Din spent most of the morning working with Denesha as she made her rounds to secure the palace while the household staff prepped for both Garrick's return and Kaltho's visit. The estate was a flurry of activity as every room was cleaned, inspected, and prepared for both of the day's arrivals. Most of the staff ignored Denesha, but Din got the occasional odd look or gossipy whisper. They knew why he was there - that he was the Mistress' new bodyguard, but they reacted the way so many civilians did when the mythological Mandalorian showed up; a thing to be feared and ogled. He was used to it, but when the stares and whispers turned to the green toddler floating in a bassinet behind him, Din couldn't help but feel put on edge. He didn't know these people, didn't trust these people. And while part of him knew most of the staff were slaves and barely left the estate, gossip getting out about the kid spooked Din. Especially knowing there was a guild presence somewhere in the metropolis beyond the estate's walls. He didn't want to force the kid to spend all of his time here cooped up and cloistered in the pod, but that small twinge that raised his hackles told him he might just have to do that if the staff wouldn't leave the child alone.

"Kaltho is expected to stay for 3 days at the very least." Denesha stated as they turned a corner into the hall that connected the dining room to the main throne room. While she was an amiable and talkative woman, she took her job seriously and would not allow any hitch in the evening's events. Like Din had originally expected, this area of the palace was decorated like a poor man trying to prove himself. Wealth spent for wealth's sake. "Kaltho and his retinue will be staying on D level," Denesha continued to brief Din. "They will have access to that level and all common areas on this level. All doors to staff or family areas will be locked with a rotating keycode that will change once an hour. As well as the elevator – any level above D level will be locked with a second set of rotating codes. I'll get you access to the codes once I've finished my rounds."

Halfway down the hallway, Denesha stopped in front of one of the many art pieces that lined the walls. Pulling it from the wall revealed a small security hub with variety of access panels and ports snaking between live camera feeds of the entire floor. Denesha waved him over to inspect the hub.

"This connects directly to central security. It has access to each camera, every door, bio scanner, and weapon screen on this level. This is also the only exterior control to the panic room inside the throne room. If something does go wrong, its your only job to get the Mistress to that panic room. You can use this hub to reroute hostiles and clear a path directly to the panic room." Denesha pointed out which panels and buttons controlled what before replacing the art piece and resumed her inspection of the main floor. Once she was pleased, they moved outside to secure the perimeter.

"Did Jeca give you the schedule for tomorrow's events?" When Din shook his head no, Denesha sighed. "Slimy bastard. I'll make sure you get the schedule tonight before dinner. Most of what's going on won't concern the Mistress, but I know there's at least one thing Garrick expects her to be present for."

"What kind of 'events' are they?" Din asked as they circled the northern wall of the palace. Denesha ordered two of her guards to sweep the gardens as they passed the entrance.

"Garrick being Garrick. Trying to show off and wine and dine Kaltho. What the Mistress is expected to show up to is a fighting tournament of some kind. Garrick opened the matches up to anyone in the city who wants to participate. There's a pretty sizable cash prize, so we've got a lot of competitors. Hand-to-hand only, no weapons are allowed to come into the compound. People in the city are treating it like some kind of huge festival and we even sold tickets for them to come. They sold out in an hour. The event is going to take the whole day, but the Mistress will only be expected to show for the final rounds."

The thought that people from outside would be coming in set Din's hackles up again. Bounty hunters would definitely be in the midst of the combatants. And with the child being as valuable and high profile as Din knew him to be, trouble would find them quickly. Hells, he would be participating in this tournament if his situation was different and the money was good enough. The poor child was going to be stuck in that closed pod the whole time they were here at this rate.

"Why combat?" Din asked, grateful for his voice modulator to keep the tension out of his voice.

"Kaltho likes to gamble. The bigger the spectacle, the better."

"Captain." A voice came over Denesha's personal comm unit. "Starbird I is enroute. Five minutes to land."

