This city was going to kill him.

Din had spent hours searching for a quiet place to stay, and all he could find was a seedy looking inn that was clearly a hub for black market trading. If he'd been alone it wouldn't have mattered, but he had his youngling to think of, and he had no desire to sleep with a knife under his pillow and a blaster in his hand. In the end, he was forced to settle on a place that was in the middle of the city for lack of better options.

He waited until nightfall before venturing out into the festival. The child was safe inside the satchel at his hip, and Din hoped it wouldn't attempt to peek outside. D'Thracc was like one giant pleasure house, filled with gambling, drinking, carousing, and love-making at every turn, and just as the fish-woman had predicted, the inhabitants of the city seemed obsessed with Din. Everywhere he went, amorous eyes seemed to follow. He'd only been outside for a few hours and he'd already received seven marriage proposals, several invitations to a "choosing ceremony", a box of candies, and vials of multicolored liquid he assumed were psychedelics. Inappropriate gifts for a man who obviously had a child in his care, yet the candies did keep The Child occupied. And speaking of occupied...

Din handed it another candy as its fingers reached into his field of vision. It took one look at it and handed it back. Din randomly grabbed another and offered it for its inspection, and this time The Child accepted it. They'd gone through this dance several times in the last hour, but Din wasn't too upset. It was keeping The Kid happy and quiet, which was enough for him.

He went back to his inspection of the skiff from the shadows of the dock.

His mark's name was Sabin, a Lol'go, the same species as his client. It hadn't taken him long to locate her, and though he'd only been there a short time he was already considering heading back to the hotel. She was hosting a small party on the dock, and clearly wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

As he absentmindedly slipped one of the discarded candies under his mask and into his mouth, he wondered if he should stop taking jobs that involved civil disputes. They were morally grey jobs that usually began messy and ended badly, which is why he preferred to get his money capturing criminals. There typically wasn't any question regarding their guilt in the eyes of the law.

Din blinked slowly. There must have been something wrong with him, because the heavy fog appeared to be swirling to the music while the water beneath glowed as red as the moon. He started to sweat, and tried to lift his finger to pull at his collar only to lose his balance and slump against a pole. Overcome by an incredible lethargy, he was unable to support himself and slid all the way to the floor, watching as the candies bounced out of the box in his hand and scatter like blaze bugs through the cracks in the wood planks.

He sat there for an hour or a moment, he couldn't tell, when there was a pounding like drums. Then things began to tilt as he was lifted to his feet. He registered a voice laced with concern and allowed himself to be led into a brightly lit room. His eyes were drawn to a torch that sparkled on the wall as he fell onto his back, and mere moments later felt a sharp sting in his neck. The effects were almost instantaneous. He barely had time to lift the bottom of his helmet as he gagged and lost the contents of his stomach into a pitcher. When it was clear he had nothing left to give, he wiped his face and fell back against the pillow. His mind was much clearer now, although his body ached like he'd been run over by a mudhorn.

"You shouldn't have eaten the candy." A voice said.

Din felt around for his satchel, but came up empty. "Where is it?"

"He's here, and very happy."

He heard a slurp and a laugh, and tipped his head to the side. The Child was sitting on a cushion nearby, splashing the contents of the bowl in its lap all over its face and tunic while looking completely unapologetic about it.

"It's balka greens. It will help with his mental acuity. It is also a good hangover cure." Tentacles reached over to hand him a cup with a straw.

It was Sabin.

Din accepted the offering and took a slow sip.

"Rule number one of D'es Valen T'ni, never accept candy from strangers. You are fortunate that not all of them contained the drug, or else the child would have suffered the effects as well."

Fortune, or fate? He looked again at the little one, who was gracing him with a green toothy grin. He had a feeling The Foundling had known about the drugs all along, which explained why it had been so choosy with the candies. If he'd been paying closer attention, perhaps he would have realized sooner and saved himself the embarrassment of passing out on the dock.

"Why are you here Mandalorian? I highly doubt it is for the festival, for I don't believe your kind choose mates in this way."

"I'm here for a job."

"Hmm." She said, and Din got the feeling she had already guessed why he'd been standing on her particular dock.

Yet she remained composed as she wiped a fleck of leaf off The Child's ear and straightened it's collar. "I suppose you're being paid very well."

"I'm beginning to think not well enough."

