He had forgotten his mission. Only for a few days, but still, that knowledge rankled. Ran had been fighting this battle for years now, his mind focused solely on the mission and nothing else. People came and went, some left and some died. But there had always been the mission. And now he was walking a very thin line between rescuing the people he needed and destroying the one goal he'd been living for. Three years ago he would have left Kadira and Laniff to fend for themselves after being captured by the Empire. They were Mandalorian, for stars' sake. If anyone knew how to break odds stacked heavily against them, it would be the mando'ade. They had taken on Jedi in the old times, after all, and their culture had lived on despite it. They were survivors, plain and simple, and Ran's focus was supposed to be on more than that. They were supposed to be expendable, as ugly as that seemed. All of them were, but the mission wasn't. Or so he'd thought until he'd come face to face with the decision.

He'd feel better if he wasn't still questioning his choice, if he was able to push forward without looking back doubtfully. At least then he would at least have the comfort of being consistent, of being sure. Instead he was left questioning if he'd made the right choice. His heart said yes, but his mind said otherwise, leaving him at war with himself.

The sound of fluent cursing in Mandalorian flooded the comm, pulling Ran back to the present moment. The distinct sound of blasterfire followed, causing Ran to frown. Apparently Laniff wasn't staying far enough ahead of the troopers for comfort.

::Are you going to zap the troopers or not, Ran? I mean, take your time. Just whenever you feel ready, no pressure. It's not like I'm running for my life or anything.:: Laniff's sarcastic voice came through the comm, followed by another round of blasterfire and a few choice Mando'a words.

"What happened to it being a sport?"

::Just shut up and activate the system, di'kut.::

Ran smiled slightly and glanced down at the small datapad he carried in his hand. Hopefully Laniff had done the calculations correctly, else this would be a very short mission. Without the Vanguard and her advanced systems, this whole mission would be a failure. They needed a ship to even start, and the Vanguard was the only plausible solution. Stealing anything else would take too much time and be too easy to trace. Laniff already knew the Vanguard like the back of his own hand, and Ran was fairly familiar with the ship by now as well. Not to mention the dressing down they would no doubt get from Kadira if they left her ship behind.

He took a deep breath and entered the code Laniff had given him, ducking back into cover to watch the results, expecting a few small arcs of electricity.

Instead, the entire hangar was lit by a sudden harsh light as arcs of electricity shot out from the ship, enveloping the entire hangar. Ran cursed and threw himself further away from the spectacle, knowing full well that a few feet wouldn't do him a lot of good if Laniff's calculations had indeed been off. The lightning - and that was all he could think to call it – arced from support beam to support beam, taking out power generators and overloading every light and electrical device in the hangar. Most of the stormtroopers were thrown to the ground, others knocked against walls or beams by the force of the electricity strikes. Most didn't get back up. Some of the troopers still standing began to open fire at the ship as if that might somehow help, while still others decided to make a run for the doors. Most of them were thrown to the ground before they could make it that far, either knocked out or dead, Ran couldn't tell. Sparks showered from the overloaded lights attached to the ceiling, starting a few small fires around the hangar. When the Vanguard's 'security system', as Laniff had called it, finally shut off, the hangar was left in complete darkness, with only the occasional shower of sparks to cast a brief light on the destruction.

Ran rose slowly to his feet, staring at the destruction in awe. If he had known Kadira had put that on her ship, he probably would never have stepped within a mile of the thing. He couldn't even imagine what other surprises the Vanguard had in store, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

::…It's very dark all of the sudden. Did it work?::

"What do you fierfeking think, Laniff?" Ran snapped, shaken.

::I'll take that as a yes, then. Can I come back now? ::

"Hurry up," Ran replied tersely, starting towards the Vanguard. " There's no way that counts as even close to subtle."

::Have you ever heard of a subtle Mando?:: Laniff asked. ::It's just not in our nature. Let me get rid of these troopers and then I'll join you. Just make sure you enter the right code into the keypad or your hand will be numb for a week.::

"Speaking from personal experience?"

