Chapter 21

Iotra/ 19 BBY/ 2 months after Contingency Order: 66

The flight from Dxun to the edge of the galaxy had stretched to around nine hours onboard the Cuy'val Dar. Keilbourn had spent much of his time seated at the helm of his beloved ship. The cockpit strangely enough was abandoned by the four other Mandalorian passengers onboard, giving him solitary time. As his eyes softly gazed out into the swirl of stars, his mind worked overtime, conjuring thoughts and memories. Few of his thoughts revolved around the relationship he shared with his brother Sev. They'd been at each other's sides now for well over a month, fighting, training and surviving. Keilbourn could easily say he trusted Sev more than any other being in the galaxy. In his mind he was able to tell himself, without a doubt, he could put his own life in Sev's hands and nothing contended that feeling. For the most part however, Keilbourn thought of Iella and when he did, emotion swelled in him. What her feelings toward him were, he struggled to define. Keilbourn was a being bred for a completely other purpose; there'd been no flash training in the complexity of love on Kamino. On the other hand, he in particular was different than most Clones in the sense of his overdeveloped compassion; which made it slightly easier for him than his grimmer companion. One thing however, was certain, he wanted above all things to bring Iella back home, safe. He knew she was no damsel in distress, but he still wanted her back. Sev, Cautiss, Deljo and Falin had all found their own ways of keeping busy. Deljo and Falin occupied themselves by either eating or taking quick naps. Cautiss took great care and precision is sharpening every one of his blades to pristine perfection. Sev had watched in amazement for the first few minutes as the Mandalorian had taken two knives from his boots, two from the back of his belt and one long serrated knife which he had strapped down on his chest. Sev however took particular interest in the fifteen thin, razor sharp throwing blades which were stored in special mechanisms in each gauntlet.

"So how does that thing work?" he'd asked with awe on his face. Cautiss grinned with pride as he lifted the brown gauntlet to Sev's reach.

"That slot there," he said, tapping the thin, coin sized slot at the edge of the gauntlet. "The blades revolve around stacked inside. All I have to do is activate it from my helmet's interface and the blade slides into my palm ready to throw in between someone's eyes."

When Keilbourn finally called out to them from the cockpit, the Freighter was nearly seconds away from leaving hyperspace. The ship shuddered ever so slightly as it left the swirling tunnel of hyperspace and jolted to real space. Not too far off, the planet laid in the field of stars. Keilbourn directed the freighter towards the Iotra, reminiscing through its likeness to a smaller, less active Coruscaunt. Wherever the grey, discordant areas of industrialized cities didn't cover the surface, patches of brown desert took over.

"So anyone have any ideas on a plan?" Sev asked gruffly. Falin scoffed as he stood up straight, leaning against the wall.

"Sev, you still got some to learn about Mandalorians." Sev frowned. "Hardly anything goes according to plan, so what's the use. I say we go in and just fly over, do a little recon," the Mandalorian suggested. Sev shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back to the window.

"Never said no to a little recon," he grinned. Keilbourn shrugged as well before directing his ship to the planet. Contemplating about the analysis they'd organized earlier in the main hold, he directed his ship towards a patch of the brown desert. Within a matter of a few short minutes, the Cuy'val Dar had breached the atmosphere, soaring at a leisurely speed above the vast desert staying up in the air high enough to not yet cast a shadow. As the former ARC focused through the window, Sev and the rest focused on the surveillance view screen. The sun high in the orange sky burned a radiant light which flared time to time on the window.

"Any leads?" Keilbourn inquired, maneuvering the ship without breaking its course.

"Nope," Deljo blurted in annoyance.

"Wait, there," Sev exclaimed. Cautiss leaned in closer on the view screen above the empty copilot's chair. "There's some kind of activity down there," Sev explained. His well trained eyes fixed on where he saw a movement of the desert. As the ship closed in, the image became clearer.

"It's a traveler," Falin observed.

