"Congratulations, again!" Mission chirped, her grin all but splitting her face in two as she threw her arms around Seth in a crushing hug the moment they returned to the group's ramshackle apartment. He winced as she aggravated his hastily-dressed wounds, but a short laugh escaped his lips nonetheless.

"Thanks," he said carefully, masking his discomfort. "I guess it's time to celebrate, then. Nerfburgers anyone?"

"No." Bastila's voice was firm and cutting as she interjected. "It's time to figure out a way off this planet."

Seth immediately snapped back into soldier mode, his expression serious. He acknowledged his commanding officer with a two-fingered salute, nodding in agreement. "Yes, ma'am. Any ideas, ma'am?"

Bastila's glance bounced from Seth to Carth and back again, brow furrowing. "You mean you don't even have a plan yet?" she asked incredulously. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Searching for you, ma'am," Seth explained politely, still ramrod straight.

Mission leaned against the wall casually, folding her arms as she observed Seth's change in demeanor and rolling her eyes. She briefly considered how she'd have responded to Bastila were she in Seth's shoes, and found a new respect for his composure alongside a bitter annoyance at military protocol. She hadn't seemed to see much of it between Seth and Carth, due to the casual nature of the relationship between the private and his captain. But this Jedi brought rank-and-file military superiority back into the equation, and Mission did not like it one bit.

"Well," Bastila said with a breath, "Now that I am once again in command of this mission, perhaps things will begin to run more smoothly."

"What did you have in mind?" Carth asked from his half-sitting position on the workbench.

Bastila hooked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, frowning in consideration. "Well, I don't have any sort of plan as of yet," she admitted, almost painfully, "but I trust the Force will reveal next steps to us."

Carth straightened at her response, frowning. "Hold on," he argued. "We can't just put our faith blindly in some Force that only one of us can exploit. We need to be able to rely on something more solid than that."

"Captain Onasi, do not forget that this is my mission," Bastila rebuked sternly. "I am your commanding officer, and I expect you trust that my decisions are made for the good of the mission."

"Ma'am," Seth interjected, "if you don't mind my pointing out, we've managed to make our way on this planet pretty successfully so far, and we didn't have to fall back on the Force at all."

The Jedi turned on Seth, a chastising glare painted across her features. "I do not remember asking your opinion, private," she told him, emphasizing his rank.

Seth promptly shut his mouth, his gaze falling to the ground. "Understood, ma'am."

Mission wondered as she stood silently against the wall if Bastila could feel the glare she was focusing on the back of the Jedi's head.

Carth shook his head in an obvious attempt to shake away the anger and remain level-headed in this conversation. "Bastila, I know you're new at this," he started, gently but sternly as Mission imagined a father might discipline his child, "but a commander doesn't order her troops around and rebuke them when things start going south. You should at least consider listening to the input of your men."

This seemed to get through to Bastila, her demeanor starting to soften. She sighed heavily. "I… I apologize, Carth," she said, as if the words were difficult to even muster the courage to say. Mission wondered if it was because she wasn't used to being wrong often, or if it was the fact that despite her military superiority over Carth she still had to rely on his wisdom in her youth. "The last few weeks have been very trying for me." She paused to look about the room for those whose opinions she hadn't heard yet. "Zaalbar, what are your thoughts?" she inquired when her gray eyes settled on the stoic Wookiee.

"[I don't know Taris well enough to provide any insight,]" he rumbled. "[Unless you need someone threatened, or a door kicked down, I'm not of much use.]"

Bastila gave him a curt nod before turning toward the young Twi'lek who, until this point, had been observing the conversation with little interest other than analysis of their new companion's character. "And you, Miss Vao?" the Jedi asked.

Having finally been called upon, Mission pushed off the wall, shrugging. "Don't look at me. Not even the Ebon Hawk can make it through the blockade without getting slagged, and that's the fastest ship in the sector." She flopped down onto the spare bunk, lekku splaying out beneath her. "I guess, to evaluate your needs here, you have to find a way to get your hands on a ship, and more importantly a way to slip past the orbital defenses without getting blasted into oblivion. Just to narrow down your objective from something as lofty as escape Taris."

Bastila's eyebrows rose slightly, and Mission had to fight back a smirk at the Jedi's apparent surprise that she had anything of value to offer to the conversation. "Agreed," she said slowly. "Very astute." Her eyes passed over Mission and landed yet again on Seth. "And you, Private Avery?"

