Speeder taxi en route to Keldabe City Enforcement Office, 1300 hours

"So nothing is wrong?" Vhetin asked from the back seat of the taxi.

Jay nodded with a sigh of relief. "Nothing is wrong. Denton just wanted an update on our progress and to tell us he found a witness of the bombing who claims to have known Matt."

Janada, listening into the conversation via holo-communicator, raised an eyebrow. Her miniature hologram floated in the air, projected above Vhetin's new blade-gauntlet. "Who's the newcomer?"

Jay shrugged. "Don't know. An aruetii. I think Denton mentioned something about a Zeltron."

Janada grinned and turned to Vhetin. "A Zeltron, huh? You'll want to polish your armor, little bro. Look good for the new girl."

"Even if I wanted to," Vhetin replied calmly, "I couldn't polish this crap armor you gave me."

"Watch your mouth. You're wearing thousands of credits' worth of prototype tech. Don't be so quick to insult it."

Vhetin laughed. "You sound like it's going to kill me if I don't treat it with respect."

"The armor won't," Janada said, folding her arms. "I will."

Jay craned her neck as they approached the enforcement office. "Can you two stow it for a minute? We're coming up on our destination."

Vhetin nodded and moved to power off Janada's holo. "Catch up with you later, vod."

"Don't forget that me and the other mech-heads from work having poker night tomorrow. We'll save a seat for you."

"I might be busy," Vhetin said. "You know, trying to stop a killer."

"Oh. Right. Well, we'll still be looking out for you."

"Don't get your hopes up," Vhetin said, then signed off the comm.

Jay smiled. "Barely back a week and she's already got you hooked in to playing poker games?"

Vhetin sighed. "Yeah. Janada's always been one to live in the moment and not dwell on the past. I doubt she even remembers I was gone any more."

"Right," Jay said. "I find it hard to imagine her worried sick while you were held captive."

"There's a difference," Vhetin said, "between being worried while someone's gone and being glad they're back."

Jay was about to say more when her comm buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and hooked it into her ear. "Moqena."

The comm was too quiet to hear, but Vhetin turned up his new helmet's auditory receptors until he could make out the conversation. He could clearly hear Denton's voice as the enforcement officer said, "You almost here?"

"Almost," Jay replied. "We're coming up on the shop now. Any new leads?"

"We've got the Zeltron in custody now. She's been pretty cooperative so far, but she isn't talking much until we show her a recording of our findings."

"Ah," Jay said. "And you're reluctant to part with that?"

"Damn straight," Denton replied. "That information is vital to our investigation. I'm not willing to just hand it out to civvies at every opportunity."

"Understandable," Jay said. "What about Brianna? She knew Matt. She might know this Zeltron woman."

"I thought of that as well, but Bellan says she's never seen the Zeltron before."

"If Matt was caught up in the Red Spice trade," Vhetin murmured, "this Zeltron may be a contact of his from... well, from a less savory side of the city."

Jay turned and glared at him. "Cin, please try to stop eavesdropping on conversations I'm having with my boyfriend. That's rude, you know."

Vhetin blinked. "Oh. Sorry."

He fell silent, but continued to listen intently to the conversation. Jay turned back to her seat and said, "What about Handmaiden? Has she found anything new?"

"Nothing that she's seen fit to share with me."

"She can be like that sometimes." The taxi turned a corner and the enforcement office came into sight. "We're here. See you in a few."

"We'll be waiting."

The taxi dropped them off outside the enforcement office, parking between two black-painted police vehicles. Vhetin stepped out of the taxi, turning up his new helmet's prototype scanning equipment and surveying his surroundings. The building they had stopped at was a plain gray structure with a boxy construction and few windows that he could see, built straight into one of the towering barrier walls that encircled the city. The architecture was reminiscent of the Imperial garrison to the north. He assumed the headquarters of the city police force, which had been a run-down wreck during the Clone Wars, had been rebuilt and retrofitted by Imperial contractors. Mandos had never been ones to refuse help, even from Imperials.

"So," he eventually said, "this is the enforcement office, huh?"

"What, you've never been here?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow as she took the lead.

He shook his head. If not for the gold-armored officers swarming around the building, he would have taken it for any other structure in the city. It was a little nicer than the shabby architecture that made up the rest of downtown Keldabe, but it blended in pretty well with the buildings around it, its boxy architecture molding perfectly into the centuries-old barrier defenses that made up its back wall. He assumed that made the office less of a target for anyone looking to harm the Keldabe police force. "The only trouble I've gotten into in the city is with Imperials. This place looks... nice, I guess."

