Traitor of Mandalore

Ryloth:

The Imperial Lieutenant paced nervously back and forth. He was young, only just arrived on Ryloth and commanding his first patrol on his own. The harsh wind blew across the mesa, kicking up the dust found frequently in this region of the pathetic world. Behind the officer, a few of the structures in the village smoldered from what was left of the conflagrations that had engulfed them not an hour prior.

The platoon of Stormtroopers dispersed in a wide perimeter. Two AT-STs loomed over the scene, as the heavy support. Corralled within the village square were the four hundred Twi'lek residents, men, women, and children. One hundred and fifty of that number, the most able-bodied adults, were separated from the main group under their own guard, female Twi'leks disproportionally outnumbering the males. The captives were seated on the ground, held in place by the trained blasters of the Imperials. A few tried to resist, tried to be brave in the eyes of their neighbors, but for nothing. They were shot down before they could offer any sort of meaningful fight. Their bodies strewn about the vacated streets.

The village was comprised of shacks and structures built from cheaply mixed duracrete in the traditional Twi'lek style, none more than two or three stories high. It was a small collection of buildings arranged on the best lots available, no consideration given to organized or uniformly divided streets.

It had been a quick raid. The Stormtroopers catching the inhabitants just before dawn, many still in their beds. The Twi'leks were dragged from their homes and gathered in the square. They had no weapons. What meager opposition to the Imperials was crushed, and it was over in a matter of minutes.

There was a general silence, the only noise heard was the wind, as it wrapped its way among the dwellings and narrow alleys. The Lieutenant was dressed in his duty uniform with a heavy trench coat worn over, which he clung tightly to for relief from the cold. A contrast to the battered and weathered white armor of the Stormtroopers, the dirtied appearance a testament to their extended deployment on Ryloth.

"They're late," the Lieutenant said, stepping close to the platoon's sergeant.

"They'll be here," came the filtered reply from the Sergeant, a scowl hidden beneath the Stormtrooper helmet.

The crack of engine thrusters broke across the sky, easily drowned out the sound from the wind. It was a Mandalorian built Gra'tuar-class light freighter. Similar in design to the Meteor-class Q-Carrier, though twice the size, the Gra'tuar boasted two decks and a forward loading ramp.

The craft grabbed the attention of those on the ground, as they stared upward. Making a large circle in the sky, the freighter reduced its throttle and began its descent. A large clearing just outside of the village would serve as a landing site. And so, the freighter came in low, engaged its repulsors once the reduced airspeed could no longer generate lift.

The Lieutenant signaled for the Sergeant and another Stormtrooper to accompany him over to the touching down craft. They waited several meters from the vessel, as the landing thrusters sent up a cloud of the loose dirt that blanketed the area in a haze. The large forward cargo ramp, which stretched almost the width of the ship's bow, slowly lowered. The Lieutenant, neglecting to have brought his goggles, struggled to see through the still heavy dust that hung in the air.

The first Mandalorian emerged from the ramp, stepped from the interior of the freighter. He was dressed in a faded blue jumpsuit, a light grey hue beskar chest plate matched his pauldrons, topped with an onyx helmet. The sigil for Clan Adenn was visible on the left pauldron, for a simple cloak hung over his right. The only visible weapon carried by this Mandalorian was a WESTAR-35 blaster pistol holstered on his right hip.

This Mandalorian, Adenn, was not alone, a second emerged from the hold of the freighter. Female, by the physique she cut in the tan jumpsuit with all burgundy colored beskar armor. In her hands was a weathered E-11, Imperial issue, though it looked over a decade old and showed the signs of wear over that time. After making her way down the ramp, she stopped a few meters behind the first Mandalorian, to his right.

To their opposite, only ten meters away, the Lieutenant and his Stormtrooper retinue took up a position. The two groups stared at the other, helmets of the Mandalorians and Stormtroopers able to conceal any sign of outward expression. The Lieutenant felt irritated by the unmoving Mandalorian that stood before him.

"You're late," said the frustrated Lieutenant.

There came no response from the Mandalorian, no retort to the petulant Imperial officer. The only sounds came from the wind cresting the plateau, the freighter's engines spinning down, and excess jets of condensation being discharged from vents in the hull. The silence fueled the growing impatience in the now exasperated Lieutenant.

"Well," the Lieutenant began. "Do we plan on standing around here?"

"You are not Major Jannic," the Mandalorian spoke, voice dampened by the helmet.

"The Major is supervising the withdrawal of the garrison. As such, he is sequestered for the duration and unable to attend this…parlay. He has sent me in his place."

"Tion'jor cuyir vi koor ti ibic or'dinii?" the woman spoke up in Mando'a.

Adenn raised an abrupt hand to silence her interruption. A look of confusion paired with annoyance on the Lieutenant's face. Clearly unable to understand the Mandalorian's spoken language, he scowled.

"Is there going to be a problem," said the Lieutenant, annoyed.

"Major Jannic, I know," uttered the Mandalorian. "You, I do not."

The Stormtrooper to the Lieutenant's right stepped forward several paces, overtaking the officer in positioning. The sudden advance was met by an expression of consternation from the Lieutenant, as he was not expecting such a maneuver. The Stormtrooper was the platoon sergeant.

"Major Jannic sends his respects," the Sergeant spoke in Mando'a. "He regrets that he could not attend. If he were here, I am sure he would apologize for the manner in which this 'shabuir' conducts himself."

The Sergeant turned slightly to indicate the Lieutenant, before returning his attention to the pair of Mandalorians. The situation began to relax, as it was evident the Mandalorians were dealing with one of their own.

The Mandalorian man returned a nod of acknowledgement while the Mandalorian woman turned and waved towards the ship. From the hold, two additional Mandalorians emerged. Each held a WESTAR-35a carbine and escorted a stack of three crates hovering by repulsor sled. The lid of the first crate was opened, as the Imperial gazed inside at the neatly arranged blocks of credits.

"Fifty thousand," the Mandalorian spoke. "Healthy, I assume?"

"Best as can be found in these parts," the Lieutenant quipped, running a gloved hand over the top layer of credits. "Twi'leks, not the most advanced of civilizations, but they do know their place."

"Shabuir - ashnar paklalat!" the Mandalorian woman spoke up.

The lack of comprehension of Mando'a on the Lieutenant's part touched off his final nerve. Turning abruptly, he raised a finger pointed at the woman. The rage shown by his expression was palpable.

"Her!" the Imperial exclaimed. "What did she say!?"

"You have received your payment," replied Adenn. "Have our cargo loaded aboard the ship and our business will be concluded."

Nothing more was said by the Mandalorian, who crossed his arms and kept his helmeted gaze fixed upon the Imperials. The incensed Lieutenant scoffed and threw up a hand. The Trooper Sergeant interpreted the signal and touched a hand to his helmet to activate his comms. Immediately, the Stormtroopers pushed the separated group of Twi'leks to their feet.