"Copy that." Denesha replied. "Let's go greet the family."

By the time Din and Denesha made it to the landing pads, Garrick's yacht was just touching down. Jeca stood in the same spot he had been the day before when he greeted Din. Lowering his head in greeting to Denesha, Jeca kept a cold eye fixed on Din. He ignored the pointed glare, but the Twi'lek wasn't going to make his job easy if he didn't stop. Denesha and Jeca spoke quietly to one another, discussing the day's accelerated timeline now that Garrick was finally back. Din listened silently as they went over plans for the evening, but watched Garrick's dockworkers jump to action as soon as they yacht had landed and the engines powered down.

Even before the docking ramp was fully lowered, Garrick was descending it towards the three of them. Two security guards flanked closely behind their boss and were followed distantly by the circle of eight women. Hana was no longer in the front, center position. Instead a tall woman who towered over all the others held that spot. She was long and lanky, taller than even Paz and had a severe look to her face. Like the last time Din had seen them, the eight women wore the same simple clothes, but the woman in the front had the most embellishments sewn into her clothes and was even allowed to wear bangles and jewelry the others were not. This stern woman had to be Tabór. The Mistress' primary attendant, Din surmised. As soon as she saw him, Tabór whispered something behind her while her eyes locked on to Din. Tabór must have been a soldier of some kind before she found herself enslaved to Garrick. She had a stern, militaristic look in her eyes that could whip even the most unruly recruit into shape.

After a moment, and presumably receiving an answer from the Mistress, Tabór inclined her head toward Din and beckoned for him to join the women's ranks. He met them halfway up the ramp, where Tabór stepped to the left, revealing the Mistress. She was a fairly tall woman now that Din saw her standing. Nowhere near as tall as Tabór and still shorter than him but only by a couple of centimeters.

She was dressed much simpler than the last time he had met her. Instead of expensive silks and massive crowns, she was a shift of cotton dyed to a golden honey with a matching veil obscuring her face. Around her forehead, the veil was embroidered with a delicate lace-like pattern that flowed gently down the veil to add another layer of obfuscation to her face. He could see the outline of jewelry along her neck beneath the veil, but they seemed to have the same simple-hewn appearance of her dress and veil.

Together, both Din and the Mistress bowed their heads in greeting. "Hello, Mandalorian." Her tone was even, diplomatic, much the same as it was the last time he had met her. This time, however, he could tell she was much more relaxed now that she was home.

"Call me Mando." Din stepped aside so Tabór could retake her place and the entourage began to move again. Despite what Din had considered a less than friendly first meeting, the Mistress seemed to accept his position at the rear of her attendants.

Garrick and Denesha had wandered off to discuss one preparation or another, leaving Jeca behind to greet the Mistress at the base of the ramp.

"Mistress." Jeca bent a knee as her circle of attendants approached. The snide, unwelcoming tome had completely disappeared from his voice. "I hope your travels have not been taxing."

"Refreshing. Even if the company couldn't be helped." Mistress answered, but Din finally caught an odd clip to her accent that he hadn't heard before on the ship. When they first met, she had a Core World accent, maybe Coruscanti. But now that she was home where she could let her guard down, the Core world accent slipped into her native accent. It was slightly familiar, wherever it was from, and definitely Outer Rim.

"Business dealings do leave much to be desired in the way of friendship." Jeca countered. His tone was light and cordial, but underneath was the sly note of a conversation meaning something much different. Conspiratorial, Din thought.

"We did bring home a new friend." Hana's voice quipped from in front of Din. She turned her head to him, smiling brightly.

"Hmm." Both Jeca and the Mistress sighed in unison. Accepting Din's presence was not the same as wanting him there. Din ignored it, he was used to people being wary of him. Hana didn't seem to notice their disapproval. Instead she waved quickly at Din and the child's closed pod.