"Well there's a first time for everything. Come on, Denton's waiting for us."

She led him through the front doors, into the main atrium of the building. It was busy inside; probably due to the bombing downtown. Gold-armored officers and day-to-day city inhabitants were everywhere, though the atrium was strangely silent. Vhetin didn't know whether that was due to the shock of the bombing or the fact that most of the Mandos were using their internal helmet comms.

If it was more due to shock, Vhetin didn't blame them. Keldabe could get rowdy, especially when the Oyu'baat or alcohol was involved, but the city was rarely violent. Vhetin couldn't remember the last time there had been a bombing within the city limits, or even if there had been one during his lifetime. Mandos simply didn't operate like that; collateral damage wasn't the Mandalorian way.

Jay quickly found a free officer and said, "We're looking for Denton Dral. Can you point us in the right direction?"

The man gestured over his shoulder and grunted, "Down that hall. Interrogation Room Delta."

She nodded, thanked the man, then set off down the hall. Vhetin quickened his pace to keep up with her and said, "So what do we know about this new witness? The Zeltron."

"Denton didn't want to talk much on comms," Jay said, "No telling who could be listening in."

"Smart man."

"Yeah. But what he did tell me was that this Zeltron woman supposedly knew our victim. Said she was pretty shaken up to learn he was dead. If you're right and they were in on the drug trade together, she may be able to give us valuable information."

"Any other intel?"

"She's pretty quiet from what I hear," Jay said. "Shock from the bombing, I'm guessing. When we get there, let's take it slow and careful. You stay back while I question her."

"Why?"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Take the word of an aruetii, Cin. Your armor doesn't exactly make people calm and sociable. Especially when it looks so... messy."

"Hey, I didn't ask for this new kit," he said indignantly. "If it were up to me, I'd still be in the black and gray."

"Calm down, Cin," she said with the hint of a smile. "I was just teasing you."

"Oh."

"Just stay with the others in the observation room and I'll handle the interrogation."

He reluctantly nodded. "Right. I'll just glare at her if she starts dodging questions. That way I'll still get to be the bad cop."

She smiled. "Not this time. If anyone's going to be the bad cop, it's going to be Denton. You know, because he's actually a cop."

Vhetin paused, then scowled and followed closer, muttering, "But I'm always the bad cop."

She laughed and nudged him in the ribs. "Get over yourself, Stripes."

They met up with Denton, Handmaiden, and Brianna just outside Interrogation Room Delta. Vhetin's stomach tightened when he saw they were all covered in a mixture of ash, dirt, and blood. He made instantly for Brianna and moved to give her a concerned hug. He quickly thought better of it and instead awkwardly touched her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She seemed to calm down when she recognized his voice. She was bleeding in several places, had a black eye and more than a few bruises, and was holding her wrist tightly in pain. But she nodded and sighed, "We're okay. It was... well, it was a nightmare back there."

He didn't like the way her voice was shaking. He squeezed her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "A lot of innocents were caught in the blast. There were... a lot of bodies."

He scowled and thought, screw it, and pulled her into a gentle hug. He half-expected her to push him away, but she surprisingly hugged him back. He closed his eyes, remembering when such a gesture was a familiar thing.

She shivered, as if cold. "It's... been a long time since I've seen something like that. I'd forgotten what it was like."

"It's okay," he murmured, patting her shoulder. "You're safe now."

They stayed that way for a few moments. Then she took a shaky breath and pushed away, holding him at arm's length. "I'm okay now. I'll be fine."

Vhetin nodded slightly and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He didn't care about the way she wasn't meeting his gaze, or the way Handmaiden was staring at him with a mixture of contempt and snide amusement. She may be seeing someone else, but she was still his Brianna, his Bri. Nothing would change that.

Then he turned his attention to the one-way mirror and the scene unfolding beyond it. Jay was leaning against the opposite wall, thumbing through a folder full of flimsi reports. Sitting at the bolted durasteel table in the center of the room was a Zeltron woman with skin the color of blood and hair as black as Vhetin's old armor. Her eyes, red like her skin, were darting nervously around the room and she was wringing her hands again and again. She definitely looked frightened, but by what, he couldn't tell.

Vhetin hadn't had many dealings with Zeltron. He'd long suspected that one of his many contacts was of the same species, but had no evidence to back it up. He did know, however, that physiologically Zeltron were fast, nimble, and quiet, renown for their skills as spies or assassins. Their females were seductive temptresses, able to manipulate the secretion of pheromones that could entice even the most steadfast of men. When he'd heard such rumors, he had immediately installed olfactory filters in his helmet to combat such an occurrence.