She smiled. "You can always ask a higher price. J'rell can afford to pay since he cheats half the merchants of the city in his gaming houses."

He didn't bother to ask how she'd known he'd been hired by J'rell. Sabin was clearly intelligent enough to put two and two together.

He examined her closely as he took another sip of balka. She wasn't acting like a jealous lover as his client had claimed. In fact, she appeared to be quite happy. If he were to hazard a guess, he'd say J'rell was the jealous one in the relationship. Yet regardless of this fact, he always finished a job. It's what kept him in business and maintained his reputation.

But somehow this didn't feel right. He was a man of honor, and a man of honor didn't put away decent people for a few credits.

He set aside his cup and stood, a plan already forming in his mind. "Thank you for your kindness and hospitality. If it's not too much to ask, could I borrow one of your cloaks? My armor makes me feel more conspicuous here than I prefer. I will gladly pay you for it."

"No need. It is my gift."

Despite this town's faulty degree of admiration for love-making, Din couldn't deny that they excelled at hospitality.

When Sabin reappeared with the cloak, he threw it over his shoulders and picked up The Baby. "If I were you, I'd leave D'Thracc after sundown tomorrow."

"Sage advice. I have been meaning to visit family across planet for some time."

"And maybe you can arrange to buy a new skiff. It seems likely that someone will notice when this one is gone."

"I understand."

He hesitated at the door. "I'm sorry."

She smiled sadly. "So am I."


Din suddenly found himself with a lot of time on his hands, and gladly took the opportunity to stay inside as often as possible. He went out in the morning the next day to buy The Child a tunic and a new toy, and for an hour in the evening to gather intel on his next mark. The rest of the time was spent keeping The Child entertained.

As it neared sundown on the third day, he strapped on his satchel with The Kid inside and slipped on the cloak, making his way back to the seedy hotel. He waited across the room for half an hour, watching his mark from a safe distance. The Lol'go was the general size and shape as Sabin, although a little shabbier in appearance, but he thought they might pass as the same person in the dark. The creature was already a few drinks deep when Din ordered one from the barkeep and added one of his colorful vials into the mug. With any luck the creature would pass out, and he had a feeling the it would be too drunk to be suspicious, a theory that was proven correct almost as soon as he sat down at the table.

"I was wondering if you know where I might find some Thresh."

"You've come to the right place." The creature slurred. "I know how to get the good stuff."

Din pushed the mug towards it. "Have a drink on me."

"Don't mind if I do." It grinned, and almost immediately finished the glass. Within seconds of wiping it's lips of foam, it's eyes had rolled back into it's head and it slumped senseless onto the table.

Din put the creature in cuffs and slipped Sabin's cloak onto its shoulders.

"With any luck nobody will be able to tell the difference until we're long gone."

He heard The Child babble something in response.

"Right." He grunted as he heaved the unconscious dealer over his shoulder and began his short trek down to the docks.

He made it right at sundown, and dumped the senseless body in front of his client's contact.

"J'rell didn't tell you to kill her." The crustacean wrinkled its face in distaste.

"Not dead, just passed out."

The contact didn't take much time to inspect the Lol'go, barely giving it a once over before sniffing. "Very well. Your money and supplies are already on the barge, and the taxi is paid for."

He looked over and realized that he would be taken back to his ship by the same fish-wife that brought him into the city. She was trying not to look disapproving, but was failing miserably. He confirmed his payment before stepping on board. "Tell J'rell he has one less problem to worry about."

The contact didn't bother to reply as the fish-wife guided them out of the port and into the enveloping mist. The trip took over an hour in a stifling silence. She didn't attempt to address him until the Razorcrest loomed into view.

"That was a bad deal Mandalorian. Sabin was a good woman. She doesn't deserve to be handed over to those crooks."

"She wasn't."

The fish-wife frowned. "But the body..."

He shrugged. "In the dark one Lol'go looks like another. Sabin is still free and D'Thracc has one less dealer on its streets."

A slow grin spread across her wrinkled face. "You are an honorable man."

As soon as he'd finished offloading his goods, she pushed off the dock with a wave. "Safe travels Mandalorian, and may you find solace in the arms of a lover's embrace."

As he raised in arm in farewell, the face of one particular widow flashed across his mind, and he found that the loneliness was not so painful as it had been before.

Perhaps this place had cured him after all.