(a/n): Hello, welcome to my little Star Wars story! This will begin Post S1 and go into S2, so expect a lot of fun, drama, and general Star Wars stuff. ^_^ I will be following Mandalorian and Star Wars canon, for the most part, but there will also be several inclusions from Legends, the video games, etc. It's a melting pot over here! I hope you all enjoy my story. ^_^

CHAPTER ONE

THE HUNTED

PLANETARY LOCATION - TAKODANA

It is with a sharpened hiss that Naea Oleander jerks from a deepened slumber. The cot tucked into the wall is built up of a narrow space, so her forehead nearly rams hard against the metal ceiling over her. She catches herself, palm outstretching as if by common sense to stop the motion. Her chest rises and falls with each feral breath. A thin sheen of sweat coats her brow. The idle thrum of her ship, along with the rain outside, is an accompanying hymn to her rapid breaths, as well as the soft little chirps of BD unit perched someplace on a high shelf; he likes to keep an eye on things, like a bird. Out from the corner of her eye, Naea can tell that he is alert now, but he doesn't move from his perch just yet. The soft light blue glow of his little lenses pierces through the darkness, serving as a little comfort, but Naea's mind is someplace else; faraway from her ship.

Carefully, Naea swings her legs over the edge of the cot, and hunches forward. She brushes her hand over her brow, cringing a little at the dampness there. The planet is near the end of its spring cycle, so the air is a little chillier, but she already knows this has nothing to do with the climate. Her dreams have been so real. She can still feel the ache in her legs as she had started to run, feel the heat of blaster fire almost hitting her head, but ultimately just grazing strands of her wavy blonde hair. Disgruntled, and far too anxious to sleep, Naea forces herself to her feet. Her legs protest, but she walks on. From the wall she grabs her cloak, pulling it over herself. The droid is watching her closely now, and finally leaps from off of his perch when she opens the hatch to her ship. She can hear him chirping behind her as he follows close behind, ever the vigilant, albeit confused, companion.

Naea ignores his prodding questions. Her head is thudding violently, her thoughts a muddled mess of inky blackness conjoined with a horrible heat and cool. Stepping out into the rainy weather of Takodana, she is inhales deeply. The moon is high and full above her, piercing through the grey clouds casting a silvery glow across the bright blue water and the vibrant green forests surrounding her, as well as an ominous shadow around Takodana Castle. Despite it being well into the night, the castle itself is still alive with a distant ruckus; occupants still drinking, gambling, chatting. The rain itself is a gentle one, the smell of it reminding her of a distant memory she can't quite place.

Naea steps off of the ramp and towards the lake her ship is docked by. Stopping by the edge of the water, Naea crouches down and dips her sweaty hand into it. The cool water grasps ahold of her, and she wishes she could let herself sink in...maybe she could compose her thoughts better, just floating in a large abyss. It's no different from meditation, if slightly less boring. Withdrawing her hand, Naea casts a small glance towards the droid at her side.

The BD unit, D2-8A (otherwise referred to as Data), regards her with a small tilt in his head. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asks, and nuzzles close to burrow himself underneath her cloak.

It wasn't a nightmare. Her lips press tightly together, considering the vibrant, horrible images that had drifted across her inner eye as she slept. She tries to hone in on them, focus on something well and truly visible, like what created the shadow rather than the shadow itself. The dream, no, the vision, had been scattered. Everything felt so out of place. But she knew for certain was that she was in danger. Someone had been blasting at her, chasing her in a busy town square on a planet she did not recognize, but she knew there was sand on the ground. And the air...felt dry. She swallows, realizing her throat is parched. Desert planet, maybe, she considers. More than one person had been after her. From being chased through a square, she had also seen herself in hyper space, in a ship she did not recognize. She saw...no, she felt something calling to her, like a whisper.

But it was hard to hear it, because it is impossible to hear a whisper when constantly surrounded by shouting.