A few protested, shouted their insults or begged to be released. Other Stormtroopers leveled their blasters to force compliance. The villagers who were to remain stayed seated in place, hands held on their heads. The grind of the AT-ST servos echoed, as the walkers trained their cannons on the groups. A heartbreaking scene for those who had to experience it. Families were torn apart, as the selected group was marched towards the Mandalorian freighter. Only the cold, expressionless helmets of the Stormtroopers stared back at the pitiful lot.

Half the Stormtrooper platoon kept the non-selected Twi'leks under guard, while the desirable ones were escorted by the remainder to the Mandalorian ship. The Imperials warned the AT-STs would level what remained of the village and slaughter everyone if there was a mass effort to escape. The Twi'leks were, by nature, a submissive people. They held no false illusions as to the fate of those selected, being taken away by the Mandalorians. And they also knew the Imperials would not hesitate to act on the threats of force.

The Twi'leks marched up the ramp of the freighter and into the hold, fear and panic gripped their numbers. The hold in which they were placed was a large cage that encompassed most of the compartment, able to barely and uncomfortably contain the one hundred and fifty Twi'leks. There were no beds, no seats, and no amenities for the involuntary passengers. The only option was to find an open spot on the floor among the cramped mass. The upper deck was visible through the bars that covered the top of the cage. It revealed catwalks running the entire length of the hold's interior and were patrolled by armored Mandalorians equipped with WESTAR carbines.

The Lieutenant had his back turned to the Mandalorian ship, not even noticing the ramp close after the last Twi'lek was shoved aboard. His attention was focused on the credits amassed from the transaction. The most pressing concerns were their distribution among the Troopers who participated in this operation. It was not like the influx of credits would be noticed by superiors, not with the Empire in its current shape.

The interior cage doors were shut and bolted closed. Some of the Twi'leks pressed against the bars to plead in futility to be released by their captors. A majority accepted the fate that awaited them at their destination and settled down to make themselves as comfortable as one could be, given their surroundings.

"Twi'leks, iba' laandur droten," the woman said, as she scornfully assessed the quarry.

"You think too highly of them, Haurn," Adenn replied, jokingly.

He turned to the ladder attached to the starboard bulkhead, adjacent to the ramp and began to climb. The ladder led to the upper deck, which accessed the cockpit, crew bunks, and the catwalks. The woman gritted her teeth, brushed off the remark before she followed. Two Mandalorians closest to the cage drew shock sticks from their belts and extended the electrostatic batons. They jabbed the noncompliant Twi'leks who were reluctant or slow to back away from the gate with painful electric bolts.

Lenk Adenn climbed into the pilot's seat of the Gra'tuar-class light freighter christened the Orress. The craft responded, as Adenn tapped the controls to activate the repulsors and takeoff. Within moments, the Orress throttled up and shot skyward to break orbit. He leaned back in his seat while the computer went to work plotting a course to Nar Shaddaa, deep within Hutt Space. Pulling a small holo-emitter on a chain from around his neck, Adenn placed it on the flight console and the bright glow materialized an image.

It featured a projected Adenn embracing a beautiful woman with an infant boy cradled between the couple. The Mandalorian gazed cheerfully on the family he had been separated from for so long. A momentary lapse to thoughts of days past, as the Orress slipped into hyperspace.

"How long has it been?" asked the familiar voice in Mando'a.

The woman, Haurn, pulled herself into the co-pilot's seat for the flight. Adenn deactivated the holo-emitter and placed it back around his neck. Not an abrupt movement, not trying to hide the device out of embarrassment.

"Nearly five years," Adenn replied. "Not since things went to shit on Mandalore, the Purge. Doubt my son would even know who I am."

Haurn was not interested in small talk, she crossed her arms, and settled into the chair. Adenn shifted his gaze to the viewport and the glowing hyperspace tunnel beyond. The memories of his family flashed through his mind. The day he put them aboard the last transport off the Moon. He tried to justify it, it was for their protection, getting them off Concordia before the Empire could exact their wrath.

"Why do you carry that relic," Adenn nudged Haurn in a jovial way, pointing to the battered E-11 that rested on the viewport ledge.

"It belonged to someone I knew," she replied, coldly.

"Your vod, or a cyare'se?"

There was no response from Haurn, who turned her pivoting chair in a direction so as not to face Adenn.

"Hey, you asked a question, so I get one as well," Adenn laughed. "I'll find out one of these days."

Still met by silence, Adenn shrugged it off and made a check of the navicomputer. The course was correct and there were no interruptions to report, so he reclined the chair a bit then closed his eyes.

It was several hours later when a yellow indicator light flashed along with a low tone alarm. Not a serious alert, simply an indication the ship was decelerating and would revert to realspace. To reach Nar Shaddaa from Ryloth, the Orress would need to adjust course onto a separate hyperspace lane. It was not a complex maneuver, but it required the ship to exit hyperspace to plot and then execute a second jump from the Milagro System. They would then be able to follow the Gamor Run for the duration of the voyage.

The hyperspace tunnel collapsed, as the starlines retracted to a scattering of bright specks across the darkness. The faint glow of Milagro shown in the distance. The space closest to the planet was a bustle of activity, shuttles and commercial vessels circling the many orbital trade ports. The Mandalorians were well outside of the orbital traffic zone, as they prepared to make their next jump.

Immediately, the sensor alarm began to shriek, contact spotted at less than one hundred thousand kilometers ahead. Adenn looked up from the navicomputer where he worked on the next set of calculations. He shifted his focus to the sensor suite, which relayed an ominous report.

"Have you flown us into a sun!?" Haurn barked, the sound roused her from a restful state. "What is that noise!?"

"Nebulon-B frigate on the scope," replied Adenn, working quickly to disable the autopilot and gain manual control.

"Imperial?"

"They aren't using an Imperial IFF."

"Rebels…that's just what we need."

The calculations for the next jump were still processing and would require several more minutes to ensure their preciseness. It was time the Mandalorians did not have. As Adenn worked the plots into the computer, the communications board glowed with the notification of an incoming hail.

"Looks like they want to talk," said Adenn. "Sonya see if you can't lead them on, buy us some time."

Haurn scoffed at the casual, almost friendly use of her given name. Ignoring her contempt, Adenn punched in the coordinates and fed as much data into the navicomputer to expedite the process. It was not a run out of cowardice, for Mandalorians do not retreat. But committing oneself to a completely unnecessary battle was the mark of a fool. The cargo in the hold was more valuable and its delivery took precedence over a drawn-out fight. Haurn touched a switch to acknowledge the hail and opened a channel.