He shrugged. "Honestly ma'am? We have our end goals in mind, just as we did when we were looking for you – to find a ship and a way past the quarantine. When Carth and I started on our search for you, we didn't lay out any sort of detailed plan. Things just fell into place and worked out much better than anything we could have ever tried to plan. Even made some new friends committed to the cause," he gestured at Mission and Zaalbar to illustrate his point.

She nodded. "Like I said earlier, I trust that the Force will reveal to us our next steps."

"Well," Carth interjected, clapping his hands together. "We all agree that our objectives are to find a ship and a way past the Sith defenses. Let's get to it, people."

"Yes, sir." Seth nodded.

"Private Avery?" He perked up at Bastila's prompt. "Would you excuse the Captain and I?"

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted and strode from the sparse apartment without another word, his movements practiced and crisp like a machine. Carth and Bastila began to speak in hushed tones that, from what Mission was able to pick up, seemed to be a discussion – or rather, an argument – over where to begin their efforts. Uninterested in listening to the two adults bicker, Mission levered off the bunk, heading off in the direction Seth had gone.

It took a few minutes of wandering the hallways of the apartment complex for Mission to realize that the boy had ventured outdoors, leaning against the railing of the platform just outside the front door of the complex. She silently joined him, resting her elbows against the railing and cupping her chin in her palms. Seth acknowledged her presence with the slightest of nods her way. His short brown hair fluttered in the breeze, catching the late afternoon sun as he faced the sea of unknown personified in the sprawl of buildings that made up the Upper City. She was content in the quiet, simply content in just existing together with this boy she'd grown so fond of. They remained that way, quietly enjoying one another's company, for what seemed like hours.

"You don't have to stay, you know." Seth's words finally broke the still waters of silence.

Mission, startled by his statement, pulled her eyes from the Tarisian skyline to meet his. "What?"

"You've already done what we agreed on, and more. You and Zaalbar got us into the Vulkar base and we got Bastila back. You can go back to your regular, normal life if you want. Back to doing whatever it was you did before you met us."

A few questions buzzed through Mission's mind in response to his sudden interest in her own plans for the future, but only one slipped through her lips. "What if I don't want to?"

"I mean... I don't know. Your choice, I suppose, but-"

"You want me to leave? Is that it?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Hell no," he insisted, turning to face her fully. "Honestly, your company is as much a breath of fresh air for me as it is vital to our operation here on Taris. But we're going to come to a point where Carth, Bastila and I have to board a ship and leave Taris, probably for good. You've spent your whole life here; I can't expect you to come with us. And the longer you stay to help us, the harder that goodbye's gonna be."

She shrugged. "You heard Kandon Ark back at the Vulkar base. I've been working for years to be invited to join the Hidden Beks, because it's the only place I've really felt like I could go, but I'll never belong there. It took being a part of something bigger - helping you guys - for me to realize that I have more options for my future than just the Beks. And I have more options than just Taris. It'll always be home, but it's about time I got out and saw the galaxy."

"What about your brother?"

Mission sighed, returning her gaze to the city's skyline. "Honestly Seth, I've gotten real tired of waiting around for Griff. I don't really know if he's coming back. For all I know, he and Lena are chasing spice along the Corellian Run."

"And Zaalbar?"

She chuckled. "Wookiee life-debt, remember? Wherever I go, he comes with."

"Well, can't say I'm disappointed to keep you around while I still can." Seth smiled, reaching his hand across the railing and hovering it above hers for a moment of hesitation before threading his fingers with hers gently. She felt her heartbeat pick up the pace just a bit as she tried to force the blush from her cheeks. "You're serious about this?" he asked solemnly. "You really wanna hop on a transport with us and escape to... wherever?"

She nodded, withdrawing her hand in fear of coating his in her own nervous sweat and instead choosing to grip the railing. "Until you all get called back to do whatever the Republic needs from you, yeah. At that point, maybe Big Z and I can start small, save up some money and start running the space lanes. Make a trip back here to Taris for a visit every once in a while."

He laughed. "Until my tour of duty's up, I've got an empty apartment back on Coruscant that needs looking after, if you and Zaalbar need a home base in between adventures. As long as you don't mind me stopping by every once in a while and crashing there while on leave."

Mission smiled. "I'd really like that."

Seth flashed another grin at her before turning to face the cityscape again, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. Mission couldn't help but smile herself, for the first time in her young life excited for what the future had in store for her.

In the days that followed, everyone spent most of their time outside the apartment complex in search of either a way past the quarantine or a ship to get them there. The only member of the group who decided to remain at their base was Zaalbar, who preferred to avoid the ostracism of the Upper City and stay indoors with the other illegal alien residents of the complex.