Pheromones aside, Vhetin had to admit the woman was one of the most beautiful females he had ever seen. Her face was lean and regal, with high cheekbones, a proud chin, and dark eyes that blazed with an internal fire. She was wearing a dark leather corset that left her smooth shoulders bare and had heavy leather work pants and combat boots. Vhetin saw from the report projected onto his side of the mirror that she'd had a heavily modified field pistol confiscated upon her admittance to the station; she had obviously been living on Mandalore for some time, then.

There was a loud clank and the heavy blast door leading into the detention room slid open. Denton entered the room, helmet gone, a frown on his face. He slowly shut the door behind him, then took the seat opposite the woman. He reached out to take a flimsi report Jay offered him and looked through it silently, a frown still furrowing his brows. The Zeltron's gaze darted nervously between him and Jay.

Eventually, Denton sighed and set aside the report. He folded his hands, fixing the woman with an intense, unwavering gaze, and said, "Can we get your name once more for the record?"

The woman shifted in her seat and said, "Callie. Callie Mapular."

"Miss Mapular," Denton said, "it's not common for people to turn themselves in and openly offer information for a murder case. Care to explain why you broke the trend?"

The Zeltron woman smiled slightly, sadness permeating the gesture. "Matt and I were old friends. We met at Academy, studying political science together. I always thought it was odd that a Mandalorian would be enrolled in a class like that."

"You two were close?"

She nodded. "I would have done anything for him."

"Romantically close?" Denton pressed with a raised eyebrow.

"What? No!" she laughed a little at the notion, brushing a wayward strand of black hair from her dark eyes. The motion was a little too flirtatious for Vhetin to take the statement at face value. "Matt was happily married. The last thing I would want to do is get between him and Lia."

"So you just knew each other from school?" Denton asked. "That's it?"

"Pretty much," the woman said with a frown. "Why... why do you ask?"

Jay looked up from her collection of files. "Callie, we have reason to believe Matt was caught up in illegal activities, outlawed by both Mandalorian and Imperial law."

The Zeltron frowned. "Like what?"

"Drugs," Jay said. "Red Spice, specifically."

"I've never heard of it," the woman said. "And I have no idea why Matt would do drugs. He was happy."

"So you can think of nothing that indicates he would have been caught up in the city drug trade?" Denton inquired.

"No," Callie said. "I mean, we all have our problems. Matt had some monetary issues, but he was always able to deal with them on his own."

"Callie," Jay said, flipping over a report and skimming through it quickly, "it says here you and Matt were more than just friends. He worked for you, at your..."

"Packaging plant," the woman said, nodding. "I manage a packaging plant for farm supplies here in Keldabe. Grassgrain seed, stuff like that. When Matt was in the dumps, I would sometimes give him a job. Just until he could get on his feet again, you know."

"Is there someone there he may have come into contact with?" Denton inquired. "Someone there who may have set him up with the drugs?"

"No!" Callie said indignantly. "I would never employ people like that!"

"You sure? You couldn't have known every one of your employees on such a personal level."

"I'm sure," the woman replied, folding her arms stubbornly. "Even if someone was hiding that from me, another employee would have brought it to my attention."

"You wouldn't mind if my partner checked out your plant?" Jay asked. "We need to validate your claims."

"Go ahead," Callie said with a dismissive wave of one hand. "Just tell the guards I sent you."

Jay nodded and put a finger to her hands-free comlink. Vhetin heard her voice over his new helmet comm, the transmission crisper and clearer than if heard over his previous model. The transmission also crackled out over his helmet's external speakers, allowing Brianna and the Handmaiden to listen in as well. "You heard the lady, Stripes. You have your assignment."

"I'm on it."

"Take someone with you. No telling what other surprises this murderous di'kut has up his sleeve."

Vhetin glanced at his two companions. Brianna pointedly avoided his gaze, while the Handmaiden simply narrowed her eyes in challenge. He rolled his eyes and switched the conversation over to a private comm channel. "But there are so many eager volunteers to choose from."

"All due respect intended, Cin, but get over it. I need you scouting out that packaging plant and I don't want you wandering off alone."

"Your concern is noted," Vhetin said. "And appreciated. But I don't think either of these two are going to-"

"I'll go with you," Brianna interrupted, as if she could still hear their conversation. Vhetin looked over at her, but found that she was still staring at her boots. She shifted uncomfortably and repeated, "I'll go with you. You need someone to back you up, like Jay said."