"Unidentified cargo vessel," a projected voice began. "This is the New Republic Frigate Legacy. You are operating in a commercial hyperlane without authorized New Republic registration. Bring your engines to stop and prepare to be boarded. Have your manifest and cargo ready for inspection."

"New Republic! You sure let that win at Endor go to your head," quipped Haurn in response, struggling with the Basic she had not spoken often in the recent years.

"Cargo vessel. This is your only warning. Reduce to a full stop and prepare to be boarded for inspection. Fail to comply and we will open fire!"

Haurn cut the feed and turned to Adenn. Two A-Wings dropped out of hyperspace in the vicinity of the frigate and sped toward the Orress. The fighters on standby, made an in system jump upon orders from the larger ship.

"I said keep them distracted," grunted Adenn.

"Maybe if you didn't take so long with your calculations…" replied Haurn.

The New Republic vessels were too close, and he knew there was insufficient time to finish the calculations. Pressing back into his seat, Adenn flipped two switches, one activated the ship's general quarters alarm, and the other raised the shields. Raising the shields would be observed by the frigate and interpreted as a hostile action. Adenn had to move quickly if they wanted to make it out of this situation. Letting the New Republic send their sailors aboard for an inspection was not an option, given the illicit Twi'lek cargo.

The Orress automatically locked its targeting computer onto the support strut that connected the frigate's bow and aft sections. It fed the data directly to the retractable concussion missile tubes that deployed on either side of the freighter. Adenn had his finger on the flight stick's trigger and pulled. Firing as quickly as the target computer could lock increased the chance of scoring a hit before the frigate could bring its shields online, having to react to the sudden aggressive actions of the Mandalorians.

Two concussion missiles sped away from the Orress at their maximum velocity, quickly closing the distance between the opposing vessels. The first missile slammed into the frigate, just behind the bow section. The impact and subsequent blast tore a massive hole in the ship's port side. Debris violently jettisoned into space before the emergency force field could activate to stop the decompression. The second missile was incoming, meters away from the hull before it exploded prematurely, destroyed by the frigate's now activated point defense cannon.

There was little time for Adenn to assess the damage dealt, as he banked the Orress hard to starboard and throttled the ion engines to flank impulse speed. The general quarters alarm still blared its warning for those aboard to get to their action stations. Songh, the engineer, was closest to the dorsal turret and made her way to the fire control seat at its base. While Ghax Tyl, the elder, entered the cockpit and took the third seat just behind the pilot at the tactical station.

Hostile tracking and weapons systems could all be managed through the crewed tactical station, which freed up Adenn to focus solely on piloting the ship. With the engines firing at full power, the Orress accelerated away from the frigate, as it recovered from the sudden attack. The two A-Wings activated their thrusters in pursuit, quickly closed the distance and prepared for an attack run. The fighters had a definite advantage in acceleration.

The gunner swung the dorsal turret aft. Provided with targeting assistance from Tyl at the cockpit's tactical station, the twin laser cannons of the turret opened fire. Bolts of golden lasers streaked across the dark vacuum of space. One passing within several meters of the lead A-Wing. The A-Wings rolled sharply to avoid the incoming shots, disrupting their ability to return fire. Bolt after bolt let loose from the turret, as it tracked the fighters and matched their movements with automated adjustments.

The frigate came about to join the chase. Adenn knew the Orress could outrun the frigate at impulse, but if the A-Wings landed a shot to damage his engines, there would be no escape.

The turret on the Mandalorian freighter tracked again. The pilot of the A-Wing closest could not maneuver fast enough. Another salvo fired from the laser cannon blasted the fighter apart in a brilliant explosion. That was one less Rebel, or rather New Republic, ship to worry about. The second A-Wing was undeterred by the loss of its comrade. It engaged the afterburners and caught up to the freighter.

The A-Wing let out a burst of laser cannon fire at the aft thrusters of the Orress. The deflector shields were able to absorb the shots for the most part. Tyl watched the energy of the shields critically weaken. It was concerning a small pursuit craft could drain the shields in just one pass.

"Shields just went critical!" Tyl called out from the tactical station.

"How did an A-Wing manage that!?" barked Haurn. "I thought you maintained this ship!"

"We can speculate later, I'm a little busy at the moment," Adenn fired back.

Adenn jerked the controls of the Orress to bank sharply in a direction counter to that of the A-Wing. Following the tracking sensor's display of the flight path for the A-Wing, Adenn noticed the fighter turn in a direction that brought it closer to the frigate. The A-Wing posed a threat the freighter needed to immediately destroy, but the freighter would need a significant course alteration to get into an attack position. The course alteration would bring it in range of the Nebulon-B. In effect, the A-Wing was trying to lure the Orress into the guns of the frigate.

When Adenn did not take the bait, the A-Wing swung around to launch another attack run. The fighter's pilot would not copy the same mistake of its recently destroyed wingman, using sharp, randomized maneuvers to spoof the targeting sensors and prevent the turret cannons from acquisition. The A-Wing conducted another pass, further weakened the freighter's shields.

To turn and engage the A-Wing, would invite destruction from the superior firepower of the frigate. The current course of evasion brought continued fire from the A-Wing, which would be sustained until the shields collapsed and the fighter disabled the Orress' thrusters. Mandalorians, however, play by their own rules.

"Ready the forward turbolasers," Adenn shouted to the tactical station. "You're getting one shot at this!"

In the distance, the A-Wing finished up its wide turn and readied another run. Adenn opened the auxiliary fuel injectors to feed more power to the thrusters, effectively pushed them beyond their safety limits to gain acceleration. The Orress charged ahead, the interior rattled violently from the overworked reactor, as warning lights and tones from nearly every system blared.

The distance between the fighter and the freighter grew. The A-Wing fired its afterburners once again to match the speed. Adenn knew he could not outrun the A-Wing, the fighter could overtake them, despite the added speed boost from red-lining the thruster. But Adenn did not intend to run.

The A-Wing approached quickly for another attack. The pilot lined up the freighter in their targeting sights and held their finger just above the flight stick's trigger. Only a few thousand meters remained to close. The expected turret fire from the freighter sent the pilot into their evasion roll, yet they remained focused and on target. Adenn too monitored the rapidly shrinking separation. He waited patiently, one hand on the flight stick and the other on the throttle. At that moment, the indicator flashed to signal the hyperspace calculations were complete and the jump could be executed. Adenn thought for a moment, decided to go through with the maneuver.

Quickly, Adenn reduced the throttle and then switched off the transfer lines between the reactor and the thrusters, ended the acceleration and now only propelled by the current momentum. The A-Wing accelerated, and the pilot realized the fighter overshot the Mandalorians. The Orress was now behind its pursuer and had the enemy craft sighted by the main turbolasers.