"This is your itinerary for the evening." Jeca handed a datapad to Tabór. The tall woman scrolled through it, reading the day's timeline before passing it off to the attendant to her right. The datapad was passed through out the circle before Hana finally passed it back to Din. Most of what he read made little sense to him. But there was a timeline of the night's events that told him where he and the Mistress were expected to be and when. That was all he needed to know.

"There is not enough time." Tabór sighed as Din read through the datapad. Her voice was a deep alto, nearing baritone, and spoke slowly with a long drawl that made her sound as if she were chanting.

"For?" Jeca hissed, that unwelcoming tone instantly back.

"The wardrobe the Master has requested. The pleats alone take hours." One of the other attendants who's name Din didn't know spoke.

"Make it work. I doubt Kaltho will notice if a "pleat" is out of place."

"One wrong pleat can destroy an entire silhouette." A third attendant spoke up.

"Garrick demands perfection when his own foolishness has robbed us of time." The Mistress spoke.

"It's not the Master's fault that part needed to be replaced." Hana defended Garrick. The other attendants didn't physically react, but Din could feel them balk at Hana's defense of him giving Din the distinct impression that the attendant's may have been enslaved under Garrick, but it was the Mistress to whom they owed their loyalty.

Interesting. Were there other slaves who made their alliances so well known? It was clear that Denesha, Jeca, and the security force were obviously under Garrick's thumb. But those that weren't being paid? Perhaps they preferred the lady of the house.

"We will make due." The Mistress finally sighed. "But, tell Garrick that if it is not perfect, it is his own fault." Jeca bowed lightly before breaking off from the group and heading off toward security where Garrick presumably was with Denesha.

"Bootlicker." Tabór murmured just loud enough for everyone to hear. Din swore he heard a snicker from inside the circle. Silence reigned as the entourage made their way into the palace. Upon entering, Hana and 2 other attendants split off from the group. They passed by a number of household staff, each one busy with preparations for the evening. All of them stopped on the Mistress' approach to bow their head or bend a knee. Din certainly was not used to all of the positive attention, but the Mistress and the others seemed unfazed and even ignored the rest of the staff.

Tabór and the others continued on to the lift and up to the Mistress' chambers. Din was unsure if he would be allowed inside of her chambers, so Din stopped in the hall just outside the open blast door that lead to the Mistress' sitting room. All of the women stopped walking, turning their heads in unison towards Din. Watching all of the woman move as one was slightly unnerving.

"You may enter." The Mistress said, stepping out from her entourage and back towards Din's position. "You may consider this room – and only this room – as an extension of your own suite and may access it whenever you wish." She said cordially, nodding to Tabór before making her way deeper into her rooms. "Show him the hub." All of the attendants except Tabór followed the Mistress from the sitting room. Waving Din in, Tabór walked to the far side of the room. The inside of the Mistress' chambers were decorated in much the same way as Din's rooms – furniture and decór were sparse but obviously of excellent craftsmanship. Expensive because of their quality not just for showmanship.

"Has Denesha showed you the security hubs?" Tabór asked in her long drawl.

"A few." Din came into the room to join Tabór. The child's pod followed hummed closely behind him as it came to rest behind Tabór. Pulling the one piece of art from the wall, she revealed the hub to Din.

"It functions the same as the others in the palace. Most importantly, it locks the blast doors to the suite. But, if hostiles manage to get passed Denesha's forces and to this level, blast doors won't hold out for long."

"Is there a panic room on this floor?" Din sidled up next to Tabór to examine the hub. It was as she had said. Exactly the same as the one on the lower level.

"No. The only two in the palace are in the throne room and in the Master's quarters a few levels down."

"Garrick doesn't stay on this level?"

"He will from time to time. A night or two. Maybe a week. But he always returns to his quarters."

