Session export: Sundari Station Hangout

Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette Eternal Zsoldos System

The Dathomirian-Mandalorian Regent of the Brotherhood and his furry colleague, the Fist of the Brotherhood Rajhin Cindertail both stared quietly out of the main viewport from the helm of the corvette-yacht’s bridge as Clan Vizsla’s Sundari Station came into view upon hyperspace exit. The towering feline stood with his spear resting against the floor and secured with one hand, while the heavily beskar-armoured Equite had his arms folded over his chest. Both J'zargo and H.A.L. buzzed around above their heads, completing whatever computations, analysis, or tasks were required of them by their masters. The two Ascendant Drones were incredibly familiar with each other, their masters working together often to ensure the Brotherhood and Arx’s security.

The two councillors spoke of recent happenings during the journey as they often did, and about the Council’s plans to deal with the troublesome Children of Mortis. During the docking procedure with Sundari they stood by while the Exchange officers and technicians did their job, awaiting the moment when they could depart. Bes'uliik hadn’t visited the system since his post-war meeting with the Consul, and wished to see how things were faring with their agreement. Letting off some steam around fellow Mando'ade and the Brotherhood’s regular membership was going to be a nice change of pace, too.

Cindertail had chosen to come along for the sake of making additional connections with the Vizslans, though he often opted to lead the Regent’s security details himself during business adventures.

Following docking with Sundari, Zxyl and Rajhin left the Eternal in the capable hands of the Exchange staff aboard and departed, also making his way to The Mortuary for a drink. DT-9452 and Krr'yarl opted to remain onboard, and Ilvicar was off on a mission somewhere. Some nodded at the exquisitely armored Mandalorian as he passed.

<@185939710005215232>

Kanal sat on the ramp of his Razor Crest cleaning his weapon as he watched members of the Council walk by. They were heading into the station. He thought that they would most likely hit the watering hole first after their long journey. The Mortuary, while perhaps named improperly, was one of the best places to get a drink outside of Viz Daddies. He looked back down to his Beskar spear and continued to clean it up from the most recent conflicts.

Gui Sol still felt out of place in a world dominated by Mandalorians. Though, since backing away from the Order for the sake of sanity. Seeing a golden opportunity to turn a profit was always something he gravitated towards. Vizslans admired this about him and they were always appreciative to have an assortment of droids available for inventory replenishment. Still, a former Jedi, while Gui had let that part of himself fade, echoes of his past still whispered to him through the trinkets he chose to wear. Even wielding his lightsaber conjured the faces of those he had slain in the name of peace and was the reason he chose only to call to it in times of dire need.

Peddling some droids in the Starport, Gui motioned for Barry, his refurbished and historically loyal PIT droid to pack up as the Kiffar counted his credits. He couldn’t help but notice the variety of people and aliens boarding Sundari Station. Some familiar, some not so much.

The Promenade was everything its name suggested: a bustling public area filled with clientele and a variety of shops. The security was high, naturally, but it was also a good place to get lost in.

Thane wasn’t looking to get lost.

No, he was merely trying to get some air. A return to something familiar. Long had he toiled with others to carve out a new space within the Brotherhood that was far from the clawing hands of the Council and even the other Clans. And how’d that work out for him?

A long stint on the Council itself and now he stood separate from it all as the beating heart at the center of the Brotherhood’s own system of justice. Yet, it was quiet of late. There was peace, freedom, justice, and security in his Chamber. No, the threats came from outside. The rabble. So many Children and Collective vying for attention. Plans within plans and spiraling failures. Another offensive against the Clans and a glaring failure by the Council to protect them.

He had been blunt enough in his assessment and now? Now, Thane found himself on Sundari Station walking through the throng of so many lives just passing by. His black-gold gaze fell upon the beaming sign of The Mortuary. Well, mostly beaming. A few of the characters kept flickering with an accompanying buzzing drone, clinging to flashes of life before fading once more.

Tuuka walked into The Mortuary and approached the bar. Currently it was empty of patrons, only staff present getting ready for the rush. Tuuka pushed a thumb underneath the cheek plate of his helmet, releasing the neck seal with a hiss. His hazel eyes seemed to get an extra sparkle from the dive bar lighting, the bartender noticed.

“What can I get you honey?” The older woman asked flirtatiously.

The Mandalorian set his helmet down on the grimy bar, which must’ve been wiped off with a rag that was just as dirty. “Open up a tab for me. I’ll have a Corellian Beer, and one for whoever walks through the door next.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Any food for you?”

Tuuka could feel his stomach start to growl, but looking at the overall condition of the bar, he decided against getting food unless he wanted to be hospitalized and have his insides replaced with cybernetics. “Just the drink.” He said as he winked.

The Sentinel Class Landing Craft gently made its approach towards Sundari Station. Within it was one individual one might not expect to see this far out into Wild Space. The Taldryan Republic Supreme Chancellor, Appius Wight.

Alas, Appius had a personal history with Clan Vizsla. They were his introduction to the Brotherhood. They found him, saved him, fed him, trained him, treated him like a brother, trusted him in leadership, only to turn tail and leave when he had a hard disagreement with Declan Roark.

“I don’t like this.”

Darrio was adamant on coming, if only to make sure his little brother didn’t do something stupid. Appius wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that he cared, or insulted that he thought he could be that reckless.

“It’ll be fine. Roark isn’t in charge now, and I’ve worked with Korvis a couple of times now. We have an understanding,” Appius shot Darrio his trademark smile.

“The more you say that, the less I believe you. You’re nervous as hell.”

“What? Me?” Appius feigned ignorance. “I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous? Maybe you are nervous.”

Darrio raised a brow and glared hard at Appius.

“Look,” Appius said. “Vizsla have been looking for the Mortis spy in their ranks, and were willing to pay good money for him. We found him, we take him to them, we offer them for free as a token of goodwill and…”

“Improve relations with Vizsla. Yeah, yrah, I get it. Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

Murmuring was heard from behind them.

“Shut the Hell up if you know what’s good for you!” Darrio said before turning his attention back to Appius.

“What makes you think I’d do anything stupid?” Appius asked.

“One word: Tatooine.”

Appius raised a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but no words formed. Darrio got him there.

“That was one time,” Appius finally said.

“And it’ll be one time they all remember.”

Suddenly, the intercom blared within the cabin.

“This is Sundari Station, state your name and intention to board.”

“Appius Wight. I wish for an audience with Korvis. I have acquired the asset Vizsla has been searching for.”

<@583854106599489557>

Rajhin lingered near the docking port as Zxyl went about his business. The Togorian made it a point to coordinate with the station’s chief of security, a bulky Trandoshian named Tranok. Had the chief not been exceptionally busy with the influx of visitors to the station Rajhin might have tried to secure a friendly unarmed bout with him.

“Will that be all?” The Trandoshian hissed as Rajhin examined a datapad readout of the station’s security precautions.

The Fist handed the datapad back to its owner. “Very thorough, if your security forces require any assistance you have my com frequency.”

“Right,” The Security Chief replied curtly as he rushed off to put out the next fire.

Rajhin found himself alone with his often scheming droid J’zargo who hovered side to side almost as if it couldn’t wait to examine the shops of the promenade.

“My lord, I will do a sweep of the shops, just to be safe.”

The Togorian gave a warning growl, “If you leave this station with anything you did not pay for I will have Zyxl fashion you into an overpowered waste processor.”

The droid hovered in a moment of pregnant silence before replying, “I would never dream of causing you trouble my lord.”

Satisfied, Rajhin made his way along the promenade stopping to peruse the wares of Wagglehorn’s Weapons Emporium. A few patrons stared awkwardly as he moved about the shop, though it wasn’t clear if any recognized him as the Fist or they just hadn’t seen a Togorian before.

The ramp to the shuttle lowered, and Korvis folded his arms, waiting in anticipation.

An ear-piercing wail suddenly sailed out of the ship, soaring over the ramp as the body of Gluddo, the Mortis spy, crashed at his feet, stopping inches from touching Korvis’ boots.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you!? You had to make a flashy entrance! Look at me, I’m Appius and I’m a Space Wizard with shit for brains!”

“I’m making a good first impression! You watch, Darrio. Korvis will love that!”

Korvis watched the two Mandalorians descend the ramp, bickering amongst each other. The first, in red, he recognised as the Taldryan Consul thanks to everything in Dandoran and Canto Bight. The second, the one in blue and slightly more slender he didn’t recognise. He kept his guard up, just in case.

“Korvis!” Appius finally took note of him. “Good to see you again!”

Appius held out his right hand, over the fallen, twitching body of the Mortis spy at Korvis’ feet.

The Dathomirian Regent made his through Sundari Station from the docking bays to the facility’s promenade with H.A.L., trailing along a meter or so behind him, having departed from the Fist of the Brotherhood to do his own thing for the time being. No doubt they’d be reunited soon enough anyway. His bulky, personally-forged unique Beskar armor clinked with his steps as his boots clicked quietly against the floor. This was Bes'uliik’s first trip to the station, and he was eager to see what the hub-bub was all about with Clan Vizsla.

He had entered the promenade shortly before the Fist arrived, peering inquisitively into a few of the shops as he passed through to the main attraction (in his opinion): The Mortuary. The Regent strolled right by his former superior and current Justicar into the station tavern, grabbing any available table after ordering a drink from the establishment’s bartender. The Mandalorian looked about, ascertaining how many other people were in the bar and if he already had the pleasure or displeasure of knowing them. Rapture, his primarily black Amban Sniper Rifle with a wooden stock and silver forked tip rested up against the table.

Socorra walked backwards on the promenade as she addressed the blind Miraluka “accompanying” her.

“Kaled, bad baaad idea following me. Bad Kaled. But you here so, must be on best behavior,” she scolded, with the native Socorran accent over-enunciating every syllable. The Human’s single intense arctic eye stared hard at the youth, as if he could see her doing it. “No messing about. You are representative and just one wrong move could jeopardize–”

She paused and snickered at Kaled’s absolutely studious and all-too-serious reaction. “Ha, no. Aunty here to get karked up and have fun. Stowaway better keep up! Double time!”

With a newfound spring in her combat boots Socorra spun back around, lightly whipping her nephew in the face with her long raven mane. She was an ambitious woman on a mission, passing shops and people without so much as a glance and marching right into the watering hole like it owed her booze. Her burn-scarred hand slammed down onto the bar counter with a cred stick under it.

“Raava. Start a tab and keep it flowin’. Add a tip for yourself. Oh, and whatever he wants.“ She gestured to Kaled and finally peered around the bar.

Caleb Wild’en strode along the promenade, his gait was unhurried yet measured, so there was little doubt the Togorian was on Sundari Station on business. Though he had never visited the station before, to him, it was just like the hundreds of others he had set foot on in his travels. He paid little mind to the other denizens and their meandering paths into the numerous shops and entertainment. Caleb could barely guess why his target had chosen to visit this station in particular. He knew the why was of no consequence; it was a mission. Seeing the woman duck into The Mortuary, her Miraluka companion in tow, the Togorian soon followed.

Of course, it is a bar, he observed.

He found he could not fault her for needing an escape, no matter how temporary. Carefully he wove his way past other patrons, his cloak rustling lightly over armour that was otherwise muffled. So he came upon the woman and her companion, idly removing his helmet to place it on the bar; he shot her a sidelong glance with his icy blue eyes.

“Lady Socorra, young Kaled,” he greeted in his rich baritone. “A little ways from home, aren’t we?” he queried conversationally in Mando’a.

Caleb had little doubt of what her reaction would be to his presence. He could admittedly care less when it came down to it. A mission is a mission, even if that mission is to keep an eye on someone. He scanned the room, taking note of the other patrons and a few faces he vaguely recognized in passing. Catching the bartender’s eye, he waited for them to approach before sliding a cred stick across the counter and ordering a double of whiskey.

Kaled sat down besides his Mandalorian companion. Carefully getting familiar with people’s auras in the room.

This was exciting for the Miraluka. A chance to spend time with Socorra, while trying to convince here to train him for a bit, and meeting new people outside Selen.

“Yes Master. I’ll try and keep up.” Kaled said, nodding his head in confirmation.

He was trying to keep himself more serious, but after what Socorra’s joke he wasn’t sure if he could relax or be on his best behavior.

“Ammm, Aunty. I didn’t mean to make you angry. I just wanted to spend soma time with you. And I wanted to ask a question that’s-”

When Caleb approached, the Miraluka act in general surprise. He wasn’t expecting someone from the clan would come here as well. Maybe Togorian was here on business.

“Hello Caleb!” Kaled shifted to a more relaxed dimmer. “Surprise to see you here. Hehe. Sorry, bad joke. We were just…Well I’m here because Aunty is here. And I’m trying to keep up. What brings you here? Business?”