"I don't think-" Vhetin began.

"It's settled, then," Jay interrupted. "Get to the packaging plant and scout it out. I want a report back within the hour."

Vhetin stared at Brianna for a few moments, then sighed. "Done."

With that, he turned and strode out of the room, barely pausing to allow his ex-girlfriend to keep up.


"Why?"

Brianna blinked. "What?"

He didn't look back at her as he strode down the long, busy halls of the Keldabe enforcement office. He swerved to avoid a gold-armored officer hauling a cuffed criminal toward the holding cells, then clenched a fist and repeated, "Why? Why would you, of all people, decide to come with me?"

Brianna shook her head. He was going to be difficult about this, she knew it. It was one of the things she simultaneously admired and hated about him: his relentlessness. "Well, it was obvious that Echani wasn't going to volunteer any time soon. And Jay's right that you need someone to watch your back. You're not exactly in the best position to fight."

"And?"

"And what?" she said.

"There was more reason than that," Vhetin muttered. "You were never one to operate solely on a basis of practicality. That's my field of expertise."

Brianna grimaced, but Vhetin wasn't about to relent. He wasn't going to let her off that easy, so there was really nothing to do but come clean.

She eventually sighed. "Despite whatever has happened between us, I missed you. I wanted to spend some time together after so long apart."

"Right," he scoffed. "And a murder investigation was the best time you could come up with?"

"Don't do this, Cin," she said as they emerged out onto the sunlit streets of Keldabe. Brianna shivered slightly as a cold breeze suddenly gusted from the north-east, signs of an approaching cold front. She zipped her leather jacket, pulling up the collar and hunching her shoulders against the wind. "Don't start us off like this."

"I couldn't care less," Vhetin growled, his tone dripping with animosity. "You made your intentions clear this morning when you introduced me to your buddy Galaar."

Brianna rubbed her eyes. "I shouldn't have to explain myself. To you least of all."

"No, you do have to explain yourself now," he snapped, rounding on her. "This isn't like our previous arguments, Bri. This is a little more serious, wouldn't you say?"

"No," she said, frowning and taking a step forward. "No, it isn't. But you seem to think so."

He shook his head in disgust and moved to walk away. She put a hand on his chest plates, preventing him from doing so.

"When couples break up," she said, "they usually start to see other people. Literally everyone in the galaxy operates by the same principle. Don't tell me you're so completely out of it that you don't know that."

"I understand the concept," Vhetin said. "What I question is the amount of time it took you to find someone else. Just how long did it take for you to hook up with your buddy Galaar? Months? Weeks? Days, maybe?"

"Kriff you, Cin," she snapped, shoving at his chest. "I try and make time to catch up and this is how you respond?"

He seemed to visibly deflate. His shoulders slumped and his fists unclenched. He took a few long, deep breaths, then murmured, "You're right. I'm sorry."

She nodded and took a step back, relieved that she had finally calmed him down. She could tell he was truly sorry, and it made her feel bad for being so cross with him. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry too. For all our differences... well, we used to have something. I'd hate for that to disappear."

"I would too," Vhetin said, shaking his head. They lapsed into uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Then, as a taxi pulled up to take them to the packaging plant, he cleared his throat and said, "Catch-up time can wait. For now, we've got work to do."

"Agreed," she murmured as she climbed in next to him. She was relieved that he was once again focused on the task at hand. It was a trait that had previously infuriated her, but she was now glad he could so easily switch from personal troubles to thoughts of business. "So where do we start?"

"Like Jay said, typical recon assessment of the packaging plant. We need to evaluate the area, check security vids for any suspicious activity, and interview staff to see if they know anything about Matt or this Red Spice trade. Assume everyone there is a potential hostile until proven otherwise."

"You make it sound like we're heading into a warzone." The speeder took off with a jarring surge of acceleration while she plugged in the coordinates to a panel on the back of her seat. The droid driver beeped in acknowledgment and steered them toward the destination.

He shrugged, trying – and failing – to stifle a wheezing cough behind his helmet. "Over ten people are dead now because of this killer, with Force-knows how many others to follow. We have no idea who the target is or what he wants, except that he seems hell-bent on killing as many innocents as he can before he's caught. I think that's a pretty good definition of a warzone."

He was about to say more, but broke down in a sudden hacking fit, holding his chest in pain. Brianna moved toward him, unsure of what she should do. But he quickly waved her off and turned away from her.

