Hello everyone and welcome back to a new chapter.

This is a sequel to chapter 2 story of the lone Mandalorian Wes Journ. His journey has brought him to a familiar setting for those who play the video game in the early 2000s.

And for anyone who cares or not I fan casted Sam Worthington to play the role of Wes Journ. He's best known for voicing Alex Mason in COD Black Ops up until Cold War where a new VA has taken over, he's also known for plethora of movie roles over the years. I chose him for the role as he greatly carried himself in military-like characters and fighters so being a lone fighter shouldn't be too hard and have that western style voice like how Pedro Pascal did for Din Djarin in the Mandalorian series.

Huge thanks to urbinazation for helping me put this chapter together.

Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy.

The Outland Transit Station wasn't on the list of Wes' typical stomping grounds, but when digging for intel needed to be done, the rinky-dink outpost was one of the best placed to dig for it

If someone ever came to Outland Station, it was for two main reasons. Travelers became gamblers in the midst of beast fighting season, and customers emptied their wallets at the sights of new goodies and gadgets at the Merchant Row. There was a third group one filled with incoming tourists and cargo tuggers but they weren't particularly important. Nothing more than average wage workers pulling an average wage job.

Even if Wes were to pay for info, he'd get nothing out of them. People dare not talk while on trips, after all.

Besides that, the information the Mandalorian wanted wasn't something he could just ask about in the open. The Black Suns weren't entirely focused on stealth, but they were all about force. One wrong word, phrase, or question, and a normal civilian would find themselves dead with some cryptic message written all over them.

Wes didn't need anymore casualties, he needed answers. And if not answers, then taking out the trash before it polluted the proverbial water was the next best course of action. The bar was the next best place to crack a couple of conversations; scumbags couldn't live without their alcohol, after all.

So, he made his way into an alley after paying a pretty penny to someone who wouldn't cough up the location. It took a few pushes and shoves of dumpsters and scrap metal, but the entrance itself was in plain sight once he pushed through everything.

Honestly, with how vivid the lights were and how many people crowded around each booth and stall, one would not consider this a hidden bar. A normal passerby might assume the door was broken, or something.

Wes could comment on the "decor" all he wanted, but it wouldn't get him anywhere. He took a few steps in, but hastily covered the entrance with a few metal bits.

Lively didn't begin to cover the place. In one corner, there were a group of droids playing cards. To the right, Humans chugging the next best glass of alcohol the waitresses could give them. The racket around him grew louder by the second, but that was alright; no one would notice the quiet steps of a Mandalorian this way. He approached the bartender a nice and quiet Besalisk who seemed all to focused on wiping down the glassware until Wes moved closer.

It was only when the Mandalorian hopped on the stool that the man's attention was taken off the squeaky material. If anything, the poor creature nearly dropped and shattered the damned cup.

"Not often that we find your kind here, welcome to the bar! Can I get ya something to start with? Maybe a little..." his words trailed off into a stop once Wes passed him a few coins. "Ah, I see."

"You wouldn't happen to know of what the Black Suns are doing right now, would you?" Wes' question was stern, but soft. He wasn't looking for trouble, he just wanted his answers.

"That freaky group full of Falleen?" A green-skinned woman shot a glance at the barista. "Sorry what I mean is, the syndicate of scum that does what it takes to get what they want?"

"That's the group."

"Well, perhaps, but what what you want from them? They aren't the type to want to, err, talk to strangers…"

Wes scanned the room for a moment, then held up his hand and wagged a finger. The barkeep inched into whisper range.

"I'm wondering if you know about their little posse as a whole. In general. I'm looking into their habits, and would appreciate any information on their operations, if available."

"Ah... now that explains it." He cleared his throat, "okay, pal, listen close: I can't guarantee any information about the Black Suns that you don't already know. I know next to nothin'. However, what I can tell you is that they have a habit for keeping everything as quiet as they possibly can. They won't say a word, and they'll silence anyone who tries."

Fun. Wes already wanted to bow out of the conversation.

"There is one person you can talk to, though. He's real good about all the nitty-gritty details, you would just have to find him."

Wes was listening.

"In the slums the slum slums, not this hidden booze palace there's a man named Crux. Big tough guy, comes around about once or twice a week. No one messes with him because he knows about eeeeverything in this station, including what you're looking for. Worst thing that could happen is that he says no, but he'd be your best shot at looking for the information you desperately wish for."

Bingo.

"Wonderful. Thanks."

The Barkeep turned his back to Wes and mixed another drink in a new glass. "It's no trouble. I'd, uh, be wary of who you're mentioning the name to, though. Black Suns operations run fairly rampant here; ask the wrong people, and you'll just find yourself asking for nothing but trouble.

