Andora was finishing her ghillie suit for the harder hunt he would send her on as the bird meat roasted and the bones were simmering in water to make a broth. Pirpak walked around within the security lines, his little waddling steps barely crunching the grass beneath his feet. The sun was still at a comfortable height in the sky, but it was lowering towards the treeline. The grass was almost taller than him, and his green skin blended in, Din keeping his sensors on to keep track of the child to prevent himself from rushing over and hovering protectively. The child needed to have some sense of freedom, but Din was tensed and ready to charge over at the slightest hint of an issue.

Andora was humming again, the sound being carried off by the wind as her mind drifted off in a meditative state while her fingers twisted and tied the grass and twigs together. She was also using some more durable sticks for more structure underneath. The fire was crackling pleasantly between them, but her face was getting warm, her hand reaching up and realizing she had not removed the borrowed mask. She took it off, leaving it on top of the bow caster still at her side. The vibroblade he had given her was strapped to her thigh now, it a much easier place to access and since they were out in the field it was acceptable to have a weapon on display.

The meat was dripping fat into the fire, the smell delicious as it was picked up by the breeze. Pirpak rushing back over to Din as quickly as his tiny legs could, the child having enough of his freedom and wanting the safety of his father. He crawled into Din's lap, using the edges of the armor like grip points and excitedly trying to climb all the way up to sit on the helm, but it was so smooth so he settled for being perched on the shoulder plate. Din finally relaxed with the kid back in his reach, letting the little guy climb, his added weight barely a hindrance compared to the parental stress of letting the kid be out of easy reach. Din pulled the broth off the fire to let it cool for Pirpak. His gloves resistant to the heat of the fire, and he moved the skewers of meat further from the fire so Andora would not burn herself. Andora quickly disappeared into the ship, washing her own hands before she came and wiped Pirpak's chubby digits with a damp cloth.

"I'll feed him if you want to go eat." Din was reluctant to let the child go but if he was hungry and making poor choices it would be more dangerous. Standing Din took a few of the skewers with him inside, going up to the cockpit so he could keep watch while removing his helm. The cargo crate that Mando had pulled the cooking set from was going to work as a seat, her putting Pirpak on her lap. She shredded some of the bird meat, taking a bite to make sure it was cooked before helping him take chunks of it into his large mouth, being careful to avoid being bitten by his sharp little fangs. He was less aggressive to feed than Barabel hatchlings so she was unphased by the graze of sharp teeth. When he started to look for something to drink she brought the broth up to his lips, the child drinking it down and taking the bone to chew on. The sucking sound of him taking the nutrient rich marrow from the bone was the only thing she could hear, her senses extended since she was watching the child now. Mando was back soon, tossing his finished skewers into the fire. "Was that enough for you? I won't be able to eat the remaining skewers."

"Take what you can, I will eat more after you turn down for the night." He took over her position, taking his glove off to feed the bird meat to the child while she picked up a skewer for herself, nibbling on it as she looked up at the sky. She left him another skewer, laying on the landing ramp as she watched the clouds drift with the constant winds, the blue darkening as it crawled towards nightfall. "Me and the kid, we are clan Mudhorn. It's just the two of us." Andora looked over to him, her eyes looking more blue under the current lighting. "You have shared a lot about you and your clan."

"May I ask why the Mudhorn?" She was hopeful, excited by him sharing even this much with her. It felt nice to know he returned her trust.

"The kid and I...he used his magic to stop the beast before it crushed me, and I killed it. It destroyed my durasteel armor in the fight." The kid was fussing over being given more food, and Din let him down, the kid walking around the campfire now, the forest getting darker and he was staying close to safety.

"He levitated a mudhorn?" She sounded amazed, staring at the little guy who seemed so defenseless. The floating ball seemed like nothing now. "What else has he done?" Din snapped the stick of the skewer and tossed it to join the others in the fire, contemplating how much to tell her about the kid. She had the same magic, she would better understand what the child was doing.

"I don't know what it is called but…" They spent the evening with him explaining what he had noticed about the child's powers, Pirpak aware he was being talked about, but he was not sure what was being said. She tried to explain the powers as best she understood them, her knowledge limited by her lack of any formal training, it was mostly based on the names she had found in records and her own experiences. Eventually Pirpak felt drowsy, cooing happily as he was picked up by Din and tucked in for the night. Din watched as Andora finished the ghillie suit as best she could with the natural supplies. Setting it under the ship for safekeeping before pulling out her flute to practice. He leaned against the ramp of the ship, listening to the songs she played. He let himself focus on the sounds, finding the music did make his emotions move with it. They were safe for now, so he let himself relax.

