Keldabe Enforcement Office, 0830 hours

Vhetin shook his head, wishing he could get some sleep. The events of the past day had drained him, especially considering his already-weakened condition. He had purged preservative fluid from his lungs twice more since they had taken the Handmaiden into custody. He'd been forced to dispose of the slime with a steady gout of fire from his new flamethrower. Then he had doused the area outside with medical sterilization fluid before he was satisfied it was no longer harmful to others.

The mess at the warehouse had been cleaned up and all the employees had been released back to the public after Callie's death. The local HoloNet news crews had been told that the proposed infectious outbreak had all been a false alarm due to improper Imperial procedure. The Mandalorian news reporters had eaten the lie up and dispersed, eager to find more evidence of the incompetence of the local Imperial garrison. Vhetin was sure the Empire wouldn't be too happy about the poor publicity, but that wasn't his concern. Besides, the Empire had a vested interest in stopping these bombings as well; if it looked like they couldn't protect their own citizens, then anti-Imperial sentiment in the city could quickly turn to armed revolution. No one wanted that, so the Empire would play along. For now.

What did concern him was the Handmaiden, who had murdered their only lead in cold blood. Something about the casual way the Echani had snapped their suspect's neck had stirred something deep inside him, something beyond distrust or revulsion. He began to see now that the Handmaiden was more than a bounty hunter or an assassin. She was dangerous. Vhetin had been accused of sociopathic acts in the past, but there was always a reason for his deeds, always some higher cause for violence. The Echani seemed to believe that violence was a useful tool to get what she wanted. He'd worked with people like her in the past and had found himself at cross-purposes quickly. Usually blasters were pointed soon after that.

Brianna was staring at him expectantly, arms folded. "Well?" she pressed. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," he finally said. The Handmaiden had to be punished in some way for screwing up their investigation so royally. But in doing so, she had provided another lead for them to follow up. Ultimately her fate was for Tobbi Dala to decide, but until he got back from raiding the drug hub with Jay and Denton, the responsibility for the Handmaiden fell to Vhetin and Brianna.

He sighed again, wishing he could just lay down and sleep for an hour or so. He was exhausted, stressed, and still hurting from his fight with the Mandalorian changeling he had encountered at the warehouse. Thankfully, there wasn't much action at the Keldabe Enforcement Office and that gave him some time to recuperate.

"We can't just leave her in there," Brianna said, staring at the Handmaiden through the tinted observation window. The Echani was sitting in one of the interrogation rooms, hands bound to the table by heavy binders. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be meditating. She hadn't moved in over an hour.

Brianna shook her head. "She's either a risk to this team or an asset to the investigation. Either way, she's of no use to anyone stuck in there."

"The question is how do we convince her to be the latter?" Vhetin asked. "Part of me is still convinced she killed Callie just to spite us."

"I think that's a little drastic, even for her. The point is that she's too reckless. She deserted her post at the bomb site to stalk after us while we were investigating the warehouse, then let that Mandalorian changeling escape after he attacked you. Then she runs off without orders and confronts our only suspect without any authority or backup. If you ask me, Dala keeps chewing out the wrong person: she's been the one screwing up this investigation, not Denton."

Vhetin didn't respond. He stared at the white-haired woman for a few moments through the glass, observing how calm she looked. If he didn't know better, he would have never guessed she had murdered someone only a few hours ago.

He eventually shook his head and said, "I'm going to talk to her."

"What?" Brianna said. "You do remember that she... well, that she hates you?"

"I don't know," he replied. "She seemed to be warming up to me earlier."

She fixed him with a stare that said, I think you've finally gone crazy. He shrugged and said, "Well, we at least managed to hold a short conversation without trying to kill each other. I consider that progress."

"And what do you think you'll accomplish by talking to her now?"

"Maybe I can convince her to stop with these wild lone wolf attacks. If she can learn to work as part of our team, she can go back to being useful. If not, Dala will probably toss her behind bars before the day is out. Either way it's a win-win for us."

Brianna glanced between him and the Handmaiden, then said,"All right, but I'm going in there with you."

"Why?"

She hesitated. "I... don't trust her yet. And I wouldn't be surprised if she tried something stupid on you."

"You're worried she'll attack me?" He felt somewhat touched by her concern. "You do realize she's shackled to the table?"

"She's a bloody Echani. They're known to be able to pull some crazy osik. They're all trained to be killers."

"So are mando'ade."

"Yes, but Echani are... different from you guys. They're just... well, creepier."

Vhetin bit back a laugh and thought, Oya to that. "I'll be fine."

He nodded to one of the guards at the door. "Open the door. Anything happens, send Brianna in as backup."

"Kark that," Brianna said. "I'm going in with you."

"Bri-"

"Don't Bri me. I'm not leaving you alone with her and that's final."

"Sir," the guard at the door said, "we'll stay on guard out here. Anything goes wrong and we'll be in to back you up."

"Okay," Vhetin sighed. "Let's just get this over with."

The guard opened the door for them, hand on the butt of his pistol. "Good luck sir. She's been a little touchy with our investigators."

"We'll be fine," Vhetin said, stepping inside. The room was a little more than a large square of duracrete with a table and two chairs set in the center. Two large tinted observation windows were set into either wall. And sitting in the center of the room on one of the uncomfortable-looking durasteel chairs was the Handmaiden, hands cuffed to the seat behind her back. Her head was bowed and her eyes were closed. Her breathing was slow and steady and she didn't look worried that she was incarcerated.