"No need. If they want trouble, they'll know where to find it," Wes left one last coin against the table, "Just uh... one last thing before I leave you alone."

The clatter made them flinch. "What is it?"

"Mind telling me how to get to the slums?"

-Scene Break-

He didn't quite understand what the guy was referencing when "slum slums" came out of his mouth... not until he made it there, at least.

Crumbled buildings, broken windows. Wood boards, vandalized with paints and dyes, fell off once boarded households and smashed sandy brick walls. A few kids that were playing in the area looked in Wes' direction, then promptly ran out of the vicinity. They never bothered to pick up the toys they left...why the hell was this area so depressing?

A few steps forward, and he'd come across a few homeless people. Panhandlers. They'd go as far as pressing their face into his in hopes for cash, but the lack of sight from his helmet made it hard for them to linger any longer than a couple of seconds. He had his fair share of drug peddlers, a healthy dose of con artists…

None of it phased him anymore. The poor had to make money somehow who could blame for their forward actions? It's not like he was scared, either; anyone that came up to him were promptly pushed away. The adamant ilk were ignored.

No, the moment he was out of the marketeer woodwork Wes found himself asking each and every person that looked docile enough to approach. How was he supposed to get information if he didn't? If the barkeep wasn't pulling his leg, and the Black Suns did ruin the lives of many on a daily basis, there had to be someone in this trashed up quarter that had a tip they could pass on to him.

Payment didn't bother him—hell, they all looked like they needed it. Name a price, and he'd gladly throw his change at them for it.

First, there were a group of Twi'lek girls that squat over a rundown vehicle. Unknown make and model. From the conversation he caught while approaching them, they had just run out of money to take care of themselves. One was crying, another who seemed to be the mother or the older sibling constantly ran her finger across the same set of numbers on a page. The third one of the group simply played with the rocks that were next to them. What a way to turn their mind away from current issues at hand.

Wes approached them with a friendly guise (or tried to, with how daunting his helmet looked), but they all stood up and ran in another direction. Even the youngest one, the one who lagged behind, didn't bother to tell him a thing before she moved to catch up with her parents. Great. He couldn't even pass them money for the efforts either…

A little more traveling ran him into some Cyborgs, though they weren't particularly friendly. They turned their noses up, pushed him away, or simply (and very rudely) stated that he should leave before "something bad happens to him."

Asking for more input on that didn't seem to help his situation either. We want nothing to do with those who associate with the Black Suns. Stop trying to take away the one haven we can get around here.

The last person he approached was a male Kel Dor who, funny enough, was the nicest one there.

"I feel kind of bad taking the credits when I don't have any info for you, but I appreciate the donation all the same," he shrugged. "I genuinely know nothing about a person named Crux. I know a few people who run at the mention of the name, but your guess is as good as mine."

"Sounds more like the local ghost at this rate, than an actual person."

"You're telling me…" The Kel Doe was the first person Wes ever saw laughing in the area, "anyways, you might have run your luck here. Be careful wherever you decide to go next."

Wes merely nodded, turned his back, and carried on in his endeavors. Perhaps it was time to go back and ask the Bartender for new information.

Even if the bartender was playful and nervous in his nature, something in Wes' gut told him he had every right to be. Hells, even if he did know more: would the Mandalorian be willing to risk his life for the sake of squeezing him dry? No. No he would not. He wasn't as pious or saintly as the Jedi that made themselves out to be, he just knew what was good and what wasn't.

Wes made his way back through where he came from, and kept his head down. At least, he refused to look around until he heard the sounds of struggle coming from nearby dumpsters. Something told him that he shouldn't ignore it, either.

Another slam. Wes deftly maneuvered into the nearby alley and hid behind one of the dumpster's inbetweens. A quick analysis of the area provided him witness of a mere Bothan and at least four or five other Humans surrounding him. Wonderful.

"Look, fur-for-brains, we're giving you one last chance," said one as they grabbed him by the collar and lifted his short stature into the air, "we know you have the cash. No one comes to the Outland's slums looking as regal as you."

"I-I really don't I don't have anything!" His cream-colored beared was caked with mud. Maybe blood, too. "I came here to see an old friend!"

Thrown down again the force enough to make Wes flinch. He kept quiet; perhaps there was a way to intervene without revealing himself too early?

"Ugh, Bothans. They think they're slick, and will do anything to save themselves before they help the others," one woman pulled out a rusted metal blade from her pocket. "Take him down. Let's make him beg for mercy first, and shake his pockets after!"

The meager man whimpered and winced he covered his eyes. Two of the other Humans eagerly moved for him with both fists balled. Unfortunately, they weren't the ones to get the last laugh. If anything, they wouldn't be laughing at all by the time the Mandalorian was done with them. No, rather than fists meeting their Bothan target, they were instead knocked unconscious by a few boomerang whacks to the back of their heads.