The starboard and port forward hull of the Orress each mounted a turbolaser cannon. The turbolasers, more ideally suited for engaging larger ships and ground targets, were rarely used against starfighters, but Adenn would make an exception. Not a word needed to be spoken to Tyl, for the moment the A-Wing shot past the freighter, it was locked.

One bolt fired from the port cannon. The A-Wing disintegrated, its shields no match for a direct hit from a turbolaser, and the pilot unable to evade. As the fighter blasted into oblivion, Adenn engaged the hyperdrive and the cockpit saw the starlines envelop their view. The freighter was in hyperspace and lightyears beyond the Nebulon-B in only a matter of seconds.

All aboard the Orress, save the cargo, could breathe a sigh of relief. They made their escape into hyperspace and were back on course to the rendezvous. Adenn felt his heart race from the adrenaline, the excitement of ship-to-ship combat. A hand grasped him by the bandolier that ran diagonally from his left shoulder to right hip across the chest. Haurn reached over and pulled him towards her. Though masked by her helmet, it was evident just how furious Haurn was at the reckless stunt.

"You risked our lives unnecessarily," she hissed. "The hyperdrive was ready, yet you delayed our jump to down one ship!"

"I had it under control," Adenn countered, throwing Haurn back with a shove. "We're still here, aren't we? Ship's still in one piece!"

"You're missing the point."

"We would be better served if you both ceased your incessant banter," said Tyl, out of annoyance.

Adenn humored a smile, as he slouched in his seat. For nearly a standard week, Adenn found sleep evasive. It was a result of the constant work the ship and her crew had to undertake. Events in the Galaxy moved quickly, seemed to drastically shift with each passing rotation. Realizing there were a few hours until the next hyperspace jump calculation, Adenn climbed out of the pilot's chair.

"I'm going to get some sleep," Adenn spoke. "You two have the conn?"

Haurn raised a dismissive hand, as her acknowledgement. Tyl gave a nod and went back to work running diagnostics of the ship's weapon systems and shield power levels. There was still the unanswered question as to how an A-Wing could deal such a significant blow.

The heavy boots reverberated on the durasteel floor. Adenn exited the cockpit and stepped passed the ladder that accessed the cargo ramp below. Immediately behind the cockpit was a simple compartment for the crew. It contained two circular tables at the center each with four chairs. Against the forward bulkhead, where one entered, was a simple food synthesizer.

Four sleeping berths sat against the bulkheads on either side, stacked two bunks high. Though the crew of the Orress only numbered six on this assignment. It was a simple arrangement, not designed for comfort. That suited the Mandalorians fine, more focused on utility. There were no independent quarters, even for Adenn, who technically owned the freighter. All shared this crew compartment.

Adenn made his way to his chosen bunk, the top bunk closest to the hatchway on the starboard side. There was a rack where his jetpack hung, ready for when the situation called. He used a foot to brace on the railing then hoisted himself onto the mattress. A privacy shade was drawn to conceal the one in the bunk and allowed for uninterrupted sleep.

On the weapons rack to his left were arrayed his personal blasters, all WESTAR-35 pistols and carbines, as well as vibro-blades, and a long-barreled disruptor rifle. Highly illegal throughout the enforceable Galaxy, the disruptor rifle proved useful when Adenn had to confront a few of the more obstinate foes. Pulling the blaster from the holster on his hip, Adenn placed it in the one empty holder. Detached from the rest of the crew in his near sanctuary aboard the ship, Adenn removed his helmet and placed it on a purpose-built shelf. He was not a staunch extremist when it came to the helmet removal rule. That would be Haurn. Adenn wore it when the situation required and removed the helmet at leisure.

His faded red, perfectly groomed hair hung over a thin, radiant face of the tall Mando'ade. Round blue eyes, set appealingly within their sockets, strained from hours spent staring at the readings from the navicomputer and sensor suites. Twin scars line the left cheek, mementos left by a bestial combat from years prior, though he is only twenty-five standard years old. Trusting the ship is in capable hands, Adenn releases his mind and falls asleep.

000

Adenn found himself in a memory. Concordia burned all around them. Bolts of green flashes crashed from the sky, blasted apart buildings, ships, crowds of people. The air choked with flames and the stench of death. Panicked crowds pushed through the barriers and tried to climb aboard the various transports, shuttles, and freighters, as their crews struggled to takeoff.

Squadrons of Imperial TIE Fighters howled from above, commenced their strafing runs. The twin ion engines rivaling the noise of the screams and the blasts from the orbital bombardment. TIE Bombers flew in low, directly targeted the administrative buildings of Concordia's capital. A few of the planetary anti-craft lasers attempted to return fire. The gunners downed a few Imperial craft, but it was a futile effort. The orbital bombardments were redirected and made short work of the Mandalorian defenses.

The Black Sun frigate sat in an isolated hangar at the far side of the spaceport. The hangar was obscure enough that it had not yet invited the destructive attention of the Imperials. The engines powered up, as the pilots hastily sped through the preflight checklist. Adenn managed to get his wife and their infant son to the spaceport, just as the bombardment commenced. It was a private hangar, off-limits to the public. The hangar, along with the frigate, were controlled by the Black Sun Syndicate, leased under an agreement with the Mandalorian Government. It was part of the Syndicate's presence on the moon, their hub for operations within Mandalorian space.

The cordon of armed Black Sun enforcers held back a desperate crowd trying to push their way onboard the craft. The crowd were not Mandalorians, but the laborers imported from off world and lower-level associates of the Black Sun Syndicate. Those proud Mandalorians donned their armor and resigned to fight to the death.

Recognizing Adenn and his family, the chief enforcer ordered they be passed through the line and toward the frigate. Jeers from the less fortunate and, in this situation, the less connected, were hurled at the family. The extensive work performed by Adenn Astronautics on behalf of the Black Sun earned the young Adenn's family a spot on the frigate's manifest.

Droids worked feverishly to place cargo pods of contraband and other valuables of the Syndicate onto the freight loaders. Groups of Falleen paraded up the gangways, priority boarding due to their status. The rest queued and waited for a spot they were guaranteed aboard.

The queue was a mixture of Mandalorian families along with other aliens affiliated in some manner with the Black Sun. Concordia served as a convenient transaction point between Mandalorians and those Syndicates with business on the Mandalorian homeworld. Their operations and dealings conducted on the Moon, rather than the surface of Mandalore itself. A contingency plan to evacuate was always in place, those who worked closely with the Syndicates prearrange passage from the Moon if ever the need arose. The orbital bombardment would qualify as just such a situation.

The attack on Mandalore and its moon, Concordia, came without warning. A fleet of Star Destroyers dropped out of hyperspace and began Base Delta Zero operations on all the major cities and population centers. All craft attempting to flee the destruction were shot down. This was more than punishment for Mandalorian insubordination, the refusal to submit to Imperial authority and their overthrow of the Imperial puppet governor.