Seth and Bastila, who usually got back to the apartments before Carth and Mission, would often find the towering Wookiee hunched over some new piece of tech he'd built in an attempt to pass the time, using spare parts the group brought in from their daily searches. Sometimes it was a new type of grenade, or a modified blaster, but the group always found uses for the results of Zaalbar's mechanically-oriented pastime.

It was in the late afternoon of the fifth day in a row of fruitless searching that an opportunity finally presented itself. Seth leaned against the wall just outside their apartment, polishing his blaster meticulously while he waited.

"Commander Shan?" he called quietly, rubbing at a spot of tarnish along the barrel of the gun. "Are you coming, ma'am?"

"One moment, Private," came her muffled voice. "Have some patience."

He let out a quiet growl of frustration, keeping his voice low under his breath. "No can do, ma'am. Fresh out of patience for the week."

At that moment, Seth heard movement behind him - heavy footfalls approaching at a rapid pace. His hand tightened around his blaster as he turned about to face the newcomer.

A Twi'lek man ran up to him, stopping a few meters short and breathlessly waving for Seth to put his blaster away. Sensing no danger, the young man holstered it and glanced down at the flagging alien curiously.

"You..." the Twi'lek began before he was forced to take another gasp of air. He wiped droplets of sweat from his green-skinned forehead and composed himself for a moment before continuing. "You are the Taris Swoop Champion?"

"Who wants to know?" Seth asked warily, his hand still resting on his holstered blaster. He'd been approached several times since winning the race, often by swoop enthusiasts wanting his autoprint and occasionally by disgruntled fans of the sport who called him a fluke of a champion. He didn't know if this man belonged to the latter group or not.

The Twi'lek held up his hands. "I know what you're thinking; I'm just another crazy fan wanting an autoprint. Trust me, I'm not. I have a message from Canderous Ordo."

"Candy-who?"

"Can-der-ous Or-do," the Twi'lek laid out for him slowly. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you don't know who he is!"

Seth squared his shoulders defensively. "Well I haven't exactly met him."

"He's a Mandalorian mer-"

"A Mandalorian!" Seth exclaimed, and he silently cursed at himself for the nervous break in his voice.

The Twi'lek nodded solemnly. "Oh yes, and a very vicious one at that. And he works for Davik." He cocked his head to the side. "You do know who Davik is, don't you?"

Seth chuckled uneasily. "Oh yeah. Him, I've heard of. What does this Candy- Candari- Cano-" He gave up exasperatedly. "What does he want?"

"He didn't say, only said to meet him in the cantina a few blocks down. You know the place?" At Seth's affirming nod, the Twi'lek warned, "Given that he is a Mandalorian, and his connections to Davik-"

"I wouldn't want to keep him waiting," Seth finished for him. The Twi'lek looked pleased with his comprehension. "Thanks for the message," he said, tossing the man five credits. "You don't know where I live."

When he was sure that the Twi'lek had gone, Seth ducked back into the apartment.

"Commander Shan?" She glanced up at him, raising her eyebrows in permission to speak. "I've just received an invitation. It seems pretty promising, ma'am. Permission to go?"

"What sort of invitation, Private Avery?" Bastila asked, dubiously crossing her arms as if she suspected he was trying to sneak out to a clandestine party.

"I was just approached by a messenger working for one of Davik's men, ma'am. A Mandalorian mercenary."

"A Mandalorian?!" Carth exploded from behind Seth, who jumped in surprise at his commander's sudden appearance before stepping aside to let the man through the doorway. Zaalbar and Mission followed closely behind him, the latter playfully socking Seth in the arm as she passed.

"Yes, sir," Seth affirmed, rubbing his arm and sticking his tongue out at Mission while his commanding officer's back was turned. "I was just telling Commander Shan that it seems promising."

"How?" Anger flashed in Carth's whiskey-colored eyes as his fingers curled into a fist at his side. "How could going to meet with one of those brutes be promising?"

Seth hesitated in the face of Carth's reaction. "I'm not sure, sir. I just have a gut feeling, and I'm rarely wrong when I rely on my gut, sir."

"Like when you feel it's necessary to eat a third of our food?" Mission offered, her wit going unnoticed by the soldier and his officers.

Carth eyed Seth skeptically. "Well, I'm not for it."