The three that remained kept their wide eyes on him, and the woman in question clearly did not appreciate her lackeys being pummeled in the Bothan's place.

"Stay in your lane, metalhead. There's no reason you should be getting into fights that you won't win."

"That's a fresh name from the typical 'Mandalorian' title. I'll take it," he pumped his fist out and a needle flew right out of his vambrace and into the "bodyguard" to her right. Three down, "I don't really see the need to pick on those in similar situations you all are in. There's no need to rob someone whose clearly said they don't own anything."

"Oooh, a Mandalorian? One ballsy enough to come into this area? Interesting." The woman grinned and ran a few fingers through her red bob cut. "Alright, then. If we can't rob the shorty here, then we'll just have to take everything and anything you own and off it to the market! Glorious!"

They didn't even give the man a chance to respond they went in for the kill. Judging by the meager wardrobe they had on (shirts, pants the usual), the remaining thugs didn't have much on them. Maybe a couple of blades here or a rusty blaster pistol handle here... would they really have anything to pierce through Wes' armor with?

No, probably not.

The first one that lunged for him was the beefier, bulkier Human. He desperately grasped for Wes' wrist or neck, but was met with an immediate turnaround and a few twists against his arm. Just enough force allowed him to dislocated the bone there, and little enough that it wouldn't make him bleed. Internally, at least. Though the thug could grasp his cape, Wes made quick work by tripping the stranger by his ankle.

A weak groan and fwomp against the dusty ground, and the Mandalorian stepped away. Good, that was four.

The lady leader was not having it in the slightest. She took a couple of steps forward.

"My men! How dare you..."

"Your cronies. They won't be waking up anytime soon," Wes pat down his satchel. Good, his own fancy set of shuriken were still on him, "I'd appreciate if you'd scram before you end up like the rest of them. You were clearly outpowered and will continue to be if you're not careful."

"What business of yours is it to—" A yelp, followed by a short blade to her face. That was enough to stop her in her tracks. She held her hands in the air, and averted her gaze to the ground instead.

"Go home, wherever it may be. You've lost here."

And like a dog with their tail between its legs, so too did she scuttle and scramble out of the alleyway. For someone so worried about "her men," she was quick to leave them to fend for themselves. Well, it's not like it mattered. Wes' priority was to make sure the Bothan was okay.

He didn't seem to look like he sustained much of an injury. Good. Wes got here just in time.

"You're alright?" He extended a hand out, which was quickly taken as the smaller man stood on both feet.

"I am, now that you're here. Those two have followed me near day and night..." He looked like quite the talker; his face flushed as he cut off his sentence, "b-but where are my manners? I'm Bin. Bin Duqum."

"Wes Journ, a pleasure." They shook hands, then Wes crossed both his arms over his chest.

"Nice to meet you, Wes. Forgive my questioning, but err, you're a Mandalorian, yes?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"W-well, forgive my rudeness, but I've not seen one of you at the Station since Jango Fett! G-granted, not many people drop by anyway, but... What made you out of everyone here want to save me?"

"I get that a lot." His humbleness bled through his teeth, "you look like you needed help. I assume they weren't going going to leave you alone?"

Bin's eyes widened, but soon his entire expression moved into a smile and laugh. "Absolutely not! They weren't gonna leave until they had whatever credits came flying out of my pocket! I never carry coin so obviously!" A quiet "ah" left his lips. "Err, but if that's what you were looking to be repaid with..."

"No need. If anything, I would rather be paid with information instead."

"Oh? What are you looking for in a place like this?"

"Some guy named Crux. Everywhere I've gone so far has almost no access to the guy... that, or they don't know a thing."

"S-sure, I could do that. If you don't mind me asking, why are you looking for him?"

"They say he's the type of person to have info on the Black Suns, and I'm the type of person who has a score to settle with him."

If this was the lottery, Wes would've hit the jackpot.

A little more talking here and there with Bin, and the Mandalorian would learn that he was talking with someone who was more than just a poor pauper in the slums of Outland Station. No, if anything, Bin was an associate of Crux a potential employee. Made it easier to talk to him, too.

"I've known the guy for years. Quiet, but kind in his own way. The rumors about him knowing about everything that goes on around here do not lie."

"When can I meet him, then?"

"Well, for just about anyone else in the galaxy Crux isn't so easily reachable." Bin shrugged. "He takes appointments has a queue or line, you see. He's a busy man, and will only speak to those that he can particularly trust. Even though he's something short of an enigma, he still has a business that he needs to run. As such, he only talks to people he can trust."

"I assume I have to do something to gain that trust, then?"