The Star Destroyers laid waste to the home of the Mandalorians. The Imperials offered no ultimatum, no terms, and no quarter. The fate of the Mandalorian people was already decided by the Empire, the fleet was here to carry out orders. Adenn did not know where his father was, presumably dead when news of Sundari's destruction reached him less than an hour ago.

Black Sun had an agreement that guaranteed safe passage for any of their vessels from a besieged world. Rather, the Empire preferred to avoid the diplomatic repercussions from unjustly shooting down one of the Syndicate's frigates. In retaliation, the Black Sun might disrupt commodities trade on the Galactic Stock Market, incite a labor dispute on a key manufacturing world, or simply let a slew of blackmail files on influential Imperial officials slip into general circulation. The prominently displayed emblems on the vessel and the unique identification beacon were enough to ward off Imperial attention, despite the extermination orders.

The hangar structure started to violently shake, a nearby proton bomb impact was the cause. One of the crewmen was on the ramp, with an outstretched arm, hurriedly motioned the family aboard. Adenn's memory flashed again. His wife was at the top of the ramp of the frigate, the crewman desperately trying to control her, get her out of the way, as the last of the Black Sun enforcers and selected individuals darted aboard while the gangway closed. She screamed, pleaded, cursed at her husband, the baby clenched tightly in her arms.

Adenn was not with them, for he stood at the foot of the ramp. He watched the hatch close, remembered the sight of his distraught wife, their child crying. It made him feel sick, but it was necessary to get them off Concordia. There was still an important errand Adenn had to somehow accomplish, for the preservation of his people in the coming days would depend on it.

And so, Adenn stood by, as the repulsor lifts engaged and the frigate rose several meters from the ground. It turned to starboard and faced in the direction of the open bay doors. The main thrusters propelled the vessel forward and straight to break orbit where it would jump to hyperspace once free of Concordia's gravity shadow. The desperate crowd, no longer contained by the Black Sun enforcers, surged forward in a futile attempt to storm aboard the frigate. They screamed insults and threw objects at the vessel in disgust.

000

The low hum of the notification paired with a flashing yellow light roused Adenn from his sleep. Still exhausted, but the rest was enough to keep him going a little while longer. The joints throughout his body were stiff, the muscle worn, every slight movement was painful to manage. He took the helmet from the shelf and placed it over his head.

He entered the cockpit to find Haurn sprawled out in the copilot's chair, both feet crossed and elevated on the dashboard. Adenn thought about waking her by some manner of a juvenile prank, manually tripping the decompression alarm or opening a steam discharge valve in the cockpit. Before reaching a decision, the hyperspace tunnel drastically shrank, as starlines compressed into individual points.

Then the proximity alarm blared. Adenn leapt into the pilot seat, while a dazed Haurn was jolted into consciousness.

"What's going on?" Haurn spoke. "Have we arrived? Are we under attack!?"

"Good morning to you too, Duchess," Adenn joked.

Haurn threw a hard jab into Adenn's shoulder for that remark, almost breaking her hand on the beskar pauldron concealed beneath his cloak. They were coming into orbit of Nar Shaddaa, the Smuggler's Moon. The bright glow of the ecumenopolis visible. The sensor sweeps of the surrounding space returned significant obstacles, as in debris and derelict ships that posed navigational hazards if precautions were not taken.

The return readings from the scans displayed on the cockpit screens. The vessels were of Hutt origin, Black Sun, others popular with pirates, armed merchant vessels, and a few reequipped Separatists ships. The shattered hulks showed the evidence of combat, the distinctive marks from turbolaser fire. A few of the ships glowed, lights flickered, indication their reactors still generated power. The battle had not been concluded for long.

"Hutt Space is tearing itself apart," Adenn spoke. "With Jabba Desilijic out of the picture, seems everyone wants a piece…"

"Don't really care who gets it," said Haurn. "As long as we get paid."

The Orress approached Nar Shaddaa, carefully worked its way through the debris field. Soon, they were in the atmosphere and descended on the vast city. Trails of smoke in all directions snaked their way upwards. Explosions flashed on the distant horizon where the sun already set. The downed wreck of a large capital ship burned on what had been a city block. Airspeeders dashed through the sky with anxious expedience. Off the freighter's port bow, the Mandalorians watched a pirate fighter pursue an equally nimble ship, firing its cannons at the prey. Unseen on the streets below were the pockets of resistance, exchanges of small-arms blaster fire among factions, private security forces locked in combat with gangs of thugs. Nar Shaddaa descended into chaos.

Two Huttese fighters, ironically of Mandalorian construction, took up escort positions on either side of the Orress. Haurn flipped the comms relay and transmitted the identification code on the prearranged frequency. A moment later an electronic handshake returned acknowledgement with landing clearance. The fighters remained in their escort formation, as they guided the freighter.

This was one section of the city devoid of fires burning uncontrollably. It stretched for several grid kilometers. The perimeter ringed by heavy turbolaser emplacements, anti-craft turrets, and point defense platforms. The airspace was heavily patrolled by more of the Mandalorian built fighters in the service of the Hutts. The sector was one still firmly under Hutt control. Adenn wondered how long it would last.

The freighter was directed to a large landing pad adjacent to a structure, its ornate, almost gaudy architecture clearly of Hutt commission. Engaging the landing sequence and extending the struts, Adenn throttled down the main engines and relied on the repulsors for lift. A ground crewman waved bright illuminator batons to assist the pilot in the final descent. The noticeable thud jarred through the ship's hull and let those aboard know they were on the ground.

A heavy rain, the toxic, polluted rain common to the ecumenopolis fell in torrents on the landing pad. The deafening sound of water striking the viewports of the cockpit drowned out the noise made by systems shutting down and sensor reports generating. The Mandalorian overseeing the cargo provided an update on the status of the Twi'leks, none were dead. Barely visible was the sluggish mass that slithered its way toward the ship. It was Cibdord Bweujud Mabdos, Cibdord the Hutt. Servants bordered the Hutt at all four sides, each with a pole in their hand to support a corner of a shaded cover to keep the rain off, with six Gamorean Guards lumbering behind. Haurn scoffed at the repulsive sight of the foul crime boss.

Traveling down the ladder and then onto the lowering ramp, Adenn made his way to the encounter. Haurn led the rest of the Mandalorians on board to arm themselves and prepare the Twi'leks for unload. The Twi'lek cargo became agitated, chanting in their native tongue, some on their knees with arms outstretched through the bars pleading. Screams erupted from the Twi'leks, as panic gripped their numbers. They climbed the bars of the large cage they were crammed inside, bashed in vain at the lock. Some removed their shoes, the only articles left them of any weight, and hurled them at the Mandalorians gathered outside the hold. One Mandalorian stepped forward and jabbed their shockstick through the bars, stunned a riotous Twi'lek into a brief state of unconsciousness.