Zxyl had only just “unlocked” his helmet with a hiss, lifted it slightly to take a drink of his ale, and replaced it on his head before he noticed Socorra and her companions enter into the establishment. The Mandalorian had seen the woman once before, prior to the attack by the Children of Mortis, though back then she looked rough; using a beskar spear as a walking stick and covered in obscure robes, as if she had just crawled out of a prison of sorts. The other two accompanying her, he wasn’t overly familiar with.

The Regent examined the woman, the Togorian Mandalorian accompanying her, and the Miralukan fellow as the three took their seats and ordered drinks. He did not know offhand - without referencing A.C.E. payment salary reports - from which of the seven clans they hailed, but could tell from their interactions that they were closely aligned. After a few moments of study the Regent of the Brotherhood took another large but cumbersome swig of his drink and set the half-finished glass down on the table, contemplating calling them over. Afterall, this was a social visit for the heavily armed Mando'ade.

With the influx of different clan members, and Council members, Kanal decided it was time to make his way to the Mortuary to see what all the huh bub was about. He locked down his ship and slung his spear around his back. He holstered his sidearm and left the hanger bay. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his own Consul, Korvis, heading into the adjacent docking bay. Before moving toward the bar, Kanal decided to check in on his Consul to make sure everything was ok. As the Reaver peeked his head inside the door he noticed Appius coming off of a shuttle with what appeared to be a Mortis dressed spy sitting on the floor. The man was still twitching as Korvis looked down upon him.

“What the heck is that Sith Spawn doing here?” Kanal said loudly and without thinking. “Korvis? Appius?”

So much for quiet comforts.

Thane sighed, having noted far too many familiar faces even before he entered The Mortuary. How foreboding. The Firrerreon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. After allowing a moment to collect himself, Thane adjusted his collar—raising it so that it covered the lower half of his face—and entered the establishment.

Zxyl had been sitting in such a position that he had a complete view of The Mortuary, and took immediate notice that Stokos had finally entered the establishment - only his color had been raised, obscuring part of his face.

Oh really?

The Dathomirian let a wide grin creep onto the face beneath his gold and gunmetal grey helmet, raising his glass into the air towards the newcomer, “The Justicar hath arrived!” he called, essentially pointing him out to everyone there. It was actually a perfect circumstance that the Elder had happened to make the journey to Sundari Station at the same moment as the Mandalorian, so he could share at some point how construction was coming along on the Justicar’s new… rehabilitation facility. Just in case Thane thought of some revenge, the Mandalorian re-locked his helmet and it clasped back around his head.

Kanal, without thinking again, approached the scene in front of him. However, as soon as he got closer, Darrio grabbed one of his blasters and pointed it in his face.

Not one to be outdone, Kanal withdrew his beskar spear and pointed it at Darrio, daring him to shoot, and willing to make him pay if he did.

At the sudden spike in tension, Korvis grazed his hand over his blaster, but stopped before he could retrieve it when he saw Appius place a hand on Darrio’s forearm.

“Lower it,” Appius said, his tone stern. “We’re guests here. Show a little decency.”

Reluctantly, Darrio did as instructed, letting out a heavy sigh as he holsters his blaster.

“Sorry about him. New places put him on edge,” Appius said, clasping his hands together. “And hello to you too, Kanal. Its been a while. Lyra Colony I think?”

“Appius, you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, after what you pulled.” Kanal said sternly as he approached the former Vizslan. He stabbed the spear into the deck plating and charged the man stopping just in front of him with fists up. He quickly reached for Appius hand and started to laugh like a crazed Kowakian Lizard Monkey. “You crazy jerk, bringing this scum and filth here. It has been some time.”

As she waited for the drink Socks watched the bar with an amused smirk, her Sith runed-covered arms and ankles crossed while she leaned backwards on the counter. Although clearly in Mando Country, the Erinos was only lightly armored and the only beskar visible being vambraces and blades.

“Caleb,” she tersely greeted the Togorian stepping up next to her, likewise in Mando'a which was far more clear than her Basic. “Ways away from home, yes, that is the point. What of you? Kal ‘borrowed’ a ride. He is very lucky I was not on the way to Arx.”

She slightly angled her head towards Kaled and invoked the ‘stage whisper’ that Wyn often used. And back to Basic.

“Not mad, Kal. It was joke. You’d really know if I mad. By the way, have you ‘seen’ Dark Councilor other than me and Marick? The loud one, that is Zxyl, the current Regent. He give you meager paycheck and charge outrageous price for gear. He is why I constantly broke.”

“The other is just Thane, Justicar. Small potato.”

Socks flippantly flapped a hand and mischievously bit her lip.

Caleb brought his drink to his lips, sipping. The feeling of the whiskey searing a path down his throat was delightful, and he drank deeper from the glass. He followed Socorra gaze and listened.

“Here on a mission,” he said in response to her question. He did not elaborate.

Caleb eyed the loud one for a moment. “Side missions are a decent supplement to one’s meagre paycheck,” he suggested with another drink from his glass. “Perhaps collect from young Kaled for the borrowed ride. Transportation fee.” His gaze turned to fix Kaled with a stern look.

“Zxyl has wares, if you have coin,” the Mandalorian chimed in upon hearing Socorra, butting into the conversation and then immediately butting back out.

Her head cocked to the side. Uh huh. “Ryn is not innocent of this crime.”

Even without the eyes, Kaled could tell that Caleb was staring at him. It made him a little uncomfortable, but he managed to hold on to his happy demeanour.

Right until someone suddenly jumped into the conversation and abruptly left. The Miraluka never sensed this person before, but he might have been the friend with Socorra.

“R-Right.” He said scratching his head while laughing nervously. “Just…If I said that…I just got lost in a closet again would you believe me?” Arcanist continued to laugh nervously, even sweating as he lifted his hand to order a drink for himself.

The woman raised a dark eyebrow and gave Caleb a side-long glance on the side of her missing eye. “Ah, mission. Is this mission a one-time thing or should I expect to see you repeating it?”

TheTogorian took his chilly gaze off Kaled to bring his attention back to Socorra. “I suppose that would depend upon the client and if they are looking to make it a regular thing. I enjoy an easy credit once in a while.”

Caleb cast his gaze around the bar, “Do be careful who’s closet you are getting lost in, Kaled, it worked out fine this time but perhaps the next will see you in a more awkward situation. This situation is definitely a decent one. Good choice in bars, Lady Socorra. Decent whiskey.” He swallowed the last of what was in his glass before motioning for another of the same.

Appius gleefully answered. “Absolutely! This was a long journey as I’m sure you can imagine. A drink would be good!”

“Appius… what are you doing?” Darrio asked.

Appius looked at him and tilted his head to the side. “Getting a drink?”

“We did what we came here here to do. Let’s just go.”

Appius placed his hands on his hips. “Honestly, Darrio. Where’s your sense of adventure? It’s not like you to turn down a drink. Relax. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Darrio fell silent as Appius turned back to Korvis.

“Lead the way, Korvis! Have fun, Kanal. Try not to kill him before you interrogate him.”

Appius made sure to kick the spy as he stepped over him. Darrio followed closely behind, barging past Kanal and keeping his ears and eyes open for anything unusual.

“Well I suppose you are right.” Kaled said as he leaned back in his seat.

“Honestly, wall’s look the same to me. Well not same but general shapes are the same. That doesn’t really explain me greeting a landing pad instead of a person, but that was an honest mistake.”

His head moved around, sensing people in the bar. A lot of new aura’s were present and none of them were familiar.

“Well…I wanted to ask Master Socorra to train me for a while. It was never a good time to ask, mostly because we were always doing something. So good as time as any I guess?”

“Your efforts are wasted,” Thane stated quietly to Zxyl, a lilt playing with his words. At least, it seems that way, he mentally added to himself.

The Justicar flicked a brow tauntingly at the current Regent as he made his way past, approaching the bar itself as it limited the options for ‘hanger-ons’. A lesson learned from the last time he opted for a table. Thane placed an order for the strongest thing on the menu. An unfortunate side-effect of his species’ metabolism was a high tolerance for alcohol. That meant quite the hit to his credit account in the event he actually wanted to be well and truly gone.

Tuuka sat at the bar, sipping his beer as The Mortuary had slowly become more and more lively as others joined the festivities. He drained the remainder of his beverage and nodded to the bartender with two upheld fingers. He pushed the empty glassware to the other side of the bar for it to be taken from him and not long after the bartender replaced the empty glass with two full beers. He took one for himself and slid the other down the bar to the Justicar.

“There’s something to sip on while your drowning out the Minister of Merchants.” Tuuka chuckled. “Sad existence for a Mando if you ask me.” He said to himself as he swallowed another mouthful..

<@185936112441622529>

“Seems so, but was amusing nonetheless,” Bes'uliik responded as “Atra” made his way to the bar, swirling his amber drink around inside the glass, and pulling out his datapad. With a few quick taps of his fingers he sent the schematics for Thane’s new rehabilitation facility directly to the Justicar’s own datapad, before bringing up a swath of information on his own dealings; more refinements he had planned to his ever complicated armor, a trove of personal weapon designs, and a couple bounties.

“Thank you. I figure no better place to break long sobriety than with bunch ‘o Mandos.”

She turned to Kaled. “Of course. But not if you keep calling me that. And you too, Wild’en, we’re in a bar for kark sake.”

Rajhin finished browsing the weapons shop and decided to make his way over to the Mortuary. The people coming and going through the promenade seemed to pay him no mind. Upon reaching the entrance, the Togorian paused to scan the room to see if there was anyone he knew or anyone who looked open to a friendly contest of strength or arms. His amber eyes met his traveling companion and fellow councilor Zxyl who he acknowledged with a respectful nod. Thane was here as well, noticeably by himself at the bar for the moment. There were a variety of interesting faces in the room the Fist did not recognize. He noticed a fellow Torogarian whom he made a mental note to engage with later.

The Fist’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar presence in the Force approaching from behind. He turned around and spotted the unmistakable armor pattern of the Taldryan consul flanked by his Vizlan counter-part Korvis. Rajhin was eager to greet the clan leaders and try to dispel any remaining tension from “the incident” with Appius a few weeks prior.

”APPIUS!” he boomed toward the promenade causing those in the immediate vicinity to stare.

The Mandalorian consul froze in his tracks just outside the bar unsure of what was about to transpire.

Swear words had never gone through Appius’ head faster than in that one moment. How could he not recognise THAT voice? A sudden, sharp feeling travelled down his spine as he invuntarily tensed.

He didn’t need the Force to know the direction it came from. The Fist of the Brotherhood was larger than life in more ways than one, and Appius’ name was heard loud and clear over the chatter of the Promenade. Appius slowly turned his head to face him, and sure enough, there he was. Rajhin, Fist of the Brotherhood.

“Sithspit…” Appius said. Maybe he should have listened to Darrio and left whilst they could. Maybe it wasn’t too late?

“Is there a problem?” Korvis asked.

Darrio too was unsure what to make of the situation. Appius was thankful he hadn’t told him of the fight between him and Rajhin. If he had, Darrio would have his blasters out by now.

Alas, time was not the Taldryan Consul’s friend. The Togorian made great strides from the bar, and clasped one giant, pawed hand on Appius’ shoulder.

Rajhin gripped tighter, “the Children of Mortis quake in fear with leaders like you at the helm of the clans! THIS MAN FIGHTS LIKE AN ANIMAL!”

Appius was so taken aback by Rajhin’s declaration he almost forgot to respond. Thankfully, he was wearing his helmet, otherwise he would have been caught blinking with his mouth agape.

After a moment though, he regained his composure. He wasn’t leader of the Taldryan Republic for no reason, and Rajhin’s gesture wasnt lost on him.

“And there’s a reason this man is Fist of the Brotherhood! Believe me, he’s tougher than he looks! And that’s saying something!”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Darrio asked, horribly confused at the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t-Wait! You agree to train me!?” Kaled instantly straightened up in surprise of the reply.

To him it was a long shot, but this wasn’t the result that Miraluka was expecting. Though to be fair he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“Right! I will do just that Mas-I mean Aunty? Is that alright? Sorry I’m just… happy!”

Caleb arched a brow and was about to respond when the voice of the other Togorian boomed in greeting to another arrival. Caleb sighed heavily. Why did people have to be so loud? He nodded to the bartender in thanks when his second drink was served.

“So, young Kaled wishes to learn, hmm?” He took a sip from the fresh drink, “You do not plan to go easy on him, I hope, Socorra?”

He, of course, doubted greatly that she knew how to take it easy. Even if the Miraluka were her nephew. Caleb turned his attention toward the other Togorian and the exchange with another patron he seemed to know.