"Potentially." Bin pulled Wes closer by the cape. "Between you and me, the reason I was out here to begin with is because Crux wanted me to act as a spy. One of the strongest gangs on the station will be meeting with one of the Black Suns' highest, you see. Potentially have a treaty of some sort established for both big parties."

"That why you didn't carry any weapons or cash on you?"

Bin nodded. "People try to mug or rob you for every little shiny thing in these parts. I don't blame them in the slightest, but it makes investigations like these difficult. This entire mission might be just your luck, though."

Wes stopped walking and faced the Bothan directly.

"You and Crux have a common enemy. My job was supposed to be surveillance-turned-assassination. Take the rep down, and you'll likely earn enough of Crux' trust to see him face-to-face."

"How will he react when he finds out that you asked someone like me to help you?"

"I'll handle all of the formalities of the sort if you can make sure that body is dragged out dead."

It wasn't a bad offer, just different. And, unfortunately for the Mandalorian, his desperation sensor might have had its switch flipped.

"Can I ask one more question about this whole little operation from you guys, though?

"Ask away." Bin nodded. "We have some time to kill before they meet."

"Why exactly does Crux want the Black Suns gone from Outland Station?"

"Oh! That's the easiest one you've asked this entire time," Bin snorted as he placed his hands behind his back, "the Suns crossed him, and they've become enemy number one on a very long list of his."

The feeling was mutual, then. "Wonderful. So, what's the plan?"

"We'll be heading over to an abandoned port. Got a couple of credits on you?" His eyes lit up when Wes shook his bag. "Perfect. I'm tipping the second strongest gang here to attack their rivals. Once the bloodshed starts, I'll give you the signal to go in and kill the man of the hour."

Causing problems on purpose. Beautiful. Though Wes would've handled the idea differently, the outcome remained the same. And after a few little nuances in their rendezvous, the two split off into different directions to see through the end to this operation.

-Scene Break-

It wasn't hard to spot the Black Suns' arrival. With how loud and large their approaching ship was, all Wes had to do was wait until the time was right to strike.

Bin's plan was fairly smooth as far as the Mandalorian was concerned; a new group of people appeared out of the shadows and spread themselves between the different nooks and crannies of the abandoned port. Some of them had the standard pistols, others pikes high quality, too. They watched as a man with bandages covering his left eye and mouth walked into the ship. An abundance of gang goons and Black Suns stood outside of it. Wes could do without causing a scene, but when there were several units blocking entry, well…

Needless to say the gloves were off and the blasters were on. Just as their enemies got into formation and went on their own little patrol, Wes watched as Bin's toss of a tiny pebble triggered the raid almost immensely. The outcry was deafening were packs in the area always willing to bellow out warcries?

"Hey, what are they doing here?! No one was supposed to know!" One of the opposing members cocked their blasters and aimed it forward.

"I dunno! I thought Boss wasn't planning to attack them until next week!"

Oh, and a surprise attack, too? Wes had to admit: the Bothan was good. Might have been a little reckless with his thoughts and actions here and there, but he definitely knew how to unleash some chaos into the world. And if the one-on-one fights weren't enough, one of the members had gotten ahold of a rocket launcher; weren't those supposed to be illegal at one point? They cocked and aimed in a group of two. Whatever the other gang did to cross them must've been pretty bad for the aggressors here to go that far.

The explosion blew out the air in Wes' ears and the area smelt of nothing but smoke and ash, but that's not what caught his eyes, no. What was so surprising the burning spectacle was the fact that it only took a single shot to send the hunk of metal in flames. If the Black Sun and the gang leader were still in there, they should've been dead. Judging by the indiscernible figure running out of the area? They missed.

Not that it mattered. Wes wanted the kill for himself anyway. The chase would be more than enough to give him some answers he would've liked to hear.

"They'll be shootin' at each other all day! They're rather dumb about that," Bin swung over on one of the electrical cables and stood next to him, "anyways, if you can avoid the flying bolts, then my advice to you would be to chase after our villainous fellow making a break for it over there."

"Already on it." It was the only thing that came out of Wes' mouth as he leapt into the crossfire. Risky, sure, but his armor could handle it. He had a minuscule chance of getting shot at on landing, too.

Could've sworn he heard a shriek of concern, but that didn't matter. With a few sidesteps here and there, Wes had made it out of piercing territory and into the direction of the Representative himself.

"What in the—a Mandalorian?! G-Guards, take care of him!" He cried out, "make sure he doesn't slip through by any means necessary!"

Any means necessary, huh? Good thing he was well equipped.

From a sudden approach, Wes in sheer numbers was gravely mismatched. Whereas the five before were mere child's play to him, having 20 well-equipped soldiers might give him a bit of a run for his credits. They were all initially occupied by the infighting frozen and misguided as they tried to figure out what they needed to do and how to keep their ringleader safe. A sudden snap of the fingers, and he found himself ready to tuck and roll.

