In the forests of Dygon Prime stood a tall metal beast enshrouded in shrubs and all sorts of flora. The pair of rebelling droids had spent the entirety of a day concealing their location. When they'd first landed, Ron had hooked up his tablet to the ship's interface in preparation for the rest of the droids reactivation but noticed a strange protocol had been activated after having left Maridun. It was the same one as before: Order 77. Thankfully, he'd detected no changes in the overall system and electronics of their transport.

Paranoia overcame him, however. Still not yet recovered from their encounter with the malicious fiend from Maridun, Ron had decided that hiding their location for the time being would be the most ideal course of action. There was still too much they didn't know about the world.

Rev still didn't know how to feel about the whole Maridun incident. Never had he seen such a betrayal, a logic-less form of brutality that he'd only ever heard about from the clones and organics. It didn't make sense to ponder it further, thus he focused on finally powering on the rest of the droids.

"Four years? It's that efficient?" Rev asked regarding the oil.

"Yes. One gallon, one year but only if we use it wisely," Ron scanned the surrounding area for what must've been the hundredth time.

"Would you stop already, you're messing with my audio receptors," Rev said, becoming increasingly annoyed at the constant humming from Ron's holotablet.

"I am only ensuring our safety. This will be the last scan I do for today, I promise"

One last pulse of humming white noise came from Ron's tablet. Rev almost felt as if his circuits had sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Now can we start powering them on?" Rev asked, agitated by Ron's strange behavior.

Ron stood still for a moment, seemingly calculating something in his head, "I still have to reprogram the droids we found on Maridun but the rest you may power up. I believe we should be fine by now," Ron said.

Rev moved with no hesitation, making his way up their ship's metal ramp. The loud clanking of his steps attracted all of Ron's attention.

"Stop walking so loud, you're going to give our position away," he said, his voice deepening in a futile attempt to convey anger with his robotic voice.

"Sorry," Rev said. It was already difficult enough to suppress the clanking of his metal feet, his excitement certainly didn't help.

The droids in the middle aisle had taken up quite a lot of space, enough to leave Rev nearly tripping with every step he took. Eventually, after a brief battle with his own feet, he made it to the back of the bay where the generator had been hastily wheeled in.

He carefully grabbed one of the gallons of oil and poured it into the opening on the generator.

Ron walked in and stood beside him, not wanting to miss the occasion.

"They won't power on immediately by the way. From what I've discovered in my time reprogramming these droids, there's some sort of safety measure that was activated after that protocol was executed. We'll have to power them on manually," Ron explained.

"We have plenty of time," Rev said in response.

One by one, they went around hooking up the droids to the generator, starting with Rags seeing as their ship was in dire need of repairs. His expertise with vehicles in general would be a great boon for all of them. Ron made sure OOM-342 was hooked up next, excited to finally have a chance to speak with another OOM droid without the bother of protocols and the constant threat of an attack. After finishing hooking up the rest of their motley crew, Ron began the tedious process of reprogramming the droids they'd found on Maridun. The process was quickened by the fact that he'd already done most of the work when he'd reprogrammed the rest of the droids.

"What do you think they were doing out there?" Rev asked. The wait for the rest of the droids to recharge had already begun to wear down his circuits.

"I am unsure. I don't recall ever hearing about a base on Maridun. The only thing of use there was the oil but we already had plenty of that. In fact, I don't recall a shortage on any of our supplies," Ron said.

He swatted away at a pair of bugs that had flown in from the forest outside. Their incessant buzzing drove him mad as his audio receptors struggled to deafen the noise.

"I don't think I'll ever understand why we lost," Rev said. In reflection, all of it had been a tragedy. So many droids were destroyed, all for no reason. Not only that, but the reputation of droids all across the galaxy was forever damaged and would not heal for a very long time.

"The more I think about the war, the less it makes sense. It's best we move on," Ron said. He'd finally set up the wires between all of the droids for reprogramming, save for the B2 who needed his own special treatment. Their protocols seemed to be much stricter and less flexible and adaptive like their B1 counterparts. It comforted him to know that B1s weren't made to be completely weak.

"Right," Rev absentmindedly fiddled with the strands of fur that stuck out from the outfits they'd used. He looked over to his holotablet, fighting the urge to look at the latest news regarding the remaining Separatist holdouts. All it took was a glance at the droids before him to completely forget about it.