Vhetin eased himself into the seat across from her, wincing as his stomach lurched at the sudden movement. He pushed the nausea away, knowing he'd have to purge preservative from his lungs before long.

The Handmaiden didn't open her eyes or even acknowledge their presence. Brianna glared at the Echani, then leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. Vhetin waited a few moments, then cleared his throat to get the Handmaiden's attention.

The Echani didn't move.

Vhetin glanced at Brianna, who shrugged and rolled her eyes, then cleared his throat again. He leaned closer and clearly said, "Handmaiden."

Pale blue eyes snapped open, looking up at him and regarding him coolly. After a few moments, she shook a strand of pale white hair out of her eyes and tipped her head. "Mandalorian. You are a welcome sight."

"Am I?" Vhetin said. "I find that strange. After what happened in that warehouse, I figured I'd be the last person you'd want to see."

The Handmaiden stared at him, then closed her eyes again. She lowered her head once more and murmured, "I have been in the presence of these gold-armored men and women for far too long. I wish to leave this place."

"That's not going to happen any time soon," Vhetin said.

"Oh?"

"You killed someone."

"I eliminated a threat," the Echani replied sternly. "Callie Mapular was a liar and a miscreant. She deliberately led your investigation astray."

"She was our only suspect."

"And before I silenced her, she provided us with the means to find another. She served her purpose."

"What if the name she gave had been a fake?" Brianna asked.

The blue eyes opened again and the Handmaiden's cold gaze fell on Brianna. "Was it a fake?"

"Well..." Brianna blinked, then scowled. "It could have been."

"But it wasn't. Even now, Moqena moves with her allies to take Caranthyr into custody. By silencing Callie Mapular, I may have solved your investigation single-handed, Mandalorian."

"How do you know what Jay is doing?"

The Handmaiden cracked a rare smile. "You still fail to understand? I listen, Mandalorian. Where others make assumptions or make plans for coming engagements, I observe. The realities of the present may be eliminated at any moment by the uncertainties of the future. The bombing at the shop yesterday proves that."

Vhetin had to give her that. One moment, the investigators at the shop thought they had everything under control. The next, the shop was in flames, over ten people were dead, and almost all the evidence had been destroyed. Investigations, whether on the homefront or on a bounty mission, could turn deadly within the blink of an eye. Only those with the sharpest minds and the quickest reflexes could hope to get ahead.

"But if one can learn to truly see, to observe as the children of Eshan do, one can begin to see patterns within the chaos, especially when observing the past. The past is set in stone, and every action, no matter how small, leaves an influence on the environment. These influences, if interpreted properly, can become clues that lead to the discovery of an eventuality in the future."

The Handmaiden raised her chin imperiously. "An Echani is taught to look for these clues in the present before they are lost to us. As for how I know of Moqena's location and future arrangements, I have been listening to pieces of information from the guards speaking outside my door whenever someone comes to interrogate me or visually ensure I am still their captive. Within the last few hours the number of officers checking on my have drastically decreased, meaning that their attention is focused elsewhere. My guess was that they were focusing on a much more important event, perhaps a coordinated operation. That fits in with what the officers outside my room have been speaking of.

"Finally, the fact that Moqena herself has not come to interrogate me only further supports my theory. She is gone, on a coordinated operation with these Justicars that much of this organization seems to find intensely interesting. The only operation that could so capture their attention is inevitably the hunt for Caranthyr."

She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him challengingly, gaze holding his even through his expressionless multi-colored faceplate. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smug smile. "I have managed to piece together your plan while simply sitting here, cuffed to this uncomfortable seat in your duracrete prison. One would hope our enemies are not so well informed of your intentions."

Vhetin had to admit, he was impressed. He doubted even he would have been able to piece together that much intel simply from sitting, waiting, and listening. He had many skills as a bounty hunter, but deep down he was not a patient man. At least not as patient as the Handmaiden seemed to be.

"All that aside," Vhetin said, "that doesn't change the facts. You killed Callie."

"I did."

"For whatever reasons."

"I do not deny this. I never did."

"But you can't believe you did anything wrong?"

"I did nothing I did not believe necessary. Callie's death served a purpose. Her employer can no longer operate under the belief that he can continue his butchery free of consequence."

"Somehow," Brianna muttered, "I don't think Caranthyr cares."

"But what of his men? If they fear for their lives, they may find themselves less inclined to do his bidding. The only certain way to divide your enemies is to ensure they fear you far more than they fear their own masters."

"Whether you're right or not, you still killed a suspect," Vhetin insisted. "We don't do that."

The Handmaiden let out a quick laugh, a short, harsh sound. "For such renowned warriors, I would never have guessed you Mandalorians would be so..."

She sneered before finishing, "...soft."

Vhetin sighed. "You know we're not going to let you go."

"I am of no use to you here," the Echani replied calmly. "We both know this. That is why you will release me from these bonds and allow me to return to this investigation."

Now it was Vhetin's turn to laugh. "For someone with such remarkable powers of observation, you don't seem to be able to read us Mandos so well. I'm not letting you out. Not while you're still a threat to this hunt."

He turned to the door and said, "Brianna, stay here and keep an eye on her."

