This job had better be worth my time.

The dark-clad assassin kept his gaze focused on his starfighter's controls as he neared the Kaminoan facility. When Third Brother had first read the report, he had felt his bones tingle in anticipation. A hunter without prey is never a good thing, especially with so many Jedi who escaped from the purge. As a former Jedi himself, he considered it ironic that he was aiding in the hunt for the Order's remnants.

The last Jedi he came across had slipped away from his grasp. Her short, dark hair and her scared eyes briefly appeared in Third Brother's mind, and he tightened his grip around the controls. Out of all the prey he'd hunted in the few months since the Clone Wars ended, Harlow Thornton had proved to be the most challenging. He had insisted on hunting her, of course, insisted on making her feel what he felt. He shook the thoughts from his mind as he steered the ship into the hangar.

Two figures waited for the Inquisitor as he hopped out of his personalized starfighter. One of them, he knew, was Kaminoan doctor Ren Sai, the cloner who sent out the report to begin with. The second figure, a clone officer, stood at attention by Ren Sai's side, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down at the Jedi hunter's presence. Third Brother couldn't help but take pity on him. It was no surprise that most troopers would cower before a member of the Inquisitorius.

"Welcome," the Kaminoan dully greeted as he approached the Jedi hunter. "Tell me, what news does the Imperial Security Bureau bring here?"

"I was actually told you have news for me," Third Brother replied, his voice sounding synthetic through the metallic helmet he wore. "The incident you mentioned. Tell me what you know."

Ren Sai narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. "I am sorry to admit that I was expecting the Imperial Security Bureau. I find it odd of them to send one of your cult members in their place," he sneered, arms crossed over his chest.

Third Brother could feel his blood begin to boil. Given the circumstances, the Inquisitor had just as much authority as the ISB, if not more so. Like hell I'm going to be talked down to like a lap dog. "Funny," he snapped back, inwardly smirking as the Kaminoan's posture shrunk. "I find it odd that a renegade clone received a distress signal from a Jedi, and decided to leave his post to find her. That is how your report described it, is it not?"

"If I may, sir," the clone stepped forward, his confident voice fighting off the physical signs of fear. "I was the one who filed the report. I'm also the rogue clone's training instructor. Every detail in that report is accurate."

"Identify yourself."

"CT-3558. Call me Sawyer."

"Sergeant!" Ren Sai snapped, striding over to where the clone stood. "When I suggested calling in help, this," he continued, pointed toward the Inquisitor, "is not what I meant."

"I sent the report to the ISB, just like you asked me to," Sawyer defended.

"Who, in turn, sent it to me," Third Brother added, stepping between the Kaminoan and the clone. "The moment a Jedi is involved, any ISB jurisdiction practically goes out the window. The ISB is busy enough cracking down on any remaining Separatist holdouts and local uprisings. They don't have the time or the skills to hunt Jedi. That's why I'm here."

The Kaminoan kept his lips pursed, eyes narrowed at the polished durasteel on the hunter's helmet.

Glad to know the cloners won't be putting any toes out of line. Third Brother turned to face Sawyer once more. "I'm going to need you work with me here, trooper."

"What do you need, sir?" Sawyer asked, standing at attention.

"Everything you know about this renegade clone," the Jedi hunter said. "His identification number, strengths and weaknesses, the class of ship he stole, which direction he last travelled in. The more I know about him, the better. I also will need the name of the Jedi he's looking for."

"The cadet you're looking for is CT-4901, aka Cooper. He stole an ARC-170 fighter. The Jedi he's looking for is named Harlow Thornton. I can also send you Cooper's training file, so you can review his…I hesitate to use the word, 'skills,' sir. He still has a lot to learn."

"And his location?"

Sawyer held up a couple of small devices. "I've got that covered as well, sir," he affirmed, handing the devices to the Inquisitor.

Third Brother smirked beneath the helmet. A surgically implanted tracking beacon. And an extra beacon on the starfighter. Clever, for a clone. He'd make a fine Stormtrooper, no doubt. "Thank you for your cooperation, Sergeant." The Jedi hunter turned to leave, instinctively suppressing the excitement in his bones. After spending so long desiring a confrontation with Thornton, he now had the lead he needed to make that desire a reality. Finally. Finally I can put an end to everything that's been eating me up inside.

The Kaminoan's smooth voice stopped the hunter dead in his tracks. "I sure as hell hope the ISB receives full authorization to join you on your pathetic witch hunt," Ren Sai rudely called out.

The Inquisitor's instincts took over faster than he could control them, his hand curling as he imagined it tightening around the Kaminoan's slender throat. He relished in it all. He relished in the gasps and the subtle thud as Ren Sai unceremoniously collapsed, straining to get a breath in. He relished in the fear radiating off of the cloner's form as the scientist suddenly realized how utterly insignificant he truly was.