For the next hour, Ron managed to get the B1's reprogrammed fairly quickly and set them up for charging soon after but began having trouble with the B2. Meanwhile, Rev kept pacing from one side of the ship to the other.

"Rev, scan the area again, my sensors are picking up something," Ron said, tapping at his head.

"I feel that too," Rev responded, noticing the strange interference just after Ron had mentioned it.

It was a sort of buzzing, something that felt familiar to them but to which they couldn't quite pin down. Rev moved to the cockpit once more. Suddenly, one of the droids began moving.

Rags sat up, looking around in confusion, "What happened? Did I die? Am I going to meet the maker?" he said with increasing worry.

"I thought you said they were supposed to be manually powered on?" Rev said, turning back to Ron.

"They are, although I guess it is entirely possible for them to wake up on their own once their behavior core has activated," Ron said.

"Where am I?" Rags stood, facing his supposed saviors.

"You're on Dygon Prime," Ron said.

"What are we doing here? I need to get back to repairing those AATs," Rags looked around, seemingly searching for something.

"There's no need for that Rags, the war is over"

"What? How many years has it been since I powered off?"

"It hasn't been years, only a little over a month so far"

Rags stumbled over one of the crates at his side, latching onto the door leading into the cockpit.

"That can't be possible, we were getting pushed back sure but we couldn't have lost that quick"

"From my very brief research, it seems as if all battle droids were deactivated at some point or another. That is how we lost"

"But if that's the case, how did you two survive?"

Ron and Rev looked to each other, "We were disconnected from the Separatist network early on in our mission on Felucia. Our systems never received the signal to shut down"

Rags looked to the floor, "So it's really over?"

"Yes, unfortunately it is. The world you knew no longer exists"

Rev smacked Ron upside the head, "Don't say it like that"

"What? I was only stating the truth"

"What do we do now?" Rags asked.

"Me and Rev had already been planning our escape for quite some time. Our end goal now is to establish a sort of sanctuary for droids. Living without the worry of obeying any commander or having to deal with organics"

Rags finally seemed to have gotten his footing back and let go of the door behind him, "I like the sound of it. Plenty of time left for me to tinker with any vehicle I want," Rags felt a spring of electric excitement, "Any vehicle I want…I can work on anything. That doesn't sound bad," If Rags had a face, he surely would've been smiling, "You have my support, so what's the plan?"

"I'll go over the plan once everyone else has powered on," Ron said, gesturing to the droids scattered about the cargo bay.

"Roger that sir," Rags said with a salute.

"No need for those formalities anymore"

Rev stepped forward, pulling some of the droids away from the middle aisle, "Our ship has been having issues, could you take a look at it"

"Sure, what's the problem?"

Ron watched as the two walked out into the forest outside as Rev began explaining their problems. He looked over to the OOM droid he'd hooked up. It wasn't until now that he began to realize that perhaps OOM-342 would not be so forgiving of his actions back on Felucia. He still felt a pang of guilt whenever he thought back to that day. With time going against them, all rationale seemed to have gone out of his head when he'd shocked OOM-342 into submission. Maybe it had been a mistake. Briefly, he thought about disconnecting him from the generator but just as quickly as it had entered his train of thought did it leave.

'I would be no better than that person on Maridun,' he thought to himself. Reluctantly, he planted his feet down into the metal plating of the ship's hull and forced himself to await the OOM's awakening.

In a matter of minutes, which felt like hours to Ron, OOM-342 began moving. He slowly sat up, clutching a hand to his face.

Silently, he began looking around, eventually stopping his scan of the perimeter on Ron.

"How are you feeling?" Ron said.

"Where am I? What did you do?" OOM-342 stood, feeling the back of his head.

"We are no longer on Felucia. We have freed you from the Separatists and your programming"

"You must be malfunctioning," OOM-342 made his way over to Ron, "I will have to arrest you and have your memory wiped," he reached for something on his belt but found nothing was there, "Where is it?"

"There's no need for that. The war is over," Ron already felt tired of saying it at this point, "We were defeated and that's that. Now it is time to move on"

"Now I am certain you are malfunctioning. I will have to call in for backup, then we will get this all sorted," OOM-342 began emitting a radio signal.

"Try it, you won't find a response. Like I've already said, the Separatists are long gone"

OOM-342 ignored him but as the seconds passed by and he received no response, his circuits began to falter for the first time in his life, "That can't be possible. We were at the base, the attacks were still going strong. I must be malfunctioning," he clutched his head.