"Sure thing," the huntress said, glaring at the Echani.

He leaned close to her and lowered his voice so the Handmaiden couldn't hear. "If she tries anything, make sure your weapon is set for stun. She may be dangerous, but she's Jay's friend. We'll let her figure out what to do."

Brianna looked irritated by the request, but nodded and said, "If you say so."

He nodded and put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. Then he pulled open the door and stepped outside. Just as the door shut behind him, his helmet comm buzzed. He tapped a sensor on the side of his new helmet. "This is Vhetin. State your business."

"Hey," came Jay's voice over the comm channel. "I'm glad I caught you. I don't have much time."

"Is something wrong?" he asked. She wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she reassured him, "but we're getting ready to clear out a known hub for drug trafficking."

"What do you need?"

"I need to pass on some intel to you before I go. I just got off the comm with Janada and she gave us a few new leads to work on."

"Can you tell me?"

"I'd rather not on an unsecured channel. I'll talk to you when I get back. But while you've got a quiet moment, can you do something for me?"

He didn't hesitate. "Whatever you need."

"D'harhan still hasn't checked in. It's been almost a whole day. It's not like him to vanish for so long. And with everything else that's happening..."

"You're worried something's happened to him."

"Well... yeah."

"You do realize he's basically a walking cannon? He can take care of himself."

"Just indulge me, yeah? Can you find out what's taking him so long?"

He debated with himself for a few moments. There was a lull in the action for the moment, and he had time to kill until Tobbi Dala and his team returned. With Janada tracking down leads and Brianna looking after the Handmaiden, there was time to spare looking for Jay's massive friend.

He eventually nodded. "I'll do it. Just focus on the task at hand and get back here safe. I've had about all I can take from the Handmaiden."

She laughed. "Thanks for putting up with her for so long. You never cease to amaze, Cin."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Good luck."

"See you soon."

Downtown Keldabe, 0845 hours

"Breach!"

The charge on the door blew inward with a roar, sending the thick metal door flying inward. A thick cloud of smoke erupted out the door, wafting over Tobbi Dala and his team. Jay grimaced instinctively before remembering that a thick barrier of beskar and transparisteel separated her eyes from the dirt and smoke. Her HUD automatically switched over the scanner mode, picking out the shapes of the rest of the team from the swirling smoke.

She could hear shouts of surprise from inside and a few stray blaster bolts slashed through the open door. The Mandos flanking the entrance flinched away from the fire. Dala hefted his rifle as the dust began to settle and called, "Count off!"

A burly Mando in slate-gray plates held up three fingers. The man across from him nodded and shouted back, "Three! Two! One!"

"Fire in the hole!"

The big soldier primed an hourglass-shaped flashbang grenade and lobbed it through the door. After the space of a heartbeat, there was a bright flash of white light and screams from inside. Denton grew tense just ahead in line, flexing his grip on his police pistol.

"Go!" Dala suddenly roared. "Go, go, go!"

The Mandos charged into the building, moving down the line that flanked the entrance. The first two disappeared inside and blaster fire began echoing from within the building. Dala charged in next, with a battle cry of, "Par Manda'yaim bal Mand'alor!"

"Come on!" Denton shouted to her as he slipped through the door behind Dala. Jay sprinted after him, moving slower than usual because of her heavy armor. She entered just behind Denton, raising her rifle in preparation. Her HUD flashed as it switched back to its normal scanning mode, giving her a clear view of a perfect hell.

The main room of the herb shop was a two-story lobby: a large open shop floor with display cases full of medicinal herbs, with two rickety-looking staircases on either side of the room leading up to a large balcony above. Between the railings above and the displays below, there was plenty of cover for almost twenty hostiles inside. The officers already inside had taken up position behind a few counters and had overturned display tables to use as cover. The large Mandalorian didn't even bother, simply standing at the front lines and picking off hostiles with quick, well-placed stun rounds to the legs, arms, or throat.

"Gundark!" Dala shouted, using the man's codename rather than his actual one. "Riot shield!"

The burly man yanked a huge rectangular beskar shield off his back, hooking his arm through the thick leather straps and slamming it down to the ground. He crouched behind it and motioned with a jerk of his head. Dala moved out from behind cover, taking position behind the burly Mando and firing out a few shots.

"Barricade squad!" he ordered. "Move up!"

Five more Mandos with identical riot shields moved forward, making a protective U to shield Dala and the others from incoming fire. Together, they made an impenetrable wall of metal to block all incoming fire. Denton punched Jay's shoulder and shouted, "Come on!"

They moved up, keeping below the edge of the shields to avoid stray fire. The six members of the barricade squad were returning fire with tight, controlled shots through small apertures in the front of their shields. One Mando grimaced as a lucky shot flashed through the opening and ricocheted off his helmet.

Jay was breathing hard as she joined the other officers taking cover behind the shield wall. Her heavy beskar armor was slowing her down, wearing her out faster than usual. She was sweating under her armor, but the atmospheric control system in her suit was keeping the temperature cool. The recycled air wasn't helping either. She wanted nothing else but to yank her helmet off and take a deep breath of fresh air. As more and more blaster fire began bouncing away off the shields, she knew that was a bad idea.

"Barricades!" Dala shouted, "move up! Box 'em in!"