With an annoyed sigh, Naea finally looks down at her droid. "I think we should go," she says.

Someone is coming after her. She doesn't know what or who, but she knows that there is a target on her back now. Well, that is to say, a target has always existed on her back...but she has had the advantage of being inferior, nameless, nonexistent in those ancient archives and documents. Secrecy in her profession had been so critical. She herself had been a shadow. But that doesn't mean she was forgettable.

This was inevitable. Someone would put a hit on her eventually. The tense quiet she has known for the last five years has been a temporary grace, at best.

"But I like it here," protests D2-8A. "Where are we going?"

Naea likes it here, too. Takodana is a beautiful planet, but more so than that it has been easy to blend in. She occasionally visited the Takodana Castle, to keep up with supplies and also, occasionally, socializing to save her sanity. But mostly she used it as a means to keep an eye on things. Various types of people, from hunters to Rebels to political figures to ragtag smugglers have passed through, and have inadvertently kept her updated on the state of the galaxy. She has been safe here, as well. Sometimes she will provide services in ways of mechanics, by fixing broken ships or droids of other things. She has always been good with mechanics, with fixing things, and it's helped keep credits in her pocket.

But it's time for this life here, no matter how brief, to end.

Staying here was a grace too good to be true.

"We'll go somewhere nice," Naea promises. It's the middle of the night. She could leave under the shroud of darkness, disappear someplace far away very quickly...but not yet. She needs supplies, first and foremost, and maybe even information. The stars are a broad and violent place nowadays, even after the New Republic has started to temper the Empire's influence. The pirate queen of Takodana might know some things, specifically people, who can help her. "I'll be honest with you, someone is coming after me."

"You said we'd be safe," protests D2-8A.

"And it was. But we're not safe, anymore," Naea says, swallowing. "But you can stay, if you want. I could talk to the mechanic in town about -"

The droid looks a little bewildered by the suggestion, then, with loud whirs and trills, shakes his head. "But then you'd be alone! I couldn't leave you!"

Naea thought so. She reaches out to touch the droid's head affectionately, a small, fleeting smile appear across her lips. "I want you to wait here," she says. "I'm going to go talk to the pirate queen."

"Are we leaving tonight?"

"Probably." Naea brushes her tongue over her dry lips. "Do you remember that smuggler we met on Corellia? He said the pirate queen knows people. We can use that. Maybe she knows someone who might..." She stops, teeth gritting. "Someone who could help, or someone who is after us."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Naea shakes her head. "No. But I'll handle this. Stay with the ship, Data."

Casting her droid a quick stern glance, Naea pushes herself to her feet and walks at a rapid pace towards the castle. She is clad in a pair of loose brown pants and a tan shirt, but she has slippers on her feet and is mostly an inconspicuous sight. The cloak around her body, dampening due to the rain, does well to shadow her. It is so late in the night, she imagines she shall hardly stand out in the array of noise and ruckus exuding from the castle. Maz Kanata, as well, is definitely awake...and Naea has a hunch that she is aware of what is coming, to some measure.

If she is to be completely honest, no, she does not think that this is a good idea. If she had proper sense, she would have left immediately, resources be damned, and flown to the closest planet. She would abandon her ship on some crowded dock and discreetly steal another...and repeat the process once or twice more for good measure. Technically speaking, she still can. She can find an accessible ship with a weak-minded owner. Yet all the same, she knows that her droid is a nervous things, and she doesn't want to short circuit due to fear by leaving in haste. And, besides, her feet are carrying her naturally towards the castle.

"It'll be fine," Naea murmurs, to herself.

Something chirps behind her, skittering hastily. Without looking back, Naea knows her little droid is disobeying her, but rather than scold him, she leans down and offers her arm. Data gratefully climbs onto her arm and over her shoulder, promptly forcing himself into her oversized hood so he can rest comfortably. His metal rubs against her face and neck and her hair will no doubt get caught in the droid, but she doesn't stop him. Rather, she presses forward.