Andora whined as she turned away from the voice and clutched her blankets closer, it hadn't been enough sleep for her liking. She was being shaken awake, her hand reaching out to hit the person trying to wake her. Her wrist was firmly gripped and the voice was more firm, tugging her arm up and out of her warm cot.

"No…" Her voice was begging for more of the pleasure of sleep.

"Jaha laam." (Wake up.) There was a serious tone to Mando's voice, that startling her awake, sitting up as she started reaching out to process what was going on. "I found your hunt target." She stood up, in only a long night shirt and socks, not fully grasping the situation. He ignored her undressed state, leading her up the ladder to the cockpit gently but with a sense of urgency. He pointed out the window to the large beast that was prowling their campsite under the moonlight. "It tripped the security sensor." The creature had 3 horns, and seemed to be drawn to the extinguished campfire pit, the two of them listening as the beast knocked over the cargo crate. She stared out in the darkness at the beast.

"Okay. I'll get some more sleep and give it a chance to leave so I can track it down." He didn't release her wrist, and she suddenly realized he was not wearing his gloves or his armor, again in just simple shirt and pants. He must have woken up and placed his helmet when the security wire was tripped. "Mando?"

"You don't seem worried." His voice through the modulator cracked a bit with his own tiredness.

"Durgolosk are bigger and meaner. Besides, I'm too tired to be scared." She said good naturedly, making her way back down the ladder. He slowly let go of her wrist, enjoying the lingering heat of her skin. She was shivering as she curled up in her cot again, trying to recapture the peacefulness of her dreams as he padded back to his own bunk to sleep.

He was up earlier than her and the kid a few hours later, letting her sleep longer as he scanned the area for signs of life. Her selected prey was gone from their camp, and nothing else was in the area. She had given him a name of her contact, so he used his time to search his own resources for information on the Cerean woman, chewing his ration bar breakfast in his privacy. All her major accomplishments in her field seemed to have taken place either before the Empire or after it's fall. Curious he searched for Andora's work as well. It also only seemed that her major projects were dated post Empire. As he kept searching names that were connected to historical research projects he realized that nothing of any major value was done during the Empire era, but many researchers went missing. Understanding what he did now about Andora's ability to sense the past around her, and remembering her emotional reception to the deaths of his tribe he did not want her to be unprepared. There had been a mission to this planet before the Empire, and the entire colony of locals, travelers, and archaeologists just suddenly were listed as dead or missing after the Empire took control. The colony had been in the same coordinates as Syille's expedition. He waited for her to wake up, increasing the shielding of his helms wiring since he noticed the winds were causing interference the day before.

"Mando, am I hunting first or are we going to get the list?" She was dressed in the same clothes from yesterday's hunt, seeing the grass and dirt stains from where she had crawled to her spot.

"List first. It left a sizable trail."

"Dr. Syille, we have made progress on identifying more of the bodies. We have them tagged and ready to be taken home when the Republic ships come for our restock in a week." The monotone voice of a tall Kaminoan male filled the tent, the teams of researchers there all quietly and somberly packing the tagged bodies into coffins. His head fins nearly grazed the top of the tent the team was working in, keeping them safe from the sun and keeping their equipment safe from the magnetic wind. The rigid tent had shielding to provide this effect, which was why Dr. Syille was waiting in the middle lock of the tent, to make sure that the tent was closed behind and able to filter out the electromagnetic interference.

"Did you find her yet Dr. Saroo?" Dr. Syille asked as she looked over the anthropology team working with the deceased, hoping to find a skull she recognized. The Kaminoan shook his pale head, his large eyes devoid of any emotional response to the female Cerean's question. Dr. Vo Saroo was a leading expert in identification of remains, his kinds cloning mastery also gave them an advantage in being able to extract DNA from even highly degraded sources.

"Not yet. But of the 2,681 remains at the start we have made considerable progress towards identifying half of them. It may be a few more months before this grave has been emptied. Then we have the grave sites to the southern edge to exhume." The older woman sighed, gripping her cane a bit firmer as she took a steadying breath, trying to keep her two hearts beating calmly. "Has your team made any inroads to the ruins?"

"Slowly. We are piecing together what we can from the broken pottery and the shattered stone monuments, but they were ruthless in their destruction." Her own team of archaeologists were working in their own tent trying to sort rubble from soil.

"This is Gate to Dr. Syille. Repeat, Gate to Dr. Syille."

"Dr. Syille, what is it Gate?" She was tired, and not in the mood for another set back.

"Two people came from the forest, asking to talk to you. They are refusing to identify themselves till you come." The voice came over the comm link.

"Locals?"