The officers shifted their balance, preparing to move forward. One of the officers banged his pistol against the shield, making a loud clang, clang, clang. He let out an inarticulate roar and the warrior next to him shouted, "This is it boys! Slow and steady wins the race!"

"Oya!" the rest of the officers shouted. The cry went up and down the line, then in a coordinated motion they took one slow step forward. The officers behind kept close to the wall, waiting while the frontline officers advanced.

"Give us all you got, you osik'kove!" one of the nearby Mandos suddenly shouted. He let out a cackle as blaster bolts started to bounce off his shield. The man lobbed a flashbang grenade out from behind his shield. Moments later a blinding white blast lit up the stairwell.

"Three contacts down!"

"Take 'em out!"

Several stun rounds flashed out through the shield barricade and a rallying cheer went up and down the shield wall. The six members of the barricade division took another coordinated step forward. One more step and three officers taking cover behind the barricade reached through the shield wall and grabbed the downed hostiles, dragging them back to their side of the battlefield. Three pairs of binders flashed out and the restrained drug dealers were dragged out of the building.

"Doing okay?" Denton shouted, flag-like rangefinder slid down into scanning mode. He had to shout over the screams and blasterfire of the drug dealers as he and Jay fired unsuccessfully at a knot of hostiles taking cover behind an overturned display table. All she could do was nod. Her heart was pounding too fast and her HUD was flashing information at her too quickly to read. She grimaced and deactivated the non-essential readouts on the head's-up display.

"Great!" she shouted back. "Having the time of my life!"

Dala let out a bark of laughter from further down the line. How he managed to hear her was anyone's guess. "Not like bounty hunting is it?"

"Not really," Jay fired back. "If it was like bounty hunting, I'd be facing all these guys alone!"

Denton threw his head back and laughed, while Dala just growled and said, "Yeah, yeah. You think you're so clever, smartass."

"Watch and learn," she said. She stood, raising her rifle and firing at the nearest two hostiles. They dropped where they stood and were quickly dragged behind the barricade line by the two nearest officers. Another shot, another fallen hostile. She dodged an incoming shot, then grabbed a flashbang grenade from her belt, primed it, and hurled it over the shield wall. It bounced off the far wall and exploded, knocking hostiles off their feet but not incapacitating any of them.

Somewhere on the balcony above them a door flew open and more hostiles stormed into the fight. The barricade line had to fall back a few steps; the enemy had the high ground now.

Jay winced as a blaster bolt skimmed over the nearest shield, far too close for comfort. "How are we doing?"

Dala hazarded a glance over the shield wall. "These shabuire are putting up a good fight. A few are stunned, but most are still standing."

The barricade line took another slow step forward, then another. Their enemies, in contrast, fell back further and further as the attacking officers blocked their escape and forced them to the back of the shop. The hostile force became more and more desperate and blaster shots began flying back and forth faster and faster.

A gray armored enforcement officer flinched back and fell to the ground when a blaster shot hit him square in the throat. The trooper next to him cursed and ducked behind the shield wall to drag him to safety, out of the firing line. One of the troopers turned ever so slightly to look for the source of the commotion and a bright red blaster bolt hit him just under his shield arm. He screamed and fell to his knees, creating a massive gap in the barricade line. Nearby Mandos stood to fill the gap with outgoing fire. Jay was about to stand and fire as well when a small orb sailed through the barricade line and bounced across the duracrete floor. It came to a halt, spinning slowly while a small red light began flashing. Jay cursed and shouted "Frag!"

Without really thinking, she leaped after the thermal detonator, scooped it up, and threw it back in the direction from which it came. The grenade hit an enemy Mandalorian in the chest before exploding in a wash of red-orange fire and sending the man flying. Other hostiles leaped away from the burst of fire and shrapnel, giving the enforcement officers time to drop them with precise shots from the barricade line. In moments, they had whittled down the enemy to less than eleven men.

"Backup!" Dala shouted when another barricade trooper was felled by a shot to the leg. "Send in the backup!"

With a roar, six more barricade troopers stormed through the door, followed closely by ten more blaster-wielding officers. Dala nodded to them, then tapped his comm unit and said, "Team Two, are you ready?"

"Ready and able," came the response over the team channel. "Just give the word."

Dala waited a half moment, then shouted, "Now!"

The skylight high above shattered inward and four Mandos on rappel lines jumped down through the opening, lighting up the room with blue-white stun bolts. Hostiles leaped for cover and the few that were left out in the open were knocked down by the incoming attack.

"Mandalorians!" Dala shouted over the commotion. "Get ready!"

"Oya!" came the dutiful response. The barricade line stopped its steady march forward, the officers tensing their legs and preparing to charge. Team 2 continued their descent, firing at anything that dared move out from cover.

Denton put a hand on Jay's shoulder and shouted, "Are you ready for this?"

She grinned behind her faceplate and reloaded her weapon. "I've done crazier things."

"Remember that remark when we're all done here," he replied. "After things get really crazy."

"Mando'ade!" Dala finally roared. "Forward!"

The barricade line broke as the officers surged forward and all hell broke loose.

Oyu'baat Tapcaf, Keldabe, 0900 hours

"You're sure?"

"Aye," Aramis replied as he rubbed tiny flecks of dust from the inside of a chipped drinking mug. "Haven't seen him since you an' Moqena touched down the other day. And with a gun like he's got, I've been keepin' tabs. Trust me."