Kanal had contacted Tranok in the brig and had an armed guard come up to the docking bay to scoop up the Mortis spy. He followed them all the way into the cell and made sure to give the man one final kick before leaving the cell and sealing it behind him. Kanal smiled and headed for the lift to head to the Mortuary.

Zxyl was not at the bar! He was at an empty table, just doing his own thing like a loner. But after hearing Appius’ name, he was keenly waiting for the man to enter the establishment.

“Happy, he says,” she replied to Caleb. “They always happy at beginning.”

Socorra ordered a second glass and finally took her bottle of raava from the counter, lightly bouncing off the bar to stand upright with the beverages in hand.

“Feel free to mission way home instead of wait, otherwise I introduce in bit. Kaled should make new friend,” she nodded towards to Tuuka.

“Now excuse me while I go fraternize.”

She need not go far to reach the Justicar at the bar and spoke quietly to him in passing. “Good see you, Thane. Save room for drink or two with me.”

Then with a sultry swagger the woman weaved in between furniture to cross the floor to Zxyl’s table. She stopped in front of it and stared down at him with her good eye, the other one scarred over behind a shock of white hair. As she held the drinks there was a kind of devilish smile on her ruby lips not unlike the first time they met. No longer appearing to be a waif, she had clearly regained her health and recovered since then.

“Oh great payer of paychecks, I come bearing your favored whiskey..”

“Agreed!” Appius said. “And ypu know what? First round is on me!”

“Appius! What the hell is going on here!?” Darrio held out an accusatory finger at Rajhin. “And how do you know him!?”

Appius looked to Rajhin, who looked back at him and shrugged, a gesture that said ‘You can tell him if you want.’ Korvis folded his arms, perhaps getting a little impatient at the lack of drink in his arms.

The question was how to explain it to Darrio?

“We had a… disagreement on things that we decided to settle on the field of battle,” Appius said, proud if himself that he said it in the most Rajhin way possible.

“TOO RIGHT! AND A SPLENDID BATTLE IT WAS!” Rajhin patted Appius hard on his back, nearly sending the Taldryan Consul rocketing forward.

A thought then occurred to Darrio. “Appius… how many people have ypu fought that are here on this station?”

Appius was slightly taken aback by the question, but tilted his head, and folded his arms. He connected to the Force, feeling the life-force of every living being on the station. Each one was unique, and he remembered those he’d fought against very acutely.

“Do you want a list?” He finally answered.

Darrio pressed a hand against his visor, mumbling something about idiotic brothers not thinking through their actions. “I’m going to get a drink, preferably something strong. Just stay where I can see you and dont do anything stupid.”

Darrio barged past Korvis and Rajhin into the bar, leaving and irritated Appius behind.

Korvis let out a cough and gestured inside. “Shall we?”

Caleb arched a brow. “Happy never lasts long once the bleeding starts…” he muttered into his drink.

The Togorian had no plans to leave, nor did he have any plans to shadow her around the bar. He could keep an eye on her perfectly fine from where he was. Caleb leaned against the bar, eyes scanning. Suppose I should try and be social… He sighed and straightened up, looking at Kaled sternly, “Do not get lost in any closets.”

The Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette Serenity barreled its way towards the Mortuary, the white-uniformed Ewok sitting firmly in the Captain’s chair as he watched the space lines in front of him. His left leg was crossed over his right, and he leaned against the left armrest with his elbow and fist upon his cheek, one finger scratching his fur.

He was annoyed. Extremely, extremely annoyed. Yet again, Appius quietly and quickly had ditched his summit guard. Leaving but a note on his desk that he was bored and going out for fun at a place in Vizlan space called the Mortuary.

He had warned him numerous times not to make such rash moves without first consulting him, or at least taking the summit guard with him. Yet he always never listened and generally wound up in trouble much like the situation on Canto Bight.

At the very least, he was going to leash him to his personal guard before returning to Taldryan space. He knew there was a capture-and-cook-alive order out on himself from two separate clans, but this was his own risk he had to take.

At the best…maybe he would find a new supply of Whyren’s Reserve.

“We are about to arrive, sir.” an Ugnaught spoke up from the helm.

Teebu sat silent for a moment as he contemplated…maybe Appius would make a good stew. “Bring us out of lightspeed, contact the station and inform them of our request for docking.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Indeed you do,” Bes'uliik nodded, accepting the glass from the Sith. He unsealed his helmet once more, opening slightly around his head. The Regent tilted his bucket upwards, enough to finish his existing drink so he could begin swirling around the one brought by the former Herald.

“It’s been a while,” the Dathomirian said flatly, helmet facing her direction as it slid back down over the lower part of his face, “You’re no longer a cripple.”

The woman chuckled lightly, nodding, “Yeah, things have improved. Not been an easy road.” The Warlord took a swig of the drink she’d brought with her, ice dinging against the glassware as she set it back down on the table.

“What brings you out this way?” they both asked at the same time, drawing smirks from both. Zxyl gestured for her to proceed first.

“A little arr-and-arr, with everything that has happened recently. Getting myself and by extension others to try to blow off steam. You?”

“Much the same,” he looked down for a moment, swirling the amber liquid around his glass before looking back up, “I’ve been so busy since the Children of Mortis attacked, several of us decided it would be best to forge new relationships wi-” he stopped for a moment, as Darrio, Appius, Korvis, and his feline colleague Rajhin entered the bar.

“Excuse me a moment, please,” the Mandalorian requested as he rose to his feet. Darrio had headed right to the bar for a drink, while the others took in the happenings around the bar. Fluid in his movements, Bes'uliik made his way over to the new arrivals; stopping before Appius.

The crimson armored man nodded, a wave of seriousness washing over him momentarily. The Regent and the Taldryan Consul had an interesting relationship - very loyal to each other almost as brothers, both diehard adherents to the Mandalorian Creed, but Zxyl was always hard on the human Mando'ade. Even still, their adventures together had proven the two had each other’s backs.

“Zxyl, good to see you,” his fellow Taldrya greeted him and tried to immediately diffuse the inevitable tension.

“Supreme Chancellor Wight,” the heavily armored Mandalorian said coldly and mockingly - clearly unimpressed with the new title Appius had bestowed upon himself.

The Taldryan Consul sighed for a moment, raising a hand. His senses tingled, alerting him that danger was imminent - but he let it happen anyways.

“Look, I can tell you’re upset, bu-” the red Mandalorian couldn’t even finish his sentence, as Bes'uliik’s fully armored hand slammed into his helmet and knocked him to the floor.

Korvis shifted, raising his eyebrows as if unsure whether he should intervene. If it went any further, he might. A wave of real excitement washed over Rajhin, reveling in it.

"Upset? No, angry. You and I are going to have words about it in private later,” the Dathomirian stated as he helped the man he’d just knocked down back to his feet. Appius shook his head for a moment, regaining his bearings.

“Understood. Until then?” he asked, unsure of what came next.

“We drink,” Zxyl replied, motioning for them to join him at the table Socorra remained at - and somewhat surprised at what had just transpired. It was so random.

<@837236610684813342>

Thane examined the beer. Not his usual choice, but an acceptable offering he supposed. With a nod of thanks, the Firrerreon took a swig and turned his black-gold gaze towards Tuuka. “Better existence than before,” the Justicar remarked with a slight smirk. “Doesn’t report to me anymore.”

As Socorra greeted him, Thane raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement and glanced in her direction with a subtle nod.

As the Serenity docked with the station and the ramp lowered, off strode two Death Troopers at the front, weapons held firmly at their chest followed closely by Teebu. Behind him followed a contingent of eight blue-armored guardsmen, enshrouded by a blue cloak and full-head helm.

“Remain here, guard the ship.” Teebu commanded to the two troopers, who almost immediately turned to the right and left respectively and stepped backwards towards the ramp as Teebu and the guards continued onward.

Together they proceeded into the station and towards the Mortuary. Once they arrived, Teebu already saw Appius on the floor and sighed. Already he was getting into trouble and shook his head dejectedly.

He snapped his fingers. “Guard the locale, priority on the nut but support the others.” With that order given, the guards took simple positions and Teebu advanced towards Appius who looked over at him from his position on the floor.

“Oh. Um…sithspit. Hello, Grand Admi-” Appius had started before he suddenly found Teebu’s boot upon his helmet after he jumped into the air, throwing him onto his back with his helmet thudding on the floor.

“Have you lost your mind, sir?” Teebu said with a full authoritiative air about him.

“Fleeing the capital without your guard or telling a single soul, save the note left on your messy desk. If your aide had not found that, it would have caused a full-on republic incident.” he continued before Appius could speak. “You have to communicate with us.”

“Oh look, the pretend-a-person’s here, with a bunch of soldiers,” Zxyl commented as he patted Korvis on the shoulder and retreated back into The Mortuary to rejoin Socorra - and his drink.

Out of the corner of his eye, Appius spotted Darrio with his hand on his holster, tightening his grip on a small, yet deadly explosive. He could blow the Regent limb from limb before he even knew what happened.

Yet, Appius shook his head. The message was clear. Don’t do it.

Darrio sighed, and was about to return go his drink when he saw what might be the funniest sight in the whole galaxy. The Ewok Vice-Chancellor of the Taldryan Republic, was jumping up and down on Appius’ head like he was a human cushion. He shook his head, deciding not to intervene. Appius was in no real danger.

Well… not yet.

Teebu jumped one time too many. He jumped, only this time, he didn’t come down. Appius held out his hand, holding Teebu in place in the air as he flailed his arms like an angry little teddy bear. Appius slowly rose to his feet, dusting himself down with his spare arm.

“If you are quite done,” he said, his tone of voice not at all pleased by the sudden proceedings.

“I am not done!” Teebu was adamant to voice his concerns, public spectators be damned! “We are still rebuilding after everything that happened! We had Pirates in the Caelus System not too long ago! You are needed back there!”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Teebu,” Appius calmly. “I admit my communication skills are… lacking to some degree. What I’m here for is a mission of trust. Darrio and I handed over a Mortis spy to the Vizsla Consul. Isn’t that right, Korvis?”

Korvis slowly nodded.

“I’m here building trust between two Clans. Don’t you think this sudden outburst is a bit much”

Teebu closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. No, it wasn’t. Appius learned best the hard way. Yet, perhaps there was a better time and place for this.

“We are about to have drinks,” Appius gently lowered Teebu to the floor, letting him stand on his own two feet. “How about you join us?”

“No, thank you. Your summit guard is here, my task is done. If you will excuse me, sir.” Teebu said as he gave a soft and respectful bow, giving a glare at Zxyl for that comment he made as he turns and makes his way out of the Mortuary. He had a different goal.

Scout out the station’s alcohol options. And with that, he was out the door.

Appius was about to follow Korvis, Zxyl, and Rajhin into the Mortuary, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. The summit guard. Of course Teebu had brought them with him, and they were getting curious looks from patrons and glares from Vizslians. This was not their territory, regardless of whether Appius was here or not.

He strode out into the middle of the hall, gesturing for them to round up on him.

“Sir! We’ve been ordered to ensure your safety and…”

“Go home.”

The guards looked at each other, confused.

“I’m… sorry, sir?”

“Go home. You are dismissed, all of you. Get the next shuttle back to the Caelus System.”

“But… we…”

“I appreciate your loyalty,” Appius placed a hand on tbe guards shoulder. “You were following orders. I’m proud of you all, and thank you, but your services aren’t required here. Nothing will happen.”

“The Grand Admiral said-”

“If the Grand Admiral has an issue with it, he can come speak with me directly. I know he’s on the station.”

The guards looked tentatively at one another before slowly vacating the area. Satisfied, Appius returned to the bar.

With idle amusement Socorra watched the displays, none of which were unfamiliar, especially with Appius involved.

“Do you know if the bar has popcorn?” she asked Zxyl as he returned with loud and heavy steps.

“I’m sure they have something. I get the feeling we’re going to need it. At least I hope so. Not the brightest move from a "master tactician”, bringing in another clan’s military forces unannounced. I’m surprised they made it as far as they did,“ he chuckled, before attempting to order such a snack from Raava at the bar.

Kaled leaned forward, obviously interested in the conversation. He tapped Socorra on the shoulder before pointing in the direction of the people’s voices.

“Aunty…who are those people? Mandalorian’s?”

Hector could feel the beginning of a headache as he strode towards the turbo lifts of Sundari Station. His commlink had received panicked messages from the station guards. One would think Ulic Qel-Droma had risen from the dead and brought an army of Jedi to their doors. Instead a retinue of a mere 10 guards had accompanied a Taldryan figure, some Grand Admiral or something. The disruption bothered him less than the response of the Vizsla forces, panicking over comms and doing nothing to stop the group and avoid an incident was embarrassing. Remedial training for the guards was in order after this ordeal.