Cibdord the Hutt bellowed something in a deep Huttese voice, the words unfamiliar to Adenn. Unconcerned with the rain, Adenn stood several meters from the ship as he came face to face with the Hutt. The servants were courteous enough to extend the shaded covering over the Mandalorian. Not far behind, the Hutt's protocol droid shuffled over to serve as translator.

"His noble excellency, Cibdord Bweujud Mabdos. Cibdord the Magnificent," the droid began. "Bids you welco…"

"I'm sure Cibdord has enough problems," Adenn abruptly interrupted the droid. "Judging by the shape of this place. The Twi'leks are healthy and arrived in one piece. When do we get paid?"

In response, Cibdord engaged in a tirade in the Huttese language. Adenn stared back at the Hutt, motionless, unperturbed by the outburst he triggered. He knew the Hutts were having problems. Jabba was dead with a leadership vacuum left in his place, the crippled Empire, the New Republic soon to be the dominant power in the Galaxy. Problems beset the Cartel on all sides and the enterprising, or truly insane, sought to challenge them for the share of the spoils. Insurrection gripped nearly every corner of Hutt Space, as the Hutts struggled to cling to their dwindling influence.

"We're here to do a deal," Adenn spoke before the droid could translate. "Does Cibdord want the Twi'leks or not!?"

In what appeared to be insolence in the face of a business transaction, was a well calculated tactic on Adenn's part. He had many dealings with Cibdord and the Bweujud Hutts. In some bizarre way, they responded positively to abrasive and curt behavior, as opposed to someone trying to smooth talk their way through a transaction. Adenn speculated it was a perception of time wasted. Someone forcing the conversation to the main point and avoiding lofty dialogue demonstrated seriousness, which the Bweujud Hutts respected.

Cibdord barked a deep bout of laughter and waved a pudgy arm to motion. A labor droid approached, a camtono held securely in its grasp. The droid drew up alongside their master, stopped before Adenn and Cibdord. The gaze of the Mandalorian locked on the Hutt, as the droid opened the camtono. He looked at the contents, reached a hand inside and grasped an ingot.

Adenn held the rectangular slab of beskar in his hand. His gloved fingers caressed the sacred metal of the Mandalorian people, as he stared into the dark grey coloration. An Imperial cog stamped in the lower right corner caught his attention.

"Imperial foundry?" Adenn questioned.

"We came into possession through a source," the droid translated from a still speaking Cibdord. "Imperial convoys are not as well escorted these days."

"Imagine having to buy what was originally yours."

Cibdord was amused by the remark. Adenn slipped the ingot back into the camtono then nodded at the Hutt. It was a gesture observed by Haurn, who relayed it to the rest of the Mandalorian crew. Two lines of armored Hutt soldiers, forty in total, comprised of a mixed assortment of Klatooinians, Zabrak, and Devaronians, proceeded from the darkened interior of a nearby structure. The soldiers moved past the Hutt and flanked either side of the freighter's cargo ramp. A separate squadron of heavily armored Hutt soldiers, draped in riot gear with stun-batons, made their way up the ramp and into the hold.

A few more moments transpired before the Twi'leks emerged from the interior of the ship and marched down the main ramp. They shared an equal expression of defeat, their heads held low and direct eye contact was avoided. Cibdord howled in excitement, delighted at the credits the new acquisitions would soon generate for his operation. For their part, the Twi'leks despaired at their fate, knowing what was to come. Rumors made their way back to Ryloth of their people owned by the Hutts. A small number of the stubborn Twi'leks tried to resist being taken from the ship. A few quick blows from the Hutt riot soldiers and their electro-batons soon ended the opposition.

Adenn stood with his arms crossed and observed the paraded cargo, as they were forced into a darkened tunnel. A few shrieks from the direction of that tunnel put those outside on edge. Their anxiety was quickly alleviated by baton strikes and fierce shoves to continue moving. Under the driving, polluted rain, the Twi'leks shivered from the inundation.

He did not feel remorse about what transpired, the nature of the business, or the fate of the Twi'leks. Adenn believed the weak were in service of the strong, it is how he was raised. The Twi'leks were here on their own accord. If they offered a proper resistance, they would still be on Ryloth. The thought manifested a sense of disgust in Adenn. The Mandalorian Purge, the reason he was separated from his family, the beskar stolen, and his people forced from their ancestral home, it was all weakness.

Satisfied, Cibdord ordered the labor droid to carry the camtono of beskar aboard the freighter. The droid returned a mechanical beep and began its mechanized trudge. Adenn started to turn in the direction of the Orress when Cibdord began to speak. The protocol droid conversed with its master, then faced Adenn. In its hand, the protocol droid held a data card outstretched to the Mandalorian.

"My master, Cibdord the Magnificent," the protocol droid said. "Wishes to bestow on his Mandalorian friends this gift."

Adenn accepted the data card, though with significant apprehension. The Hutts never gave gifts, nothing was ever free when dealing with the Cartel. There was always a condition, a requirement to fulfil. The fact Cibdord referred to the Mandalorians as "friends" was troubling. The Mandalorians did not have friends and his people were not interesting in making any.

"What is this?" Adenn grunted the question.

"The data card contains a star chart and grid coordinates," the protocol droid responded.

"What am I going to find at those coordinates?"

"My masters says, the Thorn."

Cibdord let out a sinister laugh, the one you did not need fluency in Huttese to understand. Adenn felt a mixture of confusion and trepidation. Could this data card hold the actual location of the Thorn? What did Cibdord have to gain by giving it over to the Mandalorians? And what did the Hutt expect in return?

"How do I know this is legitimate?" Adenn sternly asked, doubt overtly in his tone.

The protocol droid made an apprehensive turn to its master, calculating the wrath the question might have evoked. Cibdord leveled an accusatory finger at the Mandalorian and ignited a drawn-out tirade entirely in the Hutt language. Adenn could assume the charge upset the Hutt.

"My master offers this to the Mandalorian people," the protocol droid translated. "It is a gift for the Mandalorians, but it is a gift that must be claimed."

Adenn rested his hands on the buckle of his holster belt and leaned a shoulder back.

"So that's the catch," Adenn sneered, bringing on another rebuke from Cibdord.

"My master will disregard your insolence," said the protocol droid. "The Hutts have no need for that ship, especially since no one can activate it. The point my master wishes to make is your people are welcome to the ship, but you must secure it. The Thorn is docked at a fortified spaceport held by a pirate gang of dissident Klatooinians."

"b'Ge'hutuun gotal'an aaray?" Adenn quipped in Mando'a.