What would he use today? What did he come prepared with? A simple arsenal, really. One with a pair of Vibro Knives and a couple of disposable knives to boot.

The first set of enemies he came across weren't so bad. Brainless, really. Wes could walk through each and every shot they took at his armor, but was only met with sliced beams and abrupt zaps against the blade. A quick sprint forward, and the Mandalorian swung the weapon towards the first five (or was it ten?) in his way. Downed within an instant blood need not be shed. One even tried to sneak up from behind, but was felled on the spot.

Another line of guards, who were just a tad smarter, tried to pressure Wes close enough to push him into the fire. He used this moment to vault over them and knock them down with simple kicks and flips. The third and final set? Well, they immediately fell to their hands and knees and begged for forgiveness. That was easy enough.

The Black Sun Representative was already up one of the stairs of the rickety port houses metal dancing left and right, too. Whoever they were, they took the kind of risk someone with a "can't catch me if I'm dead" attitude would. Not like it mattered to him.

If he could not get the information verbally, then he'd use the death as an announcement. A signal.

Wes ran towards the Rep's direction. The blades were perfect, but they'd only reach so far. He'd have to close the cap on him to do any real damage.

The Rep pulled out his own artillery from the pocket of his jacket and fired away. An even match the two of them were; every blast coming towards Wes' direction was met and block by his Vambrace shield. His steps were nimble and graced by easy terrain. Though the Mandalorian wasn't sure whether each fire at him was calculated or desperate... Did he just give this scum of the earth more credit than he deserved?

With the gun jammed up, Wes leapt against the metal and climbed up as quick as he could. And though the Black Sun was able to get the damned thing to shoot one last shot, the potent, stringed blue beam was (thankfully) deflected by the brace's Shield Absorber function. He nearly fell off when the blaster was thrown right into his face, though. What a rookie mistake.

"You can fire at me to knock me off all you want, but that isn't gonna change a thing," Wes hopped to the very top of the building. Cornered, "Give up while you still can."

"I'd rather die than listen to you." The Rep swung one last blaster pistol from his other pocket and fired. The second brace did its job without another word.

Wes took out a switchblade, smacked the weapon out of his target's hand, and grabbed him by the wrist. He pinned him down blade against his neck and all.

"Get off of me!"

"No can do. Not until I get the answers I need from you." The blade dug into the stranger's skin, and a small stream of blood pooled against the dirty floor.

He winced. "If I tell you, will you remove your filthy hands from my persons?!"

"Maybe, maybe not." He dug his knee into the man's back. "Start talking, Sun scum."

"A-about what?! You inflicting bruises like this isn't going to give you whatever the hell you're looking for!"

"It's about your little group, of course. Why are they here?" He motioned his hand towards the other's hair and promptly yanked it upward. "Why are they trying to expand through the Outer Rim Territories? Haven't they had enough with what they were able to obtain so far?"

"T-there's never enough! The only bit I know is that our leader took a g-great interest in the Hutts!" Another yank. "Ow!"

"Go on."

"You are so… You should know the Hutts are masterminds when it comes to illegal dealings and the like. You should know partnerships are what make the world go around, too. If our leader could expand our powers through the Outer Rim, then we'd all be able to have our way with the markets and the land those disgusting cretins control!"

"And eliminating Hutt competition essentially gives them the right to rule here," Wes nodded, "money talks."

"Th-that it does! The Black Suns will be a power without equal… at least, that's what we're hoping for."

"Okay, then. Riddle me this: since your leader seems to think of you so highly, tell me why he sent you here? What does he know? Surely you should have all the details."

"You'd be—ow—a fool to think the big boss would trust me with everything… d-don't kill me just yet! I might know what you're looking for!"

"Then out with it. You're wasting my time."

"Our leader will be working with the Assembler to bring about th-the destruction of the Bounty Hunters' Guild! C-crime syndicates wouldn't be able to go after us when they're strapped for cash, a-and we'd be able to hire as many freelancers and mercs as possible without the worry of them turning against us! W-we also wouldn't have to worry about traitors."

..Solid. A solid plan. The lengths the wealthy would go for the prize were something to behold in cities like these. Every job was either a "bait-and-switch" tactic or "high risk, high reward." Going as far as they could with alliances would only make them more money by the end of it. If the Black Suns were able to thoroughly convince the lechs and the overlords, then they wouldn't have that much of an issue taking over…

Shame that they couldn't do it this time around. All that mattered to Wes now was the burning question he'd been meaning to ask throughout his entire time here.

"Alright. Last one, and I'll let you run back to your little security box for now," A lie. He'd kill him the moment he could, "where is Prince Xizor?"