::…Possibly.::

Ran hurried to punch in the correct code to the ship's keypad, all the while hoping Kadira hadn't changed it and forgotten to tell Laniff. The last thing he wanted was a personal display of the Vanguard's other security systems. Lights were beginning to flicker back on in the hangar, no doubt powered by an emergency generator. The troopers' backup would be here soon as well, and he and Laniff needed to be long gone before that happened.

The ship's door hissed open without issue and Ran ducked inside quickly, immediately going to the control console to make sure all the ship's systems were still operational.

::Any news on the Vanguard's status? If it's bad, I want to start thinking of excuses to tell Kadira… such as this whole thing was your idea, not mine.::

"She's operational," Ran replied, scanning the ship's diagnostic lights. Nothing was coming up as broken or even damaged, meaning Laniff had indeed calculated correctly. Not surprising, seeing as the man worked primarily with explosives. It wasn't a field that left much room for error.

::Operational as in barely working, or operational as in it's in fantastic shape and the Imps even did some upgrades for free?::

Laniff really was worried about Kadira's ship if he was asking multiple times.

"Operational as in get your shebs over here before I leave without you," Ran replied dryly, beginning to flip switches to prepare the Vanguard for takeoff. "You have two minutes."

::Well look who's learning Mando'a,:: Laniff replied good naturedly. ::We'll make a full Mando out of you yet, aruetii.::

"A minute and a half."

::Alright, alright, I'm coming.::

Alaida Dain knelt down in the debris of the warehouse that had been used as a safehouse only days before, looking around her grimly. The signs of a firefight were obvious, even without the bodies of stormtroopers scattered haphazardly around the room. Carbon scoring blackened the walls, and blaster bolts had taken out small chips in the duracrete. As she looked around, Alaida was disappointed to see no bodies other than the troopers she had sent with the Death Watch agent, Coorta Mashiri, the woman who had been in charge of this assault. She had sent an entire squadron of troopers, not to mention their leader, and still they had been taken out with apparent ease. They hadn't even managed to take any of their targets with them. Coorta had obviously failed miserably in her task, and Alaida had heard nothing from her in way of either apology or explanation. Which was why she was on this blasted planet now, combing through a battlefield that looked more the troopers had been the ones outnumbered and ambushed instead of the three fugitives who had been holed up in this place.

"Sir?" The trooper interrupted Alaida's train of thought, causing her to rise slowly to her feet, eyebrows raised. She had never been able to get them to call her anything but sir, frustrating as that was.

"What is it?"

"I think you'll want to see this…" the trooper said cautiously, gesturing down a small hall.

Alaida frowned, but followed his lead. A door near the end had been blasted off its hinges, leaving nothing but a twisted hunk of metal. But the destruction wasn't what caused Alaida to stop in her tracks. She let out a slow breath and knelt beside Coorta's body, noting the woman's lack of helmet and the surprised expression fixed on her face.

"This explains why she didn't check in," Alaida murmured, shaking her head and studying the dead woman's face. She had only seen Coorta without her helmet a handful of times. So why would the woman remove it in the middle of a battlefield? She wasn't that reckless, not by a longshot. The wound left no doubt that the shot had been fired while Coorta's helmet was removed, leaving Alaida mystified. "He's not going to be happy to hear this…"

"Shall I comm him, sir?"

Alaida shook her head sharply, rising to her feet. "I'll do it," she said, hiding her reluctance.

She wasn't the skittish type, but the idea of telling him made her more than a little nervous. At least Coorta had been controllable. The woman had worked for an obscene amount of credits, but at least she had wanted something from the Empire in return for her services. He did no such thing, and that made Alaida even more nervous. She didn't trust anyone who didn't have a price.

"Clean this place up, trooper. And take the body, he'll want to inspect it I'm sure," Alaida instructed, looking around the room for any sign of where its occupants had fled to. Unfortunately, Kadira's kidnappers were too good at their job to leave any clues behind. She glanced back to Coorta and sighed. "Make sure not to lose any of her armor. Mandalorians have strange traditions when it comes to their dead. I'm willing to bet Death Watch shares those traditions."