"I'm fine," he gasped between coughs, "I'm okay."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to sit this one out? You sound terrible."

He finally was able to control himself and sat back in his seat, sucking in a long breath. "I'm okay. Haven't felt like throwing up black slime in hours, so I think I'm doing better."

"I'm sure Jay wouldn't want to see you push yourself beyond your limits," she said, awkwardly covering up her own concern. "Not so soon after you've returned."

He saw through her almost immediately; he knew her too well for her ruse to go unnoticed. "Is that the only reason you're concerned?"

She quickly looked away. "For now, yes."

He stared at her for a few long, uncomfortable moments, then turned his gaze ahead. She distinctly heard him mutter, "Liar."

She sighed and said, "Look, don't do this to me Cin. Please. I've got a good thing going with Galaar and I don't want you messing it up."

Her words stung more than she had intended; she saw him wince visibly. "You're serious?"

"Yes," she insisted, softening her tone. "I... I still care about you, Cin, but... but not like it was. You understand that, right?"

"No."

She cursed and rubbed her eyes, taking a few moments to gather her thoughts. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "Cin, I know that you haven't had to go through this before. After your accident... well, I was the only person you were really close to."

"That's why-"

"Let me finish," she pressed. "I was the only person you had,but if you keep treating me like we never broke up... well, you'll only find pain. You need to move on. For both our sakes."

He stared at her for a long time, expression unreadable behind his beskar face plate. Then he eventually shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bri, but that's something I just can't do."

"Cin-"

"No,"he interrupted forcefully. "Now it's my turn."

He checked to make sure the window separating them from the droid driver was fully tinted, then pulled his helmet off and set it on his lap. Brianna winced to see the state he was in; his face was a mess of bruises and lacerations, one eye almost swelled shut. His lips were cut and swollen and it looked as if his hair had been falling out in clumps. Her heart broke to see him in such obvious pain, while her head shouted at her to stifle such feelings. Like she herself had said, it would only lead to pain.

But the sincerity in his eyes was too real to resist when he met her gaze and said, "You may have the benefit of experience, Bri, and you're right. I've never shared my life with anyone but you. But that's not a weakness."

"You're not-"

He ignored her. "You say I'll find only pain if I pursue what we once had. Well I'm willing to accept that. Because that's how much I cared. How much I still care. I'll suffer any amount of pain I have to in order to see you happy. If that means I spend the rest of my life looking back on what we had while you move on... then so be it."

He touched her hand, gently. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his intense blue gaze as he said, "I will never, ever stop loving you, Bri. No matter what."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to mind. In the end, it didn't matter; he quickly pulled his hand back, pulled his helmet over his head, and adjusted himself in his seat, stifling another weak cough.

In a single moment, it was done. Case closed, conversation over.

She blinked, heart hammering in her chest, then turned her gaze to the seat in front of her and sighed a quiet curse.

I really know how to pick 'em, don't I? she chided herself with a small shake of her head.


Ten minutes later

"I don't care how difficult is is, Tarron, I need you to find out what you can."

"I need more time!" the man shot back.

Vhetin sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could rub his throbbing forehead. "Tarron, you have no idea how dangerous these people are. Project Whiteclaw-"

"-is gone, Cin. You said yourself that you destroyed their facility and killed almost all of their men. What would the Empire gain from rebuilding a multi-million-credit research project that wasn't producing any results in the first place?"

Vhetin shook his head. "You don't understand. If the Project was a failure, they had contingency orders to switch the focus of the group to viral weapons development."

There was a long pause before the comm crackled with a response.

"Well... that is worth looking into," Tarron admitted, "but with the Facility destroyed, you can't say for certain that any of the virus made it out."

"Can you say for certain that it didn't?"

There was a long pause over the comm, during which Vhetin could hear the humming of the speeder's engines as they made their way through traffic toward the packaging plant. Finally, Tarron let out a weary sigh and said, "All right. Point made. I'll send out a few feelers, see what I can dig up."

"I'm not looking for a fight," Vhetin felt compelled to say. "I'm just trying to put my mind to rest."

"I know, old friend," Tarron said sympathetically. "You hang in there, okay? Rame filled me in on the details of your condition."

"I'm fine," Vhetin said, lying through his teeth. He'd felt the preservative fluid building up in his lungs again over the past few hours and knew that another purge was inevitable. Thanks to Rame, he was downing as much immuno-booster and anti-viral medication as he could to try and fortify his body against the pneumonia infection, but couldn't cure himself completely. At the end of the day, all he could do was wait to get better.