She felt the mental tap from her new table and equally nodded with the Force, although she wasn’t sure if all of them were, just as they likely questioned her as well.

Teebu looked around, arms clasped together behind his back as he explored the station, curious of the surroundings and what all the station had to offer. Some of the shops were…unique. Others, offering things he didnt need like starship components and weapons. He wasnt surprised at a lot of this, given the nature of Vizsla.

The guard’s tongue lashing could wait; giving them a dressing down in front of company would be horribly unprofessional. Entering the turbo lift, he waited patiently until he arrived at the station’s main floor. He made his way over to The Mortuary, taking one of the open seats at the bar. “I’ll have a Solo on the rocks.” He ordered as he slid a credit chit forward as payment. He slid off his helmet and turned towards Appius. “So I hear you’re going by Supreme Chancellor these days. Someone’s moved up in the galaxy. How’s it been treating you?”

“Had I known Appi be here I would bring the bar whole stock.“ The woman’s Basic and accent skipped unimportant words, over-enunciated every syllable and rolled every R with precision.

"And sah, not ‘cripple’ anymore. Although if you saw state of my armor you might wonder how. Crystal raptors used me as a chew toy, tore open beskar like can of calamari.”

Kaled turned around to Caleb. Clearly focusing back on their conversation.

“Yeah…well you know..it will not be by my own choice I can tell you that.” He giggled as he reached out for his drink, missing a glass a few times before finally grabbing it.

“Soo…Dark Council ha? Weird question, is everyone here a Mandalorian? Like…Im the only…” He waved in front of his face a few times, implying that he was the only one of his people in this bar. “Yeah?”

The eight blue-dressed guards wandered their way through the station, suddenly coming into view of several more Vizsla troops who suddenly went into panic mode on the comms again and held their distance from the eight.

They looked around as if they were lost, trying to find their way. But were just as quickly scaring the guards.

Appius was lost in both his thoughts, and the bar, not wanting to intrude on conversations already taking place, but also not wanting to stand around like a helpless child. So, he settled at the bar, silently wondering if his token of goodwill had been wasted when he heard Hector’s voice, then an arm clasped around him, dragging him over to the table where lots of familiar and unfamiliar faces were gathered.

That was a voice he hadn’t heard since… Crait?

“Oh, you know. My desk loves paperwork, I’m constantly the target of glitterbombs and assassination attempts, so, you know, the usual. How about you, Hector? Have you gotten bigger since I last saw you?”

Zxyl sat with Socorra once more at their table, having returned with a snack. He motioned for her and anyone else who joined them to have a snack, raising his helmet above his lips and taking another drink of the whiskey that Socorra had brought him.

“That is… Unfortunate, at best,” he remarked about the woman’s armor. He hated even hearing about things like that, for it just drove the technician and smith in him karking bonkers.

“Those beasts were exceptionally foul and ruthless. I had qualms about letting them leak into the Godless Matron and her black market.. but if a member of the Brotherhood wishes to take a stab at owning one, all the power to them. Still, it appears as though your armor did the job as intended.”

Socorra nodded. It had indeed. But Zxyl wasn’t done yet.

“In the interests of relationship building and breaking down walls… I do have an offer for you. Should you wish - and supply the Beskar needed - I will agree to forge for you a new set of the highest quality, in whatever Mandalorian aesthetic you wish. For proof of quality, you could just look to my own, Idris’, Appius’, and Korvis’ armors.”

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” The human remarked in amusement. “Been busy with construction and rearmament, the next time the Children show their faces in Zsoldos space we’ll be better prepared.” His commlink once again began to chirp. “Give me a moment please.” He requested as he willfully kept from scowling. Placing his helmet back onto his head he answered: “What is it now?” One of the guardsmen replied, “Sir, the blue guards have been making their way through the station. We don’t want to cause an incident so we’ve been keeping an eye on them.” Face hidden beneath his helmet, the human now allowed a scowl to break out upon his face. “I’ll be right there.” He responded as he began to make his way towards the guards.

Bes'uliik nodded to Von as the man took his leave abruptly, turning his attention back to Socorra. It wasn’t everyday that the Regent offered to personally forge something for someone, but she had come quite the long way in recovery since they first met those months ago and she seemed strong-willed, at the very least - as any Mandalorian should be. While the Dathomirian awaited her consideration and contemplation of his offer, he shifted his gaze back over to Appius’ side of the table,

“Been a long time since you were back here, I bet. Hopefully not a wasted trip.”

<@837236610684813342>

“About two and a half years. I’d be lying if I said things were still the same. Looks like you’ve been busy, Korvis,” Appius raised a glass, slowly taking off his helmet to reveal the ashen hair and blue eyes some at that table recognised. He took a sip of his drink, and his attention then turned to Socorra. “I’d take him up on his offer. Trust me, it’s of the highest quality.”

As if to make a point, Appius tapped the lightning bolt on his armor.

The eight continued to to go around, with one in the lead now thinking they are on the right path. Ahead, they spot more troops as well as another figure. They come to a stop roughly 200 feet from the group.

It was impossible to tell if they were holding their weapons or had them prepared, or even nothing at all, due to their blue robes.

<@476595775187451913>

Kanal walked into The Mortuary and saw all of the groups talking. He walked up to the bar to order a drink and to see what was going on.

“Technically I own few crystals for free. Some shards still in here,” she lightly chuckled, pointing to her, well, everything. “I trained for so long after coma. Fired many therapists. So many setbacks. But worth it just to wear the armor again, even if it was just for one day. Battle at Blindshot was glorious. Frontline against overwhelming numbers of troops, raptor stampedes, a karkin’ crystal turtleneck - dream come true for any Mando’ade.”

She was quiet for a moment as she contemplated the offer, looking over the mentioned examples. The examples wouldn’t sway one way or another but it was good to see the work the Regent could do. It was, however, hard to part with the old with so much history attached, even if it was a burden.

“I no Consul, or Dark Councilor anymore, and I honestly only here to drink for first time in oh, nine or so months.” It was said cheekily, as if actually hinting to something. But she did raise her untouched bottle of Socorran raava.

“But if all same to you, then I would be honored to have you forge it. It’s hell of an offer. There is great family tragedy in the Erinos armor, made long before the surge in Brotherhood Mandos. Long before we were really embraced. A lot of old, real heavy osik in that set. It just might be time I drop that weight. New horizon, as you say.”

Socorra lifted the bottle again, but to Zxyl this time, and held it in the air.

“Very well, then. I care not for your fame as a member, only your status as a Mandalorian,” he nodded, tilting his head forward. With both hands, he grabbed his helmet and slowly raised it off, revealing his dark grey skin, heterochromatic irises, and of course his well groomed but currently braised beard - a sight only a few of his closest allies had seen thus far. Bes'uliik had been raised in the Way of the Mandalore since he was first taken in as a founding, and still often struggled to overcome it, giving him immense anxiety. He raised his glass to her, holding it in the air for a few moments before each of them took a swig.

In that moment, he made a few taps on his datapad and slid it over to her. On the screen was a multitude of different Mandalorian armor designs, of all shapes and sizes, each with a blank color palette that could be painted to suit the Arconan’s needs.

“I want to make it clear that nobody is telling you to drop your history or heritage with the Erinos,” the Regent began, his clear and deep voice unmodulated without his helmet, “I can restore your former armor to its previous glory, or we can incorporate that familial heritage into a new design. At the end of the day, it’s about ensuring you are happy with it.”

At one of the shops, he noticed a bottle with a soft red colored liquid in it. It looked eerily familiar to him, and he glanced at the keeper curiously. “Is this Phattro, by chance?”

The Rodian gave a nod but did not speak. Obviously he knew basic, but could not speak it. Teebu started looking around more at his selection. Having something fairly rare like this was a good sign. “Whyren’s Reserve, by chance?”

The Rodian closed his eyes and shook his head negatively to which the Ewok gave a soft sigh. He assumed as much. But, at least he had an option now for something tasty to take back home.

Hector began to jog briskly, a new sense of urgency demanding haste. Continued reports from the guards portrayed an increasing volatile situation; the blue robe guards had stuck around the station despite orders from their Consul to vacate. He would have to deal with the guards and then pay the Ewok a visit. Apparently the little degenerate had the audacity to jump on Appius head. The Sith had not seen it, but he trusted his guards observational skills. He was overcoming with fury. His grey eyes turned sulfuric yellow and then crimson red. Marching into the corridor he made stared at the blue guards who stood in a standoff with the personnel of Sundari Station. The Sith felt the very air around him grow cold as he reached out with the Force; touching the minds of each blue guard. The stand off ended abruptly a minute later when the blue guards began to shake and freeze; overcome by their primal fears. Taking advantage of their weakened morale, Von once again caressed their minds with the Force. But instead of inducing terror he demanded obedience. Forcing his will over them, he dominated their minds and bodies. He forcefully marched them to the hangar and on board one of the diplomatic shuttles. He forced them to input the coordinates for Taldryan space and watched as the shuttle left the hangar. Only when the shuttle had jumped to hyperspace did the Sith release his control, collapsing to his knees. Sweat poured down his face and his head ached. Stripping the will from a sentient was difficult and enough and only became more arduous when more targets were affected. It was easy enough to dominate several people for a few seconds but the lengthy control he employed was exhausting. Standing up, Hector went to grab a painkiller and his drink; he’d need both to deal with the treacherous Ewok.

Tuuka sat at the bar, slack jawed from what had just happened. It was like watching a train wreck, it was horrifying, yet he couldn’t pull his gaze away. And when it finally ended, he was relieved and at the same time disappointed. What was Appius going to do next? Surely, weapons would be drawn. Wouldn’t they?

“Uhhh. Bartender,”Tuuka motioned to Appius, “get that man something strong and tall. He needs to forget tonight happened.”

Caleb blinked slowly. What did he witness? The Togorian thought, perhaps, he had just not drank enough yet to understand such strangeness. Be it as it may, he sighed and sipped at his drink, enjoying the warm sear of it as it traced a path down his throat. He was sure Mune would have understood, had they been with them. Ah well. He picked up his helmet and crossed the room, perhaps it was time to introduce himself to the other Togorian in the bar, loud though he may be.

A drink was immediate placed in Appius’ hand, but the Mandalorian was too frozen in place to lift it himself. He took slow, jagged breaths as his grip on his drink tightened. Those with access to the Force might have felt the swelling of emotions building inside him lind a volcano ready to erupt, yet, to his credit, he simply lifted his helmet off enough to allow himself to down his drink. All of it.

He stood up promptly, and this was when Darrio decided to rub salt in the wound.

“You smell like sweat and shame,” Darrio grinned at him like a possessed cat, his helmet held under his arm.

“We’re leaving,” Appius said.

Darrio rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. I bet Ankira will find it funny.”

Appius got right in Darrio’s face, startling the older brother for half a second.

“You will not tell anyone about this. Understand? Not Ankira, not Ellisyn, nobody.”

Darrio’s gaze hardened. His brother may have been Supreme Chancellor of the Taldryan Republic, but he was still the younger sibling.

“Calm down,” Darrio said. “Look, it’s just a bit of fun. At your expense, sure, but fun nonetheless.”

Appius let out a heavy sigh, trying to calm the beating of his heart. He was embarrassed, shamed, and any shred of respect he might have had, vanished in gbe sequence of events. Out of tbe corner of his eye he saw the Gammorean blow a kiss to him. It made him sick to his stomach.

“I’m going to talk to Zxyl before we go. He said he had something he wanted to discuss, something worth punching me over.”

With that, Appius made his way over to Zxyl.

Circe looked up from her small datapad, she didn’t need to see what had happened, her ears gave her all the info she needed. As a result she shook her head slowly and wondered how they had still stayed together if this is how they worked together… Must have been something from their Mandalorian culture or something that she didn’t understand. For now she would just keep an eye or an ear in her case on them.

Thane took a long gulp, finishing off his beer. This was certainly…different than the Vizsla he left. In fairness, though, it wasn’t exactly all Vizsla’s doing. Interclan relations have certainly taken on a different form from his memories. Sure, the one-upmanship hadn’t changed, but it was done in an…interesting manner.

The Justicar was glad he hadn’t been watching, because he knew exactly what happened and it caused his eyes to roll.

Sure enough, Zxyl was conversing with fellow Mando'ade Socorra, provably about armor or something.

She noticed Appius approach and waved hello.

Appius gave a curt not in response and placed a hand gently on Zxyl’s shoulder. “I’m heading out. You said you wanted to talk to me?”

