Several weeks later the base had been built and the lion's share of the supplies had been brought in. The Governor hadn't been able to supply them with the haulers, so they'd had to rely on the speeders. It had meant hard days on the road riding the speeder bikes, but everyone got a turn spending the week in the city, which mean sani-steams, soft beads, and fresh food. Skira's only regret was that they were limited to only one of them going to the city at the time. It meant spending roughly two weeks without Raana at a go.
Still, it allowed him to get to know the other Mando'ad better, and Ryn was excited for the time in civilization. He'd had to practically beat her off the hotel room bed and away from the holoplayer multiple times. Still, it was nice to see his Twi'lek flourish away from the often dreary and boring dig.
He watched as Raana and Ordo headed out on their bikes, escorting the convoy back to the city where Mrssk was guarding the expeditions remaining gear.
"It seems you two are getting along well," Shada said, sounding quite pleased through the comm.
Skira reflected it was a good thing they were used to living in their armor. The problem excavating in a near vacuum like Sweldan, was that everyone had to live in their environmental suits. Their beskar'gam was set to last for nearly twenty-four hours, but most of the suits the academics had were good for about eight to ten hours depending on the biological needs of the wearer.
"I will defer to your knowledge of women and relationships, vod," Skira replied.
"Ordo gets the same look whenever he watches me ride off," Shada said, placing a gauntlet on his armored shoulder.
"You can't even see my face," Skira pointed out dryly.
"I don't need to," Shada said. "I've been married five years, and betrothed for a year before that. I've seen that look on the face of my husband, and on my father and uncle so many times, I don't even need to to see your face to see it."
Skira grunted.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," Shada said, her voice pitched low even though they were the only ones on the comm-line at the moment.
"If you're going to ask what it's like," Skira said dryly, "I'm not telling."
"Not about that, idiot," Shada said, smacking his chest with the back of her hand. "It's about Professor Meld'an."
"What about him," Skira asked, growing serious.
"When we were hired," Shada said. "He put it that he was part of the archaeological expedition, yet since we've gotten here, that's been run by Professor Kiro. Every time I see him, Meld'an has been working in the medical lab or with the doctors and the med-droids."
"You're point?" Skira asked.
"We're on a dead planet," Shada said, "Yet we've got three medical droids and seven doctors to serve a crew of around fifty people. Eight if Meld'an is one too. We've got a fully functional bio-lab that is sealed and off limits, and enough medical research equipment to staff most outer rim med-centers wet dreams."
Skira was silent as he thought, turning to look back at the pyramid. So far, none of the Mando'ad had gone inside except for the most cursory of looks to ensure there weren't any immediate security threats.
"You think there's more to this dig than we were told?" Skira asked.
"More like it's being uses as a cover," Shada said. "Those Arkanians are obsessed with genetics, said to be on the same level as the Kamino'ad. I know the Republic likes to play itself as an enlightened government that values knowledge, but ever since the Galactic Alliance was formed..."
She trailed off, but Skira knew what she was implying. The Vongese had made allies of perennial enemies as the threat of total destruction loomed. Republic and Empire had joined into one government, basically, and the Empire had never been concerned with niceties like ethics when power was on the table.
Now, they were going to all this trouble for a hundred thousand year old temple belonging to a ancient empire that had once been masters of terraforming, genetics, and the Force.
"They are a different people than us," Skira pointed out. "It could be legit."
"Maybe," Shada said. "Still, I don't trust it."
"So why ask me?" Skira said.
"Because I want you to help me get inside the lab," Shada said.
Skira let out a soft chuckle.
"I'm no good at hacking my way past security," he said, "but you're more than welcome to blow us all to hell with my explosives."
"No, too obvious," Shada said. "I want to borrow Ryn. Have her put on a show for everyone. I'm assuming she's a trained entertainer, well versed in dancing. Given how tired and stressed everyone is, I'm sure they'd welcome a night's show."
"And you want to do it now because..." Skira asked, trailing off.
"Because Raana and Ordo are out of the way," Shada said. "Raana is a good woman, she does what she must, but she is still a woman. We might not value the softer things in our women, but Ryn is a reminder of what Raana could have been."
"A slave?" Skira asked.
"Sensual. Seductive. Not just mesh'la, but beautiful as the aruetiise see it. Ryn is everything Raana could have been, and yet so much of what she isn't and is denied being as Mando'ad." Shada said softly. There was something to the woman's voice, a longing, almost.
"I see," Skira said.
"You don't," Shada replied, shaking her head. "And that is too your credit. You look at Raana and you see the most beautiful creature in the world, because you are true Mando'ad. It's something she's grateful for, believe me, but I know how she feels. I've experienced it myself."
Skira let out a questioning grunt.
"I spent five years away from our people, out of armor. We all get medic training, but my clan wanted me to become an actual doctor of medicine, something we rarely have. So, they worked out some deals, and I was allowed into a medical school. I was good, but I was also very different from the females and women around me. While many of them found lovers, I was constantly passed over for the delicate flowers that surrounded me. Most men want silk in their hands and on their privates, not steel."