Once to the castle, she pushes open the doors. The air inside is cold, though she blames her dampened cloak for equally dampening her clothes for most of the chill, but more so than that it feels overwhelmingly tense. It's as if she could easily drown in it. Clack, clack, clack, goes the rain over her head. She tries to focus on something else, anything else. There are a couple of sketchy looking characters in the corner, huddled together and speaking in a muffled language she does not understand. Their eyes skitter and their mouths move quickly. If Naea had to wager, she would assume they were gamblers; their fingers twitched periodically, and their eyes seemed to be looking for someone. Likely a hunter come to retrieve them for their dues.

The barkeep, who is a boar-looking man with scraggily hair and a great belly, brings them drinks without much care, and then attends to a distinguished family of Ortolans, who seem to be doing their best to avoid the strange lurking characters. Naea can only assume they are here to hide from the rain, but, then again, this watering hole seems to be a nesting ground for all sorts of depraved and questionable characters. But none of these people matter to her, not when she has one person on her mind.

Outside, there is an unexpected thunderclap so loud that it causes even a few of the castle's occupants to either jump or look up from their drinks. Although Takodana stands as a relatively neutral planet, she still does not like being here. Just as D2-8A dislikes the rain, so, too, does she dislikes the uncertain.

It unnerves her.

Naea pressess mostly undetected through the crowd, her eyes searching. Although she had spent a few weeks on Takodana, she had never become fully acquainted with its patrons. There was a danger in that she could not afford. As of such, she had not come to know who Maz Kanata was among the strange and odd figures she saw come and go through Takodana Castle. From her understanding, the pirate queen was a woman who knew everyone and everything, and Naea had not wanted to make introductions with her until absolutely necessary. The last thing Naea had needed was for Maz to be familiar with her so soon.

Naea exhales shakily as she glances across the strange figures who laugh, gamble, drink, eat, and mingle among each other. Despite herself, her heart thuds nervously. D2-8A seems to sense this, for he nuzzles her cheek. She strokes his head, trying to ignore his nervous beeps and chirps. Now more than ever, she needs to be alert. She can't have another mishap.

Her eyes go about scanning the countless strange faces and gaggles of people. It's a gamble even being here. She understands that, but her options are low, and it's not as though she has access to her former equipment to easily find the object of her attentions. This, she supposes, is what someone would call desperation. Feeling less than thrilled by her circumstances, Naea tries to hone in and focus on every presence in the castle, reading them to the best of her ability. Gratefully, no one seems to be paying attention to her. A human clad in a dampened cloak and a dismayed expression, with a droid a little worse for wear upon her shoulder, is hardly a standout figure in a place like this. A handful have no doubt seen her before. She's never caused trouble, so why bother? That much is a relief, if nothing else.

Amidst the loud rumbles of laughter, drinking, thunder, and loud music somewhere within the castle, Naea tries expanding her mind. To call upon the Force still feels unnatural, like a great sting that dwells someplace deep within her. She pushes herself to extend the Force outward to her surroundings, examining the various people surrounding her.

It is not until she feels something, like an echo, that she stops. Slowly, she turns her body and moves towards it before it has a chance to fade. She pushes through the crowd, until she finds a table where a gaggle of aliens sit. They appear to be playing a card game, laughing between each other, but the sound of it subsides when Naea looms over them.

D2-8A presses his head against her shoulder, apprehensive.

"I'm looking for Maz Kanata," Naea says. "I can pay."

She does not have much in the way of credits, but the Force can be a very useful influence when under these circumstances. The aliens don't seem too interested in the offer. If anything, they look as if they want to laugh now at her expense. A large blue alien elbows another, making an array of gurgling sounds that Naea can roughly translate as to, what an idiot. Her lips press together, but she forces herself to play dumb. The smaller of the aliens rises from her seat. She's an orange alien with a large, wrinkled head, and goggles which enhance a pair of strange eyes which look upon Naea with curiosity. She stands upon her chair if only to appear tall, her gaze almost level with Naea.

