The covert that was once filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and a life outside the confines of the cove now fell into an unsettling silence. The friendly Mandalorians who mostly bared their face to the world, known for their hard work and spirited revelry, were now reduced to shells of their former selves. The weight of the Blight affliction settled in their stomachs, rendering them unable to eat or keep anything of sustenance down. They all shared the same pallor, dark circles filling their under eye and a gauntness soaked into their cheeks. A somber and heavy atmosphere was cast over their once lively community.

In the midst of this solemnity, the Mandalorian prepared himself to leave the planet for the first time in a couple months. He had settled well into this existence. Yet he knew one day he would leave though the reason why was always unknown to him. Perhaps the covert would not have worked out for him, or he was cast out by Mother Irith who believed Mando to be not a Mandalorian as his previous Armorer did. Now he and a few others are prepared to find some way to help these people survive.

"I was on Aiwei a long time ago and saw a similar thing." Tracer, sobered with the surrounding events, spoke up.

He, Mando, Bheske, and Jeasanne all sat in a transport heading to Theed by order of the Queen. Silence filled the craft, eyes stared outside the windows to the beautiful countryside. Yet every single one of them looked past the scenery before them.

"I'll be honest with you, Mudhorn, and you may not like me…but I was an Imperial stormtrooper. The things I saw when I served…"

Tracer once again went without a helmet, running hands over his hands and face to ground himself. Out of the corner of Mando's eye, he could see the man bouncing his leg.

"You don't need to say anything if you don't want to." Bheske comforted Tracer as she placed her hands on his leg.

"No, I do." He shook his head in protest. "The Empire continued perfecting bioweapons. Testing them on worlds. Watching people die horribly for the sake of science and data. Aiwei was…different."

"They could replicate the Blight but they wanted to make it better. So they would change compositions and test it. On Aiwei, the same thing that's happening here happened there. The Imps put it in their water. The people became worse and wasted away, but they didn't die. They turned into something."

Tracer took a few moments before he continued on, his hands balled into tight fists and staring down to the toe of his boots.

"They starved but didn't die. The only thing that could sustain them was living stuff. Not plants or anything like that, I'm talking meat. In a few months, most animals and reptiles were killed and they ate it raw. Then…they turned to people."

"They turned on each other and it was like they mutated every time they ate. The people who became these…things….started wailing on the Imp base 'till doors and walls broke down. Then they came after us."

The weight of seriousness only grew, the air becoming uncomfortable the more that Tracer spoke. His voice carried a grim recollection as he recounted the horrors he witnessed on Aiwei. The anguish in his eyes betrayed the harrowing experiences he had endured as he continued his account.

"Soldiers shot 'em. I shot 'em. Yet they weren't dead. It only made them angrier. They cracked our armor like it was nothing and went nuts inside the poor men's guts. Bastards responsible for causing it got caught too. A few of us made it off-world. It's still probably happening there."

After what felt like an endless silence, Mando spoke up.

"I don't think these people will turn into cannibals."

"I said it was similar," Tracer chuckled, "so I hope not. But we still don't know who destroyed the Reserve, do we? Could be an Imp plan to kill off Mandalorians, like always."

It was an open secret between the Mandalorian people across the galaxy: the Imperials were going to get them. They've been fixated on them since the early days of the Empire, the only group of people purposefully massacred until the tragedy of Alderaan happened. Anything that could go wrong, the Empire and its remnants were to blame. To outsiders, they dismissed this as superstition. The Empire was gone after all. Yet many citizens across the galaxy knew better. The ordeal with Moff Gideon only opened the window to an ugly reality to the New Republic who denied it for so long.

"It doesn't matter now. We have to petition the Queen before we can do anything." Bheske reminded everyone aboard, silence settling into the cold metal for the remainder of the journey.