"Yes sir," the trooper responded. Alaida didn't wait for his crisp salute before making her way out of the building. This ridiculous game was getting out of hand. It was time to bring in her trump card.

Laniff let out a sigh of relief as the Vanguard dropped smoothly out of hyperspace, the planet of Mandalore visible only a short distance away. It was good to be home, that much was for sure.

Ran ducked into the cockpit moments later, taking in the wild planet curiously. He had only been there once before and they had been in a bit of a hurry then, as Laniff recalled.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Laniff asked, nodding to the bluegreen orb.

"Not the word I was going to use…"

"That's because you're used to your big ugly cities and their big ugly buildings," Laniff replied cheerfully, steering the Vanguard towards his home planet.

"Do you know where we're going?" Ran asked, taking a seat in the copilot's chair and ignoring Laniff's remark.

"More or less. There's a Bounty Hunter and his partner we need to meet with. Hopefully they can join us in this. If not, then they can probably at least point us to the people who can."

"Who exactly are these people?" Ran asked slowly, obviously distracted by the view of Mandalore.

"Cin Vhetin and his partner, Jaimie Moqena. Some of the best in the business."

"But?"

"But what?"

"You seem hesitant," Ran said, his tone slightly accusing.

"Well… Vhetin happens to be a little… sociopathic," Laniff admitted finally, shrugging. He knew he'd mentioned it to Ran in passing, but he hadn't brought it up again.

Ran let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. "…You have interesting contacts, Laniff," he said finally, shaking his head. "How will this… Vhetin be able to help us, exactly?"

"Well I don't know, exactly, but Kadira met him once before and seemed pretty impressed. He and his partner have brought in some pretty big bounties, and gone through some major osik to do it. He's a good Mando, and his partner is pretty mandokarla herself. "

"Mandokarla?" Ran asked, frowning.

Laniff hesitated, trying to find the best way to translate it. "…She's got the right stuff," he said finally, shrugging at Ran's peeved look. "What? I'm not a Mando'a teacher, di'kut. Go ask somebody else if you want a better translation."

Kadira leaned her head back against the cool walls of her cell, closing her eyes against the glaring headache she'd woken up with. Jett had finally managed to drug her – again – and she'd woken up in another brand new place. Spike was taking no chances anymore, it seemed.

"Jett, if you make that move Spike will win," she called out, knowing her two captors were playing dejarik. She'd been helping Jett for the past hour, but her advice had been doing little good. Spike had quite the head for strategy.

"Do you have a better idea?" Jett snapped in reply to her comment, no doubt glaring down at the board.

Kadira laughed softly, knowing his irritation was due to the fact that neither of them had found a way the beat Spike yet. Why in the galaxy they were working together was a mystery in itself, after all Jett had been the one to kidnap her in the first place, something Kadira wasn't willing to forgive and forget so easily. But somehow the two had seemed to reach a silent understanding. She still gave him a hard time and would take any chance at escape, but when it came to Spike they had formed a sort of mutual pact. Jett's indifference as to what Spike's real goal was seemed to be wearing off, leaving the clone curious as to what game was being played.

A defeated groan from Jett broke Kadira out of her thoughts and she winced.

"He win again?" she asked. Jett's silence was answer enough and she sighed. "Rematch?"

"Kad'ika, we've played four games," Jett reminded her.

"And lost all four. Besides, it's not like you di'kute have given me anything else to do."

Jett sighed, apparently realizing the truth in the answer. "Fine. But this time I say we make him do it blindfolded."

"That's hardly fair," Spike responded, his chair creaking as he stretched. Kadira opened one eye and looked at him pointedly.

"I'm a smuggler, chakaar. Since when do I play fair?"

A/N: Cin Vhetin and Jaimie Moqena will be appearing courtesy of Vhetin1138 on Fanfiction. Check out his stories :)

Sorry for the large delay in chapters. School is going crazy. I thought I'd have more time over break, but my art final is consuming my life at the moment. I'll try to keep updating as often as I can, thanks for your patience :) As always, I love reviews!