Naea has seen this alien before, but has never thought much of her until now.

The alien opens her hands, and gestures for Naea to take a seat at the free chair across from her. "Pay, hmm?" she says, sounding amused now. "And what are you paying for, exactly?"

Although hesitant to sit, Naea does not wish to make herself come across as imposing or a general danger. Rather, against her own comforts, she sits down. The droid tucks himself deeper into her head, his eyes looking intently across the figures surrounding them. Naea keeps her focus on the orange alien in question, forcing herself to feel the echo which resides at this table, and hone in on its source. It seems to be reverberating off of something, though Naea is having trouble pinpointing it exactly; it fades out so quietly, before musing back again. A very frustrating echo.

"Information," Naea replies, simply.

The aliens exchange looks between each other, before the orange alien smiles broadly and sits down herself. "Well, luckily for you, I am she," says the alien. She looks to her companions and gestures for them to go, casting a subtle wink to the large blue one who gurgles and chortles at her. "You have my undivided attention."

Maybe Naea has more luck than she thought. With the others having parted from the table, the echo is a little louder now, and Naea is able to pinpoint it on the alien before her. Maz Kanata. Naea can't say that this is what she expected from the famed pirate queen. She had imagined someone taller and more imposing; a weapon wielder, a fighter, a leader. What stands before her is a strange alien who likely could barely reach Naea's hip. On the surface, it seems that this Maz Kanata hardly lives up to her reputation. All the same, Naea can't help but to shudder against her gaze. Those searching eyes of hers, magnified by her goggles, hold something else.

Feeling a little unsettled, Naea shifts and tries to keep her gaze leveled with Maz's. Even as D2-8A chirps in her ear, she keeps her expression masterfully composed. I'm not so sure about this, the droid says quietly. Naea discreetly touches the droid's foot in an effort to comfort it, but is quick to bring her attentions back onto Maz, who is still smiling pleasantly at her, and waiting expectantly.

"They call you the pirate queen. Someone with that kind of reputation gains all types of friends," Naea says. "I could use that kind of knowledge."

"Friends, foes, what goes in between," Maz says. "What is it you want?"

"I'm looking for someone," Naea says, leaning forward, "an information broker who's notorious for lying low. I'm sure you know the types."

Maz reaches to a rusted goblet and raises it to her lips. "I do. In that field, one has to protect themselves and their information. It's a dangerous thing, to know about anything," she says. "I could do better if I had a name."

"I know his name is Talon Karrde," Naea says, watching Maz's expression intently. There is no hesitance or shocked recognition upon that wrinkled face, nor even any pique of curiosity. Maz's expression remains the same as it has been; pleasant, but also morbidly amused. "I know you've heard his name, at the bare minimum. I just need information on him. You seem the best bet."

At that, the pirate queen scoffs. "And why, exactly, are you seeking Talon Karrde out?" she asks. "I was under the assumption only desperate men looked for him, or ambitious bounty hunters."

"I'm neither," Naea says, though she does know she is desperate. "Do you have the information or not?"

Maz narrows her eyes, seemingly taking Naea in just as the girl had taken the alien in a moment ago. Her gaze is still an intent thing, as if trying to peel back the layers of flesh serving as a barrier between the world and her mind. Naea meets the gaze back just as intently, at least so she hopes. She thinks, for a moment, that Maz will not help her. After all, asking around for someone like Talon Karrde just breeds trouble, but the pirate queen is hardly shy to the concept. If the rumors and the stories are true, then the pirate queen has lived unlike any other.

"I'm afraid I don't know much," Maz says. "Talon keeps a low radar nowadays, thanks to the New Republic. He hasn't visited Takodana in about four years. I think the New Republic frightened him."