Theed, the capital of Naboo, sprawled before them with its grandeur and intricate architecture, a testament to the beauty and opulence of the city. Citizens were slowly returning to their normal routines as the high from the Triumph, which occurred months ago, finally faded. With the streets no longer crowded with people, stalls, fires, confetti, balloons, any hallmark of a celebration, he could finally see the age of the city. As he taught by Jeasanne, the Naboo formed from the ancient Grizmallti who colonized this world millennia ago. Some of the oldest structures from that era remained intact, the root of the Naboo style and fashion becoming obvious to the observant onlooker.

The city's architecture showcased intricate details, ornate carvings, and embellishments that adorned the facades of every building. Stone archways soared overhead framing the paths for modern transports that either soared the sky or hovered above the ground with a timeless elegance. To Mando, this section of the city was authentic to the people and the planet. Every star port, capital, any large settlement always had a connecting sector designated for business and travel next to the ports. Often, it hosted practices that thrived off the tourism of visitors from across the galaxy. The entire city regardless of differing sectors continued on. It has stood for thousands of years and will continue to do so. The plight of the Mandalorians is nothing more than a speck of dust compared to the storied splendor of Theed. The city's appearance quickly faded to more spacious areas, entering the sector belonging to the government and the monarch.

"We're here." Jeasanne rose from her seat, letting the transport switch over to autopilot and continue its course, stopping at the marble steps of the palace.

As the four ascended the steps, nervousness and uncertainty only made them hyper aware of the area. For Mando, it was more so after the attack during the Triumph. On that day, he kept to himself out of view and eyes forward. Now his visor moved around as his eyes latched on to everything he could possibly see on his own and with different vision filters. He hadn't noticed the detailed tapestries hanging on the massive walls nor the soft glow of the chandeliers that cast a warm radiance throughout the corridors. The guards paid no mind to them as Jeasanne led the way. They merely bowed their heads and allowed them entry.

"Lady Jeasanne!" A voice echoed in the corridors.

A man approached them with open arms and a wide smile, continuing to speak.

"And you brought some more mandos! It's always so cool when one shows up!"

Mando's eyes squeezed shut, letting out a sigh. The voice, the words he chose, he remembered who this was.

"Leav!" Jeasanne returned his excitement, oozing emotion into her voice with the lack of a visible face. "It's so good to see you!"

Leav approaches, not wearing what Mando would consider being for kitchen work. He wore fine clothes, taking Jeasanne's hand and bowing with respect but did not kiss it.

"It's been awhile since you've been here! And the mandos…"

Stepping to the side, Leav was more excited to see the three in their full armored suits, t-visors staring him down. He was a young man reduced to an excited boy shaking in his boots.

"It's the Mando! I haven't seen you in-! Well, since the Triumph! Ha!"

"Kitchen Boy." Mando nodded with humor of his own that only made the young man laugh.

"You do remember me! That's so awesome." Leav flashed a bright smile.

The young man was quick to be introduced to Bheske and Tracer as the group moved through the palace. Mando noticed that Leav knew why they were there, what was going on as he and Jeasanne spoke in lowered voices. Concern settled in as Jeasanne was led outside to a courtyard as Leav remained with the three.

"Hey! Where's she going?" Tracer's naturally loud demeanor bellowed down the corridors.

"She has a private audience with the Queen."

"We've met with the Queen before. Why not now?" Bheske interjected. "I know that you know what's going on."

Mando silently observed the two who were friendly to him but showed their skeptical sides too harshly. As untrusting Mandalorians, they did not accept the world around them if there was the slight suspicion of something going wrong. Leav's happy demeanor shifted to a tone marked by discomfort, mouth tightly closed and eyes wide with worry. He glanced over to Mando, prompting a heavy sigh once more.

"Hey, that's enough." Heavy boots thudded as he put himself in front of Leav. "He's a good kid."

With that, their interrogation ended, but they remained silent. Leav quietly completed his duty, leading the three to another chamber as the distance between them and Jeasanne grew.