"One is a Mandalorian." Everyone in the tent tensed up except Dr. Saroo. "The other is a Human woman." Dr. Syille was leaving the tent as quickly as she could while following procedure.

"Hold them there. I'll be over to the gate in a moment." As she exited the tent she was thinking about who this might be at the gate. She sat in the small transport bed, the little droid rolling towards the gate. As she approached she could see the shining beskar metal armor, the breeze picking up the cloak of the warrior and the rifle slung in such a relaxed way over their shoulder was truly an impressive site. She did not recognize the woman at the gate with the warrior. Arriving at the gate Dr. Syille stayed sitting as she looked the people over through the gate, too tired to stand and be threatened. "Why are you here?" The woman with the blue hair came up first, a friendly smile on her face despite the weapon strapped to her thigh.

"Dr. Syille, it's so nice to see you in person again." Looking at the woman's smile and the cadence of her voice the Cerean felt the tension leave her. "Sorry for dropping in unannounced, apparently communications is spotty out here. I was hoping you could help me with a new project I am working on."

"Changing your hair color again Ms. Vizsla. How will your ever earn your doctoral degree if you insist on being so unprofessional?" The older woman chuckled good naturedly at the younger woman.

"This looks like a huge project, it's exciting to think about what you are going to learn here. Jedi Temple?" Andora brushed past the color of her hair, she knew that she was never going to get the doctorate because of her record. Even though the Republic had sealed many records for people imprisoned by the Empire for political reasons, her record had not been expunged.

"No, but the original Zeffo inhabitants did have a strong connection to the Force. Whatever they knew here the Empire made sure to steal it." She waved the gate guards to stand down, giving the pair of Mandalorians permission to enter the camp. "Is this armor accurate? It seems a bit different from the suits you were working on restoring for your heritage project. Oh, forgive my manners, Dr. Brezen Syille. Archaeologist of Religious sites for the Museum of Coruscant. You are?" The woman reached out to shake the warrior's hand, not feeling up to standing. "Forgive me, the magnetic winds make it harder for me to stand with my cybernetic knee."

"I'm an associate of Andora's." The lack of information made the woman raise an eyebrow, looking to Andora for more details.

"Armor is banned still." Andora wasn't lying, if the woman came to the wrong conclusion it was not a direct lie. Brezen nodded and gave him a smile.

"Well then, I won't get him in trouble by asking for more. The armor looks wonderful. Real beskar?" The droid started to head back for her own tent, Andora and the unnamed man walking along side her.

"Yes, it is ma'am." Mando may have looked relaxed, but his hand was at his hip, ready to reach for his blaster.

"When I saw you at the gate I was worried you were here to drag someone off. But if you are with Andora I assume this is for research, and possibly related to why you came all the way out here instead of just getting the information from my assistant."

"Well, I was hoping you would copy me a list of the Jedi Temple registries. I am trying to track down family that might only be listed on their documents."

"Clan Vizsla only had one inductee." Brezen said dismissively.

"It's for me." Mando spoke up. The older woman staring between them more before a small smirk formed on her lips.

"I can't give that out the list just because I am asked. Even if an especially handsome man is asking." She chuckled, Andora feeling a bit embarrassed that the older woman said such a flirty thing.

"Dr. Syille...please, I wouldn't have come all the way from Mandalore if it wasn't important. If a copy is too much to ask, then could we at least read through the list?" Andora kept her friendly tone, hoping to keep this casual.

"Those lists are highly secured Ms. Vizsla, you weren't even allowed to look at it the last time we worked together. Now you are asking for me to let two unauthorized people just read it over and do who knows what with it." The older woman's tone was a bit more firm this time. The woman opened her mouth about to say something else before bringing her hand to her chin to reconsider. "Are you willing to work for a chance to look at the list?" She was looking into the reflective visor now, her question was directed at him.

"For a chance, no." He was polite in his refusal, but he would not be taken advantage of.

"If you tell me your name I can search the records in exchange for your work." Brezen bent first in the negotiations.

"I need to look at the list." Mando pressed firmly. "I don't know the name I am looking for." He gave her a little, but not enough to change the terms.

"Mandalorians are supposed to have a knack for finding. Do you have this skill too?" Brezen spoke, gripping her cane reflexively.

"Depends on what you want me to find." His modulated voice was neutral.

"I need you to find someone." There was a crackle in her voice, and his hand moved from his hip to rest on the lid of the bag he was carrying Pirpak in.

"I can't find the dead." He answered back with more softness, a slight bow of his head. He had done his research, Dr. Syille's daughter had been a researcher here before the project went silent. "But Andora might be able to." They arrived at the tent, the older woman looking up at the ruins and then over to the large white tent on the other side. Andora didn't speak up, mulling over the fact she was going to have to be literally knee deep in a mass grave. It was going to be a horrible day.