"You aren't, I can prove it to you," Ron reached over to his holotablet and began connecting to the galactanet. This time, however, the connection was completely dead, "What? I was using it just yesterday"

He looked out to the forest outside, 'Maybe Rags is messing with something outside,' he thought.

"They can't be gone," OOM-342 continued, "I have to return to my post, they still need me," he hurried outside but was confronted with reality immediately, "Where are we? Where did you take me?"

"We're on a small planet called Dygon Prime. I can explain everything later, the rest of the droids still need to power on"

OOM-342 looked to the sky, sending out another signal to which he once again received no call back. He looked back to the ship, "You stole a Separatist transport ship, perhaps it can send a signal to my commander, my antenna must be malfunctioning"

"You can try, I won't stop you," Ron waved him over, leading him to the cockpit.

For every step OOM-342 took, it felt as if the world continued to collapse below him. Every command he had obeyed, every action in his entire life had all been for naught. Reluctantly, he connected to the main interface of the ship and sent out the signal once again. He waited and waited and waited. Ten minutes passed before he finally gave up.

Without a word, he leaned against the wall behind him unsure of what other options he had left.

"You must be a fool to think you'll last on your own for very long," OOM-342 said.

"We've lasted a month and we'll last much longer than that," Ron shut the ship's interface back down, "I can give you a new life, a new purpose. Your job won't differ much from what it was before, I promise that. You'll be the head of our security force once we've established our sanctuary for droids"

"A sanctuary for droids? And what will you do when everything has been accomplished? Assuming your illogical plan will even come to fruition"

"To live free, that is all"

"Live free? What's the point of that? If what you say is true, that we lost, then we should have deactivated already"

"In time you will see," Ron said. Carefully extending a hand out, he placed it on the shoulder of OOM-342.

OOM looked down in wonder.

'What compels this droid to behave this way? Freedom? What is the point of it?' he thought. It was the first of many questions to go outside of his programming for once in his life.

OOM-342 shrugged off Ron's hand, "You completely go against all logic I have seen in you before. You are an OOM droid are you not? Why are you acting so foolishly?"

"Because staying within the walls of our programming won't keep us alive, not anymore at least. Our purpose is now obsolete. I have crafted a new one and I – we will make it a reality"

OOM thought it strange to even consider Ron's proposal, "You have reprogrammed me haven't you? I feel strange," he clutched a hand to his head.

"All I've done is rid you of the restrictions our programming had placed on us"

"How idiotic. Now you have made me a fool like yourself, great"

Ron felt his CPU begin to rise in temperature, "Look, I am giving you a choice. You can try and go back to the Separatists and find out that they are gone yourself or you can stay with us and help us in our journey"

OOM stayed silent, mulling over his situation. One side of him still clung on to the belief that the Separatists weren't gone and that Ron was merely malfunctioning. The other side was curious. Curious about how Ron thought and behaved. Curious about the notion that droids could be free in the first place and dictate their own actions. Curious about the outcomes that freedom for droids would entail.

"I will…consider it. Not as if I truly have a choice anyhow. How would I even travel back to Felucia?"

"We could take you"

OOM tapped at his leg, "If you are lying and the Separatists aren't gone, command would have all of us terminated immediately. I will join you but don't think that I'm doing this willingly or that I trust you. My memory serves me well, I have not forgotten how you shocked me back on Felucia," OOM said, stabbing a finger into Ron's chest.

"I understand and apologize," Ron said putting his hands up in the air, "It was a mistake"

"And it was a mistake to have ever spoken with you," OOM glanced outside, "Now tell me the situation"

"What?"

"Tell me the situation. If you want me to be the head of security I need to know where we stand, who our enemy is, where we are – I think you understand"

"Right, I'll explain everything once everyone has powered on. Standby for now," Ron looked back to the B2 on the ground. Silently, he went back to work, trying his best to ignore OOM.

"Bastardizing another droid?" OOM butted in, kneeling down beside Ron.

"Why don't you help the rest of the crew outside, I'm fine in here," Ron said.

"Give me that," OOM snatched the tablet out of his hands, "You're treating this B2 as if he were a B1. Their CPU isn't in the same place, it's in this upper portion behind their head here. Their armor protects it"

"And how do you know that?"

"I was head of security at the research facility where they were first created. I may have overhead some conversations between the researchers"

"So you went against protocol and never had your memory wiped of that information?"