"The Prince? H-he's—"

The response he wanted was nonverbal and messy. Instead of hearing words that would drill their way into his skull, Wes was instead met with the blood splatters and slight burns against the armor. It was enough to make him jump back and land on one knee.

Watching people die before his very eyes wasn't anything new, but the abruptness? Unwarranted. Unplanned. Were it the Bothan's doing, he was sure to hear some nervous babbles from him now. Plus, they seemed like the type to take care of the work in the back alley or something. If not him, then who would do such a thing? Who would stop the fearful fool from spitting out his location?

The Mandalorian turned his head to the left, then to the right. His eyes locked onto a hooded figure he'd never seen in his life.

The hood itself wasn't wearing anything telling. No embossing, no engraving none. Were it any other situation, Wes would've considered this to be a one-off incident. The shot was clean and that of a sniper's. They aimed at anywhere but him by any means, which could only mean that this was just another bounty ripe for the taking.

Whoever or whatever they were, they planned on keeping the prince as hidden as they possibly could.

He stood and stretched his arm back to toss a knife, but the assailant jumped off the second story and made a break for it. Wes might have had lock-on prowess, but this was one of few times he couldn't seem to get the advantage. How strange…

It's not like he could track them down, though. They were fast, or maybe it was because they were crafty? One moment they were within view, and the next moment they weren't. That was something the Mandalorian would have to look into when he got the chance.

For now though, the work here was done? Though he didn't take him out by his own hands, the job was still considered done. Perhaps now that the main objective out of the way, his new Bothan friend would be willing to introduce him to the person he's been looking for all this time. He'd need to look for the apartment first.

...That begs the question: where on this damned station would those apartments be?

-Scene Break-

"Wooow, look at you! You got the job done and in record time! Crux is gonna be so happy when he finds out." Bin rocked his computer chair back and forth. "You're not so bad, Mandalorian!"

"Just Wes is fine. I'm just glad you made it back here before the job got any messier." The man scanned the bits and bobbles that the Bothan decorated his apartment with. "Was it really only one person causing so much trouble here?"

"Is it really so shocking?"

"Well…"

"You haven't lingered in the station long enough, then. If you can't find something to monetize, then the syndicates and the scumbags will find their ways to monetize you." Bin pointed a thumb towards his chest. "Moneymakers don't care! They see lives as opportunities for bank. It's why Hutts were such a large problem here, too."

"I suppose. I'd just think with how often you seem to be targeted, the people would be willing to fight back."

"Those were guns and knives, not heavy artillery. Not a single person would go up against something akin to a fleet, and you know that."

Wes briefly fell silent. "Touche."

Bin fixed his gaze on his laptop document. "Anyways, did that Representative say anything exciting before you offed him? Anything new? With how secret they tend to be, and how desperate he was to live, I can only assume he spilled the beans?"

"I didn't off him."

The Bothan paused. "S-sorry, can you repeat that?"

"I didn't get to kill him. Some random assassin did," Wes leaned against the wall, "what he said works with what you were telling me, tbough. According to what he said to me, the Black Suns intended on striking a deal with the Hutts. Trick them into allowing their power seep into other parts of the Galaxy. They want to take down the Bounty Hunters Guild, too."

"They were planning to use all the firepower they could, huh? That's definitely something we could work with," Bin wrinkled his nose, "mind if I ask you something? Did you happen to catch a good look at the assassin?"

"Not really. Their whole face, barring some blonde hair, was covered."

"Interesting. We'll worry about them later," he hummed, closed his laptop, and slid off his bed. "Okay, Wes, you got our attention. You did what we wanted you to do, even if you're not the one who landed the last shot. The info alone is more than enough to get Crux's attention."

That was a relief. His hardwork truly began to pay itself off.

"Come with me, then. Make sure you take your belongings with you." Bin strut into his hallway of complex. "We're taking an elevator."

"Where?"

"Less questions, more following."

The two made their way down the hall and to the designated waiting area. The metal doors themselves seemed similar, the exact pattern to a T... all except for one.

And that single door opened once Bin input a special code on a nearby keypad. Fancy.

The elevator went down, its quickness similar to the ones in the fancier parts of the galaxy...and what Wes saw next wasn't what he expected in the slightest.

Normally, a ride like theirs would lead them to fancy hotels or game rooms. Where they were at now fell into neither category. Instead, Wes was suddenly surrounded by an array if Bothans just like his friend here. Most of them wore gloves and goggles, though.

While some rushed in and out of the wide open room, others scrambled for computers and clipboards. One hologram screen showed a number of dots and lines connected to it; the slide was titled "Trading Hulls." Another map showed a list of names in a language Wes couldn't read, followed by a checkmark or an x at the end of them. Someone yelled in one direction, and was soon squished by four other of their kind.