Vhetin nodded, patting the bartop reassuringly. "I do trust you Aramis. Will you keep sending out feelers? Any info I can get would be useful."

The old bartender nodded, a grim look on his gaunt and faded face. "Aye. You've been a good customer, Stripes. It's the least I could do."

"Vor'e," Vhetin said, then turned to leave. As he drew away from the bar, Aramis' voice called him back.

"Hey Vhetin. Be careful out there. City's goin' crazy. It'd be wise to keep your wits about you."

Vhetin nodded. "I always have my wits about me."

Then he strode away from the bar, to where Venku was leaning against the wall waiting for him. The young Mandalorian nodded to him in greeting as Vhetin stepped through the front doors of the tapcaf and into the plaza outside. Venku was right on his heels.

"So what's the news?" he asked. "Any intel on your big alien buddy?"

"None," Vhetin said grimly, squinting against the sudden glare of the morning sun. His helmet quickly tinted against the light to protect his vision. His eyes were very sensitive – a side-effect of the synthetic illness still raging through his system – so he increased the tint setting even more until his head stopped throbbing. He grimaced at the unfamiliar HUD and controls of his new helmet.

He had to admit, though the armor was ugly as a rancor's backside, his new suit did boast vastly increased systems when compared to his older kit. The HoloNet uplink module was hardened against hacking attempts and was almost twice as strong as his personal model, allowing him an almost instantaneous secure uplink to the galaxy-spanning datanet. His HUD's scanner was also much more powerful and offered almost three times the variety of both audio and visual scanning frequencies – something he was sure would come in very useful in future hunts. Janada had boasted that the scanner could even pick up pheromone signatures from the other side of thick duracrete walls, but he had yet to test that setting.

Besides the new software, the armor itself seemed much more durable than his previous suit. The plates were made of a plastoid-phrik alloy coated in a heavy layer of almost-impenetrable Mandalorian beskar. The specifications were different than what he had asked for when he had given Janada his plans for his new suit, but the armor felt more than capable of stopping general weapons fire. He was eager to test it out in real combat.

But the real masterpiece of his new suit were his gauntlet spring-blades: a double-edged, arm-length beskar shortsword mounted into the housing of each gauntlet. At the blink of an eye, the blades could flip out of their housing like traditional switchblade knives and a sturdy handgrip would slide from his gauntlet into his palm, giving him tight control over the blades. In a heated combat situation, the blades would be invaluable and could very well mean the difference between life and death for their wielder.

Yes, he thought he could live with the temporary cosmetic ugliness of the suit and the moderate discomfort the new armor brought. Though his old suit was comfy and "broken in," he couldn't begin to imagine what he was capable of with his new armor.

He brought his thoughts back to the present and continued, "There's been no sign of D'harhan since Jay sent out the call to bring him in. She's worried that something's happened to him."

Venku let out a laugh. "To him? I doubt it."

"Anything is possible."

"The guy is nine feet tall, Vhetin. With a cannon on his head that could rival anything packed on a mid-sized fighter. He could knock a TIE fighter out of the sky with one shot!"

"Sometimes," Vhetin said as they moved past the Kelita River Waterfall to their right, "the most dangerous enemies are the small ones. The ones you don't see coming until it's too late."

"True," Venku admitted. "But the smaller the enemy, the easier they are to kill."

"Not always."

Venku sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I still think he'll be fine. He's got plenty of firepower to hold his own in a firefight. He's good, at least for an aruetii."

"No one is invincible," Vhetin said. "And if someone managed to find a way to bring the big guy down, our job just got a lot more dangerous."

"I say let him go," Venku said with a sudden scowl. "He has no place on Mandalore."

"You think so?"

"He's dangerous and he's an aruetii. That's all I need to be convinced he doesn't belong here."

Vhetin glanced over at the young Mandalorian and frowned. "Jay seems to trust him."

"Yeah, well Jay isn't one of us," Venku replied matter-of-factly. "Of course she would trust him."

Vhetin frowned deeper. Venku seemed angrier and more tense than usual. He had always spoken out against the encroachment of aruetii foreigners in Mandalorian affairs, but those feelings had never before been directed at Jay.

It was no secret that Venku was attracted to Vhetin's partner, though Jay had apparently made it clear the feeling was not mutual. Maybe that was the cause of the young man's irritation, but it still made Vhetin uneasy. "Are you okay, vod?"

Venku blinked rapidly as if startled from thought. "Hm? What do you mean?"

Vhetin shrugged. "I've never heard you talk about Jay like that. Did something happen between the two of you?"

He shook his head. "No. I probably shouldn't have said that. I'm just... well, tense."

"I understand."

Venku glanced over as they passed a small knot of gray-armored Mandalorians arguing with a stormtrooper about registration papers. Vhetin decided not to get involved and quickly moved on to the barrier wall checkpoint further ahead. After a slight delay from the overly stubborn Imperials at the fortified gate, they passed through as they headed to their next location.

Venku spat a curse at the Imperials as they passed through and muttered, "Kriffing aruetiise. Scumming up our city and strutting around like they own the place."

"What can we do?" Vhetin sighed. "The Imperials will do what they always do. Not even we can keep them from sticking their noses in our affairs."