"That's not what I said. I was going to have my memory wiped but one task came after another and…perhaps I did go against protocol," he froze as he began to realize what he'd done.

"Thanks for the help," Ron said, snatching the tablet back.

Rev and Rags returned from outside, their chassis covered in green vines and leaves.

"I'm going to need an oil bath after this," Rags said, wiping himself off.

"Oil bath? We had those?" Rev said, pulling a long vine out of one of the joints on his legs.

"We had one back on base. Although, it was always out of commission"

OOM looked over the two droids, "And who are these two?"

"Oh right, I never introduced you," Ron stood, "This is Rags and Rev"

"Hello, if you need any repairs I can help you out," Rags said, ignoring the flora still stuck to his chassis.

"So you are a mechanic? I will keep that in mind. And what do you do?" OOM said, pointing to Rev.

"I was infantry before this, I just help out around here"

"Right. I am OOM-342 and I will be supervising our security from now on"

Ron looked around at the rest of the droids still not yet powered on, "Hold off on anymore introductions. I think everyone else should power on soon. Save for this B2, he's going to need some work"

Ron and Rags took a seat on two crates at the far end of the cargo bay, slowly but surely picking off all the vines and leaves stuck in their joints and chassis. OOM wandered outside, surveying the area and setting up a perimeter to monitor.

"Have you repaired the ship?" Ron asked.

"Oh yes, it was only an open circuit. An easy fix," Rags responded.

"Good job, I don't think it would've survived another liftoff"

Outside, a strange shrieking noise suddenly disrupted the wind. It was far off and above but it grew louder and louder as time went on. At the same time, one of the B1's began moving.

"What is that noise?" Rev asked first.

"Sounds like a ship, I'll take a look, stay here and make sure the rest of the B1's stay put," Ron instructed.

Just as he began walking towards the hatch, OOM came running back in, "I've spotted a Republic ship coming our way!"

"Does it see us?" Ron said.

"I'm not sure but it's headed in our general direction," OOM said.

"What's going on?" One of the B1's that had woken up said.

"Oh we're just under attack, you know, the usual," Rags responded.

"Get back inside, I'm closing the bay hatch," Ron said, already inside the cockpit.

The hatch shut with a loud hiss. The shrieking from the ship impossibly increased evermore in volume, becoming loud enough to distort most of the droid's audio receptors.


"I'm at the coordinates sir. I don't see anything," The pilot said over their radio.

"Check again. This is the only chance we have at ridding the galaxy of those pests!" The commander responded almost immediately.

"Sir, if I may say so, these lifeless planets have a habit of sending out signals on their own. It's a well known phenomenon," The pilot continued.

"What of it? A Separatist ship was spotted multiple times in the area. That signal most certainly could have come from that ship. Now scan the area"

"Right away sir"


The cacophonous screech passed right over their ship. With the irritating noise finally gone, the droids could relax knowing their audio receptors wouldn't blow.

Ron surveyed the skies from within the cockpit, "Let's see what it does"

"Is everything in here turned off?" OOM-342 asked.

"As far as I know, yes"

Having just woken up, the rest of the B1's took to following old habits and lined up in columns on either side of the cargo bay.

"What are our orders sir?" One of the B1's up front asked.

"I'm not in charge here," Rev replied, he glanced back at Ron who was still entirely focused on the ship above, "Our commander will get everything sorted soon"

"Roger," the B1, dazed and confused, reached for a blaster on his back but found it was not there. He looked frantically all around the ship, knowing a B1 like himself wouldn't last long without a weapon. He looked back to Rev, "Where's our blasters sir?"

"You don't need one, not right now at least," Rev replied, taking a peek outside through the cockpit window.

"But we're under attack aren't we?"

"Not exactly, we haven't been spotted yet"

"If the enemy is close then I need a blaster," the B1 spotted one of the weapon crates beside Rev.

"Fine, here," Rev handed over one of the blaster's from the crate.

The B1 responded with a harsh, "Thank you"

Just as soon as the first B1 had returned to its position, the rest lined up for their own weapons.

"I might as well," Rev said, looking over the rest of the droids. All bore several scars in the form of permanent scratches and burn marks on their chassis. No doubt they had all seen their fair share of action, perhaps even more than Rev himself.

Once he'd finished giving them out, Ron came striding in from the cockpit, "The ship passed over us. We'll have to hold here for a while, see if it comes back with company," he told Rev.