Part of him wanted to question it. If Garrick was the devoted, loving husband he presented himself as, why only spend a few random nights with the woman he was supposed to love? Why wouldn't he furnish her with her own panic room if he was so concerned about her security to hire him? It didn't make any sense to him. But he left it alone. It wasn't his business how other people conducted their marriage. As Tabór pointed out which parts of the security hub controlled what, Din relaxed enough to open the child's pod. The kid was sleeping soundly in a peaceful nap.

The small hiss of the pod opening startled Tabór, jolting to look behind her at the pod and sleeping child. She tried to hide her shock, but Din saw her eyes. They widened in a split-second of shock at seeing the child.

"Is everything alright?" Din skirting around the pod into Tabór's view.

"Hana mentioned you have a child. But not that he is an infant…" She trailed off, seemingly staring through him at the child. Din could see a vast amount of thoughts were churning just behind her eyes as she took in the fact that he had had an infant following him around in that pod all day. "The Mistress will want to know of this." Tabór tried to walk casually toward what Din assumed was the Mistress' bedroom or wardrobe. "Stay here. We will call for you momentarily."

Din stood exactly where Tabór left him, staring down at the sleeping child. She looked scared. Terrified of the child, like his existence here threatened some fragile boundary that Din was unaware of. Most people reacted to the child with a sense of awe, remarking how adorable the alien child was. He had become accustomed to that reaction, but to meet someone scared of the small thing was strange. Not knowing how the Mistress would react to an infant in her midst put him on edge. Maybe his fight or flight instincts had skyrocketed since taking on the responsibility of caring for the kid. Maybe he was overreacting, but he closed the pod again just in case.

After a few minutes, Din heard the lift doors open at the end of the hall. Peeking out the door, Din saw Hana and the two other attendants making their way up the hallway. Hana was carrying a large, white circular board of some kind that was about 2 square feet in diameter.

"I don't know how she can wear this thing for hours." Hana sighed as she readjusted her grip on the board.

"I hate this outfit. Even if we had the time to put it together perfectly, it looks so stupid." One of the other attendants held an overflowing pile of white fabric that she was barely managing to keep in her arms. The two other attendants at Hana's side were older than her, but only marginally so. He'd guess they were maybe 19 or 20 at most.

"I think it looks kind of interesting. No one else gets to wear these things." Hana replied.

"Because its inconvenient. The Master only picks these stupid clothes when he wants to show off and he makes it difficult for everyone else involved. The Mistress won't even be able to eat at the dinner. She's just going to have to sit there for six courses." The third attendant finally spoke up. She was carrying a decently sized, gilded box protectively against her chest.

"The Master set the itinerary and the Mistress' wardrobe weeks ago." Hana was on the defensive again. "It's not his fault we were delayed. Mando!" She squeaked in surprise to see Din standing just inside the door to the sitting room. All three of the attendants ducked their heads, ashamed of being overheard complaining about the impending dinner. They scuttled quickly passed Din and further into the rooms. The doors didn't closed behind them as they moved to the Mistress' dressing room where Din could hear muffled voices talk from somewhere deeper in. He waited for nearly thirty minutes before Tabór finally returned. She waved him to follow. Passing through the door lead Din to the Mistress' bedroom and beyond that the dressing room. The Mistress stood in the middle of the room, her back to Din.

Her attendants worked in a flurry of movement around her as they prepared for the evening. Hana stood at the Mistress' back, where she was attaching the large board to a harness sewn into her white bodice, creating the silhouette of a halo behind the Mistress. One attendant stood off to her side as she braided impossibly long, dark brown hair. Two attendants were on their knees at her sides carefully folding lengths on shear white fabric into thick pleats. Once one pleat was finished being folded, the attendant pinned it to the Mistress' bodice where yet another attended was literally sewing the skirts around the Mistress. Two more attendants held the Mistress' hands in theirs as the painted her hands and arms white with the paint from the gilded box he had seen earlier. Tabór walked passed Din and around the Mistress' front were she picked up an applicator and began painting the Mistress' unseen face white as well.