"Don't push yourself too hard," Tarron warned. "Remember, you're no good to us dead."

Vhetin chuckled a little, then said, "Your concern is noted. But I need that information."

"All right, all right," the man said in mock-exasperation. "Back for less than a day and he's already got his boot up my ass..."

Vhetin couldn't restrain a grin as he said, "Thanks Tarron. It was good to talk to you again."

"Likewise. What's it like being back home?"

Vhetin glanced over at Brianna, silently thanking the fact he had his external helmet comm turned off. "Tense."

"I'd imagine. It would be odd to come back after so long."

"More than that. Brianna's seeing someone else."

Silence. Eventually Tarron sighed and said, "Really?"

"Really."

"I'm sorry, vod. That must be hard. What's he like?"

"An asshole."

"Obviously. I meant apart from that."

Vhetin shook his head. "I don't really know. Haven't had time to chat with him. I hope I never do."

Tarron was silent for a few moments more, then he said, "Well in that case you need all the good news you can get. I'll look into this Whiteclaw thing for you. You take care of yourself, okay?"

"No promises," Vhetin replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Tarron grumbled. "I know how it works."

"Vhetin out." He signed off the comm and sat back in his seat, rubbing his sore throat. Speaking for extended periods of time made his throat hurt worse than usual and made his lungs constrict painfully in his chest.

Eventually, Brianna glanced over at him, then murmured, "So... how is Tarron?"

"Fine," he replied. "He's back among the Hapan consortium, attending to the Queen Mother."

"And he agreed to help you track down this Whiteclaw group you mentioned?"

"For the time being. He's not making any promises, considering the last time he joined up with me he was almost beaten to death. But he said he'll look into the matter."

There was a few long moments of silence, during which the cab pulled around a corner and the warehouse came into view. As the speeder slowed to a halt and the droid pilot informed them that it was safe to leave the vehicle, Brianna shook her head and said, "Do you think they're still out there?"

"I don't know," he replied as he exited the speeder. He glanced up at the dark, cloudy sky and murmured, "I hope not."

Brianna shuddered. A storm was moving in, one of Keldabe's many summer thunderstorms. There was a cold wind blowing through the area and rain would undoubtedly begin to fall soon. "So about this packing plant?"

"Typical run-of-the-mill Keldabe business," Vhetin replied, pulling up the building's quarterly report on his HUD. "It doesn't look like there's anything shady going on. Fluctuating profits, periods of loss..."

"No way to tell without getting in there," Brianna sighed. "Let's go."

Vhetin led the way, cautious of any more surprises. He was surprised by the boldness of the previous attack. There hadn't been a suicide bombing in Keldabe in decades, at least since the last Death Watch uprising during the Clone Wars. For one to happen now, after so long a time of peace, was more than moderately disturbing.

"Vhetin and Bellan," he said, presenting his identification to the human man at the front desk. "We're here on special assignment from the enforcement office."

"Aye, I know why you're here," the man growled, waving away the ID badge. "You have permission to investigate as you please.

"Anything odd going on recently?"

"Nothing," the man said. "All calm as always."

Brianna glanced at Vhetin skeptically, then said, "I'd like to take a look at all of your security footage. Can you show me the way?"

The man nodded, albeit grudgingly. "This way."

Vhetin nodded to them and said, "I'll start interviewing employees and see what I can dig up. I'll be in touch."

He made his way around the front desk, to the doors behind with signs displaying EMPLOYEES ONLY. Beyond was a much larger area, the main room of the warehouse. Crates were stacked everywhere, everything from military food ration to grassgrain stock to weapons and ammunition. Vhetin smiled at the thought of what the Imperials might do if they got a look inside; if he knew Mandalorian business, which he did, he would guess that much of the warehouse's stock was illegal, at least by Imperial standards.

He waved down a passerby, a warehouse manager by the look of him. "I'm here to interview staff in regards to a police investigation. Can you gather your employees?"

"Aye, sir," the man said in a heavily accented voice. "It'll be done in a sec."

Vhetin nodded as the man set off on his task. He pulled up his HUD systems, opening a live link to Brianna's comm. He watched the employee's progress as he gathered up the warehouse workers into an orderly line, awaiting inspection by Vhetin.

"Security footage is showing just a little less than nothing," Brianna replied with a weary sigh.

"Not surprising," Vhetin said, heading toward the line of assembled employees. "Our mastermind has proven to be a very intelligent being who has a firm grasp of his surroundings. He's probably covered his tracks."