"I just want to take her home." The Cerean woman looked at the pair, her aged face melancholy.

"I need the list." He wasn't going to settle for just reading. His son was depending on him, he was taking a copy of the list.

"Then you best get to work." Brezen sighed, accepting the terms.

"Guess you really aren't afraid of my visions anymore." Andora grumbled as she was sitting down staring at the edge of the pit, this her tenth attempt to approach the task. She was not proud but the first attempt she had broken down crying. He had dragged her away and forced her to calm down. The second attempt she had still cried, but she wasn't sobbing. It had been a progression of her needing to get up and leave to calm down, unable to see past the screams and death of innocent people to focus on the individuals. Pirpak was also not faring so well around the mass grave either. He wasn't crying like she was, but he was shaking in fear in the bag. He was having a hard time telling what was an echo and what was now. "Maybe it will be better if you and the kid go back. I have the comm link so...if I make progress or need to come back I will let you know."

"I'll hunt today." She nodded at his statement, grateful that he would adjust her burden for the day. He turned to walk out of the camp, the kid getting calmer the further away they went from the grave. Once the pair left the gate he opened the flap on the bag, deciding to go back to the cliffs from yesterday to hunt for dinner.

Pirpak was excited to be carried in a bag slung across his Dad's chest, the flap open so he could look at the world around them, his eyes wide with excitement and his ears twitching as the wind rushed by, whispers only he and the singing woman could hear. His little hands were gripping the edge of the bag as his father walked somewhere. Giggling he reached out, trying to grab the bug that was close, wondering if it tasted good. He wanted to go play. But Dad needed to do something. He would play when they weren't walking so fast. Dad swatted his buggy prey away, a chirp of disappointment escaping him as he looked up. The shiny helmet and the reflection of himself in the metal easily distracted him, and he turned to start tapping at the chest plate that was protecting his Dad's heart. He looked into the visor and focused his energy onto the new task the woman had been helping with. "Sayr!" (Dad) The walking stopped, and he felt a mix of emotions from behind the metal, it was happy. He liked when his dad felt like that. "Sayr!" He found himself being picked up out of the bag, being held closer to the masked face, putting his hands on the visor, leaving smudges on the shiny metal. "Sayr." Dad was saying a lot more words between them now, he recognized the sounds but it was too fast for him to really understand. Based off the way his Dad felt and the tone of his voice it was all praise and happy and so he began chanting the word, being rewarded with a soft squeeze from the stoic masked man and being placed against the helmet, whispered words of affection from the man, but he was excited to get more praise by learning more words.

Din was holding the child to his helm as gently as he could, focused on the sound of his son calling him dad and he was tempted to just call her back to the ship and forget the task of taking the child to another family. The soft clack of the kid's claws on his helm made him wish he could take it off, let the child see his face and the smile that the kid always brought out of him. But feeling the child's small body fit in his hands, he was worried that keeping him was the selfish choice. If he tried to raise the child to be a Mandalorian, and the child failed the training it could kill the kid. The idea of failing the kid, of giving the child false hopes of being a warrior only to lose him like that. No. The child would be safest with his own people.

The Death Troopers were standing at attention as the ship prepared to receive the Moff. The star destroyer was a flurry of activity as the troops were all trying to be in position.

"Hey...you deleted the data logs from that comm link interception back on Navarro right?" Asked one of the Death Troopers to their squadron leader. He snapped a glare at the other trooper, giving a quick nod before kicking him back to attention.

"Ne'johaa." (Shut up.) The tie fighter landed in the hanger, the Death Troopers waiting till the exhaust released before coming to stand at the ramp. Moff Gideon was looking more displeased than usual. He started walking, the troopers marching in formation around him to escort him to the bridge. The crew on the bridge was working at their station, most of them avoiding looking at the Moff for fear he would take his anger out on them.

"Commander Brag Luast." The Death troop leader walked over and turned at attention to face the Moff. "Senator Ordot is taking too long to find Vizsla. I want that beskar, and she is standing in my way. Send a patrol to Concord Dawn, I want any documents related to Grand Admiral Thrawn's plans to take over Mandalore brought to me. Send another team to bring me any information we could use to help flush her out of hiding. It was bad enough when we lost the asset to that bounty hunter, I will not be denied by a worthless historian." The Moff's gloved hand tightened into a fist, taking a deep breath to redirect his anger. The Darksaber clipped to the Moff's belt. "I expect results Commander." Gideon watched the Death trooper salute before walking out of the bridge, the door closing behind him.

Chapter end