"Stop! Sir, please, release him!"

Third Brother let out an annoyed sigh and reluctantly obliged the clone's request. I've no intention to kill the cloner…yet. `Immediately, Ren Sai's gasps turned to wheezes, which turned to coughs as the Kaminoan gradually caught his breath.

"If I wanted your kriffing opinion about how to do my job, cloner, I would've asked for it," Third Brother growled, craning his neck just enough so he was certain the Kaminoan could feel the rage in his superior's eyes. "Stay out of my way. There are other servants of the Emperor who aren't as merciful as I am."

With that, the Inquisitor continued toward his ship. I can resolve my…issues with the Jedi once I find her. But first, I've got prey to hunt.

The cargo pants felt baggy against Cooper's legs. The dark jacket did a decent job of covering up his torso, but still left the green undershirt exposed in areas around his collarbone. This looks and feels entirely different from what I'm used to. But it'll have to do. It's not like I have many other options that fit.

Cooper took a deep breath, and trotted down to the kitchen, where he found Silas pacing around the room, waiting for him. A grin crept up on the Tethan's face as he took a look at the clone's new outfit.

"Well, I'll be damned," Silas admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his head. "You look just like him. To be honest, it's a bit awkward, seeing you in my son's clothes."

"If it helps, I feel as awkward as you do," Cooper responded, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. "So, where are we going?"

"Follow me."

The clone obeyed, strolling behind the mechanic towards the couple's landspeeder. "What specific part did you say you needed, again?" Silas curiously asked, climbing into the pilot's seat.

"A stabilizer," Cooper replied as he climbed in beside the Tethan. "It's for the ship's right wing, but I doubt it'll be easy to come by. Only Imperial ships are using the kind of stabilizer we're gonna need."

"I know a place that deals in some, uh, uncommon ship parts. We get in, we get what we need, and we get out. This city isn't a place you want to get lost in. Trust me on that."

Cooper nodded his head in understanding. He'd only heard stories from his older brothers about the shady dealings on worlds like Nar Shaddaa. He had no intention of finding out if the stories were true.

Silas pressed down on the accelerator, and the landspeeder zoomed forward, nearly pinning the two occupants to their seats. The rocky landscape zoomed past Cooper's eyes as they strained to take in as much detail as possible. He couldn't form a straight thought as to how much the reality of the outside left him in awe. The buildings in the city offered a stark contrast to the mountains Cooper had gotten used to seeing. People crowded the streets, going about their business as the landspeeder flew past them.

The landspeeder eventually slowed to a standstill. "Here we are," Silas announced, hopping out of the vehicle. Cooper hopped out soon after. "I stop by here a lot," the Tethan continued, pointing to the shop in front of them. "The shopkeeper even knows me by name. We'll be in and out of here before you know it, kid."

"I hope you're right," Cooper replied, trying his best to keep calm. As he gazed around at the civilians going to and from their destinations, he couldn't help but let a sense of concern wash over him. No one spoke to each other. If anyone did look at the clone, they quickly turned their heads away, as if a single glance would kill them. The people simply kept their heads down as they walked. Are these people afraid of something? Are they afraid of me? Cooper had heard stories of people who disregarded or even hated the clones, but he had simply brushed them off at the time. He didn't think those stories were real, and he hoped that wasn't why the civilians seemed to be avoiding him.

The electronic bell rang as the two entered the shop. Behind the counter stood a Rodian around Silas' age. The shopkeeper's black eyes lit up as they landed on Silas. "Morning, Silas. What can I do for you?" the shopkeeper generously asked, leaning on the front counter.

"We're looking to find a right wing stabilizer for this young fella here," Silas answered, gesturing toward Cooper with his thumb. "He crashed his ship earlier this morning. We're trying to fix it up and send him on his way."

"I see," the shopkeeper replied, getting up from his chair.

"Cooper," Silas turned to the clone, "why don't you go with him? Maybe you can help find the part you need."

"Sure," the clone obeyed, following the shopkeeper as he neared the rear of the store. The Rodian climbed up onto a nearby ladder, his fingers latching onto the shelves. Each shelf was packed with spare ship parts, some from the Republic Army, others from random civilian vehicles. Cooper let out a chuckle as he even spotted a few Separatist droid parts among the piles. Wow. Silas wasn't kidding when he said this shop had everything.

"Let's see," the shopkeeper said, eyes scanning the shelves' contents. "What kind of ship did you crash, kiddo?"

"It's an ARC-170 fighter. I thought it'd be nice to take it for a joyride. Turns out it wasn't." Granted, the teen had been fleeing from his own brothers when he took the ship for a "joyride," but the end result was still the same. Guess I see now why younglings shouldn't be piloting these things.