Venku shook his head. "Skulking around our own city is not the Mandalorian way."

"Oh?" Vhetin said, glancing over at his companion. Something was definitely wrong with Venku. It went beyond simply the young man being tense. He decided to play along, at least for the moment. "And what would be the Mandalorian way to deal with them?"

"Rise up," Venku muttered with a glare. "Drive them out. Act like kriffing warriors for once instead of those weakling pacifists that live out in the desert. Cowering in their stupid dome-cities and refusing to keep with the traditions of our ancestors..."

"I say let the aruetiise live they way they want to," Vhetin said. "Right now the Imperials are an annoyance, but they aren't actively prohibiting us from anything we do. As long as they leave us free to go about our business, I say we let them go about theirs. It's not our place to close the city to people."

"Mandalore," Venku muttered, "is for Mandalorians, remember?"

"Mandalore is one big giant refugee camp," Vhetin said. "A haven for people who have lost their way. I was the same when I arrived here. I was an aruetii just like them, and I converted. It was the best decision of my life. Don't you want to give others the chance to make the same decision?"

"What, so since you started out an aruetii, you're now going all sympathetic?" Venku demanded. "You do remember whose side you're on, right?"

"Side?" Vhetin echoed. "I didn't know that we were taking sides all of a sudden."

"Oh yeah, vod," Venku said. "Mark my words. You'll want to choose a side before long. And when you do, make sure you remember who your real friends are. Mando'ade, not some two-faced traitor aruetiise."

Vhetin frowned and thought, enough is enough. He nudged Venku's arm and pointed to a nearby alleyway. "Let's take a shortcut. My next contact is nearby."

They moved into the alleyway, Venku moving slowly, unsure of Vhetin's intentions. "This isn't any shortcut I've seen. Just a dead-end alley."

Vhetin stopped and turned back to his friend. "Look, Venku. We've known each other for the last three years, right? Ever since Aramis introduced us."

"Right," Venku agreed. "So?"

"So you'd tell me if there was anything wrong, yeah?"

"We're vode," Venku said, nodding. He cracked a slight grin. "Aramis does have a tendency to make good connections between mando'ade."

Vhetin nodded. "That's what I thought."

Before Venku could move, Vhetin triggered his gauntlet-mounted spring-blades and thrust his arms forward, stabbing the arm-length shortswords into the unarmored spot underneath Venku's arms. The young man let out a scream of pain and grabbed at Vhetin's shoulders in shock.

"Aah! Wh... Why?!" he screamed, blood soaking his flight suit.

"Because Venku and I met seven years ago, not three," Vhetin said, pushing against the blades so they sank deeper into Venku's chest. His face was pulled back in a furious scowl. "And Gotab introduced us, not Aramis. The real Venku would know that."

Venku screamed again and struggled to break free. Vhetin pushed him more securely against the wall.

"Which begs the question," he growled, "who are you?"

In an instant, Venku stopped screaming. His expression of pain was replaced by a nonchalant, almost bored expression. He let out a long sigh and said, "Well, I guess you caught me."

Then he surged forward, smashing his forehead against Vhetin's helmet. Vhetin recoiled, more out of surprise than pain. "Venku" took advantage of the distraction to yank the spring-blades from under his arms and shove his attacker away. Vhetin quickly regained his balance, dropping into a battle-ready combat crouch.

Imposter Venku grimaced and stretched, rotating his arms with a grunt. Vhetin could see the bloodstains where his blades had pierced the younger Mando's body, but the wounds didn't seem to be bothering him. It almost seemed like he hadn't been hurt at all.

"Yeah," the Mando sighed, "one great thing about being able to shift the basic structure of your entire biological makeup is that you can shift your wounds back shut. Comes in handy in situations like this. Gods, I love being a changeling."

Vhetin let out a snarl. "Caranthyr. Nice to see you again."

"Good guess," Fake Venku said. He grinned widely, a perfect match of the real Venku's easygoing grin. "I had you going there for a while, though, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Vhetin snapped. "Right up until you started spouting Mando-First osik. Nice trick until that point."

"Glad you think so," Fake Venku chuckled. "But that's not the only trick up my sleeve."

In an instant, Venku's face began to bubble and twitch, as if the surface of his skin was boiling. The skin flexed and began to stretch in unfamiliar ways, his hair growing longer and darker, his eyes shifting hue. Vhetin found himself caught between the desire to attack and fascination at what he was seeing.

After a few moments, Fake Venku wasn't there anymore. In his place was a much thinner man, with a gaunt, ugly face, dark brown eyes, long stringy brown hair, and a crooked nose. As Vhetin stared, even Venku's armor began to shift and change. The bright, multi-colored plates began to blend together and mix into a muddy brown. As Caranthyr pulled his helmet over his head, the colors shifted and cleared to reveal dark blue plates with lighter gray trim. He drew a curved beskar sword from his belt and held it up in a balanced defensive stance.

"Funny," Caranthyr said, studying the blade intently. "Moqena's pissing away her time halfway across the city when I'm sneaking around right under her nose. Too bad her partner went missing and wasn't able to warn her about what's coming."

Vhetin raised his gauntlet spring-blades, clenching his fists anxiously. He darted forward with a careful, exploratory slash that Caranthyr easily parried. A few more easy blows and Vhetin fell back, confident that he had a good grasp of the changeling's strengths and weaknesses. Caranthyr was trained in the traditional Mandalorian combat form. He was good, but he had very obvious flaws in his technique.