It was for the best the protocol droid did not make an exact translation. Carefully refining the words for Cibdord, the protocol droid delivered the response.

"The Klatooinians have forgotten their place," exclaimed the protocol droid. "Their activities are disrupting Hutt shipping traffic. Kill them all so they no longer serve as an annoyance. Your people get the ship and Cibdord can consolidate his forces to more important tasks."

A repulsive grimace exuded from the Hutt. Adenn glanced briefly at the data card before he slipped it into a pouch on his belt. He nodded at the Hutt, as a sign of deference and the transaction with the Twi'leks was satisfactory concluded. Abruptly turning, Adenn approached the Orress, boots stepping through the puddles gathered from the falling rain. Cibdord gave an order to his servants, and they escorted the Hutt back to the palace with the covered awning held above.

Adenn was soaked by rain, but his mind focused elsewhere. Seated in the pilot's chair, he held the data card in one hand while he keyed the flight startup with the other. Haurn joined him in the cockpit, as the Orress spun around then lifted its bow spaceward. The thrusters fired and propelled the freighter to an escape velocity, the artificial gravity generators counteracting the tremendous forces associated with the launch.

In only a few more moments, Adenn had the destination entered in the navicomputer and the hyperspace jump calculated. Engaging the drive, the Orress slipped from real space and accelerated.

"What is that?" Haurn asked, indicating the data card.

"Cibdord claims it's the location of the Thorn," replied Adenn, inserting the data card into the charting computer.

"The Thorn, as in that actually exists!?" Haurn inquired with skepticism.

"Of course it exists! My father built it," countered Adenn, with a sense of pride in the words he spoke.

A hologram projected a map of the charted Galaxy. Automatically, it began to magnify and enhance a section of Wild Space, in proximity of Kessel. It was a poorly charted system on a spur lane from the Triellus Trade Route. Several low resolution holo-images looped on a slideshow, taken hastily by a probe before it was destroyed. Carved out of an asteroid was a spacedock that held the hulk of a Mandalorian built Keldabe-class battleship.

The Thorn was more than another ship of the Keldabe-class, intending to serve as the flagship of the Mandalorian Defense Fleet and spearhead the reassertion of Mandalorian sovereignty. The concept was to retrofit a ship of the already formidable Keldabe-class with an experimental weapons system. To mask the extent of the project, MandalMotors and Mandal Hypernautics, subcontracted portions of the work through a series of shell corporations and holdings to Adenn Astronautics.

The Concordia based Adenn Astronautics Corporation, at first glance, produced customized shuttles, spacecraft, and freighters for companies and individuals. Their hidden specialization was in the development of weapons platforms for starships. Through secretive contacts, Adenn Astronautics combed the Galaxy for weapons technologies to reverse engineer and devise new destructive munitions. Their latest work on the Thorn concerned the use of synthetic kyber crystals. Based on designs stolen from the Empire's Project Star Dust, provided by a contact within the Rebellion, Adenn Astronautics developed a high intensity beam energy weapon.

Though not nearly on the destructive scale as the superlaser of the Death Star, the Thorn's energy beam focused through a synthetically manufactured kyber crystal. The beam had the capability to puncture the shields of any ship and destroy the enemy with a single shot delivered kill, at least in theory. The Thorn project was prepared for space trials and weapons testing when the Empire launched their Purge of Mandalore.

"That ship was my father's obsession," Adenn spoke. "He spent every waking hour perfecting the weapons system. Every spare moment he had he devoted to pressuring me into studies to one day continue his work."

"Doesn't seem like the lifestyle of a Mando'ade," Haurn retorted. "So, what happened to the ship?"

"It disappeared during the Great Purge. There were several engineers aboard that day when the Empire arrived. My father was at MandalMotors headquarters to supervise a scheduled test of its weapon. When the Imps started blasting, the engineers jumped the Thorn into hyperspace to keep it out of the Empire's hands."

"They chose to run than go down fighting?"

"She wasn't completely finished and there were only enough engineers aboard for minimal functions related to the test. She'd be useless against a Star Destroyer, let alone the fleet that attacked Mandalorian Space. This was all planned in the event the project was threatened and the ship had to be quickly concealed. They jumped to a preselected destination, powered down, and commenced the system wipe. There, she'd be left adrift until recovered by the project team."

"Then what?" Haurn asked.

Adenn paused for a moment, as his mind returned to that night on Concordia. The night of the Great Purge.

"The ship vanished," Adenn responded, though distant. "I went to the rendezvous coordinates but found no trace of the Thorn."

"Well, we see it is still in one piece," Haurn posed. "If pirates got their hands on it, and it is as powerful as some claim, why haven't we seen it rampaging across the Galaxy? The Rebels would've certainly sought it out."

"When the engineers put her into shut down, they effectively killed the ship. Part of the design to keep her out of the hands of aruetiise. She had a failsafe that wiped the operating system from the ship's computers. Without the boot data to reinstall the operating system, there is no possibility of bringing the Thorn into service."

"That's the encrypted data on the holo-emitter with your family?"

Haurn gestured to the chain barely visible on the back of Adenn's neck, which held the holo-emitter. The main device was tucked between his cuirass and his chest. At the surprise of Haurn correctly guessing the device's true purpose, he placed a hand to secure the emitter.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Haurn mused. "You're too paranoid, I'm not going to tell anyone. Devoted husband as you, doubtful that is the only holo you would have of your family. Which means there isn't room for more holo-images since most of the data memory is taken up by something significant. Initiation sequence for a Keldabe-class battleship?"

"That's right," Adenn responded, placing the holo-emitter on the console.

He activated the holo-emitter and the familiar image of the husband, wife, and child flickered into the illuminated projection. Taking a moment to observe them, reminiscing, Adenn twisted a dial on the emitter. The hologram disappeared, replaced by a red projected keyboard with its characters entirely in Mando'a. Keying in a password by interacting with the hologram, the board flashed to green in acceptance. The display changed to a projection outlining a Keldabe-class battleship, with technical readouts generating in light projected tabs.

"These five years nobody has been able to recommission that ship," Adenn began. "Any attempt to power it up or reverse engineer its systems would require too many bulkheads to be dismantled, too many critical systems rerouted. Impossible to accomplish without Mandalorian shipwrights, who are all dead. You'd be better off building your own. She is too valuable to dismantle, pirates know that. I suspected the Hutts had her. That's why we played along, hoping they'd get frustrated failing to start her up and turning her over to us. Guess Cibdord lost her and that asteroid port when those Klatooinians rose up."

"We now have a way to obtain a capital ship…" Haurn said, with a slight injection of optimism in her tone. "Can you picture the vengeance we can bring upon our enemies with that ship in the hands of Mandalorians?"

"Retake Mandalore…or what's left of it."