"You're kidding me," the Rodian amusingly scoffed, eyes glancing toward Cooper as his hands remained focused on searching the shelves. "Well, you're lucky you didn't get hurt. Aren't those starfighters restricted to the military?"

"I…I found it in some old junkyard. I guess the stabilizer's the reason the military left it to rot in the first place." The lie, convincing as it was, still tasted like mud on Cooper's tongue. Not like I had a choice. What other explanation could I give? That I ran off because my brothers tried to kill me? I'm sure that'd go over real well.

"Aha!"

The shopkeeper's voice snapped Cooper out of his thoughts. He turned toward the older man. A lengthy, metallic rod rested upon the worker's shoulders. "Found it," he confidently announced. "One right wing stabilizer. Let me go and get this bagged up for ya."

With that, the older gentleman strolled back up to the front counter, with Cooper close behind. The boy quickly found Silas at the front counter, counting a pile of credits to give to the shopkeeper.

"Okay, what do I owe you?" the mechanic asked.

"Silas!"

The Tethan and the clone both turned to the source of the new voice. The Weequay waltzed toward the two, grinning from ear to ear. A jagged scar ran down the left side of his face, just barely sparing his eye along the way. Smaller scars lined his hands, and Cooper guessed even more were hidden beneath the pitch-black jacket and the bandana around the Weequay's neck. "Just the lucky man I wanted to see. What'cha been up to?"

"Let me guess: you need another payment from me, Taddeo?" Silas grumbled, not bothering to look the newcomer in the eye.

Taddeo's amber eyes, similar to Cooper's, lit up with bewilderment. "Come on, Silas. I just want to wish you a good day."

"Uh huh. Last I checked, when you're wishing me a good day, it means you need something from me. So what is it?"

"Fine," Taddeo relented, the grin faltering but never fully disappearing. "My boys will need some more credits soon. They're planning on getting some supplies from some smugglers off world—"

"Ah ah ah!" Silas interrupted, turning to face the Weequay. "I'm a stop you right there. We just paid your crew a month ago. 5,000 credits. You expect that much every couple months, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I sure don't expect the Imps up my ass. We normally meet these smuggler friends of mine on Corellia. The Empire's cracked down on that world, hard. There's a chance my crew will get caught, and they'll need money to bail out. So, are we gonna go chat or what?"

"I don't think you understand our situation right now. It goes something like this," Silas wearily explained, taking a dramatic breath before continuing. "I'm. Busy. You can't expect us to always cough up credits whenever you feel like asking. It's unrealistic, and it stresses me and my wife out."

To the surprise of both Silas and Cooper, Taddeo began to laugh. The laughter echoed off the walls of the shop, and the clone couldn't help but cast an annoyed glare toward the pirate. The boy had heard stories of pirates, of how they utterly sacked what they conquered, of how they caused chaos to both the Republic and the Separatists simply because they could. Given Taddeo's attempts to intimidate Silas, Cooper could guess that the pirates here had already intimidated everyone else. The shopkeeper, meanwhile, kept his gaze lowered to the counter, keeping his lips shut in an attempt to avoid the scene playing out in front of him.

"Really now?" Taddeo hollered, his voice mixing with his laughter. "I didn't think she could get stressed out from taking away your stress, if you catch my drift."

Cooper's eyes widened at the demeaning statement, his hands clenching into fists no matter how much he tried to control his anger. He was young, but he certainly wasn't stupid. He'd only heard such derogatory comments from the bounty hunters training the older clones. When asking Sawyer about them, the sergeant had bluntly told the cadet that some questions just weren't worth answering.

Judging from the rapidly growing scowl on his face, Silas looked just as irritated by the insult, if not more so. "Say something like that, again. I dare you," he threateningly growled.

"And what? You'll throw a punch at me or something?" Taddeo shot back, looking to size up the Tethan. Silas cautiously stepped backward, his scowl unwavering. The pirate smirked. "I thought not. Now, how about we go find a place to talk, and just work things out? I ain't got all day."

Up until now, Cooper hadn't thought about stepping in. But judging from the situation, neither the pirate nor the mechanic looked like backing off any time soon. I'd rather things not get violent. "Silas, c'mon," the clone suggested, grabbing ahold of his companion's arm. "We got the parts, let's just get out of here."

The Tethan craned his neck, catching the wary look in the teen's eyes. "Fine." He turned back to the pirate. "Look, Taddeo, if you're that desperate for another payment, you know where we live. Hell, I'll even tell Lyra to leave the door unlocked. But I really need to go."

"I think you should just cooperate," Taddeo said. "Your buddy Torvald didn't cooperate, and look where that got him. So, are you going to come along, or not?"

Cooper rolled his eyes, gathering up as much courage as humanely possible, before turning to face the Weequay. I think I've had enough of this guy's attitude. "Did you not hear him the first time?" the clone bluntly retorted, standing between Taddeo and Silas. "Back off."