"No it's a skiff!" Keilbourn blurted. On the screen from above, they saw a large, rusty sleek boat-like repulsor-craft, shredding through the brown sand as if it were water. The wake of sand from behind threw up a huge billowing dust cloud. From what they could see, the craft had been sloppily refitted to the user's needs. In the rear of the craft, was a metal cabin like structure. From their view on the screen, they spied four beings posted on the deck of the craft manning turrets posted on the side rails and piloting the vehicle. Sev growled in his throat as he observed the skiff.

"Slavers," he roared with hate.

Cautiss too watched the screen with loathing in his gaze.

"Keilbourn get me in low," Falin requested as he turned away. "I got an idea." Sev had followed him to the main hold and listened as the Mandalorian in red detailed his plan. He reached back to check his vibrosword was still in place. The two secured their helmets back onto their heads; it was time to work. Sev held his X-45 in his hands, standing on the edge of the deck as Falin boldly stepped to the edge of the closed ramp. Sev had given the Mandalorian the frequency of the ships communications interface.

"Alright Keilbourn, let down the ramp," he said with a gruff eagerness. The mechanism whirred and the ramp lowered. Falin stabilized himself; one hand gripping the right hydraulic column, the other flexing open and closed in anticipation. Sev knelt off to the Mandalorian's left, with his sniper shouldered and ready. "Take me down," he called out from the comlink in his helmet. On cue, the Freighter descended closer to the desert ground. Falin eyed the skiff and its passengers. The ship stayed above from behind them, making use of the dust cloud as it soared in the same direction and speed as its prey. Falin waited just a bit longer before deciding the time was right. He leapt from the edge of the ramp, through the air in a fifteen foot freefall. From over the coms, he heard Sev give the order.

"Punch it Keilbourn, bring me around!" As Falin sailed through the drop, the freighter sped forward before banking sharply, facing the skiff. Sev reacted quickly, scoping in on the operator of the skiff and firing a precise bolt through the opening of the ramp. The blast struck the being in the leg. The two Mandalorians timed their attack perfectly. Just as the skiff's speed faulted, Falin landed on the deck of the skiff, crashing into a roll on the impact. He rolled up to the alarmed Slaver manning the starboard turret, slicing him down mid draw of his sword. To the Mandalorian's surprise, the craft wasn't manned by Zygerrians. Instead of the feline beasts, he faced leathery-skinned beings wearing heavy rags and bandoliers. Its face appeared like a skull with the rugged skin pulled tight against the skeleton; it was a Sanyassan. Black blood spurt from where he struck the alien onto his red armor. From above, Sev timed his jump precisely, launching off the edge just as the freighter soared over the rear of the craft. Sev landed on the hard metal cabin, clanging as he rolled too far, tumbling down to the deck. Recovering immediately, Sev seized the control of the skiff, franticly pulling on the thrusting bars, all the while keeping the wounded Sanyassan down with his boot on its throat. Dazed yet ready, the other two Sanyassans drew blaster rifles and fired away at Falin. The superbly trained warrior out-performed the beings, leaping away from their shots and closing in on them. Falin sliced clean through the Sanyassan's leg then caught the tumbling being and used it as a shield against the remaining gunner. After a stream of lazy, timid shots, Falin spun out from behind the burn marked body, lunging his Vibrosword clean into the last Slaver. By the time seeing the scrimmage was over, Sev disengaged the craft, allowing it to halt abruptly.

"Got a live one here," Sev announced. Falin ran to the control platform. Sev relieved the being of his boot, instead dragging it upright against the controls. In terror, it began to shriek and growl guttural exclamations.

"Shut it," Falin snapped. "You speak basic?"

"Little," the Sanyassan gurgled.

"I got a question for you, your reward; you don't die, fair enough?" Sev threatened. Vigorously, the being nodded its leathery, sickly head.

"Good. The Zygerrians, I know they're here. Where do they hide?" Falin demanded.

"I-uh, in desert," it finally mustered. Falin brought up his sword, brandishing its blade, lathered in the thick black blood of its comrades

"Be more specific or your blood with mix with theirs," the Mandalorian growled, thrusting the edge of the blade up against its throat. The Sanyassan shrieked in terror.

"Here, here desert!" it shrieked. "Ahead!" Sev reached to his belt with his free hand and extracted a handheld device which he laid in his gloved palm. With a tap of his thumb, the device came to life, emitting a primitive projection of a topographical map with a hundred mile radius.