"It was a constant reminder that I was built for war and not for love," Shada said, a soft, sad tone to her voice. "I grew jealous, hated them. I started to put aside my training, I stopped working out. I tried to become like them so that I could have what they had. I nearly became dar'manda."
"What happened?" Skira asked.
"Ordo happened," Shada said with a laugh. It was surprisingly delicate, coming from such a hardened woman. "One day, while we were doing our clinicals, this burly Mando comes bursting through the emergency room door, one arm wrapped around the neck of some Wookie, half his guts spilling out on the floor, screaming his head off as he punched the thing unconscious. Everyone was freaking terrified, of course."
"Except you," Skira said.
"Except me," Shada replied. "Especially when he pulled out his blaster and started waving it around, screaming in Mando'a, standing on top of this wookie he'd just beaten down. Clearly out of it and going to die if someone didn't do something. So I did. I grabbed a chair, smashed it over his head, and told him to stop being shit for brains, that this was a hospital, and to give me the damn blaster, all in perfect Mando'a. He was so stunned he didn't even bother to stop me as I disarmed him. The wookie started to get up again, so I shot it, forced him out of his armor, and started treating him."
"After that, he followed me around like a strill pup, and was just as smelly half the time," Shada continued. Her words were harsh, but her voice was full of love. "Refused to leave the planet, most of the time he refused to leave the city. Hunting down whatever petty criminals he could to get by, he eventually bullied the hospital to hire him on as security, all so he could stick around me, no matter how many times I yelled at him to go away. Ignored every woman there too, no matter how beautiful, delicate, talented, rich, or flirtatious she was. He only had eyes for me. Only I couldn't see it, or see myself the way he did. Not anymore."
"So what happened?" Skira asked, honestly curious.
"One night, a bunch of bikers came in. Their friend was injured, they started waving their blasters around, demanding we help them. One of them put a blaster right in my face and I froze." Shada said. "Ordo wasn't having any of that. He gunned them down, walked over to me, smashed me in the head with his helmet and screamed at me that I was god damn Mando'ad and it was time to fucking remember who I was. The next thing I know, I'm standing there, in shock, bleeding from a cut on my scalp from where he'd hit me, and he was reciting the marriage oath."
"I did the only thing I could think of doing," Shada said, the smile obvious in her voice. "I married him, then and there. Walked out the door with him, went to the apartment I was renting to pick up my armor, and we blasted off the planet that very night. I never looked back. My clan wasn't terribly happy with me, but Ordo made them see sense."
Skira was silent for a long moment.
"Raana is smarter than my husband," Shada said. "Just like I am. But sometimes being smarter isn't always better. The problem with being able to question things about the world around it is that it often ends up making you question yourself. About who you are, what you are, and what you should be. Someday, if you stick together, Raana will trust in how you see her, the same way I trust in Ordo, but for now, she isn't ready and Ryn makes her question herself and where she stands as a woman and with you."
Skira grunted, trying to make sense of the woman's words. Everything about it was alien. He'd just have to take her word for it.
"And the reason you wanted Ordo gone?" he asked.
"Not out of jealousy, believe me," Shada said with a snort. "He'd take one look at Ryn dancing, one look at me, and feel the overwhelming need to remind me that I was the beautiful one. Hardly conductive to a covert raid."
"I suppose that's fair enough," Skira said. He let out a sigh. "Alright, I'll ask Ryn if she's willing to put on a show. When would you want it?"
"In three days," Shada said. "Everyone will be mostly settled down from the excitement from the latest delivery, but not keyed up about the next. I want them bored and desperate, so no one gets tempted to avoid it."
"What about Meld'an?" Skira asked. "He hardly seems the type to be interested in a lewd dance or two."
"No, but he is absolutely a culture snob," Shada replied. "Which we're going to provide. I assume you play the Bes'bev and didn't just name your ship after it?"
"A bit," Skira admitted. "I'm slightly out of practice."
"Well, you got three days to brush up on it." Shada said. "You'll put on an evenings cultural exchange, Twi'lek dancing and traditional Mando'ad music. How can the snob resist?"
"What about you?" Skira asked. "It might be obvious you're missing."
"If they ask, I'll be on patrol." Shada said with a shrug. "We've been expecting an attack since we've gotten here, yet none of our supplies on site or in the city have been hit yet. Which tells me that either we're free and clear, or someone is planning something very big. At least, that's what I'll tell the old farts if they ask."
"You think someone is?" Skira asked.
Shada was silent for a moment. They watched as a team of archaeologists exited the temple, loaded down with the day's findings to be processed in the lab. The familiar fishbowl of Professor Kiro bobbled among them. Skira felt sorry for the man, if he was honest. It was bad enough breathing in constantly recycled air. It had to be even worse with the limited water they had. Word was, as soon as the engineers managed to find a water source with all their drilling, they were going to make him a tank he could relax and sleep in.
"I think with the equipment I think Medl'an has brought here, there should be," Shada said finally. "And the fact that it hasn't happened yet makes me worried that the people who would steal it know something we don't and it's keeping them away."
The implications left him feeling cold despite his armor's insulation.
"Alright," he said. "I'll put on a show and get Ryn to dance," he said. "You find out what's in that lab."