"I'll agree that it's risky," Bastila ventured thoughtfully, "but if there is a chance that we might glean something beneficial from this, at this point I fear we must take that chance." The captain crossed his arms over his chest in mute disagreement, an action that did not go unnoticed by the lady Jedi. She turned toward Carth, hand on hip. "Since you feel so uneasy about this, perhaps you should stay here while Private Avery and I meet with this Mandalorian, whoever he is."

"Canderous Ordo," Seth told her.

"An Ordo?" Carth mouthed, more perturbed than ever.

Bastila tapped her fingers against her thigh in impatience. "It's settled, then. Carth will stay here with the others while Private Avery and I go find out what this Canderous wants."

"Fine by me, but don't make any rash decisions without bringing me into the loop," Carth ordered. "And get the hell out of there at the first sign of trouble."

"How will we be able to recognize him, ma'am?" Seth asked curiously. "Neither of us has seen him before."

"We'll find him, Private," she assured him. "Or perhaps he will find you."

"Somehow that doesn't comfort me."

Bastila ignored his quip, pulling on a long hooded cloak to help shield her face from unfriendly eyes and striding through the door of the apartment with a simple wave of her hand to beckon Seth to follow. He chuckled nervously, quickly donning his cargo vest and giving the others a short wave and salute before following his commander. By the time he'd closed the apartment door behind him, Bastila was already near the end of the hall, her dark cloak flapping behind her as she strode confidently forwards. He had to jog for a bit to catch up with her.

"Private Avery?" she asked when he finally fell into step next to her.

"Yes, ma'am? Something you want to talk about?"

A dark eyebrow rose when she looked at him, somewhat surprised at his astuteness. "I would. I'm curious about your presence at the swoop race. Thankful for it, don't get me wrong, but still curious. What exactly were you doing there?"

"Rescuing you, ma'am," he responded matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I'm well acquainted with your... rescue attempts," she said, as if slightly amused. "But it couldn't have been easy for you. I highly doubt there were flashing signs pointing you in my direction, yet somehow you managed to pinpoint my exact location within this vast city and ended up at the swoop race. You crash-landed in the Upper City, made your way to the lower levels of the city, determined I was a Vulkar prisoner, and found a way to help the Hidden Beks win the race, and became the Taris Swoop Champion to boot. That's quite the resume, and all at the age of seventeen."

"Sixteen, ma'am," he clarified.

"No difference. The point that I'm trying to make is that you, Seth Avery, are a very talented individual."

Seth couldn't suppress a grin at his commander's praise. "Thank you, ma'am. But I did have a good team alongside me."

She gave him a small smile, the first genuine one he'd seen since meeting her, and laughed. "While I appreciate your humility, Private, it's clear that you were the ringleader here, despite the fact that you were following a commanding officer. I've spoken to Carth. It was you who gained access to the Lower City, you who set up a meeting with the Hidden Beks to determine my location, you who remarkably won a race that no human has ever won in the history of the sport. A Jedi could have done such things easily by relying heavily on the Force, yet here you are, just a Private in the Republic Navy."

"With all due respect, ma'am, I think you're underestimating us non-Force users," he countered.

Tilting her head towards him, Bastila acknowledged his point. "Perhaps. But there are also some outside of our ranks that the Jedi Order consider to be 'Force Sensitive.' I have a feeling that you may operate under a degree of such sensitivity."

He stopped in his tracks. "Hold up," he said skeptically. "I can't use the Force!"

Coming to a halt several paces in front of him, Bastila peered back at him from under her hood, grey eyes almost luminescent against her shadowed face. She wrung her hands as she cast her gaze to the ground. "I'm... I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn. This is a matter strictly for the Jedi Council to resolve. Let us focus on our mission for now, and cast aside this distraction. If you wish, we may discuss it further once we've safely made our way off Taris."

As they began to walk again, Bastila a few paces ahead of him, Seth shook his head. "Cast aside this distraction, sure," he muttered under his breath. "Because I can do that when you drop the 'You can use the Force' bomb."

If Bastila heard him, she made no sign of it.

Mission sighed heavily as she sat on the end of the apartment's workbench, swinging her legs idly. Seth had departed with Bastila not fifteen minutes earlier, and she was already bored. Not that it was a foreign concept to her; Seth had been at Bastila's side since her arrival into their little group, often splitting off with her to do reconnaissance while Carth split off with Mission and Big Z stayed behind to hold down the fort. While she understood his admiration for his commanding officer, Mission couldn't help but feel ill at ease with all the time he spent with her.