Was this a laboratory?

The Mandalorian stepped out of the elevator. "Bin? Where are we?"

"I've told you I'm a man of my word. I don't break promises that are easy to keep," he smirked and stepped forward, "You've never seen a Spynet before? Do all your kind live under a rock?"

"No..?"

"Alright, alright, then let me explain," Bin snorted, "there's a reason why I'm not worried about my safety—there's thousands of us. We are all sent to different regions and planets to give and take information. Politicians don't give us the info we need, y'know!"

The two of them walked through the room, and Bin was met by a few hellos here and there. Popular, huh?

"I don't think I've ever seen this many computers at once."

"Politicians don't give you the info you need. All they do is cry about how their actions will be 'better for the galaxy.' It's all jargon, honestly."

"Is it just Bothan here?"

"Droids, too. We once had a few others join in on our little project, but err... many don't speak Bothan nowadays," he shrugged, "besides that, they don't wanna get themselves killed. It's serious business."

"Not just espionage?"

"Bribing, bargaining, and trickery. If they don't wanna go, then they don't go," Bin picked up a tablet from one of the tables. "Anyways, we're almost to his office. It might come off as a shock, but he's quite the formal one to say the least."

If the Bothan could see it, Wes would have smirked right at him. "Then they've got you busy."

"Something like that." He stopped at the rickety door. "Here he is! Tap twice and he'll know it's you. Try not to be so serious. He means well."

And that was the end of that. Bin happily waved goodbye and turned his back, leaving Wes to take a deep breath and to do as he was asked.

-Scene Break-

The door slowly made its way open, and in the middle of a dimly lit room sat an amber-maned Bothan with an eyepatch over his right eye. His wrinkled hands and cheeks told his age all too well.

"Wes, I presume?"

The Mandalorian stepped forward, and the Bothan stepped back into his tattered, black chair. He chuckled.

"Bin Duqum wasn't kidding when he said a guy like you was so quiet. Good to see you, good to see you." He nodded, "I appreciate you coming all the way here."

"I appreciate you taking your time to see me."

Another laugh. "Please, the pleasure is all mine. I apologize for making you go through the motions before you could talk to me, but I assume you understand why we have to take these precautions now?"

A small nod.

"Bin told me all about the lengths you went to get information from me. Even offed the devil himself. Yes, you need not worry; I am the one they call Crux," he scratched where his eyepatch lingered, "he said you were looking for me for intel on the Black Suns?"

"Correct, sir."

"Now, and you'll have to forgive our curiosity, might I ask why? It's not everyday we see people like you."

"They're precisely why," Wes bowed his head. "The Black Suns wiped out the entirety of my clan, Journ. I couldn't stop them. It wasn't until a young man gave me the will to breathe and fight again... and for that, I can't let them keep getting away with what they do."

"Honorable, I like that." Crux nodded, "a shame that it's nothing but a death wish, though. Those who want to take on the Black Suns need to have the money and power to do so."

"Which is why I've been looking for just about anything I can get on them. Fighting them is worth a shot if I have the intel."

"Right. You're in luck, since I have bad blood with them myself," he pointed to his missing eye, "they took this from me took the best one out of both of them, too. And, since you've decided to be oh-so-kind enough to save ol' Duqum… you have my hand in your endeavors."

"Much obliged."

"You wouldn't have been able to leave without repayment anyway!" Crux joked and made the motion only one would if they could wink. He stood back up and turned to the pitch black portion of the room. "Now, watch carefully. Everything I tell the curious, I only tell once."

He clapped his hands together, and a holo chart colored the room. Lots of numbers and lots of names… thankfully, they weren't in the Bothan language. Wes could actually take notes.

"Before you can take down the Black Suns, you gotta take down Prince Xizor's chain of command," another clap, another chart, "Xizor is what they call the 'Underlord of the Black Suns.' Ugly lookin'Falleen, too. He's the leader, he runs Xizor Transport Systems, and – judging by the name – you can already tell that he's considered prestigious in his own right."

"That Transport System have something wrong with it?"

"It's a money-laundering front. Embezzlement. Transfers millions of credits and contraband across the galaxy, and Xizor is rarely seen monitoring it himself. Killing him isn't going to be easy," Crux's hand touched the wall. It pulled up another image, "which is why we're going to be looking at someone else with close ties to him."

He brings up a blonde woman. The figure was similar to what he had seen before.

"Bin relayed the information to me through his laptop. The one who probably performed the coup de grace is none other than Guri. She's Xizor's second-in-command, and a well-taught assassin to boot. She carries most of the day-to-day operations… just about everyone in town considers her a leader of the Syndicate. They're wrong, though."