Naea swallows. Five years ago, the Empire had fallen, thanks to the actions of the seemingly last Jedi and the Rebellion, and now the New Republic has seized power back in the galaxy. It leaves the remnants of the Empire scattered. Simply because they have fallen, does not mean they are gone; just broken fragments laced throughout the galaxy now. They seek out their missing parts, no doubt, but they'll never be as whole as they were before. At least, so Naea hopes. "It's a tricky business nowadays," she says. "Do you know any of his associates?"

"I might," Maz says. "But no one admits to be dealing with Talon. Any one of these fine men could be affiliated with him, but you'd never know, would you?"

"Frustratingly enough, yes," Naea says. "Do you know anyone who might know where he is?"

Maz appears considerate, her strange fingers rubbing her too small of a chin. "There is one," she says. "There is a Master Codebreaker on Canto Bight. I know for a fact he deals with all sorts of unsavory characters - Talon Karrde likely being one of them."

"Fitting, since Canto Bight is an unsavory place," Naea says.

She has been there before, for a handful of assignments. It brings her no pleasure to go back there. Her appearance is drastically changed from last she visited that planet, but certain memories linger more than others, and the idea of being recognized fills her with no glee. But so far it seems like the only option she has, even if there is no guarantee it will lead her to the smuggler in question.

"How do I find this Codebreaker?" Naea asks.

"You'll find him in the casino, with a red plom bloom on his lapel, rolling at a high stakes table," Maz replies.

"For a master he's hardly laying low."

"You wouldn't either if you were him," Maz says, a little wistfully. "But that's all the information I have."

"It's enough," Naea says, reaching into her pocket to withdraw some credits.

"Keep them," Maz says, raising her goggles up her forehead, unveiling how very small, yet still very seeing, her eyes are. "I imagine you'll be needing them, for what you're looking for. Rather, who."

Naea's own eyes narrow. "Thank you for your help," she says. "I should probably - "

The castle all at once falls silent, drawing the gazes of both Maz and Naea, who look out across the crowd. Everyone has gone completely still, staring towards the entrance, some peering over the other, and a handful starting to tremble. Naea cannot see what resides over the crowd, though something in her tenses, and she can feel the Force tingle anxiously within her. Her fingers graze the carefully concealed hilt of her blade at her hip, if only for solace. The Maker willing, she'll have no reason to activate it. As it were, it is not long she must wait to learn of what has caused the disruption. Skittering across the floor, a mouse-like droid hastily climbs the table and chirps so rapidly to Maz that Naea can scarcely catch a word of it.

Maz leans close, her face wrinkling all the more as she pays careful heed to the droid. Her beady eyes look intently upon Naea, who is suddenly feeling very cornered, and then back towards the droid. She nods at it, and gestures for it to go. It does so, without hesitation.

"What does it want?" Naea asks, tensely.

Maz straightens. "A Mandalorian," she says. "I think it's time for you to go."

Despite herself, Naea swallows. Something inside of her tightens with promise, her fingers longing to reach towards something at her hip that isn't there; the urge to fight swells deep within. She suppresses it, pushing it back into a makeshift cave within herself. Her gaze flickers across the crowd, which covers the view to the door and, by proxy, the Mandalorian in question. "I don't have reason to fear one of those cultists," Naea says, curtly, even as she feels her veins turn to ice. Him. He's the one.

"You and I both know that you should. We feel it," Maz says. "What could you have done to garner the attentions of a Mandalorian?"

Naea inhales sharply. The echo within Maz Kanata suddenly enhances into something greater, like a tidal wave against a shoreside, and Naea feels it tear against herself. With Maz's eyes intent upon her, Naea realizes that this alien is trying to read her. Forcibly, Naea strengthens the barriers around her mind, and pushes herself to her feet.

"You, my girl, are being hunted," Maz says, without any measure of pause or hesitation. "It would be within your best interest to leave."

"And if the Mandalorian asks questions?"

"He will be met with silence. I suggest you leave quietly."

"He'll see me if I do," Naea says, reaching into her pocket and setting down a handful of credits in front of Maz. "For the damage."