"So, you have a child?" The Mistress' tone was still even and diplomatic. Din was unable to pick up on what the Mistress' thoughts on the child was from her tone alone and her body language gave almost no information as she stood stiffly to ease the work of her handmaids.

"Will that be a problem?" Din asked, voice modulator keeping his tone as even as hers had been.

"No." The Mistress sighed. "However, Garrick will not allow an infant at the dinner tonight."

"Garrick doesn't know about the child. All he knows is I have a pod that follows me around."

"Oh?" The Mistress' voice fluctuated a little higher. She was definitely interested in why this child was a secret. "Even so, it would be best if the child was not present tonight. Garrick wants everything to go perfectly and an infant having to sit through a six course meal without being allowed to move from your position in the back of the room let alone eat-"

"I won't be leaving him behind." Din interrupted.

"Some of my attendants can manage to watch him for a few hours." The Mistress' voice went back to her controlled, diplomatic tone.

"No."

"You have a right to distrust Garrick. He very rarely tells the whole truth if it doesn't benefit him. But you have my word that you can trust me. I know a thing or two about your people. How protective of your children Mandalorians are. You have my word no harm will come to any child under my protection." All of the attendants stopped what they were doing to look at the Mistress's face then over to Din.

He realized in that moment how young all of them except Tabór were. Tabór appeared to be in her mid-thirties, but the others? Hana was obviously the youngest, but each of them were only a handful of years older than her. The oldest, the one braiding the Mistress' hair, was maybe 22 years old. She would have been 14 when Garrick liberated this compound and brought her into the Mistress' service. Hana would have been eight. She had each of their devotion because she protected these women; kept them safe from the more unsavory parts of being a young woman in the slave trade. But there was more to it from the way they looked at her with such love and admiration. They looked at her the way some of his tribe's own foundlings looked at their adoptive parents. She had not only protected them, but she had raised them – some from literal childhood.

The Mistress waited patiently for Din's answer as the women resumed their busy work. That sense he had of her being utterly foreign but so completely Mandalorian when he first met her overcame him again. It made him want to trust her, but he was still wary.

"You can trust us, Mando." The Mistress reiterated. Her voice softened from that diplomatic tone, to one that felt honest; her real voice. Hearing the real woman, not The Mistress, was calming. Maybe he wasn't necessarily wanted as her bodyguard, but letting him hear her real voice gave him a sense of acceptance. Her voice was slightly higher pitched than the alto timbre she took on when in the stand-offish diplomacy mode, and the Outer Rim accent became thicker as she completely abandoned that Coruscanti façade. "Your son will be safe here, I promise."

Din glanced to the child's closed pod before finally answering. "Fine." He sighed.

"Hana. You will be staying with the child tonight during dinner.."

"But… But you said I could stand left of Tabór tonight." Hana protested, stopping her work to skirt around to the Mistress' front.

"You will another time. For tonight, I need you up here." The Mistress spoke calmly, trying to appease a sad child. Din watched as disappointment settled in Hana's eyes. She hung her head in defeat, knowing no amount of protesting would change the Mistress' mind. The Mistress plucked her hand from one of the attendants that were painting her skin to lift Hana's chin. "I promise."

"What do you need me to do?" She asked somberly.

"Go air out the nursery. You can entertain our young guest in there for the evening." All hands stuttered in their work at the mention of the nursery. Not out of fear, but surprise. The nursery appeared to be a bit of a taboo subject amongst the women, but they quickly resumed their work before the Mistress could notice.

"Mistress?" Hana question, unsure if she had heard right.

"Go." She said kindly, giving her hand back to the other attendant to paint.

"Y-yes, Mistress." Hana left the dressing room to prepare the nursery for the child. The six remaining women returned to their work as they hastily made the Mistress ready for her rapidly approaching dinner party. Tabór looked toward Din, bowing her head in dismissal so they could work without having to hide the Mistress' face.