It was not that she didn't like spending time with Zallbar and Carth. After all, Big Z was her best friend, and Carth had recently, in their time working together as a duo, stepped into a role of encouragement that reminded her of an older, more responsible Griff. But Seth was different in that he understood her. He'd lived her experiences. He knew what it was like to practically have been raised by street-smart gangsters, because he had been. He knew what it was like to wonder what his parents were like, because he'd never known his. Seth understood what it was like to be a teenager living in a war-torn galaxy because he was one.

And perhaps she just missed his camaraderie. Before Bastila had come, the two had usually passed the time between moments of action talking to each other, Seth often trying to induce a giggle with one of his cheesy jokes. But ever since the Jedi Commander had joined them, Seth hardly had any time to spend with her. He spent his time taking orders from and running errands for Bastila, hardly realizing that he'd seemingly become her personal slave just because of rank. Mission shook her head to herself. The Republic could send him to boot camp, give him a Private's insignia, shove a blaster in his hands and call him a soldier, but he still wasn't even a man yet. Not really.

"Bored?" Carth burst Mission's bubble of silent isolation and melancholy. He reclined on one of the apartment's two bunks, an eyebrow quirked at her as he made eye contact from across the room.

She shrugged. "I guess."

The Republic Captain sat up, brushing stubborn bangs from his eyes. "He sure livens things up, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," she replied, making a half-hearted attempt to keep her voice light and cheerful.

Studying a frayed point on his heavy pants, Carth didn't look up as he spoke again. "Bastila's way too old for him, Mission."

Her eyebrows shot sky-high at the statement. "W-what?"

"Seth's seven years younger than Bastila; she's too old for him. Well, at least until he's an adult, in which case I suppose it doesn't matter."

"And why the hell would I care about that?" she asked, a bit too defensively.

"I may be older than both of you and out of touch with how kids do things these days, but that doesn't make me stupid. I can see what's going on between you two."

Carth's words sent Mission's verbal composture careening off-balance. "Wh-... I-... We-..." She struggled to form words. "I-... I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Yes you do, Missy," Carth pressed. "It's not something to be afraid of. I was wondering myself how long it would take for something to develop between the two of you."

Blue cheeks darkened. "Me and Seth?!" Mission exclaimed incredulously. She couldn't believe her ears. "We're friends, not lovers!"

"Well, not yet at least," Carth muttered under his breath. Mission guessed he didn't mean to be heard, but her ears still caught the words. Her cheeks darkened even further.

"I'm fifteen, Carth! I wouldn't know what love was if it slapped me in the face."

"Well, it's a good thing, I can tell you that much."

"I don't care!" she squeaked, voice weak. "You said the fate of the galaxy is at stake with your mission, and you're here giving me advice on how to pursue a... a relationship-" the word came out of her mouth like a wholly foreign work, "-when I'm probably too young for one!"

"Mission Vao actually using her age as an excuse?" he chuckled. "You've said it yourself, you're no kid."

She tucked her legs up against herself defensively. "I know that!" she snapped. "But he'd also never see me that way, so your point is moot."

"Don't be so sure. You don't see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching."

A scowl wrinkled Mission's forehead. "And what makes you think you're suddenly a master matchmaker?"

"I'm not," he admitted, "but it doesn't really take a master in this case."

She sighed in exasperation and slumped her shoulders. "Well, he is nice. And funny. And rather cute..." Mission snapped her mouth shut as she realized that she was confessing these thoughts aloud. Frowning, she jabbed a finger at Carth. "And what makes you think I have any special feelings for him anyway?"

Carth just shook his head, hiding a smile.

"Hey, kid!"

Seth's head snapped about when he heard the gruff voice, spotting a tall, muscular man half-illuminated by the poor cantina light, sitting at a circular table near the wall. Realizing that Bastila had likely been right in her assumption that this Mandalorian would find him first, he touched the commander's arm to get her attention.

"I think he's our guy," he whispered in her ear, pointing him out.

Bastila nodded from under her hood. "Yes, I believe you're right. I hope he's not planned anything foolish." Her arm shifted under her cloak to where Seth knew she kept her lightsaber. Suddenly, the promise of Bastila's defense lifted the anxiety of meeting with this man right off his shoulders.

They approached him cautiously, hands straying close to weapons just in case they were needed. When they came to the man's table, Seth was able to make out more of his face and fought a wince of apprehension. He seemed larger than life up close, with scars crisscrossing his chiseled face and steely, shaded eyes glancing up at him beneath graying eyebrows.

The man took a thick cigar from between his teeth. "You Mike Fure?"