The raava bottle felt familiar in her hand and the taste was an old friend come back from all nine hells itself. She could always find solace at the bottom of one. Not a swig nor a large gulp, the woman steadily drank the desert flower and fruit liquor until the sediment at the bottom could be seen and slammed the bottle down onto the table with finality. Socorra savored the flavor for a moment before wiping her chin with the back of her burn-scarred hand.

“I’ll consider,” she said, knowing just how meaningful it was that Bes’uliik removed his helmet. The woman stared at him with one arctic eye, studying, memorizing. Understanding.

“There is something to be said of tradition. But my memory is both blessing and curse. I live in the past and often fail to see the future.”

At Appius’ cold greeting - and interruption - Socorra rose from her chair and stood close to him, her head cocked to the side.

“What is that bantha osik? Hoth be warmer than you today. Did you not like wedding gift?”

She purposely turned to someone else, knowing it was a huge mistake, and Appi knowing it was a huge mistake, but the point would be made, consequences be damned.

“Darrio! How are ya now?“

“Sup, Socs.”

Darrio offered her a complimentary fist bump.

She returned the fist bump. “You two are clearly decoys. The place isn’t on fire yet and Darrio opened his mouth but his foot did not go in.”

“Privately, on the Eternal” acknowledged Bes'uliik. He looked at Socorra, told her he’d be back in a little while, and rose to his feet. Removing his helmet from the table, he plopped it down on his head with both hands and engaged the locking mechanism, closing it around his head and sealing it with a light hiss. He then led Appius out of The Mortuary, through the rest of Sundari Station and the hangar bay that led to the docking tube the Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette had docked with, and into the Exchange’s flagship where the two could speak privately without prying ears.

As soon as the two Mando'ade had reached a point Zxyl felt comfortable talking about what he had to say, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian turned to face the Taldryan Consul.

“What were you thinking? The Taldryan Republic? Supreme Chancellor?”

Before leaving though, Zxyl introduced his new Arconan acquaintance to the remaining people at the table; Korvis, Consul of Clan Vizsla (the man’s alcohol they were drinking and the establishment they were enjoying)… Rajhin Cindertail, the Regent’s feline colleague Fist of the Brotherhood, Commander of the Iron Navy… And last, certainly least, Darrio, Appius’ delinquent brother. THEN he carried on, with a promise to return.

Zxyl also introduced them exactly like that, because his opinion of Darrio was fairly low.

“I see how you feel this is the proper direction for Clan Taldryan, Consul. But it is wrong. It will eventually lead Taldryan to ruin, and should you survive, you’ll be standing over ashes.” Zxyl’s demeanor had changed from fair to stern.

“I don’t think tha-” Appius began, but was cut off.

“I’m not finished. Taldryan has persevered and remained strong through the good and bad because of its structure. How it’s always operated. Forming a Republic will only invite future conflicts Taldryan may not be equipped to win, even with that **Starhawk Mark II**-class vessel you’ve acquired. And no communique regarding your intended changes to any of the Taldrya? I understand myself, given I serve on the Council, but unilateral decisions made by a single figure is what led to the Galactic Empire. An empire that destroyed Manday'aim.”

Appius listened to Zxyl, folding his arms across his chest as he listened to the Regent of the Brotherhood voice his concerns.

“You act like Taldryan hasn’t been attacked repeatedly in the last few years. The Collective, Jac, the Unchained, the Children of Mortis… Taldryan was being consistently attacked before I turned it into a Republic. We are part of the Brotherhood, for karks sake! Being attacked is pretty much part of the deal!”

“I still don’t…” Zxyl started, but this time, he was cut off.

“I’m not finished. Taldryan’s structure was old and archaic. The Clan saw a steady decline and I saw an opportunity to make change. I saw an opportunity to make ‘A brotherhood within a Brotherhood’ matter, and I went for it. So far? I’d say its working out pretty well. As for the Taldrya, if they actually gave half a crap about what I was doing, they would have said something. As it stands? The ones who are actually doing things and I see on a regular basis approve. I didn’t make this decision alone, despite what it might look like. I would never turn Taldryan into CSP 2.0, if that’s what you are worried about. Taldryan will survive like it always has. Dont underestimate me, and dont underestimate them. You know first-hand what Taldryan is like.”

Zxyl let out a belly laugh.

“Taldryan has and will always be a brotherhood within a Brotherhood. It didn’t assume the structure of some failed galactic state - a galactic state that has failed numerous times - to ‘make it matter’. It needed the proper leader. Someone strong, with the guts to fight whoever needed to be fought and assert it’s authority. The only people I have underestimated are the Consuls - Rhylance, Erinyes, you.

Zxyl reached into a pouch on his belt, pulling from it a high quality crystal with purple and blue shades. He slapped it into Appius’ hand, staring into his eyes from behind his visor.

"Hold onto this for me. I won’t be needing it anytime soon,” Bes'uliik declared, walking past the man back towards the docking corridor. He stopped momentarily, turning his head back to the right a bit, “And get off my ship, Supreme Chancellor.”

The man from Clan Iron Beast returned to The Mortuary, confident Appius would depart the corvette of his own accord. If not, there was always Exchange personnel there to help him along.

The Consul of Clan Taldryan stared at the _Pomojema Shard _ in his right hand, before grasping it tightly. He didn’t have to hear his fellow Mandalorian speak the words to know what this meant.

Zxyl Bes'uliik had - at least temporarily - left the Taldrya, and from what Appius Taldrya Wight could tell, it was because of his own actions that drove the Dathomirian to that point.

Oh well.

So be it. The door can hit him squarely in the back of his head on the way out for all Appius cared.

He did not indeed need any help leaving the ship. His destination? The Mortuary to collect his vod and get the hell off this station.

Zxyl and Appius arrived only a minute or so apart. The Regent had already returned to his seat at the table, and finished off an entirely new drink by the time the Taldryan Consul arrived. Zxyl looked at him for a moment when he walked in, then back to Socorra so they could contribute the “fun”.

Teebu began making his way back towards the Mortuary where Appius should be, his BB-8 close behind with a rolling harness that was attached to a large cart. The cart, had a giant crate on it with several different types of locking mechanisms on it that were all engaged.

As he proceeded, a hooded figure stood a little ways ahead and looked at him. Teebu gave him a glance as the figure began walking towards him.

As they passed each other, a soft whisper came from the individual. “His Excellency wishes to speak with you. Secure channel 1708-delta.” And with that, the figure continued on and disappeared.

Teebu closed his eyes for a moment as he rounded the corner with the Mortuary in sight. What could Sloven possibly want that he would initiate contact here of all places? He would wait until himself and Appius were safely away from Vizsla space before returning the request.

Teebu and the BB-8 unit strode into the Mortuary just after Appius and waved at him. He quickly took notice the guards were not with him.

“Sir, did you dismiss the guards yet again and went roaming around the station?” Teebu asked.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!”

Darrio had made a spectacle of himself since Appius left. With his little brother gone, he’d effectively been let off the leash and had taken it upon himself to challenge every living being there to a test of alcoholic fortitude.

This was his fifth, or was it sixth? He’d lost count. All he knew was he was giddy as hell from the drinks, and who was he to deny the people what they wanted?

Darrio grabbed another drink and wrapped an arm around Kaled.

“You! You… you… what’s ya name? Ah, who cares! You’re alright kid, you’re alright, you gonna go faaaar in this Brotherhood, man!”

Darrio downed the drink.

“You’re half right,” Appius said. “Don’t want to cause an inter-Clan incident. Zxyl wanted to speak with me.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Teebu said. He’d already worked out what it was about.

“It wasn’t. It’s a long story, I’ll explain when we are back home. I just want to get the hell off of this station.”

“I would recommend we leave. There are urgent matters to discuss regarding the Republic. It would be more appropriate if we answered together and in a more private setting.”

Appius gave a slow nod. “Fair enough. Let me get Darrio and we…”

The Taldryan leaders heard a commotion coming from inside the bar close by. Cheers and loud voices rang out from within.

“Please tell me that’s not Darrio…” Appius said, placing a hand on his visor.

“Unfortunately, sir. I don’t think I can,” Teebu answered.

But before he continued, something struck him. Why hadn’t his Death Troopers relayed the return of the guards?

He tapped the comm on his ear. “Death Trooper GR-1M, has the summit guard returned to the ship?”

“No, sir. None have set foot here since you departed.”

This was troubling. He keyed a hidden button on his comm unit. “Summit Guard Lieutenant Anders, come in.”

Silence.

“Any member of the summit guard assigned to target nut, come in.”

Appius looked at Teebu confused. “Wait. Are you calling me a nu-”

Teebu glared at him. “Where did you send the guard? They arent answering, and my guards have not seen them since we arrived.”

“As I said, I sent them back. Told them to take the shuttle and leave,” Appius folded his arms, watching as Teebu averted his gaze. He appeared to be in thought about something. “Don’t keep me in the dark, Teebu. What happened?”

“They never made it.”

“What do you mean, they never made it?” the concern was palpable in Appius’ voice.

Teebu glared back at him. “It is as I said, they never made it.”

“Gimme a sec…”

Appius closed his eyes, connecting to the Force. He searched for his guards all over the station, hoping to pick up some sort of mass group signature, but he couldn’t find one.

“Shit…” Appius said. “Teebu, keep trying to make contact. What hangar is the-”

“Hey, Appius! That Gammorean you like so much is over here!”

“SHUT UP, DARRIO!” Appius roared over the crowd. “Teebu, what hangar is the ship you came here docked in?”

“D-17, on the other side of the station.” Teebu said, with Appius quickly locking in on it. He felt Teebu’s personal guard there and his ship’s pilot…but no sign of the summit guard at all.

Teebu shook his head negatively. “They aren’t responding on any of the emergency frequencies, even nut-one.”

“Why am I a nu-you know what? That’s not important right now. I can’t feel them. I did say to them they could take a standard shuttle. Maybe they just took a different ship?” Appius said with vague hope in his voice.

“Or they were killed,” Bes'uliik interjected, not taking his eyes away from his drink as he started another one, “Serves you right, bringing your clan’s military forces onto a Vizsla space station. But all in the name of _the Republic _.”

He had a clear mocking tone, continuing to enjoy the chaos suffering the Supreme Chancellor and his deputy.

“No, they would have returned to point of origin not knowing what ship you would have even come in or where it would be docked. Even then, they would never take a civilian transport or one of Vizsla’s. Our guard, on one of those? Kasiya’s defenses would have a field day.”

It’s as if part of Zxyl’s points to Appius were coming true. :P

As much as he hated Zxyl, he had to concur on this one. The odds of them being dead were extremely high.

“If they are…”

“Mr Regent, if you don’t mind, this matter does not involve you, even as a former Taldrya,” Appius was mocking right back.

Appius turned to Teebu. “If they are?”

“That gives us an advantage, knowing someone is interested in him. Otherwise if it was Vizsla, the guards were unarmed. Lead them back to the shuttle. They’d have no reason to attack them.”

“And, if they are…getting out of here just became a lot more difficult.”

Socorra stayed relaxed in her chair, enjoying her drink and watching the entertainment of everything growing even more chaotic.

“I don’t fly, so Evant loans me ship and pilot. Please tell me someone stole both. The entertainment value would be a thousand times more than the inconvenience.”

Suddenly Teebu’s head snapped to Zxyl, then Appius, back to Zxyl, back to Appius before he asked the question. “Wait. Former Taldrya? Appius, what did you do this time?”

Appius knew Teebu was mad. He never used anything but his title except when he was upset at something he did. And he sounded it this time even if he didnt look it.

“Well, I…”

Zxyl smirked, “I doubt it. I don’t think many people have the balls to steal a ship bearing his markings or signature.”

Darrio dragged Kaled with him over to Socorra and Zxyl. “50,000 credits and me and the kid here’ll do it!”

He then turned his attention to Socorra. “Hello there nine-outta-ten, how you doing? Don’t worry! I have a girlfriend, I ain’t interested, but have you met my young friend here!”

She pouted. “No fun.”

“Make it ten thousand.”

Kaled was clearly confused. He didn’t have any time to speak before he was dragged over the first time. “O..Well thenk- oh we are moving. Ok.” And now the second over to Socorra’s table.

He was holding his drink with both hands turning his head around, clearly looking for someone to explain what was going on. “Yeah…we can do…ammm that. Right?What’s the worse that could happen?” Miraluka lagged nervously as took a sip from his drink.

“That’s the spirit!” Darrio declared. “Now here’s the thing about women, right. You need to let em know your interested, so get in there, and speak sweet romance to her!”

Darrio pushed Kaled towards Socorra, the Miraluka was lucky enough to stop himself falling over by pressing his hands on the table. Darrio kept an eye on his young protégé and answered Zxyl.