Before the pirate queen has any notion to reply or even comprehend what Naea plans to do, it's already in action. Naea presses out her hand, honing in on the array of jugs and bottles containing various types of fine liquor. All at once, they explode. The contents flood every which way, their vast array of colors molding into a hellish rainbow, and shards of glass scatter. It causes a ruckus, as a rich gentleman hosting a handful of women are suddenly shouting and racing out of the way, whilst the sketchy gaggle of aliens race to avoid the onslaught. The occupants of the castle are quick to panic. A handful leap onto tables, while others are bolting in varying directions. It is this randomized chaos that Naea sinks herself into.

She pushes through the crowd, effortlessly ducking and weaving between the people; using the Force as her guide, to the safest route. The doors are opened, with several people rushing out to avoid the unexpected explosion and-or the Mandalorian himself. Outside is no better. The rain still pelts fiercely down upon them, so thick that it is like a sheet of stained glass blocking her every step. Thunder roars in the distance and lightning crackles.

"It's wet," D2-8A protests.

"Would you rather face the Mandalorian, Data?" Naea asks, pulling the hood of her cloak over the little droid. Without waiting for the droid's reply, she races out into the rain; as fast as her long legs can carry her.

The ground is wet and slippery, yet Naea maintains her expert footing as she runs. She can't hear what resides behind her, for the thunder and the rain are so great that all else is deafened. But she feels no disturbance in the Force; no immediate danger. With any luck, the Mandalorian is occupied by the onslaught of people. If she's especially lucky, during the chaos he may very well have been knocked out. But she knows that she is likely not so lucky.

Get to the ship, get to the ship, Naea chants, and bites back a relieved sigh when her ship comes into view. The ship in question is a Ye-4 gunship that Naea had claimed as her own some odd years ago. It was a year or two after the Empire fell, if she remembers correctly; a girl on the run in Corellia, who had happened upon a weak-minded pilot who had succumbed all too easily. Ideally, she would have taken a moment to overview the whole of the ship, ensuring nothing is out of place; no loose wires, no visible trackers. But she has no time for this. If need be, she'll lose the ship on another planet, or tear it apart once she's safely out of the same system as the Mandalorian. Besides, she can have Data look over everything. He's good at assessing the state of their ships.

Once safely nestled in the cockpit, Naea's fingers move quickly, and expertly, across the board. D2-8A is perched in the co-pilot's chair, watching her.

"Do you think he'll get us?"

"No, we're fine," Naea lies.

"You said no lies," D2-8A.

"I've told you this before, that was a lie, too," Naea says. "It's your fault you trust me."

The droid falls quiet, his head dipping low. Naea has no time to feel guilty for her droid's feelings, for she has more pressing matters at hands. Her fingers move rapidly, until her ship groans with life, and its lifting up off the ground. Her mind is racing, yet her movements do not cease. Focus. Naea is aware of the looming bounties that exist over her head, but surely they would have long since subsided by now. After all, the Empire is gone and the New Republic reigns. They must have more urgent matters to attend to than people like her. Frankly, she wouldn't be shocked if most people - those few who knew of her - assumed she was already dead.

It seems someone hasn't forgotten her. The query is, is it the doing of a Rebel or an Imperial? Either way, Naea doesn't like it, and she likes it much less having less information than she did when she first came here. She is no closer to finding Talon Karrde and his allies than she is to getting off of this planet in one piece. If she is lucky, the Mandalorian will take his time looking through the enormous castle, and even longer to ask Maz Kanata where she is, or where she has gone. If. More than likely, he'll make quick work of it. The strange orange alien owes her nothing, so she'll likely tell the Mandalorian where she's gone.

Naea has no intention of dying today. She's seen the archives of the Clone Wars and the bloodshed which transpired on Mandalore. She knows their prowess and capabilities, more so when it's a bounty hunter with nothing to lose...she can't afford it.

