"So what you're telling me, is that the T.S.F. were able to muster up five armed agents to arrest my pilot, an old woman, and myself, but could only manage to get one out here to oversee the transport of a droid that contains intelligence that might save the planet? Intelligence that certain un-friendly parties are interested in?"

"Times are tough. We're all stretched a bit thin right now…" The T.S.F. officer stammered, his face reddening slightly.

Meetra tapped her foot impatiently on the durasteel floor as she waited for the droid to clank down the loading ramp of the small shuttle it had arrived on.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" The agent said suddenly, squinting his eyes slightly. "You look really familiar."

"Can't say the same for you." Meetra replied brusquely. It was bound to happen now that she was in Republic space again; recognition. Years ago her considerably younger face had been all over the Holonews along with Revan and Alek. She'd aged for sure, and she'd abandoned the ridiculous hair days after Malachor V, but she was an icon during the years of the war. General Surik certainly had her fair share of camera time.

"You fought in the Mandalorian wars, didn't you?" He pressed as she beckoned the droid to follow her and started walking away.

"A lot of people fought in the wars." She said. "What if I did?"

"Yeah, but I swear, you look just like that general. The one with the wild hair," He said, following after her. "Yup! It's gotta be you. Hey, didn't you used to cut off people's fingers and tie them in your—"

She stopped abruptly, her shoulders rolled forward in annoyance as she brought a gloved finger up to her lips. "Shhh!" She hushed him aggressively and unclipped her blaster. "We have company."

"Oh, unexpected guests!" The protocol droid chirped happily upon laying its photoreceptors on Jana Lorso and her gang of lackeys.

"We're here for the droid." Lorso drawled, looking positively bored. "Hand it over and we won't make a mess."

Meetra sighed. "I don't like people like you. I'm not giving you anything except a bit of credit for having the common sense to bring more than one man." She shot a dirty look at the T.S.F. agent.

"I really must urge you to re-consider." Lorso purred. "It'd be a shame having to destroy someone who is obviously as resourceful as yourself."

"Bold words, coming from a corporate slag." Meetra shot back. "Speaking of which, Lorso, despite your arrogance, the fact that you've never even held a blaster in your life is evident because I can tell from here that your safety is on." She took the opportunity while Lorso was checking the side of her blaster rifle to open fire. Her single T.S.F. officer sprung into action as well, firing at whatever was closest to him. "Step back!" She ordered as she caught the movement she'd been waiting for from the corner of her eye; Atton had appeared from his hiding place in the landing bay control room and had lobbed a few flash grenades down from the balcony into the center of the Czerka gang.

The fire fight didn't last long: The Czerka members, blinded and caught by surprise were easy for Atton, Meetra and the officer to pick off one by one with a few well placed blaster shots from each. The smoke settled and silence fell in the landing bay again, except now there was half a dozen corpses strewn across the floor.

"My, my, what a mess…" The droid remarked, glancing at each of their faces in turn.

"These aren't Czerka employees." Meetra muttered, kneeling on the floor and turning a corpse on its back. "They aren't dressed nicely enough."

"So they're in the habit of just paying roaming packs of bums now to do their dirty work?" Atton quipped, unabashedly emptying the pockets of one of the dead for anything of value. Meetra didn't object. In fact, she did the same

"No, Lorso wouldn't have put her life in the hands of those who had never killed in their life. She's been all about intimidation from the beginning." She stood up and tucked some hair behind her ear. "Too bad it didn't do her any good."

"The Exchange?

"For Chodo's sake, I hope not." She answered, beckoning over the T.S.F. agent. "I need you to report this to Lieutenant Grenn. I want at least two T.S.F. officers, stationed outside this hangar, and the Ithorian compound at all times. A bunch of limp-wristed business-firaxa aren't much to be concerned about, but the Exchange has a distinct lack of boundaries that bodes very ill for the restoration project."

"With all due respect, I'm not sure that the lieutenant will agree to spare that kind of man power around the clock."