"Keep the comm open while interviewing the employees," she said. "I want to hear the conversation."

"Will do."

He stepped forward and linked his arms behind his back. His time with the military began returning to him, and he began mirroring his ICF training sergeant's stance when inspecting his troops: straight-backed, taking short, measured steps, eyes holding the gaze of each man he passed.

"You know why I am here." It was not a question.

Several gazes shifted uneasily at his words. He noticed it with satisfaction; that meant some of them might have the information he sought. He maintained his stern, helmeted gaze and continued his walk. "I'm a bounty hunter, on special contract with the city enforcement office. Count yourselves lucky that you find yourself in my company, rather than the company of the enforcement office drug squad."

More uneasy gazes, now mixed with hushed murmurs. Vhetin let them continue before raising a single hand to silence them. He narrowed his eyes behind his HUD while Brianna said, "Giving them the bad cop routine? I like it."

He ignored her and instead growled, "The Keldabe Enforcement office has reason to believe that this warehouse has been a post in the city drug trade. Now, usually the entire city police force would descend on this place, but it just so happens that they've got bigger problems."

He stopped at the end of the line of employees, then turned on his heel and headed back the way he came. "I speak with the full power and authority of the Keldabe police force. And I promise that anyone who steps forward will not only have amnesty from any crime committed, but have a cash award paid on the spot."

There was a long pause, during which Brianna said, "We're offering them money now?"

He turned off his helmet's external speakers and replied, "If that's what it takes."

"I don't think Denton would approve."

"I don't think he'd care," Vhetin said. "It's coming from my pocket, not his."

He then turned his attention back to the people before him. They were talking earnestly among themselves now, some of them glancing at Vhetin fearfully. He turned his gaze over the line, listening with satisfaction as the frightened whispers only intensified. Some of them were even pointing at him nervously.

"What is your response?" he said finally. "I can be most forgiving when I get what I want."

"Cin..." Brianna said slowly. "We've got someone on the cams. He's got a gun."

"Good. Put a time and a place on the cam and send the vid to Denton. When did it happen?"

"Now!" Brianna suddenly shouted. "He's coming for you!"

Vhetin reacted without thinking, ducking down out of the way. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind: Why hadn't he checked his HUD's 360-degree display? The workers had obviously been pointing not at him, but at someone behind him. So who was this attacker? And if he was linked with their killers, why was he using a gun and not simply blowing himself up like last time?

Then a blaster bolt flashed through his field of vision, slicing the air just beyond his visor and hitting a warehouse employee squarely between the eyes. The man twitched and fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Screams erupted throughout the warehouse and employees took off running in all directions. Several armored warehouse guards stepped forward to apprehend the man with the gun, but they were swiftly cut down by blaster fire. The ever-calm analytical side of Vhetin's mind observed that they were felled by precise shots to the throat – one of the only weak points on a Mandalorian's armor.

Then more shots flew his way and he somersaulted to the side, drawing a pistol from his belt as he came back to his feet. His new HUD was frantically scanning the area, throwing copious amounts of information onto his helmet display with dizzying speed. He grimaced in irritation and shoved it all off-screen with a flick of his eyes. The amber-colored display dimmed and he spotted a man dressed in black sprinting away down a side-aisle of the warehouse.

Vhetin took off after him, raising his weapon and shouting, "Stop!"

Not surprisingly, the man did not listen. But he did surprise Vhetin when he planted a boot on a nearby shelf and vaulted himself into the air, catching hold of the top ledge and hoisting himself up on top of the storage shelf with astonishing ease. He staggered only slightly, off balance, then set off again faster than before.

"Great," Vhetin muttered. "So it's going to be one of those days."

Then he followed suit, pushing off the shelf with his boot and pulling himself up on top of the aisle. He groaned as a wash of pain ran through the stitches in his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it. The man was getting away, leaping from aisle-top to aisle-top with uncanny speed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brianna demanded over his helmet comm.

"He's making a run for it," Vhetin gasped as he clambered up onto the aisle and started after the man. He leaped across the gap to the next shelf, landing with difficulty before jumping to the next. "Do you have a better way to catch him?"

"You're going to kill yourself," she said worriedly. "Back off. I'll take it from here."

He shook his head, throwing himself to the next aisle shelf. The suspect was only three rows ahead now. "The guy will be gone by then."

"I'm not letting you go after him alone."

Vhetin was about to reply when he spotted a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. He looked towards it and spotted a blur of white in the warehouse's rafters far above his head. He narrowed his eyes as he threw himself to the next shelf and growled, "I'm not alone."