Large doors sighed shut, Jeasanne turning to find herself in a sacred space. Green grass in one section, dirt and sand in designated areas. It all corresponded with beautiful plants from Naboo and those Jeasanne could assume were born from desert planets. This was a garden. It was more than a garden from what she's been told. In the past, she was never invited into this slice of the palace's many courtyards. There was always a first time for everything, and she cautiously walked down the cobblestone path.

"Jeasanne! How lovely it is to see you!" The Queen called out.

Lounging within a large stone gazebo, Queen Jaissinia struggled to rise from her lounging sofa. Grunting and taking in sharp breaths, she teetered her way to the edge and stood on her own. Jeasanne stood before Queen Jaissinia and curtseyed, her body continually evolving as life continued to grow within her. She progressed to the last stage of her pregnancy, fatigue and exhaustion plaguing her despite all measures of comfort being provided to her. Jeasanne could see it behind the usual makeup and the finery that creates a Naboo monarch. Even in this state, she held her head high and her posture was strong as ever.

"Your Majesty." Jeasanne replied, offering herself to her friend and the women briefly hugged. "Your soon to be due?"

"Yes! Yet it seems like forever. Please sit."

Jeasanne did as she was told, sitting on the edge of the sofa as the Queen opted to remain up and leaned against a nearby table.

"I've…never been here before." Jeasanne awkwardly stated as she twiddled her thumbs.

"Ber said it was okay. He'll join us once he's finished."

The Commander of Naboo's forces, the Queen's husband, cultivated this space. Jeasanne knew more than most since he was her clan brother, having accepted him into her clan after saving her during the Great Purge, but it was a space shrouded in mystery. She only knew the basics of his past: Ber was born on a desert world, once married with a child before war ruined his planet as war often does. On that day, he lost his family. Though remarried and awaiting the arrival of a new child, he still honored the two that came before. The visible garden honored his homeworld. Rumor had it a more secluded area was for his departed wife and child, always planting something new on the anniversary of the attack. Today was that day. With only the three of them in this garden, Jeasanne felt comfortable showing her bare face.

Jaissinia, bare-faced and opting for more casual clothing, crossed her arms as worry wrinkled her face.

"I'm worried about Ber. I've never seen him like this. I'm this close to contacting his old friend about everything."

"I came here to discuss the Reserve." Jeasanne paused for a moment. "Do you think he may be suffering as well?"

"Of course I do. He's not worse off like you and the others. But still…"

The women discuss the Mandalorian matter, one that affects Jeasanne and Ber directly. The weight of the people's plight hung heavy in the air scented by exotic flowers as they pondered the possibilities and limitations of the queen's aid.

As Queen Jaissinia's words unfolded, it became clear that her position as the elected ruler of Naboo presented certain challenges.

"You have my deepest sympathies. We absolutely need a solution, but as queen I cannot offer it."

The clandestine nature of the Mandalorian existence on Naboo was officially unrecognized by the government. Direct assistance from any part of the establishment, including herself, was not possible.

"What about Sibi Dushein? Can you as a private citizen help us?" Jeasanne desperately petitioned.

Yet the queen shook her head. The election of a monarch effectively kills the private citizen they once were. They are the ruler of the people and nothing more. To be the ruler means to destroy the citizen they once were, as they cannot rule themselves or be ruled by any other entity other than the people. Jaissinia placed an overheated, swollen hand on Jeasanne.

"I am sorry." Her voice cracked. "But…I know a way."

A glimmer of hope flashed in Jeasanne's dark eyes, gazing up to her friend and ruler as she anxiously awaited her words.

"Dr. Kola Ti. She built the Reserve from her knowledge on the clones. She does not serve Naboo and can help. Dr. Tham can help, but she is limited since she is my physician."

"Dr. Ti? She's still here? I thought she left after-"

The conversation was cut short as banging rang in the air, metal hitting stone with a force to vibrate everything around it. The women listened intently before Jaissinia steadied herself on her feet once more.