"Point it out," Sev demanded. The Sanyassan gasped in panic as its four fingered hand rose and pointed to a location just to the east of the tiny location marking. Sev pulled the map away then pressed his thumb in the space where the Iotran had indicated. Falin eased slightly on the Sanyassan's throat. "Keilbourn, we got it," he said into the com. Keilbourn banked the Freighter around to return to the skiff's location. As Sev gazed up at the ship which descended yards from them, Falin flicked his wrist, slicing the blade's edge into the Sanyassan's throat. In a stream of blood it gurgled and died. Sev gave no mind; he hated Slavers more than anything else in the galaxy. Still onboard the skiff, the two Mandalorians watched as the other three clomped down the ramp and ran to the rested skiff, hovering just two feet over the ground. Cautiss clambered aboard first followed by Deljo then Keilbourn. Sev produced the hologenerator, thumbing on the device.

"There," he said after activating the map. "Right smack dab in the middle of the desert." Observing the projection, Cautiss shook his head and swore.

"Middle of the desert, we'd be spotted in an instant," he grumbled.

"Yep," Falin exclaimed before clapping his hand on Cautiss' armored shoulder. "So how's your Sanyassan?" he mused.

"You're kidding," Deljo blurted. Keilbourn grinned from behind his helmet.

"Actually, I've done some undercover work for some time," the former ARC boasted. "We've got what we need and it'd get us into the trading post without stirring some suspicion." Down near the rear, Deljo examined the large metal cabin fitted at the rear of the skiff. He quickly removed his blue Mandalorian helmet then pressed his bare ear up against the searing metal of the cabin. His eyes grew wide as he jumped down from the piloting platform to the rear deck. On the side of the cabin was a sealed metal door. He brought up his heavy, modified T-21 Repeater. The long blaster was familiar to both Sev and Keilbourn, having seen it among the ranks of the Clones in the Clone Wars. Deljo however, fitted it with a fore grip and handle on top of the barrel and replaced the stock with a thinner, shorter alternative. Heaving the large repeater up to his waist by holding the handle, Deljo pointed the blaster at the console beside the sealed door. After releasing a hail of green bolts, the console sizzled and smoked, out shorting the circuits. Deljo allowed his repeater to drop to on its sling across his chest as he gripped the jagged metal door and slid it open. The light seeped inside the hold, shining on the timid slaves inside.

"In here!" Deljo called out. Hastily, they rushed to Deljo's side. Inside was a collection of beings hugging the back wall of the metal cabin. Stout, furry Ewoks from the moon of Endor all hugged each other close, their black beady eyes watering with fright. Another group consisted of green, rough skinned Rodians, accompanied by a huddle of humans. Sev slammed his armored fist on the side of the metal cabin, which thundered in the closed area. The slaves inside retracted further in fright, nearly melting into the wall. Keilbourn dropped down to his knees, his compassion for them showed through his caring eyes as he removed his threatening helmet.

"You're okay. We're not going to hurt you," he assured them consolingly. The few humans inside relaxed slightly, though few Rodians remained defensive while the Ewok's looked at the Mandalorians with scarred confusion. The others followed Keilbourn's lead, removing their helmets and peering at the captives with kind faces. Keilbourn turned his attention to the Ewoks. Knowing none of them would speak Galactic Basic, he instead offered an open hand. The Ewok in front looked from his face to the outstretched fingers, sniffing the tips with its flat, dark nose. After a cautious moment, it reached its stubby, furry arm out and touched its tiny paw to the Mandalorians palm. He smiled to assure the creature, all was safe. He gently shifted out from the cabin, leading the Ewok into the sun. Before long, the slaves all had filed off of the skiff and onto the desert sands. Falin approached Keilbourn after he was able to peel the grateful Ewoks from his armored leg.

"Okay now what? We're just going to leave them here?" Falin asked.

"No, we can't do that, they'd die out here in this sun," Keilbourn muttered as he squinted up at the sky. His gaze then dropped to his ship, landed on the sand just feet away; there was his solution.