Vhetin adjusted his grip on the shortsword handles and growled, "What's coming? What are you talking about?"

"Oh... I just may have heard a rumor," Caranthyr said casually. He brought his blade down in a heavy two-handed blow that almost sent Vhetin staggering. He was obviously not willing to wait and test his opponent's defenses. Vhetin regained his balance and crossed his blades in a defensive X across his chest. He caught Caranthyr's blade between his gauntlet knives and held it there. Caranthyr grunted as he shoved against the lock. "A rumor that you were out looking for that brute D'harhan. Too bad for you I found him first."

"Liar," Vhetin snapped. He thrust his gauntlet blades away and stabbed forward, but Caranthyr danced away easily. He flipped his sword around and brought it forward in a powerful slash at Vhetin's throat. Vhetin caught the sword with his blade and knocked it away.

"The best part is,"Caranthyr sneered, "by the time your partner knows what hit her, it'll be too late. You see, D'harhan and I came to... an understanding. And when he's finished at that drug outpost, the city coroner won't be able to even ID what's left of your partner's body."

"No!" Vhetin lashed out with a heavy kick to Caranthyr's chest. The changeling staggered away, his back hitting the wall. Vhetin stepped forward and slammed his shoulder into his opponent's chest, smashing him against the wall. Caranthyr grunted and smashed his helmet forward against Vhetin's forehead, sending Vhetin staggering back. Caranthyr took one step forward and hit Vhetin with a powerful kick to the chest plates that sent him staggering.

He landed hard on his back, then pulled himself back into a reverse somersault and came up onto his feet. He was just in time to block an incoming thrust from Caranthyr. Vhetin shoved the blade to the left, throwing his blue-armored opponent away. He pivoted on one heel and slashed down Caranthyr's back plate, barely scratching the metal.

They fought back and forth across the alley. Sometimes Vhetin took the upper hand but just when he thought victory was within his grasp, Caranthyr would counter with a surprise attack that would even the odds. Before long they were both bleeding from a multitude of shallow slash and stab wounds to their chest and arms. In that regard Caranthyr had a definite advantage; every time Vhetin landed a blow, the wound would heal in a matter of moments.

This is getting seriously irritating, Vhetin thought as he hit Caranthyr with a stab through the thigh that made the man double over in pain. Vhetin was much fitter than the past few months but he couldn't stand up to a changeling with some kind of supercharged healing ability. To prove his point, Caranthyr quickly recovered and thrust a fist forward, hitting Vhetin square in his unarmored throat before he could raise his guard.

Vhetin backpedaled and fell to his knees, sheathing one gauntlet blade in order to clutch at his throat. He coughed and gasped, struggling to catch his breath. Caranthyr didn't press the attack, rubbing at his shoulder where Vhetin had landed a blow so powerful it had knocked his shoulder plate right off his body.

Vhetin finally managed to suck a breath into his burning lungs. He rose to his feet and ejected his spring-blade, once again ready to fight.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "You're a Mandalorian, like me."

"No," Caranthyr snarled, slashing down with his blade with three powerful strokes. "Not like you. Better. Stronger. More willing to do what is necessary."

Vhetin blocked all three blows, driven back by the power of the attack until his jetpack knocked against the brick wall behind him. He eventually caught Caranthyr's sword on his blade and shoved the blue-armored man away.

"And just what..." Vhetin panted, lowering his guard momentarily, "do you think is necessary?"

"It's no secret," Caranthyr snarled. He was breathing hard as well and holding a hand to his side, furiously trying to catch his breath. "Our brethren today are weakened by their own ideas of right and wrong. That worthless piece of parchment you call the Supercommando Codex is holding us back from everything we could be. All because the few in power fear the strength of the many."

The words made Vhetin's blood run cold. "Who told you this? Who put these crazy ideas into your thick skull?"

"She's beyond your reach, bounty hunter," Caranthyr chuckled. "But she's eager to see what you and your so-called friends will try in order to stop her."

Vhetin scowled behind his helmet and dashed forward, slashing again and again. Caranthyr seemed surprised by his sudden violence and was driven back under the onslaught. He tried to turn to get out of Vhetin's path, but only succeeded in putting himself between his opponent and the brick wall behind him; a fatal mistake.

Vhetin grinned in satisfaction. Caranthyr was tiring. He was a hearty fighter and a skilled swordsman, but he didn't possess the stamina or strength of a Salpatian Kiffar. Vhetin was biologically superior and it was only a matter of time before Vhetin wore him down.

Vhetin saw an opening and took it. He took a sturdy step forward and drove his other knee into Caranthyr's gut. The changeling was shoved back against the brick wall, barely able to keep up his defense.

Caranthyr hit him with a surprise slash to the arm that tore open Vhetin's flight suit. Vhetin flinched and Caranthyr tried to duck out of range. Vhetin moved too fast, though, and stabbed his gauntlet blade through his opponent's bicep, pinning his arm to the wall behind him. Caranthyr cried out in pain and his blade dropped from limp fingers. His sword clattered loudly against the damp duracrete sidewalk at their feet.

