents."
The Mandalorian rolled his eyes, "Great, that's just wonderful."
"Have a nice day," the operator said as he signed off.
Canderous growled as he muttered something in Mandalorian which amounted to a vivid description of what the operator could do with his nice day and where exactly to put it. Again, he checked over his shoulder to check on the sleeping toddler, who had not stirred. He maneuvered the ship towards the landing bay. It was such a simple plan, really. All he had to do was to leave the child somewhere without drawing too much attention to himself, and if he could do it before the damned kid could wake up it would be even better.
The Firebrand's landing pads touched down with a soft thud. Steam poured out of its exhaust ports as the boarding ramp lowered. As soon he powered down the engine controls and locked the ignition, Canderous reached over and picked the child up.
"Alright, kid it's time to go," he placed the unconscious child as if it were she were a toy dangling over his right shoulder. "I know you don't like me any more than I like you."
The child remained motionless.
Imagine, seeing your home world destroyed before your very eyes as fire rains down on your village from strange ships in the sky. Imagine hearing your mother talking to the other women in your village saying it's better for you to die than to be taken captive by marauders. Imagine being carried over to the cliffs and holding on to your mother's clothing as she throws both you and herself onto the sharp rocks below. Then, being discovered by the monsters that have raided your planet, being taken captive anyway, shot, beaten, and terrorized. Then hearing the monsters' plans to do exactly what they have done to your world, to a hundred thousand others. Imagine being carried upside down, not knowing whether you are going to live or die, through a strange place filled with creatures you never imagined existed. Imagine secretly praying that the awful monster carrying you will not realize that you are awake by the thudding sound of your heart racing. Imagine already crying for days yet the only thing to comfort you is a slap in the face or a boot to your back. Imagine seeing a green bug-eyed monster going up to the monster that is carrying you.
"Before you enter the space port, you must pay the docking fee!" a sickly looking, green, bug-like Rodian cried in Huttese at the grumpy-looking Mandalorian.
Canderous angrily shoved a hundred-credit bill into the Rodian's face. "There you go! Now get lost, and keep your slimy little paws off my ship or you'll be staring up the barrel of my blaster!"
The Rodian scampered away.
The Mandalorian made his way out of the docking bay and into the main area of the spaceport. The station bustled with life from all over the Outer Rim regions. There were aliens of all kinds, including some Canderous recognized from words that his people had already decimated. The streets had the mixed smell of hundreds of different pheromones, engine exhaust, urine, and yesterday's cooking. Canderous wrinkled his nose as the stench found its way into is nostrils. How can anyone live in a place like this? His eyes watered. Destroying this dump would be doing it a favor. Still, he was here for a reason. "Excuse me," Canderous said he tapped the shoulder of an old B-4 protocol droid. "Do you know where I can find the medical bay?"
The droid stared up at the gigantic human that towered a full half meter over him. "Why certainly sir," the droid gestured towards his left. "Take the turbolift to section five, it's located on the second floor."
"Right," the Mandalorian said as he shoved his way to the turbolift.
Since the start of the Mandalorian incursions, the Exis Station Medical Bay had become increasingly flooded by more and more beings seeking treatment for anything from a sore appendage to the Flaavian measles. Today was no exception. Lotta Edun, the Ithorian receptionist had his hands full today. The waiting room was filled to capacity, and he was on his way to lock the door before any more patients came in when all of a sudden the was brushed aside by a brutish-looking human carrying a bundle of rags that trailed over his shoulder.
"Excuse me, human," the Ithorian said. "But we are not taking any more admits today. You will have to come again some other time."
"You look pretty open to me," Canderous said forcefully.
"This facility is up to capacity. I was simply going to lock the door when you rudely barged in," Lotta said.
To the average galactic inhabitant, waiting to receive medical treatment was just a tedious fact of life. But to a Mandalorian whose people did not treat their wounded, who thought the best treatment for a sick being was a quick shot to the head, having to wait for anything was a definite insult. "Look," Canderous said in very low annoyed voice. "I'm just here to drop this kid off," he said as he reached up the back of the youngster's tattered clothing and pulled her up by the collar and dropped her on the floor.
The child landed with a loud thud. She immediately tried to crawl away.
Lotta's eyes bulged with shock. "You monster! How dare you drop your child like that! You ought to be ashamed!"
"Actually, I'm not," Canderous said matter-of-factly. "It's not really my kid, so it's not really my problem. I found her wandering around on the docking bay," he added, trying to make his story believable. "I figured she got lost so I brought her here. You know—in case her folks decide to look for her. And she looks a little hurt."
Lotta stared at the child as she ran and hid behind the reception desk. Whatever was wrong with it, it sure was skittish. "Um. Alright, Human," he said. "I will go and speak to one of the medics to see to her." The Ithorian looked at Canderous suspiciously. "You stay right there. You're going to have to sign some forms and speak to the station authorities." With that, the Ithorian immediately disappeared behind a door next to his reception desk. A few minutes later, the alien came back and the tall human was nowhere to be seen.
Lotta sighed as he shook his large head and then stared at the child who was peeking out from behind the receptionist's chair. "Great. Now what am I going to do with you?"