"That's coming from where Ber is. I have to go -"

"-with all due respect, you need to stay." Jeasanne interjected. "I'll go check it out."


As Jeasanne ventured into the smaller garden, the tranquil facade shattered with every hit and ring into the air. Her senses became heightened, attuned to any sign of the disturbance. The sound of shuffling feet and a resonating thud drew Jeasanne towards a secluded corner. Amidst the beauty of nature, she came face-to-face with a sight that filled her anxious heart with more concern and sorrow.

Commander Ber-Tol, one of the strongest men she knew, continued to wail into a once beautiful statue now shattered to pieces in the fertile ground. With each impact from the flat side of the shovel, fragments scattered around him, a clear expression of the turmoil within. It bewildered Jeasanne, never before seeing him in such a state in her entire life. With a mixture of determination and concern building up in her system, she cautiously approached him. She held out an arm but could not formulate words. Her voice could not be found. As Ber continued to vent his frustrations, a marble fragment launched into the air.

"Ow!" Jeasanne cried out, instantly covering her thigh and squeezing as the pain immediately radiated.

An uncomfortable silence filled the garden. In the split second she gazed down to squeeze her thigh, her head whipped up to see Ber staring at her. His eyes were filled with anguish and tears streaming down his face. It was one of the rare occasions she saw the man as he was, not guarded by armor and helmets. The weight of his fears and sorrow seemed to consume him, causing his voice to quiver as he spoke.

"This didn't fit." The shovel shook in his hand as he pointed to the broken statue. "I told them nothing from Naboo has a place here. It didn't fit. It didn't belong. I've told them!"

The depth of his pain went far deeper than a statue that did not fit his style, but the fixation was latched on tight.

"It's okay." Jeasanne softly approached Ber. "The ugly statue is gone. Now you can put something nice up from home. Right?"

In the few conversations where this secret garden was mentioned, the commander always said it was a memory of home. Jeasanne did not know what his home was as he always refused to elaborate. Yet the clues to the desert climate plants and flowers helped illuminate the truth ever so slightly.

Eventually, Jeasanne was within arm's reach of her clan brother, seeing him more clearly than ever before. Beneath the tears and the dirt, he was a handsome man albeit mature. He was worn with age, hair and facial hair with bits of grey speckling him. Jeasanne didn't know how old he was exactly. Old enough to be her father. Old enough that his first wife is older than Jaissinia, his first child older than Jeasanne herself. Yet they never saw the day where they could age and evolve as time passed as he did.

"I can't lose them. Not again." Defeated, Ber's eyes squeezed shut, and he dropped the shovel in the tilled soil.

With a gentle but firm resolve, Jeasanne stepped closer reaching out to embrace him. She recalled the last time they held each other; the Mandalorians now belonging to the covert moving across worlds in a nomadic lifestyle and Ber remained with her. She had just entered her teen years, the birth of wild hormones and growth only clouding her already troubled mind marked by deep trauma. Though Ber was older, he never took on the fatherly role. He had always been a brother. One night where everything became too much for her to handle, he was there to soothe her. Many years have passed since that moment, yet it was repeating itself.

Tears mingled with the garden's serenity as Ber clung to her, muffled sobs vibrating in her shoulder and soaking the fabric with his breath.

"I couldn't protect them then. How can I protect Jaissinia and our child if I die? If they die before me?"

Jeasanne held him as her gentle touch offered a sense of comfort and reassurance.

"You're scared," her voice spoke in a calm manner, ", and it is justified. I know the pain you carry in your heart even if you do not speak of it."

The commander remained buried in her embrace, Jeasanne continuing to ramble on with kind words and assurances. It felt as if she spoke to herself out loud the more she continued, yet it comforted them both. She continued on, the cogs in her mind turning as her words morphed into creating ideas.