Seth was caught off guard for a moment as he remembered the identity he'd assumed as a swoop racer, but quickly recovered. "Yep."

"I see," he said curiously, rolling the cigar between his thumb and forefinger as Seth and Bastila pulled out seats across from him. "Now, how about your real name?"

"Excuse me?" Seth sputtered.

He laughed. "Kid, when you've been working with the scum of this galaxy as long as I have, you learn to pick up when a rookie is using an alias." Leaning back, he added as an afterthought, "You hesitated when I asked your name. There can't be any pause."

"I'll keep that in mind," Seth muttered through clenched teeth.

"Very good. Now, how about we start over. My name is Canderous of Clan Ordo, as I'm sure you know. And you are?"

Crossing his arms defiantly, Seth leaned back in his seat. "Seth Avery."

"Seth Avery," Canderous repeated, laughing a bit at Seth's forced compusure. "Oh, I'm gonna like you, kid."

Seth shifted uneasily. "Um. Thanks."

"Cut to the chase, why are we here?" Bastila stepped in, hijacking the conversation much to Seth's relief.

Canderous turned his gaze to Bastila, eyeing her up and down as if he'd only just noticed her. "First off, gorgeous, I never asked for a 'we.' I didn't think Avery would drag his mother along."

Seth expected Bastila to let Canderous have it. He was surprised when she didn't show any outward reaction, remaining cool under fire and living up to the widespread reputation of the Jedi knights. In fact, her voice was quite even as she responded, "I am not his mother."

Dismissing Bastila and turning back to Seth, Canderous continued, keeping his voice low enough to keep their conversation private from eavesdropping ears but just loud enough that the two didn't have to strain to hear him over the music. "Look, I know you've been poking around, searching for a way off planet. A lot of people have. And I've just about had enough of Taris to last a lifetime as well. So here's the thing - I want out, you want out, everybody wants out, right? The difference here is that I have a way to get my hands on a ship with plenty of room to spare in its cargo hold. I just need a little something in return."

"Like what?" Seth and Bastila asked in unison.

"Information retrieval. A job I think you're perfectly suited for. You see, no ship makes it past Taris' atmosphere without the Sith departure codes, and they're locked away in the military base. I figure if you're crazy enough to race the way you did, and you can handle yourself as well as you did in the brawl afterwards, breaking in there and snatching those codes should be a piece of cake."

"What?!" Seth squeaked.

"You heard me."

Holding up his hands, Seth shook his head vigorously. "No way. The Sith will outnumber us twenty to one!"

"Us? This is your end of the bargain. There won't be any 'us' involved. You get the codes, and I get you a ship. That's how this will work."

"How will you get a ship for us?" Bastila asked quizically.

"Nah ah," Canderous stonewalled. "Not yet. You get those codes first, and then I'll let you in on the details."

"But how are we going to get in?" Seth asked incredulously. "It's not like they're just going to let us walk in. And slicing that door would be nearly impossible."

"Nearly impossible," Canderous agreed. "But not impossible. Davik is having a droid made specifically for getting into that base. As top-of-the-line as utility droids can get. All you need to do is head over to Janice Nall's droid shop, tell her I sent you for T3-M4, and she'll sell you the droid."

"I didn't really get the chance to collect any winnings from the swoop race what with that brawl that broke out, so my wallet's a little thin," Seth admitted. "How much will this droid cost?"

Canderous shrugged. "Only about two thousand credits."

"Two bantha-spacing thousand?!" Seth shouted, causing several bar patrons to look their way.

The Mandalorian leaned forward, twisted the collar of Seth's jacket in his fist, and dragged the boy halfway across the table. "Shut up, di'kut!" Canderous snarled in his ear. "Sith hang out here, you know! I'll give you the money, but you had better come back with that droid, or the only way you leave this planet is in a body bag." He released his hold on Seth's jacket, and the boy scrambled back into his seat.

"I... uh..." Seth stuttered.

"It's a deal," Bastila agreed.

"Glad to hear it," Canderous said, friendly again. "When you have the codes, meet me in Javyar's Cantina in the Lower City. I'll be waiting."

The two stood, nodding at the Mandalorian before making their way towards the cantina's exit.

"Well," Bastila mused as they walked. "I'm glad we decided to move forward with your hunch, Private Avery. That went rather well, don't you think?"

Seth, still shaking from being hauled across a cantina table by a feared mercenary, merely nodded. He hadn't soiled himself in the process, and that was about as well as he could have imagined the conversation turning out. "Yep," he said with a nervous laugh. "Went great."