Taddeo's reaction was slow at first. The Weequay's face contorted as if the teen had just called him every dirty name in the book. His surprise quickly morphed into irritation as he peeled back part of his jacket, revealing the LL-30 blaster pistol hidden underneath. The clone kept his feet planted to the floor, trying his best to ignore his heart's jackhammering at the sight of the blaster.

"Who in the hell are you telling to back off, boy?!" Taddeo spat, his eyes glaring at Cooper with a fury the clone thought could only be found in the late General Grievous. "Do me a favor and shut your damn yap! You're lucky I don't burn a hole in you, and send you back to that bitch without a kriffing tongue!"

Silas reacted faster than Cooper could process. It took a fraction of a second for the mechanic to drive his fist forward, catching the Weequay straight in the nose and causing him to fall over.

"Listen here, you piece of sithspit," Silas growled, glowering down at the skinnier pirate. "First off, this young man has nothing to do with our little negotiation, so you might as well leave him alone. Secondly, we are trying the best we can to keep up with your kriffing deal. So unless I'm dead certain that I have enough to pay you, I don't wanna hear it! And lastly, if you ever threaten or speak about my wife in such a horrid, cruel manner again, I won't hesitate to cut off your equipment and send that to your pathetic crew as payment, instead! Am! I! Clear?!"

The unexpected outburst caused both Taddeo and Cooper to flinch. "All right, all right," Taddeo hastily defended, his voice taking on a hint of anger, not nearly enough to match Silas' rage. He clutched his nose with both hands as he struggled to stand, blood seeping out from in between his fingers. "Like it or not, we still need those credits. Guess you can't expect to be treated with respect around here these days—"

"We've given your gang respect for years, Taddeo! Not my fault you always toss it down the drain," Silas interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest. Cooper knew that stance. It was the same stubborn stance the Tethan had taken when he had found the clone in the shed. The mechanic turned back to the shopkeeper, pulling a handful of credits out of his pocket and placing them on the counter.

With his gaze fixed on his companion, Cooper could easily ignore Taddeo slipping out the door. The clone wished, however, that he could ignore the pirate's parting words.

"You've got some big balls there, the both of ya!" the Weequay roared, still clutching his bloody nose. "You haven't heard the last of this!"

A glint of fear shone in the shopkeeper's eyes as they turned to face Silas. The lack of Taddeo's presence finally gave the worker the strength to speak. "That was dumb, Silas. Taddeo isn't going to easily forget something like this."

"Like what? My calling him out on his bantha fodder?" Silas countered, his voice still carrying trace amounts of anger from his outburst. He slung the carefully wrapped stabilizer parts over his shoulder. "If that's the case, I'll gladly tell him where he can shove it. C'mon, Cooper."

The Tethan waltzed out of the shop, with Cooper following close behind. They loaded the spare parts in the back of the landspeeder. Both people remained silent as they climbed into the vehicle. The rogue clone stole a glance at Silas, just barely catching the irritation in the green irises as the two began the long drive back home. Okay, note to self. Do not piss off Silas.

"Soooo," Cooper drawled out, his uncertainty causing him to pause before he spoke again. "What exactly was up with that—"

"Don't!" Silas snapped, his hands clutching the steering controls in a death grip. "Just don't."

The clone clamped his mouth shut, and kept his gaze focused on the bustling streets as they zoomed past. Though he wouldn't actually admit it, Cooper couldn't distract his thoughts from that pirate, Taddeo. It's like I can't even think about him without… Goosebumps appeared on the teen's skin at the thought of the pirate's name. Dammit.

Cooper nearly jumped out of his seat when Silas broke the awkward silence. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, it's just…about earlier…" The youngster trailed off, shivers crawling up his back in an attempt to keep him from continuing.

"You don't have to say any more," the Tethan assured, his tone still laced with the irritation his eyes currently showed. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, I really am. I can turn the other cheek to that bastard sometimes, but when he goes after my wife like that—I mean, he nearly pulled a kriffing blaster on you, Cooper!"

"I've had blasters pointed at me before, Silas," Cooper calmly reassured the mechanic. It was true. The former cadet had long since lost count of the times he'd been shot at by droids during training exercises. "It's okay. I just don't want you getting hurt, that's all. That guy did not look friendly, believe me!"

"Kid, Lyra and I can handle ourselves pretty well," Silas said. "Taddeo's just somebody with an ego who thinks he can easily scare people."

"You don't think we'll see him again, do you?"

"Trust me, Cooper. You won't," Silas said, eyes turning to the boy for the first time since the ride back to the house began. "Don't let what other people say get to you. I get it. Words can hurt a lot, but they can't hurt you if you refuse to listen. Got it?"

"I understand," the clone replied, turning to gaze out the window and enjoy the rest of the ride back to Silas' house.