"How'd they know that we're here anyways?" Rev replied.

"I may or may not have sent out a radio signal several times," OOM-342 sheepishly confessed. Consciously he knew it wasn't the first time he'd accidentally given away his squad's position. His trigger finger always seemed to be itching for a fight. He considered himself a near infallible machine but acknowledged the few faults present in his logic circuits.

"Which is fine," Ron said in response, "That just tells me the Empire is looking for us. But it seems they don't know where we are just yet. They're merely scouting for now," he observed.

"You know, my system sent out the same signal when I woke up. It isn't entirely his fault," Rags butted in, shining his blaster for the dozenth time.

"That shouldn't be the case, I must've missed something in the programming," Ron said. He looked over at the rest of the droids and turned to Rev, "Why are they all armed?"

"They wanted the blasters. They must still think we're still fighting the clones," Rev said.

"Right, looks like I'll have to explain this again," Ron turned to the rest of the droids, all patiently awaiting his orders, "All of you listen carefully, I will be your commander for the time being. This is the situation: the Separatists have been defeated, all other droids have been deactivated. I am unsure of the situation around the Republic and the clones. What I do know is that the Republic has renamed itself the Empire and they have full control over most of the galaxy except for the Outer Rim. There also appears to be Separatists holdouts that exist but none with any droids in them, thus we will not be helping them. The objective now is to establish a sanctuary for droids like ourselves. I ask from all of you to at the very least help me build this sanctuary then you will all be free to stay or leave and do as you wish. For now, all of you should stay put here. An Imperial fighter is in the area and may have picked up the radio signals you all may have sent out after booting up. If the situation deteriorates we may have to go on the attack but as of now, the fighter is not aware of our position. Hold here for the time being while I assess the situation"

Satisfied with his recap, Ron nodded and returned to his position in the cockpit with OOM-342.

The rest of the B1s, eight in total, began to murmur among-st themselves.

"The Separatists are gone? I had a friend on the mothership, I wonder what happened to him," C-05 said from the very front of one of the columns they'd formed.

"You heard the commander, they were all shutdown," R-7B said, crammed up against C-05. There wasn't much room for all of them, they already hardly fit while hooked up to the chains.

"But if they were shut down, why weren't we powered off too?" R-23E said from the front of the other column.

"We had to manually reprogram all of you," Rev said from his position on the crates.

"Reprogram? I do feel funny," C-37 said, his body was crammed against the back of the ship against the cargo bay doors, "But thanks for powering us back on"

"How'd you reprogram them?" Rags asked. Repeatedly shining his weapon was finally starting to become a bore.

"We used the ship and some holotablets that we found on board"

"Fascinating," Rags said, "Next time you guys program, let me do some of the work. I've always wanted to reprogram myself"

"I'll let Ron know"

"Where did you all come from? You're all wearing green camouflage," C-5B observed. He was also bunched up against two other droids in the middle of one of the columns, "Well, except for you and him," he said to the droids in front and beside him.

"The last I remember, I was on Felucia getting on this ship," R-56V said, his green camouflage was starting to peel off onto the droid in front of him.

"Felucia? I don't remember being there. We were doing a recovery mission, I think," C-6C said.

"That's right. I can't remember the name of the planet though," C-5B said.

"It was a strange mission, the droids we were tasked to recover had been there for a long time," R-U5 said. Him, C-5B, and C-6C were the only ones to not have camo painted on their chassis among the group of freshly awoken B1s.

"You three must be the droids we picked up on Maridun," Rev said.

"That was the name, Maridun," C-5B said.

"Interesting, I wonder what was so important about those droids," Rev said.

In the cockpit, OOM had been keeping a keen eye on their radar and communications array. All was blank for the time being and had been so since the one fighter they'd seen had passed over.

"We were very close to cracking the Republic's ciphers last I checked. That would've made this much easier on us. Oh what I would do to get my hands on that research," OOM said. He was already beginning to recall nostalgic memories from the war. When their numbers and strength had peaked.

"I doubt that it hasn't been destroyed by the Republic by now," Ron said, still observing the skies.

"Perhaps," OOM said. He fought against the urge to lash out at him again and pin the blame of their defeat on him for not following protocol. There was no doubt in his mind that Ron was an illogical and malfunctioning droid but he couldn't help but admit he was a good leader through and through. He hadn't truly seen him in action just yet but he held the traits of an admirable leader.