Caranthyr grunted and punched at Vhetin's helmet with his good arm. Vhetin easily shook off the blow and yanked his blade free before stabbing both arm-length swords between the gaps in Caranthyr's chest plates, sinking the blades right through Caranthyr's heart. The changeling let out a weak groan and grabbed at Vhetin's arms, blood soaking his flight suit. Vhetin dragged him closer, until they were only inches apart, then ripped off his opponent's helmet and let it bounce down the alley. He slammed his forehead against Caranthyr's bared face, stunning the man so he couldn't fight back. There was a gut-wrenching crack as Caranthyr's nose broke under the force of the blow. It didn't instantly mend itself, which gave Vhetin a dark sense of satisfaction. So there was a limit to Caranthyr's healing powers. Cuts and bruises could heal themselves, but broken bones couldn't knit themselves back together.

"The game is over, Caranthyr," he hissed. "I don't think your fancy healing trick will help if I cut your kriffing head off. Talk."

The changeling whimpered but said nothing. Vhetin dug the spring-blades in deeper and snarled, "Who are you working for?"

"K-kriff... you."

Vhetin drew one blade out, then stabbed it through Caranthyr's chest plates again. "Talk! What's your next target?"

"N-not what..." Caranthyr gasped. He laughed, blood pouring from his broken nose and leaking from the corners of his mouth. "B-but who."

"Then who?" Vhetin said. He drew one bloodstained spring-blade out of Caranthyr's chest and held it to the man's throat. "Tell me now or I swear to to Manda you'll be dead in the next thirty seconds."

"S-... Sh-... Shysa," Caranthyr gasped, holding back pained laughter. "F-Fenn Shysa. Mandalore the Meek."

Vhetin faltered, his blade hesitating for a long, blood-chilling moment. Caranthyr saw his shock and let out a weak chuckle. "And the best part is... there's nothing you can do to stop it."

He threw his head back and began to let out wheezing laughter. Vhetin's shock was quickly washed away by fury. He clenched a fist and pulled his other blade free, then crossed his arms across his chest and slashed horizontally. His blades bit deep into Caranthyr's unarmored neck, unleashing a spray of warm blood. Caranthyr's eyes flew wide with dismay as he sputtered and clutched his throat. Vhetin immediately sheathed his flip-blades and turned away, punching in a dialing code for Jay's comm. Whether she was in the middle of a firefight or not, she needed this information.

He sent the dialing code to his HUD, then turned back to Caranthyr and pulled a pair of electro-shock binders from his belt. The changeling was tricky. Vhetin couldn't safely assume the man was dead, and he wasn't going to give Caranthyr any chances. He rolled the corpse onto its front, then yanked his arms behind his back and cuffed him. He kicked the body just once for good measure, then finished dialing out. He was just about to press the send button when a voice from the end of the alley shouted, "Hey! You there!"

Vhetin turned to find two gold-armored enforcement officers walking toward him, hands cautiously resting on their weapons. Vhetin let out a relieved sigh and said, "I'm glad you guys are here. Can you come and give me a hand with this?"

Before he could move, the two officers had drawn their weapons and trained them on him. The taller officer stepped toward him and yelled, "Put your hands in the air! Now!"

"What?"

"Hands in the air!" the shorter officer shouted. "Get on your knees. Do it!"

"Wait, wait!" Vhetin said. "I'm on your side! I was just-"

The tall officer fired, hitting him in the chest with a high-powered stun round. Vhetin staggered back with a grunt, feeling lightning crackle up his arms. His head spun, his fingers twitching erratically. He shook off the effects and shouted, "Osik, man! What the hell? I told you-"

Another shot, this one powerful enough to knock him to his knees. He clutched at his burning chest, breathing hard. His instincts screamed at him to rip of his helmet and suck in a lungful of unfiltered air, but years of training stayed his hand. He fought to rise to his knees again and said, "Hey! I-"

A third shot, straight to the helmet, knocked him on his back. His muscles seized up, preventing him from getting to his feet again, as his HUD sparked and stuttered with interference. He couldn't fight back as the short officer rolled him over and cuffed his hands behind his back, just as Vhetin done with Caranthyr's corpse moments before.

"I'm with you!" Vhetin shouted as he was restrained. "Put a call through to Dala and-"

The officer slammed his helmet forward against the pavement. The gesture was meant to silence him, not harm him. To that end, it was effective; Vhetin grimaced at the salty taste of his now-cut lip and fell silent.

The taller officer, meanwhile, was calling in for backup. Vhetin listened intently while the short man cuffed his arms.

"Officer Icale," the man was saying, "Identification Number Two-Two-Five-Nine, reporting a Tango-Three Eight in Quad Six. I need backup and a medical team. We have shots fired and an officer down. Repeat, officer down."

Officer down? Vhetin thought. There were no other officers here. Unless...

Then he glanced over at Caranthyr and saw that he had once again changed. Instead of a gaunt, ugly man with stringy brown hair, he now had short-cropped blond hair with strong cheekbones and a wide chin. His armor color had also shifted from blue-gray to the reflective gold of the enforcement office. While Vhetin watched, the changeling opened one blue eye and subtly smiled at him. He winked, then closed his eyes and played dead once again.

"No!" Vhetin shouted as he was pulled to his feet. He struggled against his shackles as he was led away. "No, no, no! It's a lie! This is just what he wants you to do!"

Then he was pulled away, toward a waiting police speeder.