"We could rebuild, save ourselves and those we love."

"The Reserve is lost and the fear of death has returned."

"We need a cure."

"With a cure, you will be able to protect your wife and baby."

Jeasanne droned on, her voice fading into a whisper. Yet she never softened her grasp around her clan brother, who was slowly being pulled away from the cliff overlooking the sea of chaos and fright that had consumed him. They remained in the garden, their bond unbroken as they both dwelled on their desire to save those around them.


As the night settled over the palace, the Mandalorian found himself in the comfort of his respective apartment. It was far too large for his liking, having adapted to the cramped yet cozy home in the salty cove. He was but a single man, not an important dignitary with a massive family to fill each room. Instead of the ocean breeze caressing him, he was met with the uninviting draft that danced throughout the room, sending a chill down his spine with each touch.

The weight of the day's events still lingered, his mind filled with the possibilities that lay ahead. As Jeasanne was separated from them, the remaining three had a meeting of their own. It provided an opportunity that he was more than willing to explore. In the quiet solitude of his bedchamber, a soft beeping sound chirped from his forearm. As his armor and suit was interfaced to be a functional, singular unit, Mando could display the message in his visor. The sender alone motivated him to meet as they often gravitated towards each other, seeking solace and understanding.

He had invited Jeasanne into the living area of his apartment, her demeanor quiet and her aura somber. They both sat quietly in the lounge, silence dominating the cold air around them.

"I heard you met with the doctors." Jeasanne spoke, not a hint of emotion in her voice.

Mando thought it was odd. Usually she was, well, not void of emotion. He could always tell her mood from her tone as her face was guarded from outside gazes. Yet he couldn't tell how she felt at that moment.

"I did. There was a consensus that the Queen could not help."

"She will help in other ways, but without her name attached." Jeasanne nodded.

Mando handed Jeasanne a puck, illuminating her hidden face with a blue glow as the digitized image of a planet spun on its axis.

"This is where we have to go. Some sort of Kaminoan facility there. It's supposed to have parts."

"Her majesty informed me the Reserve stems from clone technology, something Dr. Ti is an expert in. So it is a reasonable assumption. There's a lesson to be shared if you're interested, though it's not Mandalorian."

Deactivating the puck, she held the puck in her open hand. Mando cautiously took the piece back into his possession, nodding to her invitation.

The clone program continued in the early years of the Empire, making up the first generation of stormtroopers. Yet the Emperor wished to move beyond the use of clones. It took 10 years to breed and train capable clones; they were once loyal to the Jedi, and there were growing anti-clone sentiments. So the program was decommissioned.

"It didn't mean the end, however." Jeasanne continued, settling into her spot and lounging back in the plush cushion. "The Kaminoans were proud and destroying their prized experiment was sacrilege to them. So they smuggled bits and pieces off Kamino before it was destroyed. Secret facilities are all over that hold impressive machinery, data, and research. Perhaps the secrets of cloning technology itself is in one of these facilities."

"Do you think there's still clones out there?"

"Unless they produced clones without the rapid aging component in their DNA, I think they all died out long ago."

Mando knew of only one clone, though old and having been through much. Yet he was 'unaltered' if he remembered correctly.

"So we need parts. What about the data and research?"

"Dr. Ti should still have her research. She'll use that again."

Mando craned his head, brows furrowing behind his helmet as thoughts churned rapidly in his mind. He was comfortable with Jeasanne, their conversations always natural and fluid. It sometimes led him to speak before his bouts of insecurity and uncertainty could restrain his thoughts.

"Is that the right move?"

"What do you mean?"

Mando shifted in his spot, sitting on the edge of the sofa and leaning closer to Jeasanne.

"It only helped your symptoms. If everyone is worse now and they take it again, wouldn't you be stuck with these symptoms forever? Until they get worse?"

Jeasanne remained silent, shoulders and chest rising and falling with each breath. Her fingers tapped on the armrest for a few moments, eventually scooting forward and leaning closer to Mando.