“Twenty-Thousand and an upgrade to my blasters, oh, and free drinks for the rest of the night!”

“Deal’s now seven-five. But a real man would do it for the fun of it.”

“A girlfriend? That’s interesting. Kaled here, however, is my adopted nephew. And I came here in the ship. No fun if he takes it - I like the kid.”

She gestured to the other arconan despite his status as handler. “Caleb Wild'en.”

Kaled was a bit confused by the suggestion. He didn’t really know how to flirt, that training with Diy never really realized itself, but telling a person how you feel counted as flirting so maybe?

“I love you.” He took a moment for those words to really settle in before taking a deep breath in and continuing.

“Than you Auntie for always taking care of me even though I got lost on you ship. And for comforting me when I was not feeling myself. For opening my eyes, sorry bad joke, to the illusions. And for taking me after your wing, and as part of your family, I am eternally grateful.”

He bowed respectfully, and as he straightened up Kaled took one more sip from his glass.

Socks sat dumbfounded at Kaled’s words, her mouth agape and bottle stopped midair. It was as if she didn’t know what to do.

Eventually she shook her head, stood up and hugged him, spilling some liquor on his shoulder. “Kid, I’m going to be the death of you.”

Kaled didn’t say a word. He was glad that Socorra was happy, even though Miraluka could feel the cold liquor running down his shoulder.
Arcanist tried to hold onto the glass in his hand.

“Well…if the cold doesn’t get me first?” Kaled smiled before returning the hug.

“But don’t worry, I can’t die until I finish my training. Your’s and Diy’s. Honestly dying before I learne how to flirt seems a bit embarrassing. Hahaha.”

“And that’s where I come in!” Darrio exclaimed, grabbing hold of Kaled again, this time swinging him over towards Zxyl. “You got yourself a deal! Come on, kid! Its time for an adventure!”

Darrio was in the ki d of drunken state that was still mostly coherent, bit gave zero damns about consequence.

Ankira had silently walked up to the group and was standing behind Dario like a mother would when judging their children. Her arms were crossed in front of her and even though they couldn’t see her face, she was sure they could feel the judgement.

Caleb nodded a the introduction. He was mildly amused at the antics, though his cold gaze and carefully neutral expression communicated otherwise. His gaze took in Darrio and Kaled, and could only wonder if the kid would survive the place. It was possible the Miraluka would not even get to die during his training under Socorra. Sad days.

Caleb took a large swallow of his whiskey, “Throwing him to the beasts, are we,” he stated more than asked Socorra.

It was like Manda itself was carving holes into the back of Darrio’s skull. He slowly turned around to come face to face with his version of tbe devil herself. He gulped, going wide-eyed and pale. He tightened his grip on Kaled and dragged him out of the Mortuary, still intent on seeing the bet through.

“He’s over there!” Darrio yelled at Ankira, pointing her towards her rid'uur, Appius, who hadn’t noticed her arrival.

Yet.

Zxyl did notice her though, raising a hand to call her over, “Ankira! You missed the show, Appius was busy getting frisky with a Gammorean beauty. At least I think it was a woman.. join us for drinks, meet some new peeps.”

“I am surrounded by children.” Hector thought to himself. With the extra strength pain medication working and a shot of vintage Corellian whiskey in his stomach he made his way over to the motley crew lounging in Mortuary. In his hands he held a bottle containing some of Clan Vizsla’s finest Tihaar. The Sith hoped the bottle of Mandalorian spirits would be an acceptable apology for the embarrassment he was told Appius suffered earlier. Walking over to the consul, he announced his presence. “Appius, my apologies for the incident which occurred earlier. The guards brought by the Ewok have been sent back to Tal space on one of our shuttles. I would like to grant you this as an apology. A bottle of Tihaar produced by our finest brewer.” He stated as he held the bottle out towards the Consul.

Teebu glared at the man, and then the bottle. “Really now? I am surprised they would not have notified the Supreme Chancellor that they were returning on another clan’s vessel. It would be a shame if our homeworld was unaware and opened fire upon it, you know. We wouldn’t want that to happen of course. Out of curiosity as well, why the kindness instead of letting them return to my ship from whence they came?”

“Interesting how you bring up the matters of etiquette and communication after marching armed men into a diplomatic meeting, assaulting your own Consul, and then allowing the men to wander the station freely in defiance of the orders given by said Consul. It is clear that you are either incompetent or untrustworthy. I was simply forced to expedite the matter. As for firing upon the ship, given the agreement our clans developed during the Cantontica meetings less than 2 weeks ago, I figured a diplomatic shuttle would be safe from retribution. Unless your men are not in the business of honoring agreements, Grand Admiral?”

“Of course they are, as long as the proper clearances are given.” he responded in kind. “Had we known, we could have easily let Kasiya know that a friendly shuttle is enroute. With our issues going on with the Children and false-flag identifications from a remnant force, we cannot be too careful. As for the guards, it was the Supreme Chancellors own order that he have round the clock guard even at private functions akin to Supreme Chancellor Vallorum. However, he seems to continuously forget about them. In those times, a firm…reminder…of why he needs them generally does the trick.”

“Also, I take it you did not search them as you say they were armed. The ones brought with were completely unarmed and part of the unit he has been having trained. The armed guards I did bring however, remain with my ship and no further into the station. If you would like, you can even verify they stand at the ship even now.”

“Therefore, I do apologize if they were lost in this awesome and amazing station.” he finally finished as he patted the crate next to him. “They have not yet learned the layouts of all vessels.”

“You once again pontificate the importance of communication and clearance but chose not to call ahead to either you consul or the hosts of this venue that you were bringing additional guardsmen. You disregard the very things you claim to value yet hide behind them when convenient. It is saddening to see that your character matches your stature Grand Admiral.”

Teebu raised his eyebrow before looking at Appius. “Did you not check your datapad?”

Appius looked down at him and pulled it from its pouch. He looked at it before looking at Hector. “…that would be my fault, actually. He did.”

Von looked over at the time stamp of the message. It was sent long after the incident, and a clear attempt of The Ewok to cover his failing.

“Rajhin, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. You okay over there?”

<@185939710005215232>

Teebu was quick to point to the day of the timestamp, which in Taldryan is reversed from the galactic month. It was actually sent one day before, right after Appius went missing.

“OK, gentlemen, I think that’s enough,” Appius intervened before things got a little too heated. It was almost laughable how much Hector dwarfed Teebu in sheer size. “We’ve clearly had communication problems which is what resulted in this. Hector, I appreciate you seeing our men off of the station. And we will all see to improve our communication efforts from here. If they are on their way home, then we can send a message to Kasiya, and there’s no further harm done.”

Rajhin turned to Corvis “Does this station have a fighting ring of some kind? A few friendly bouts between warriors would clear the tension”

“Agreed. At least we know the source of the miscommunication and it will be rectified in the future. As for me, I will notify next time as we arrive at the station that we have unarmed guards for our Supreme Chancellor when he comes here without them yet again. Not relaying it this time was on me, I will openly admit. Not checking his datapad…that is on him.”

“As I am sure this is not the last time you will escape from them…”

Teebu closed his eyes and bowed with the utmost motion of respect.

Von removed his helmet and gave Appius a respectful look. “I appreciate your attempts to keep things peaceful. I apologize for my inability to prevent such an incident. I had foreseen a small figure would be trouble but I assumed the shadowed figure I had seen was a Jawa. Now it is clear the Force had meant to warn me of the Ewok. I assume his remark about the time stamp was lunacy and lies meant to save his hide like much of the other words to exit its small, shivering lips. It is clear the Ewok has no respect for your own authority as Consul and Supreme Chancellor and no respect for the diplomatic venue it is attending. It will be allowed to bring an armed retinue in the future but given its incompetence in communication and managing the very men it insists on bringing they will be escorted to and from the premises. That should assuage the Ewok’s inability to trust the strength of it’s consul and ensure that the station is not threatened by guards wandering with impunity.”

“Truly, I am surprised that this Grand Admiral is an Ewok. It’s behaviors fit all the galactic stereotypes of Neimodians.”

Instead of giving him a response, Teebu simply stood by his leader. At this stage, it did not warrant it as he did not want to escalate things further. He would take the high ground.

Instead, he took the diplomatic route. “How about a drink then and fun discussions?”

After double-checking the timestamp, Appius could confirm it was true. “The timestamp is correct. Regardless a drink sounds…”

He stopped when he saw what he thought was… it had to be, the Force never lied to him. It was her, Ankira was here.

And she was walking right at him, he could feel the cold stare coming from her.

“Getting cosy with a Gammorean girl? What in Mando'a were you thinking? Or did only the smell of booze got to your head already?”

She was fighting herself not to slap him across his face, “Is this what you do on your ‘diplomatic’ missions?”

“…this is also why the guard is with him. Her orders. On that note, drink?” Teebu asks Hector as he motions to the bar before the next war begins.

Appius shuddered, not because of Ankira, but because memories were haunting and he’d feel much better if he never saw a Gammorean ever again.

“No. I was forced into it. You know me better than that. Id never do anything like that to you and you know it. I’ve barely drank anything, unlike Da….”

Appius suddenly noticed Darrio was missing from the bar.

“Ankira, have you seen Darrio?”

“Yes, he was leaving with someone and pointed me to you. He knows full well what will happen to him if that dika gets hurt.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that in the future, Teebu. There is a gammorean I have to discipline first. Or perhaps I’ll bring her to Ankira, that should be punishment enough.”

Overhearing the tongue lashing that Appius did not deserve Hector called the gammorean over. Perhaps a new target for Ankira’s ire would buy Appius a bit of breathing room.

Zxyl pointed Von to Korvis, “It was his idea.”

“He left with my nephew to steal my boss’s ship that I got here in. Frankly Darrio’s so drunk he might not even make it there.”

Ankira arched a brow and glanced towards the one calling the Gammorean over and to the one talking about Darrio.

“He is going to steal your boss’ ship? Is he trying to start another war between aliits?”

“Nah, just drunk,” she lightly chuckled. “It is Grand Master’s ship. I came out here to break a long sobriety, not deal with clan bantha osik. Would you kindly join us? Have not seen most of you since wedding.”

Ankira eyed Korvis suspiciously for a moment before sighing deeply.

“I need a good drink…” she said as she slowly took her helmet off, she still felt uneasy to do so in public. “I have been busy tending to our own dika. They can be quite a hand full,” she added with a soft smile.

Kaled tried to keep up with Darrio. Even stumbling a few times as he exited the bar.

The Miraluka wasn’t really sure what kind of the advanture he was getting himself into.

“So…what are we doing again?” He asked nervously, trying to keep up with Darrio.

“First things first, Karen.”

“Kaled…”

“We’re gonna head to the Docking Bay, steal the Grand Master’s ship, go for a joyride, bring it right back, and all whilst I tell you the finer qualities of flirting!”

Darrio, forcibly, dragged the young man down the Promenade towards the turbolifts. Once inside, Darrio began a lecture which may or may not have been appropriate.

Their kids could be a handful indeed, though the news of Darrio attempting something stupid again caught his attention. Grabbing the ire of the Grand Master of all people sounded like the perfect way to top off today.

Appius placed a hand on Ankira’s shoulder. “I gotta go stop Darrio before he does something stupid… again…”

“Wha-wait…Grand Master’s?!” Kaled was in shock. Is this really a good idea? Something about this plan gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, and yet the promise of knowing much about flirting was too good of a chance to pass.

The Miraluka changed his demeanor and stance to a more serious one. This time keeping up with Darrio as he walked beside him.

He didn’t really pay much attention to the begging of the lecture, but Kaled did think of a few ways to get them onto the ship.

“Just going upfront would not be wise, we need a plan. Sneaking on it would be difficult I presume so why don’t we make a little chaos? A distraction so we can use that to get to the ship without much problems.”

Teebu looked at his BB-8 which quickly rolled the large crate to his side.

“We’re with you, sir.” Teebu said as he looked up at him. “The last thing we want is the Grand Master’s ire over a Taldryan stealing one of his ships.”

Ankira frowned at Appius, “Are you sure you don’t need help? Last time he was more then a handful and now he isn’t alone.”

Thane audibly groaned, unable to keep it at bay as he was forced to rub his temple. He repeated the mantra ‘I’m not here, I hear nothing, I see nothing’ over and over again in his head, but that could only go so far. There was too much chaos going on around him.

“I say… We let them have their fun. They’re not likely to succeed anyways,” Zxyl smiled beneath his helmet, beaming with joy that the Mandalorian and Miraluka had actually gone ahead with the idea. It would be real fun, no doubt.

“Hey Korvis… Do you happen to have access to live feeds of the hangar and docking areas? We could throw it up on a big holo-screen, watch the action with some drinks and snacks.”