"I just need to buy some time for them, if it really is the Exchange, any hopes of resolving this diplomatically have just gone out the window. Just please tell Grenn what you saw here today. I need to get back to Chodo and give him the heads up so at least he knows. At least if we can confirm that these are members of the Exchange, Czerka's reputation can be blown off this rock." She rubbed her temples distractedly, trying to ease the ever-present ache. Her fingertips came away sweaty and she wiped them on her pants. "Let's go." She half-grunted.

"Are you okay?" Atton finally asked once they had left the hangar and were away from any ears other than the droid.

"How do you mean?" Meetra replied, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the droid was keeping up.

"I dunno," He said off-handedly, jamming his blaster back into its holster. "You just seem… sick or something."

"Hmmm…" she hummed, "Concern noted. You can't possibly be as dumb as Kreia keeps insisting you are." She wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hand. "Just not feeling at the top of my game these days. I'm starting to think I'm not cut out for this sort of thing anymore."

The answer was elusive, and she intended it to be. There was a certain amount of embarrassment that came with being as broken as she was. She was once an arrogant and powerful warrior. Strength and capability were traits she prided herself on, but now that her entire equilibrium was thrown off, a shadow of her former self was, to put it mildly—disgusted.

"To be honest with you, that's one thing I never understood about Jedi. You're always on the go. You haven't stopped since we got stuffed into force cages the minute we set foot on this planet." He lit a cigarra from the pack he stole from a dead man. "I'm no doctor, but that'll make anyone sick after awhile."

"And how you you know anything about Jedi?"

He held the cigarra out to her and lit another when she accepted it with a tired smile. "I still owe you that drink." He said, completely evading the question.

"I don't suit the standards for the dress-code." She replied. "And honestly, I don't really care to."

"Come on. Your only other choice is that bar where that creep with the blonde hair works, and for all we know, that could end in blood too."

"No thank you, Atton." She said softly but firmly and near silence fell between them, the only sound being the foot-falls of the droid trying to keep up behind them.

Initially, her strategy to face any Exchange members who thought they could rough up the peaceful Ithorians, was to rely on Grenn's men to guard the compound and hangar while she started snooping. If that wasn't going to happen due to Grenn's lack of personnel, she had fully intended to stake herself outside the doors of the compound night and day until someone came looking for trouble. She wasn't adverse to putting a few blaster bolts in places that would make most species of life-form talk.

As all of the best-laid plans go, however, this exploded like the mining colony she'd woken up on.

"You've been trying to talk to the Exchange, too?" She said incredulously to Chodo.

"Yes, but they refuse to speak with me."

"Obviously," she said, "because you don't have any of this." She rubbed her fingers together and then ran her fingers through her hair. "I honestly didn't think you'd throw in with them, Chodo."

"You misunderstand, Meetra. I didn't want them to harm anybody… I wanted to show them the benefit of allowing us to do our work in peace. Show them the value of restoring Telos."

Force bless him, Meetra thought. Completely determined to be peaceful, teaching rather than demanding. Atton didn't see the humor, however.

"Might as well offer a starving Krayt Dragon some steamed vegetables while wearing a meat-suit." He said snarkily, glancing at all of the plants.

"Regardless, I think they've made it clear who their siding with here. Jana Lorso is dead, but where one greedy business-person falls, ten more seem to pop up. This won't phase Czerka for long."

"They've never allowed me into their compound to talk to them, but you seem to be more...ehm... persuasive. Maybe you could try?"

"How would I get in?"

"The Rodian outside keeps telling me I need an appointment, but all of the requests I've put in are ignored. You may have to find someone else who'll agree to let you in."

Meetra didn't like where this was going. "And where might I find such a person?"

"There's that big loud nightclub that just opened up... they don't even let my kind in. They would let you and your cranky companion in for sure though."

"Cranky?" Atton echoed. "Listen good, you-"

"Not helping." Meetra interrupted. "Looks like our choice has been made. We don't have time to stand around debating our moods. I intend to find some... clothes. But before I commit myself to that, I'd like to visit our Rodian friend and see if we can avoid this pointless song and dance."

"I just don't know why you're so opposed to going in the first place." Atton breathed.

"Don't make me list the reasons." She responded, carefully plucking another Frangipani flower and tucking it behind her ear as they made their way out.