The holo charts went off the screen, to which Crux stepped forward.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. After Guri are the Vigo, which are selected from their ranks. They're nine different people, so you don't have to worry about there being an overflow of them in the galaxy." Crux chuckled, "Good news, though: the Rep you killed was one of them."

"So, you're saying I gotta kill the remaining eight before I can even consider reaching Prince Xizor."

"Aren't you sharp as a tack? Maybe we should've contracted you instead!" The Bothan nodded. "Correct. You'll systematically bring down the Syndicate that way, and get your revenge. It's a win-win situation. Two birds with one stone."

"Xizor won't have any reason to not come crawling out after his goons are done."

For once, out of this entire talk he had, Crux's smile faded. "Aye, but I'll reiterate one thing: this isn't going to be easy. You're skillful, you're strong, but they're even stronger. They will not rest until they pummel you to the ground. This one Vigo was just a fluke; once you go on this crusade of yours, there's no going back."

"I couldn't go back anyway." Wes looked up to the ceiling. "I came all this way to restore my clan's honor. I wouldn't turn away for the world."

"...Cool. I guess you're deadset on this."

"You bet I am. Where do we start?"

Crux shuffled over to a nearby table and placed his hand onto it. The amount of gizmos and gadgets the Bothan had on him was interesting. "Vandor."

Wes stood right beside him and looked forward. "Vandor?"

"One of our spies was actually looking to some fancy-schmancy party on the planet. Found out a Vigo would be attending." Crux dug into his pant pocket and took one of Wes' hands into his own. A communicator appeared once he released his grip. "Security's tight, so make sure you're ready. Since you're part of our little band of operators now, you can call me or Bin for any help as you see fit. Don't be shy."

"You sure do trust a lot, don't you Crux?" Wes looked down at the communicator.

"Nah. I just know a good fighter or a good heart when I see one." He walked back to his black chair, and posed in it. "See you on the other side. Don't forget to ask for help when you need it!"

-Scene Break-

AEG-77 Vigo. A ship whose silver and gold streaks were proudly worn on the black coating. An outlined sun could be seen next to its lettering, and the hulls were filled to the brim with weaponry of all sorts. Perfect for carrying out messages and guaranteeing tight-lip security aboard the entire vehicle.

Perfect for the titular Vigo. Perfect for the one female Vigo who went back to their ship chambers and pinged a call holo call for a particular Falleen of high rank.

"Prince Xizor speaking. Name and rank."

She said nothing. At least, not until she pulled down her robe to reveal her bright long and pale blue eyes.

"Ah, Guri. I assume you've taken care of what I asked for?"

"Affirmative, Your Highness. Ran Das' transgressions have been taken care of."

The black-and-silverfaced man strummed his cheek. "A shame, really. One of the strongest that we have, and yet he outlived his usefulness so quickly. It was for the best, considering he was about to leak some… sensitive information."

"Correct, sir. I am glad I was able to reach him beforehand," she kept her hands in her lap as she spoke, "though, that does beg the question: what of the Mandalorian? Should I give chase?"

"No need, he poses no threat to me. Even if he should, he will find himself in in his own grave before he has the chance to speak." He hummed, "Return to Coruscant as soon as possible. I have another job for you, but it's not one I can particularly trust others on the ship with. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes sir, of course. I will be there posthaste."

Vigo normally did not end the call. It only showed how much respect the man had for her to be allowed to. She took this moment to regain her composure, and flipped the hood back over her head. It wasn't often that she was praised by the Prince for her work.

She'd make sure to maintain that status with him, no matter the cost.

And that's a wrap.

I can't believe so much has happened in the chapter.

Wes now has the Bothan Spynet at his side which is very useful in his war against the Black Sun.

The Bothan Spynet is considered the very best spy network of all of Star Wars galaxy and no other spy network can come close so Wes literally has all of any information at his finger tips and for him to use at his disposal.

The Black Suns are gearing up for something big and Prince Xizor at the helm means trouble for inhabitants of the galaxy. Guri has made her appearance known and what she does next is up in the air for the moment.

I'm glad this chapter is done and out of the way as I can get to work on the next chapter which is gonna be a big one so stick around to find out what it is.

This isn't the last will see of the Mandalorian Wes Journ, his mission is the entry point to appear in any other chapters or maybe he'll run into our favorite band of intergalactic outlaws. What do I mean by that, well you'll have to find that out for yourself.

Anyways, check out the main story Avengers: Infinite Wars by Free Man Writer and Jebest to get the full story and the state of the SW galaxy in the latest chapter. A lot of things are going down and you don't want to miss it. So stay tune.

If any of you have questions, leave a comment and review which is very much appreciated.

Everyone, take care