<@583854106599489557>

“Yes! Hundred times yes,” she emphatically agreed with Zxyl. Socks turned to Appius and pointed directly to a chair. “Sit. And order your lady a drink already. And one for me.” <@837236610684813342>

Teebu quickly followed the pair as fast as his waddling legs would allow, trying to convince them that this was a really really bad idea.

His BB-8 unit, still in its harness with the cart and crate, followed behind him.

“And I, for one, am not going to listen to someone who abandons his aliit because his ego is too big for his armor,” Appius directed his comment at Zxyl. Like he had any right to make a comment now. Regent of the Brotherhood be damned for all he cared right now. He then turned to Ankira, doing as Soccora suggested and placing a handful of credits on the table for Ankira to use if she wished. “Chances are this is going to be very embarrassing and stupid. It’s up to you, but I don’t blame you if you want to sit this one out. He’s not alone, but I know Darrio better than anyone, and I know how to get under his skin.”

With that, Appius left, following Teebu towards the turbolift.

Darrio smirked. He liked how the kid thought. “Got any ideas?”

“First, we can make a small scuffle. Use that to get to the ship. Anything will work, fights always go a long way. Second, riot. Although I am not sure how that will work. Next is probably… unconventional but we can lie that everyone is invited to the bar, all you can drink and Grand Master is paying. I heard those kinds of tactics work, just never there to actually see it in action. Or we can just…‘Hey Grand Master needs you. We will take care of it until you come back’. A bit direct but still could work.”

“Seeya, scrub!” Bes'uliik enthusiastically waved off Appius Wight before making his way to the bar, leaning on it ever so slightly while ordering a literal ordinance of snacks and drinks for the table. He turned his head enough so that he could look at Thane.

“You going to come over and watch the show? Should be starting any minute now.”

As his massive order arrived, Zxyl started ferrying all the food and alcohol back to the table - which was building up quite the crowd - not bothering to wait for a response from the Justicar of the Brotherhood. Zxyl mostly just wanted the man to know he knew the Elder was still there. But it would be nice if he came to watch, in any case.

“That might work…”

Darrio and Kaled approached the ship. The young men slightly red in the face after Darrio had gone over the finer points of female anatomy to the young Miraluka.

“Yo,” Darrio greeted some of the guards. “Kid here is Socorra’s apprentice. Needs something from the ship.”

“No-one gets onto the ship without the Grand Master’s permission.”

Darrio looked at Kaled and shrugged. “Not even if he were paying for an all you can drink at the Mortuary?”

Zxyl and the others seated in view of the “big screen” watched the interaction between Darrio, Kaled, and the Iron Legionnaires as it got underway - and as the two men’s first attempt immediately failed. They’d have to do better than that if they wanted Raj’s men to let them onboard, let alone steal the thing. The Regent had characteristically begun snacking on popcorn as the interaction carried on, fingers crossed that something hilarious would happen so the Dathomirian-Mandalorian could revel and enjoy the moment.

As Darrio - who the Reaver didn’t really like, but still could appreciate his boldness - made his second attempt, the tension was high. Would the men guarding the ship go for it? Would they decide that already enough was enough and shoo the Mandalorian and Miraluka away? Or would they just ignore them, waiting for the Grand Master’s Praetor to return so they could be free of it all and depart the station?

“My raptor-chomped armor is onboard, so they can’t crash it. Other than that I wouldn’t mind a small thrill for the kid,” Socorra answered with a hand wave. “He is very.. green.. to the galaxy.” Darrio however, knows better, she mused.

“Super tempting, not gonna lie.”

Caleb sipped his drink, remaining silent on the whole matter in his stoic way. The Togorian watched the screen, wondering how much trouble they were about to get into and how amusing it would be.

The guards looked at Darrio like he was on spice. Did they really think they were that unprofessional?

“Look, either move, or I’ll have no choice but too…”

The guard went to grab Darrio, but the Mandalorian acted on pure instinct and drunkenness. He took hold of the guards’ arm and bent it back, dislocating it, much to Kaled’s shock.

Still a bit in shock, Kaled used that confusion to close the distance between him and another guard.

Using his Echani training, he moved the guard’s arm to the side twisting it behind his back.

“Was this really necessary?” He asked Darrio before directing his attention to the guard he was holding. “Sorry sir. Just be still and let us on the ship.” He tightened the arm, making sure that man wasn’t going to doo anything drastic.

‘Damn it Taldryan.’ Hector Von Ricmore found himself thinking for the umpteenth time that day. He sat in the security section of the Station, as he held his face in his hands. Anger and despair roared within him. The Taldryanites thought it amusing to take a Dark Councilor’s ship for a joy ride. Had they forgotten how ruthless the council could be if irritated? Species purged, clan homeworlds obliterated from orbit. Activating his comm link the Sith instructed “I won’t reach the hangar in time at this point but we have a nearby response team. The 12 men and women are to move into the hangar and buy time; have your weapons set to stun and engage from a distance using jet packs. While they delay the joy ride the Shriek Hawk will move into position and activate its intedictor field. The nuisances may escape the hangar but they won’t be leaving this system via hyperspace.” The Vizsla soldiers left to fulfill the order. 12 men and women of various species, wearing Beskar and armored jet packs, and carrying Galaar-15 blasters in their hands and Beskar blades at their hips entered the hangar.

“Come on, then! Bring it o-”

Completely ignoring Kaled’s question, Darrio rose to the challenge. It could have been twelve or one-hundred and twenty for all he cared. He was having the time of his life right now.

Unfortunately, not being in the right state of mind or balance, he slipped down onto one knee, accidentally launching the mini rockets within his kneepad.

The rockets flew towards the dozen guardsmen. Jet packs activated as they tried to scatter. But none of them had expected the immediate escalation to lethal force at what was supposed to be a peace conference. Rockets detonated, sending guards tumbling to the hangar floor. One rocket curved upwards and slammed into the fuel line of a jetpack. The explosion ruptured the armor of the jetpack but the device remained intact with the exception of leaking fuel. Another rocket exploded and ignited the trail, covering the now shrieking guard in a torrent of flame. The guard fell to the floor as the smell of charred meat filled the hangar.

Kaled didn’t need the eyes to tell thet this situation, probably got out of hand. The detonation and the smell of charred meat turned his stomach inside out.

“Seriously?! Sir stay put!” Kaled said as he let go of the guard’s arm.

He quickly came to his senses, pulling out his lightsaber and letting the white blade howl as it came to life. The Miraluka quickly moved to Darrio’s side, trying to pull him up on his feat and acting as a sort of protection.

“Who are those guys?!”

Teebu stood there, completely aghast at what was unfolding before him. There was no chance of stopping this now, and he strode over two the two and looked at the fallen guard.

“I…think we need to leave now.” the Ewok said to the two as he turned around to look at them and gesture at the ship. At this stage, he was more worried about keeping the two of them alive. Even if they were caught on the ship, the punishment would likely be the same outcome for the two. So, why not at this stage.

The first thing Appius noticed was the smell. it was a smell he was familiar with, and he instinctively reached to grab his right shoulder. The charring, choking smell of burning flesh wafted throughout the hangar. Embers still flickered from the body, and Appius’ heart nearly dropped into his gut at the sight.

“I… think we need to leave now.”

Appius had heard Teebu. He’d heard him loud and clear. Yet, he wouldn’t listen. The Force registered the burning man as alive, fading, but alive. There was still a chance to save him, and save him he would.

Appius ran towards the downed Deathwatch Trooper, dropping to his knees by his side and placing his hands over him. The rest of the Deathwatch contingency aimed their weapons at him.

“Nice to see you all again too,” Appius said, being a former and founding Battleteqm Deathwatch leader in Vizsla back in the day. He removed his helmet, hoping some would recognise him. “Go ahead and shoot me if you want, but if you do, he will die.”

Glances were exchanged among them, but none pressed their triggers. Appius got to work, concentrating all his power on healing the most damaging of the burns if he even could.

Zxyl’s jaw just kinda… dropped as he watched everything unfolding in the hangar from the screen Korvis had setup in Thr Mortuary _. A piece of unchewed popcorn hung on the edge of his lips. Chewing it slowly, the Regent’s gaze flicked to the Justicar at the bar, before sweeping back over to his fellow Mando'ade and Consul of Clan Vizsla - leader of the man that was just severely _burned by rocket explosion.

The Dathomirian Mandalorian gestured with an outstretched hand towards the screen as he tried to gauge Korvis’ reaction to the events as they unfolded, “That’s not what I had in mind. Holy smokes!”

<@583854106599489557>

The Miraluka stod still beside Darrio, confused and concerned for the Deathwatch Trooper.

“I was not much for violence anyway.” Kaled said as he deactivated his lightsaber. “Stay here, I need to check up on him.” He let go of Darrio, dashing over to Appius who already started to heal the poor man. Kaled sensed his aura, weak but still present. That was good! More then good.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I am soooooo sorry! Just give me a second and everything will be fine.” He kneeled down besides Appius, using all of his energy and letting the Force flow through his finger tips.

“Sorry again. But listen, once you get better I’ll take you for a cup of… anything and some sweets ok? On me… just get better….Ashla I really hope this works.”

Tuuka took one last long swig of his beer before setting it down. Spinning on the bar stool, he placed his helmet back over his head and kept eyes on Korvis, waiting for instructions.

Bes'uliik rose to his feet as the glass shattered, putting another piece of popcorn into his mouth before donning his helmet and resealing it to his head, attaching the two airlines to the chin. Grabbing his Amban and securing it to his back, he looked down and the clearly angered Vizslan Consul.

Shit just got real.

“Shall we go?” he queried towards the tall as hell Mandalorian, who also rose to his feet without another immediate word. He returned Tuuka’s gaze, before motioning to the exit. The three men took long strides, making their way to the turbolifts and hangar decks.

Oh yeah, he’s pissed.

“Calm down,” Appius instructed to the Miraluka. Kaled, was it? “You can’t help if you are panicky and tense.”

Don’t get involved, Thane, the Justicar thought to himself. This volatile situation was of their own making. What a lovely bed for them to lie in.

Darrio was numb. shit just got real replayed over and over in his head. He was well and truly screwed. No amount of lawering from Ellisyn or relations to Appius was going to get him out of this.

Except, the ship. In the panic, it was left unguarded. Whilst no-one was looking, he entered the ship. There was still the bet he had to finish. At least he’d see to what he said he’d do. His pride as a Mandalorian demanded it.

Kaled nodded only nodded his head as he tried to calm himself down. Taking a deep breath, the Miraluka felt a bit calmer.

“Thank you…sir?” Now that he thought about it this person felt familiar. Was he one of the people in the Mortuary? “Sorry…Name is Kaled. I mean, my name is Kaled sir. Kaled Atros from Arcona.”

Socorra’s arctic eye stared at the screen with an impassive visage. The rockets, the silence, the glass shatter, all registered but all she was fully fixated on was Kaled. She could easily speak to him telepathically, and preferred so, but Korvis likely should hear her order. Her hand found her communicator.

“Kaled, heal the guard and break off. Only assist if you’re asked by Viz peeps otherwise stay the kark out of it. Don’t make me come down there.”

Socorra had already declared she wasn’t flying clan colors, but Kal… She silently sighed.

Appius overheard the comms, and the sudden look of nerves appearing on Kaled’s face. The young man was torn between wanting to help someone in need, and following his Master’s orders.

“It’s fine,” Appius said. “I can finish up. You’ve done great. The burns are just surface level now. He’ll live and make a full recovery. He just needs to get to a medbay.”

Kaled nodded lightly, stood, and backed away. It was then a hand clasped over his shoulder.

“Lesson number two, kid. We always finish what we started!” Darrio had re-emerged from the ship, grabbed Kaled and pulled him on board. Before Appius realised what was happening he heard a horrid whirring noise come from behind him. The ship’s engines had started.

Zxyl proceeded to Appius, who was still in the process of healing the Vizslan trooper and preoccupied as he poured his concentration into recouping the man’s vitality. Without hesitation and in one smooth motion, he pulled his blaster from its holster, and pressed it against the back of his fellow MandoBro’s neck.

Appius felt the pressure, and sighed.

“Continue what you’re doing, obvuously, but radio Darrio and tell him the joke is over. It’s gone too far, especially for a messily sum of credits. It ends now. If he tries to leave with that thing, Korvis is going to blow it to bits and it’ll be more than just a major inter-clan incident. Even if he escapes, not even Taldryan space would be safe for him.”

Appius wasn’t entirely sure if based on their last interaction Zxyl would actually go ahead with pulling the trigger, but the Dathomirian had a point and concurred. The joke had gone too far.