Haurn hung her head low, as she was reminded of all she lost because of the Empire. Her suffering went back ten years before the Great Purge, when the Imperial military drafted her into the Army with the other children of dissident Concordians. Now there was a way to fight back, there was hope for something better. The Empire was broken at Endor, their Emperor dead, and the New Republic quickly mopped up what remained. Taking advantage of the unrest, striking hard and fast, there might just be a way to reclaim Mandalore and settle the old accounts with those who wronged the Mando'ade. A fully operational and powered Thorn could fend off a small armada until the Mandalorians could consolidate their scattered tribes and clans. Giving it some more thought, Haurn growled at the next action.

"Do we have to tell him?" Haurn snorted, venom in her words.

"He is Mand'alor," Adenn responded. "We pledged our loyalty to his House and were duly adopted in. Regardless, we'll need an army to take that station and a crew for a ship of that size. He has the capability to furnish both."

"I don't like it," Haurn folded her arms.

"He has the largest consolidation of our people left. If we want a future for the Mando'ade, we will need to follow him, he is Mandalore."

When Adenn finished his words Haurn went silent. She did not like what was proposed, but she weighed the options and there were no alternatives. The Orress continued through hyperspace. Adenn switched off the holo-emitter and stored it back on his person for safekeeping. They were only a few hours from the destination, to deliver news that could drastically change their fortunes. News unable to send through traditional communication systems.

Tyl stepped into the cockpit, made his entry pronounced.

"We have a problem," Tyl said, his voice rasping.

"What kind of a problem?" Adenn turned his seat to inquire.

"Songh was down by the drive when I ran into her. She found a fault in the main transfer coupling."

"So, shunt through the auxiliaries. She's an engineer, she should know that."

"Well, that's why I said 'problem'."

The Orress lurched violently, Tyl crashed to the deck and Adenn was nearly ejected from his chair. Haurn was thrown forward and bashed her helmet into the control console. The boards displayed emergency warnings, alarms shrieked their deafening roars, lights flashed in response. The hyperdrive tunnel collapsed, as the freighter violently hurled into realspace. Adenn fought the flight stick to orient the ship and fired the stabilizing thrusters. It took several moments of pulling with his might to finally bring the Orress under controlled flight. The thrusters were overheating dangerously, so Adenn leaned over the engine panels to power them down, letting the ship drift under inertia.

"What the Hell is going on down there!?" Adenn shouted to the cockpit before flipping the intercom on to address the same thing to Songh.

"It's the di'kutla couplings you keep buying!" Songh replied over the comm. "The primary and auxiliary lines are down. I can't give you lightspeed. A reboot should get the main engines working for impulse."

"Just get the thrusters back up. That ought to get us to a port or settlement where we can acquire a replacement."

"Cheap Correllian parts are not interchangeable on Mandal ships."

"If you haven't noticed, the Empire kinda put a stop to production at MandalMotors."

"Listen here you shabui…"

Adenn switched off the intercom before Songh could finish. It was a comment in poor taste on Adenn's part given the fact MandalMotors, along with all the Mandalorian shipyards and industry were either destroyed by the Empire or picked apart to supplement the Imperial war machine.

The power throughout the Orress cycled, going completely dark for a second before powering back on. It was a system reset performed by Songh from the engine compartment. The main transfer coupling enabled the reactor to feed power to the hyperdrive for hyperspace travel. Since the component burned out, the hyperdrive could not function and the ship was only able to travel at sublight speeds.

Control returned to the flight stick, as Adenn adjusted the freighter for a course heading. They were in the vicinity of a bright sun, the orange hue of the star filling the viewports with a colored glow. It was the mass shadow of this sun that pulled the Orress from hyperspace. With the hyperdrive failure, there were no means to maintain a stable lightspeed course. The sun's mass disrupted the freighter's navigation and forced it into realspace.

Tyl sat down at the tactical station in the cockpit to identify habitable worlds within the system. The tactical station was able to integrate the comm/scan equipment onboard for enhanced sensor sweeps and corollate the results against data entries. The first point of business was to calculate their location.

"We're in the Scaisum Sector," announced Tyl while checking the display. "Looks like there's a moderately developed settlement on Scaisum IV."

"We've crossed into the Mid Rim," Haurn muttered.

"Ghax, scan for IFF beacons, Imperial, Alliance, or other," Adenn said, turning to Tyl. "See what kind of welcome we can expect."

"Scope's clear," Tyl responded after a few moments.

Adenn and Tyl traversed the hatchways and catwalks to arrive in the ship's engine compartment. There, an irate Myra Songh waited impatiently with a section of the burned-out coupler in her hand, as Adenn descended the ladder. She possessed that engineer's quality of being in a perpetually foul mood. As a young recruit in Pre Vizsla's Death Watch, she saw her fair share of combat through the coup and subsequent violence when she did not back Maul's ascension. Her prowess around starship engines landed her an important role within Adenn Astronautics.

"Yeah, it's definitely fried," Adenn quipped, taking the coupling and making a cursory examination.

"It's these cheap CEC parts," Songh grunted, taking the part back. "They can't hold up to the amount of power we run through them."

"So, what are we on the lookout for?" Tyl interjected his question. Peering down from the hatchway, as the engine compartment's size could only accommodate two persons.

"Heavy duty hyperdrive transfer couplings," Songh replied to the query. "Compatible with Class 0.85 or lesser. And preferably a component made by either Kuat or SoroSuub. Incom is fine if that's all they have. Nothing Corellian, I've had enough of their shit failing on us!"

Adenn let out a laugh and placed a jovial hand on Songh's shoulder, which she quickly batted away in annoyance. It was not the intention of Adenn to go out of his way to stock parts made by the Corellian Engineering Corporation. MandalMotors was no longer in operation. CEC happened to produce components that were compatible, if for the short term, and were abundant. The availability was the key factor, given the Mandalorians had to do most of their buying on backwater worlds and from wandering salvage ships because of the necessity to remain withdrawn from the greater Galaxy.

"It's an old mining world, we might get lucky," Adenn humored.

Songh grunted and dismissed Adenn, the one she often found irritating to no end. Adenn made his way up the access ladder to return to the bridge, as Songh set about her work. There was much she had to do to fully replace a hyperdrive power coupling. The faulty part would need to be fully removed from its many mountings and critical systems would need to either be rerouted or shut down entirely.

It took several hours to travel the distance from Scaisum to the planet, Scaisum IV. Adenn piloted the ship on an entry vector to avoid the settlement and sought a landing zone several kilometers away. The electronic warfare suite aboard the Orress could effectively jam the tracking sensors of the traffic control to make the freighter appear invisible to scans. It was a feature that proved useful when situations required anonymity, though more sophisticated comm/scan systems aboard Imperial and Rebel Alliance ships could negate the jamming effects.

000