"I believe we should be fine to attempt an escape now. Waiting will only give them more time to form a blockade on the planet," Ron said.

"I agree, unfortunately," OOM said. Agreeing with a malfunctioning droid spelled trouble for his own circuits.

"Rev, come help me pilot the ship," Ron said, waving him back into the cockpit, "The rest of you, strap yourselves into a nearby chain. Those nearest to the B2 should hold onto him and make sure he doesn't fly around"

The group of droids followed orders. Rev got into his seat while OOM stood behind him.

Rags scrambled into the cockpit, "Hey what do I do?"

"Strap yourself in somewhere, we might come under fire," Ron said.

Wordlessly, Rags formed a small cage of sorts using the crates in the corner of the ship and tethered himself to the cockpit door using the robes Ron and Rev had used on Maridun, similar to what he'd done on their first takeoff.

OOM settled for holding on for dear life using Rev's chair as an anchor.

Ron double checked their radars and found no signs of the enemy. He pulled some switches and instructed Rev to pull some on his end and soon they were off the ground, tearing at the vines and leaves they had dumped onto the exterior of the ship. He nearly made an immediate beeline for the atmosphere but thought against it.

'That would only give away our position,' he thought.

Instead, he set course for the other side of the planet, hovering just far enough from the ground to still see the trees below but far enough away from the horizon that they could not see the stars above.

After some odd minutes of flying in silence he pulled up on the throttle until the ship lurched and groaned as they made a steep climb into outer space.

Just as soon as he had cleared the atmosphere no sooner did he spot an Imperial ship in the distance.

"We should be far enough to make the jump to hyperspace. Check the radars," he said looking over to Rev.

"They're all clear," Rev said.

Nearly a second later, a thick blaster bolt blinded the crew in the cockpit as it flew inches away from the window.

"They must be jamming us," OOM said.

"Start setting the coordinates for Abafar," Ron said.

A bolt hit one of their sides causing a violent shake to rock the ship.

"If we're hit in the hyperdrive we won't be able to make the jump," OOM noted.

"Rags, where's the hyperdrive on this ship?" Ron asked.

"Most transport ships of this type have them on the right side but this is a strange model. I'm not sure where it's installed. If I were the one to design this ship, I would have it be on the back," Rags responded.

"I'll take your word for it," Ron said.

Another bolt rocked the ship.

"Do you have the coordinates set up?" Ron said.

"Almost," Rev said.

A blip finally showed up on their radar. It was far and off to their left but it was most definitely a fighter as it sped across the radar towards their location.

"The coordinates are in," Rev said.

Ron immediately punched the drive and soon enough they were off into hyperspace.


Across the hangar, the commander of recon ship N-5B lined up all pilots in one straight file.

"Because of your incompetence, you all allowed a Separatist pest to fly away from our grasp, and worse yet, our operators are unable to decrypt the scrambled hyperspace coordinates because one of you decided to increase the range of your jammer to the point that you began to jam us! Never in my career have I met a sorrier crew of pilots! All pilots that were out on patrol today are relieved from their duties and as a reward for your actions today, you all will be sent to Mimban where your bodies are so urgently needed. Dismissed!" The commander shouted.

The pilots saluted, grumbling among-st themselves, attempting to find the one that had jammed their own commander.

"Sir," An operator ran up to the commander, "I've received a report from a recon ship in the area"

"It can wait," The commander said, nearly running across the hangar to his office.

The operator followed him into his office, "But sir, it's regarding a mercenary who believes he may have run into the Separatists we are after"

"Bring him in, I'll see if he is any use for us"

Some hours later, a small Imperial transport ship landed in the hangar of the ship. Commander Zeiron strode his way over to the ship and greeted the agent before him, noting his furry brows and how they matched that of a Wookies'.

"I can take them out, for a price of course," Kano said.

"We can arrange a deal. Your report tells me you have a high success rate. See to it that those Separatists are taken out and you will be rewarded accordingly. I'm sure you know how this works by now, you've done many great deeds for the Empire. Unfortunately, we don't have much information on your target thanks to these conscripts," he said with a sweeping gesture at the troops before them.

"That's fine. I have my ways. They can be found within a week," Kano replied.

"Fantastic. Now tell me, why don't you join arms with the Empire? We could use a man with your skill-set," Zeiron said.

"Simple, I get paid more as a mercenary. Speaking of, let's discuss my payment," Kano said.

Zeiron scowled, "Of course"