Too big a gamble, she thinks with a scoff. Much like this planet.

It isn't until her nerves had slackened from the aftermath of lightspeed that she allows herself to breathe. What worse, looking for an underground smuggler, with far too many grips upon far too many people and invisible to every radar, but now a Mandalorian is hunting her. If it were the New Republic, she would have heard something about her name or face by now. The New Republic, although allegedly having purged the Empire from the plains of the galaxy, were fairly apparent when it came to hunting its stragglers. No. It couldn't be the New Republic, Naea reasons as she brushes her fingers over her jaw. She hadn't mattered. When the Empire had fallen with the Emperor, no one had come after her - she wasn't important enough for retrieval - she had merely slipped under the radar.

Perhaps she exists on some database somewhere; a name and a face that would be younger than she is now. Naea exhales tensely. Damned uncertainty. Whatever the case, disappointingly, someone remembers her. It truly is a shame that she hadn't followed her gut all those years ago, choosing to not track down and kill anyone who had any recollection of her face. That is to say, the important ones. She had been a foolish and frightened girl back then, she supposes; eager to flee. Now she rues having not taken the necessary precautions. Instead, she had trusted the New Republic to hunt down the remnants of the Empire and deal with them.

One does not simply eradicate an entire parasitic species, she supposes; some always linger.

Naea's fingers close. But with that remembrance, do they want her dead or alive? This is yet another uncertainty that causes Naea to groan. Yet one thing she knows to be an absolute, the Mandalorian is dangerous, and outrunning him is a luck that will expire sooner rather than later. That alone is a laughable thought. Having escaped Takodana was a stroke of pure luck. More than likely, he is aware she is off-planet at this point. He'll track her. Although the rain had started to fall heavily when she left the castle, Naea can only imagine a handful of people who will point their fingers to her direction. I should have killed them, too, Naea thinks.

Still, it's too dangerous to go directly to Canto Bight. It would garner too much attention if she were to arrive there and be promptly followed by a Mandalorian, particularly if in an already loud and boisterous casino. Maz Kanata might even inform the Mandalorian about her queries, what she's looking for, where she's going. More so, there may be one or two familiar faces who would be inclined to turn her in or raise a ruckus. It's important that she find this Master Codebreaker, for he is the only key to Talon Karrde currently in her pocket, but she can't find either of them if she's dead.

Canto Bight and all else will have to wait, much to her chagrin.

D2-8A, noting her quiet despair, leaps off of the chair and on top of the console, where he perches comfortably. "Are you okay?"

"We're in quite a bit of danger," Naea says.

"Aren't we always?" the droid asks, watching her as she punches coordinates into the console. "We're not going to Canto Bight?"

"Not yet," Naea replies. "We need to outrun the Mandalorian first."

"He can't track us through lightspeed."

"Never tell a Mandalorian the odds."

"Okay...so where are we going?"

"Selvaris," Naea says. "It's desolate thanks to the Empire, and the New Republic hasn't bothered to clean it up. It doesn't even exist on most star charts. With any luck, we'll lose him. We can just lay low for a few days and then work our way to Canto Bight. Maz Kanata might have covered for us, but she may have told the Mandalorian where we might be headed. We can't risk it."

"Mandalorians are good trackers," D2-8A says. "And the Mandalorian could also track Talon Karrde down and kill him thinking that we -"

"Your enthusiasm is dually noted. One step at a time, Data," Naea replies, dryly. "I've killed more dangerous things."

(a/n): Here we are, chapter one! I hope you all enjoyed it. It was so much fun writing this, and setting up the characters, and featuring a fun cameo for Maz. ^_^ So, who is Naea Oleander? Why is Mando hunting her? Ya'll are just gonn have to read and find out. *evil cackle*

Please read, review, favorite, follow if you enjoyed this! *heart*

~CASTING~

Naea Oleander: Kat McNamara

Maz Kanata: Lupita Nyong'o