"What the hell is that supposed to-"

He shut off his comm and scowled in determination, watching his HUD track the Handmaiden as she sprinted from rafter to rafter, leaping through the air high above him with almost superhuman agility. He bent his knees and leaped over another gap, seeing the man reach the far end of the room and drop off the top shelf and out of sight.

Moments later he vaulted after the man, heading toward the door he saw swinging open ahead of him. He barreled through it, ready to pull his blaster and hit the man with a stun round and find out just what the hell-

He was knocked off his feet as something heavy hit him in the back of the neck, at the sensitive, unguarded point between his collar guard and his helmet. He fell forward onto the ground, sprawling face-first in the mud. He groaned, his head and neck pounding. Through blurry vision, he saw that it was raining now and that the bare ground had turned to a thick layer of mud.

He crawled to his hands and knees, looking through streaming eyes at the dark figure in front of him.

"Who... are you?" he managed to gasp, holding his side.

The figure stepped forward and kicked him in the side, hard enough to knock him off his feet again. He cried out in pain, feeling his stitches pop all along his side and blood beginning to soak his flight suit.

"You thought you were so close, didn't you?" a contemptuous voice said above him. He heard wet footsteps in the mud around him as he rose to his hands and knees again. "So close to figuring it all out."

"Who are you?" Vhetin said again, holding his side.

"A concerned citizen of this great city," said the man circling him. His voice was low and had an unnatural warble to it. He was obviously using some kind of harmonic vocal disguiser. "Willing to do whatever is necessary to assist our people."

"Our people?" Vhetin echoed. "You're Mandalorian."

"Got it in one," the man said. "Serving the mando'ade as best I can."

"By killing people?"

The man cocked his head. "In war, some sacrifices must be made."

"We aren't at war," Vhetin said through gritted teeth.

"Oh maybe not yet," the man said. "But we will be soon. One way or another."

He reached down and picked up Vhetin's fallen pistol from the mud. He lifted it up, inspecting it and turning it over in his hands before kneeling in the dirt and pressing the weapon to the unarmored point at Vhetin's neck. The man cocked his head sympathetically and said, "I'm almost sorry you won't be there to see it."

Vhetin tensed as he felt the man squeeze the firing stud, then threw himself to his feet, ramming his helmet into the man's face. The man recoiled with a curse, squeezing off a single shot that hit Vhetin's arm. Vhetin shouted, clutching his arm, then kicked the pistol away. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the man around the waist and carrying them both into the mud. He brought his helmet up, catching the man in the chin, and landed two punches to the man's ribs before he was kicked away.

They both staggered to their feet. Vhetin's helmet sent a small electrical pulse across the surface of his visor, burning away the rain and mud that clouded his vision. He balled up his fists as the man struck forward with a lightning-fast punch to his stomach. Vhetin easily blocked the blow and countered with a boot kick to his opponent's chest. The man jumped back, out of reach.

Vhetin's new armor was lighter and more flexible than his previous suit, giving him unprecedented agility in battle. The other man was wearing traditional beskar'gam, and therefore slower and heavier. His punches were heavier, but easier to predict. Vhetin, even in his weakened state, could easily dodge. He found it easier to simply avoid and counterattack rather than take the offensive himself. The man would easily wear himself out, leaving Vhetin free to move in to restrain him.

But his opponent had other ideas. Vhetin dodged a swipe at his head and lunged forward for a strike at the man's face, but the man hopped back out of range.

"As entertaining as a fist fight with you would be," the man said, breathing hard, "I've got more important things to do."

Vhetin was about to press his attack when the man suddenly lashed out with three powerful punches to his wounded ribs. Vhetin groaned and fell to his knees, holding his bleeding side. His opponent followed with a knee to the face, sending Vhetin crashing back down onto his back. Vhetin struggled to rise, but the armored man stomped down hard on his chest, popping even more of Vhetin's stitches in the process. Robbed of strength, he could only sit back and hold his chest, gasping for breath.

The man seized his opportunity to escape. He nimbly back-flipped up onto a nearby dumpster, out of Vhetin's reach. He placed his hands on his hips and said, "Oh, and when you see that pretty partner of yours again, give her a message from me. She and her di'kutla boyfriend had a lucky break at the shop today. They won't be so lucky next time."

The man gave Vhetin a cocky salute then backflipped again over the fence behind him, dropping down out of sight. Vhetin listened to the man's splashing footsteps retreating into the distance, then collapsed forward, into the mud.