"I hadn't…thought about that. I should speak with Kola Ti."

Mando expected her to jump to her feet, whisking away as skirts and robes fluttered behind her in order to collaborate with the scientist. Yet she remained.

"…right now?"

"It can wait until tomorrow. Can I…stay here?"

The Mandalorian's mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he gazed upon Jeasanne visage. Her request both thrilled and unsettled him. He appreciated her presence, her comforting companionship, and the connection they have forged. But the weight of his responsibilities and the uncertainties that lay ahead weighed heavily on his shoulders. The sensation became burdensome, the rare thought of removing his armor and helmet to sleep peaceful crossed his mind.

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating the implications of allowing Jeasanne into his private space. He was unsure if she meant taking one of the many beds, or if they should share. The thought alone created palpitations. Would it complicate things? Would it be fair to either of them? However, amidst the whirlwind of thoughts, he realized that denying her request would only fuel distance to grow between them. Out of everything that swirled in his mind, he did not want that at all.

After a moment of contemplation, Mando nodded, his voice soft yet determined. "Jeh'sah, I…you can stay."

A newfound sense of hope and reassurance stirred within him. Mando reached out, gently grasping Jeasanne's hand. His touch was tender yet it was filled with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude. A mask and a veil covered her face, obscuring the miniscule cues he could pick up on. Some part of him hoped she smiled. He was relieved when she turned her hand, their palms now touching and she squeezed.

"We have quite an ordeal ahead of us, but I know we can do it. It seems like you and I could do anything together." Jeasanne confessed.

Her words struck him. Mando had just discovered the one thing that can pierce beskar. Yet he steadied himself, breathed calmly and counted down in his head before moving onto the next exercise to keep himself composed.

"You should get some rest, Jeh'sah. I can't imagine how you're feeling."

"Today has been difficult, but for once I am well." A pained laugh escaped through her teeth.

Rising from her seat, Jeasanne still held onto Mando and he rose with her. They continued this prolonged touch, staring at each other, thousands of conversations and scenarios playing out in their heads.

"You'll be doing the hard work of finding the parts." Jeasanne ended the silence between them. "You should sleep as well."

Both of them ended the night with this understanding, more to linger and reflect on as time passed. They settled into separate bedchambers, but knowing the other was there had fostered the sense of safety usually lost outside the covert. Mando took a deep breath behind closed doors as he removed his helmet and armor. It was a rare sight, even if he was safe and sound in his solitude.

As he settled into a more relaxed state, shaking the weight of the armor off long after it had been removed, the Mandalorian's mind drifted to the challenges they face. The past few days had brought a mix of difficulties and affirmations, reminding him of the importance of his role. In his former tribe, he was the only one allowed out to earn money for all of them. He was the sole provider, though it was a relaxed rule and others went freely as well. All in the name of the Way. They thanked him only for his donations to the Foundlings and nothing more was said. Here on Naboo, the Mandalorians were overly kind for his tastes. Yet they complimented him and showed gratitude when it was due. They were honest, hardworking people who finally caught a break. However, the influence of the Empire who always sought to commit genocide against them reared its ugly head in this illness. Mando had become dedicated to their well-being, unwavering in the face of adversity.

The bed was soft on his back which had grown accustomed to the rigidness of his armor; his head sank into the pillow that cooled his scalp. Mando felt a rare sense of vulnerability wash over him. It was a momentary release from the burden he carried. He could rest more easily now as he closed his eyes. In the darkness, he allowed himself to dream of a future where he could find solace and connection, not only in his duty but also in the arms of someone who understood him in ways few others could. His thoughts and worries washed away as the embrace of sleep welcomed the man beneath the armor into its domain for the first time in ages.


Mando, Bheske, and Tracer departed Naboo to begin their mission to scavenge much-needed parts for the machine. One planet seems to hold all the components, however, many more worlds were named by Dr. Ti in case one visit is not sufficient. Jeasanne remained on-world, her affliction rendering her unable to carry out strenuous tasks. Despite the ship departing ages ago, she still resided in the claimed spot of a balcony unmoving and steadfast. A gentle morning breeze rustled through the fabric covering her head, sending ribbons of cool air to the roots of her hair. The city of Theed occupied the left of her vision, as the right gave way to valleys and the beauty of nature. The palace itself was built upon a cliff neighboring a cascading waterfall that flowed into the valley below. However, this natural serenity did not bring peace for the thoughts that flowed within Jeasanne.

In her hand, she tightly gripped the data cube, an enigmatic gift she received on Nevarro months before. She often thought of Faveri, the Mirialan admiral who defied both Remnant and Republic. It was an unexpected offering from someone she would traditionally consider an adversary, and the contents remained a mystery to her.

She thought of the Isobe fleet often: where they were, if they had grown or weakened with time. Faveri was heavy with child, beaten brutally and had lost her command ship due to mutiny yet remained strong. She was further along then than where Jaissinia was currently at, so many of Jeasanne's fleeting daily thoughts went towards this hybrid child and hoped it had been born without complications.

She remained unsure in her decision to spare them and allow them to move on peacefully. Ber outranked her, yet he allowed it and spoke nothing more of the incident. The law clearly outlined the apprehension of any Imperial and affiliate, or their termination. Jeasanne did neither. Though the New Republic's influence was weak the further from the core planets orbited, there was always the idea they would find out what happened and arrest Jeasanne. The council and ministers of Naboo certainly would if they learned this as well.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the traditional window-paneled doors softly shut, the metal rubbing against each other as footsteps drew closer to Jeasanne. Elbows nestled into the stone balcony, a man leaning into the edge and gazing out to the world before them.

"Your mandos really have a problem with people. Well, except the cool one. I don't think he realizes I'm not a kitchen boy." Leav chuckled, turning his head slightly to glance at Jeasanne.

"I'm well aware."

Holding the data cube with her fingertips, Jeasanne passed it along into the palm of Leav. He immediately took it into his possession, observing the object close to his eyes.

"What do you think we should do with this?" Jeasanne's voice tinged with a blend of intrigue and apprehension.

"Hmm…" He continued to observe the cube as moments passed by.

Leav eventually straightened his posture, hiding the data cube in his palm as he closed his fist.

"Where'd you get it?"

"Imperials."

Leav's eyes widened with shock as the weight of Jeasanne's revelation settled upon him. An uneasy aura lingered around them, his mind grappling with the implications of the cube's origins.

"What's on it?"

"That's the mystery to be solved."

"Do you know how fucked we are if anyone found this?"

"I do."

"This is probably the most illegal thing you've done. Hiding classified data…by the stars…" Leav lamented, sighing as he worked through his emotions.

"Well…add it to the list I suppose."

There was an awkward silence between them, Leav stiffening in his stance and attempting to dig his fingers into the stone before them. Yet his resolve was weak. With one final sigh, he held up his head and faced the world once more.

"I'll…get someone to decode it for you." Leav resigned himself to his role as a shadowy ally, their relationship built over a few years beginning in the civil war. He turned on his heel, pointing a finger at her face. "What do you plan to do with this?"

It was Jeasanne's turn to swivel in her stance, positioning her head upwards to face the taller man.

"It may have answers. It may not. But it won't hurt to look, now will it?"

Jeasanne kept to herself the words of the Mirialan; the hinting that this simple and small data cube had something to do with the Mandalorians. Its Imperial origin signaled to her that this was a key into possible plentiful knowledge that can be used for their purposes. It could change the fate of their people. Jeasanne's determination fueled her commitment to this cause, driving her forward in the quest to finally create a cure. She had only hoped that those she loved could find the parts to begin again.