Korvis, Von, Tuuka, and a small group of additional Vizslan personnel joined them moments later, some blasters raised and others trying to tend to their fallen comrade.

“Eternal, should that vessel choose to detach you are to immediately disable it,” commanded the Regent into his comlink as he awaited Appius’ next move. While just slightly less on armament than most Corvettes, the Cosinga-class was substantially faster, and a couple well placed warheads could easily disable the fleeing vessel. As Regent, Bes'uliik could replace the Grand Master’s ship, but the situation was now greater than that. Darrio had taken a joke and made a mess of it, and he’d have to answer to the Vizslan Consul for it.

“Get that blaster off my neck,” Appius said. Under normal circumstances, there was no way Zxyl would come. Yet, these were not normal circumstances. The Regent reluctantly removed the blaster, but held it as his hip. One could never be too certain in his line of work.

Appius had just finished with the Vizsla Trooper, who’s eyes opened for tbe first time since catching fire. Appius staggered to his feet, and Zxyl instinctively caught him to keep him upright. After he realised what he’d done, he pushed Appius away from him.

“Darrio, that’s enough. This was all a bad joke. Cut off the engines, now!”

“And miss out on free credits? Hell no!”

Appius groaned, holding out his communicator to Zxyl. “Just tell him the deals off, and if he so much as thinks of leaving with that ship there will be no soul alive that can save him from the hell Ellisyn will spring upon him!”

Zxyl sighed, taking the communicator from the Son of Taldryan.

“Darrio, cease immediately. There are no credits if you depart after your actions. You’ll never make it more than a kilometer away from the station, and worse is punishing a young lad for your own recklessness. The joke’s over. Disembark, face your judgement like a man, before it comes knocking while you aren’t looking. There’s no honor in running away.”

After a few tense moments, the engines ceased, and silence swept over the hangar. Darrio emerged from the ship with a nervous looking Kaled in tow.

“Fine, but the kid’s not got any part in this. He goes free,” Darrio said.

Kaled’s knees were shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was before or after Darrio pulled him on the ship.

Just as Darrio finished taking, Kaled put his hand on his shoulder.

“No…No, no. Ammm, Sir if I could? The blame is not… completely his. Plans were mine, well for the most part, but that doesn’t change the fact that I participated.” As he spoke, Kaled’s head went down looking at the floor. He twisted his thumbs, looking as a guilty child more so then a younger man in his twenty’s.

“So…Ahhh, there is…no honor if…he gets all the blame…and I don’t? Friends share all the good and the bad…”

Kaled was starting to feel more like a son than a nephew and more like real family than the innocent, wayward kid that calls her Aunty. At least with a baby the environment could be controlled. This was more like herding nexu.

Socks peeled her eye from the holovid and swiftly departed the bar with a string of Mando'a-laced Old Corellian curses trailing in her wake all the way to the hangar.

Quietly the former Dark Councilor moved up next to Korvis whom she recalled with perfect clarity from a mission some time ago, as well as his dossier. The now-Praetor of course knew all of their dossiers, except for the guards, who were out of her purview, although she would know the injured one’s soon enough.

Socorra’s burn-scarred hands clasped behind her back, away from any visible, belted weapons. Although her impassive expression revealed nothing,there was almost pride in her pale eye at the youth standing tall, grinning ear to ear, and finally coming out of his shell. Of course it took someone extreme to do it.

“Son, come down from the ship,” she spoke clearly above the din of the gathered crowd, carefully crafting the Basic pronunciations to dim her exotic accent. The tone was not accusatory but far more serious and formal than he had ever heard from Aunty.

Next was Darrio. “Drunk or not, did you intend to carry this out with deadly force?”

The Mandalorian could suddenly feel her mind aggressively pressing on his as Socorra made herself known to him. It was not controlling nor harmful, yet, at least. But despite the laughs and eye rolls they had shared in the past year, clearly the Seeker would not tolerate a lie.

“No… I did not. Only maim or…”

“The look on Soccora’s face told him to take this seriously, as well as the suggestions inside his mind.

"I… slipped, and it activated the rockets in my kneepad,” as if to prove the point, Darrio tapped his knee with one hand. “The guards were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Ankira just shook her head and sighed heavily as she saw everything on the holovid. This was exactly what she was afraid of what would happen. Grabbing another glass of the drinks she downed it in one go.

“I guess I told you so is an understatement now…” she said more to herself than any of the ones that stayed behind.

She didn’t mind that, it was his business now and she was sure it would be theirs soon enough.

Teebu sighed, knowing the severe amount of paperwork that was now going to come his way. Appius hated doing paperwork, so much so that anything and everything fell to him to sign and process. Alas, it was time to drop his façade towards Vizsla he had been using to this point. He looked to his BB-8 droid and said something in Ewokese, the droid immediately turned away with the cart and out of the hangar bay.

Standing straight up, he strode with firm steps over towards several officers that were taking an assessment of the situation and began speaking to them.

Compared to earlier his demeanor and tone was far more strict and serious sounding as he began talking to some of the officers that were present regarding Darrio; a far cry from his previous self. Almost as if he were an entirely different Ewok all together.

He tapped his ear after finishing the conversation, dictating notes to it as it recorded him.

She slightly turned to Korvis with a side-long glance and lowered her voice.

“I would need more time but I am convinced enough that he only did a stupid. Darrio’s single brain cell is drunk enough that if he had any rockets left or stuck he could have launched them at us just now.”

“As for Kaled, he is my responsibility. I let him off my ship in the first place and I let him go with Darrio…to steal the ship. Originally I had anticipated some sort of Vizsla punishment for them once they were caught, as part of the bet entertainment. But if there are to be further repercussions after this unfortunate incident, then I will accept it in his stead, along with all supplies and repairs and the medical bills of the injured guard. I just request that Atros be allowed to return home safely.”

Zxyl rolled his eyes at Teebu’s attempts to negotiate and “smooth over” the situation, or whatever he was attempting to do. Accident or not, product of a joke or not, the Taldryan Mandalorian had committed what in most places amounted to an act of war. It wasn’t made better by the fact the man was Consul Appius Wight’s brother - probably worse. The Reaver was curious how the Vizslan Consul was going to respond to his actions, but based on the current situation, blasters trained seemed like a pretty good indicator - at least to the Dathomirian. No doubt Korvis would likely hold Besu'liik at least partially responsible for the offer of credits, joke or not….

That was fine. He could accept that, and whatever punishment - within reason - the Consul wanted to levi on him for a poor joke. His position insulated from harsher punishments, but not enough to avoid all repercussions should some be bestowed.

The heavily armored Mandalorian joined the Vizslans in the semi circle, raising his arm to put a hand on Korvis’ shoulder.

“Korvis,” the Regent started, “The boy didn’t do any real harm. The injury and damage wasn’t his fault. I think it’s safe to let him return with Socorra. She’ll dole out whatever punishment she deems necessary. If you have to, make her swear by the Creed.”

Zxyl wasn’t about to defend Darrio’s actions. There was no defense. Why would someone - especially a Mandalorian - wear faulty, weaponized armor? It was a recipe for disaster, even without a joke. Disregarding the carnage he caused and still attempting to steal the ship, over seven thousand and five hundred credits? Deliberate.

<@583854106599489557>

“You will need to furnish only half, Praetor.” Teebu said firmly as he came up to the group. “The Taldryan Republic will furnish the other half of all required repairs as well as medical billing. Given that half of the incidental party is ours.”

He looked at Darrio for a moment before dimming his eyes and lightly scratching his own chin for a moment in contemplation. “We wish the same for our compatriot, however I completely understand if Vizslan law requires further punishment and will honor any decision dictated on such matter. ”

Appius looked at Teebu mildly surprised. He would be willing to leave Darrio here? After the guards recovered, surely there would be further repercussions. “I don’t think that would be necessary, Grand Admi-”

Teebu looked at him and shook his head negatively. “We are in their space and their jurisdiction. Our laws and decisions have no power here. What happens to Darrio now, is entirely up to Consul Korvis and Vizsla.”

He lowered his head, fully understanding that. He knew that was the case. But Darrio was…no. Teebu was right. This wasn’t their matter to decide. What Darrio had done, was completely and absolutely inexcusable. And his punishment, in kind, would be decided by them.

“Socorra,” Besu'liik turned her attention to her, while she was there, “Could you ask your compatriots aboard the ship to ensure delivery of your armor to the Eternal? It is only a couple docking rings over. I will rework your armor immediately using the forge aboard. And I’ll fix this guy’s crispy armor while I’m at it,” he nodded as he pointed towards the crispy Mandalorian being healed to a stable state by the Taldryan Consul.

Zxyl departed without really waiting for an answer, making his way to the Exchange’s Cosinga-class Heavy Corvette. After this all this he was going to need a sizable drink, and luckily, Sundari Station’s establishment was one he was growing to like.

“Good luck Darrio!” Zxyl called with a quick wave of a hand in the air as he proceeded out of the current hangar’s docking area. He’d speak with Korvis later regarding his own punishment, if any, and sent him a private communication saying as such when he departed.

Socorra nodded to Zxyl and waited for him to leave. She turned to the Consul fully now, her long silver-white bangs passively concealing her missing eye.

“I have something appropriate in mind for Kaled, that you may even appreciate.”

Then she paused as her brain went into overdrive trying to fix the situation with no happy solution. His first use of her nickname at such an odd time was nagging at her too.

“It is how they say, not my nerf, not my farm. However, harming Darrio may very well cause a feud between your clans, the complete opposite of what I hoped might happen when I encouraged them to steal the ship. I realize there must be consequences, but would you be amenable to banishing Darrio instead of the most severe? Or something else appropriate that wouldn’t cause outright hostilities.”

Instead of sending Evant an entertaining holo of the heist, Socorra would have to give him a full report on this mess. And somehow explain how her one drink managed to nearly cause a three clan war or even just Tal and Viz. The woman was less worried about anger or resentment between Tal and Arc - as highly unfortunate as it would be to reestablish, as an old guard that feud was simply old hat by now.

She mentally cursed herself for attempting to socialize for once.

“Hey…amm, here. You can contact me if you need something. I’ll try to speak with them. And thank you, for the…information you have given me on.. flirting.” The Miraluka tapped Darrio’s shoulder, hoping to at least ease his mind up a bit.

He moved over to Socorra’s, bowing before taking his place beside her. Thinking back on the whole chaos that transpired, it was an honest mistake. But trying to ‘funish the bet’ was probably not a good idea. Sensing Socorra’s emotions, he could tell that she wasn’t happy. Not happy in the slightest.

“Crumbs..” Kaled commented to himself as he let others, more experienced, to talk and resolve this fiasco. And maybe the punishment he will receive would not be so hursh.

Darrio matched up towards Korvis. What alcohol remained in his system seemed to have been purged by sheer will and determination.

“The kid has done nothing wrong! You can’t…”

He was stopped in his advance by Appius, who grabbed hold of his wrist, and gave him a look that dared him to defy him.

“You’ve done enough damage. Don’t make it any worse.”

The words were simple, and looking around, Darrio could see the tense faces. Those holding blasters were ready to gun him down I’d he tried anything against the Vizsla Consul.

“Can’t you do anything?” Darrio asked. “Come on, Appi. You usually have a string you can pull or something.”

Ignoring the childhood nickname, Appius responded. “Not this time. You’ve gone too far.” Appius leaned in and whispered. “When Korvis is done with you, you had better hope I’m in a better mood. I have my own punishments for you.”

“What about Sulla, and Ellisyn? I cant just…”

“I’ll deal with that, now go.”

Appius let Darrio go, and reluctantly, tbe der Mandalorian held out his wrists to be cuffed.

The Aunty hugged Kaled and whispered to him as she slipped one of her concealed throwing knives into his clothes.

“Is for one night, you can do this. Keep head down and no talk too much. Mind own business. No accept anything offered to you. If someone hurts you,you use anything and everything to make sure you are last man standing. And under no circumstances are you to do anything Darrio says. Just…do complete karkin’ opposite.”

Socks slightly pulled away finally, holding him by the shoulders, and stared at his blindfold as if Kaled could see her expression.

“If they give you osik, you give them osik right back, okay? See ya tomorrow kiddo.”

Surprisingly, she reached up and affectionately ruffled his hair with a hand. Kaled wouldn’t know what and how much those words and the ruffle meant to the woman, so much more than a hug. No one still alive would know. Socorra slammed those emotions down faster than they surfaced and spun to Darrio. Her arctic eye was all the seeming of a glacial krayt and a dark malevolence carried her words to his mind.

His safety is on you. There is no threat or promise big enough for what I will permit if he is harmed by anyone.

Kaled nodded his head. His expression was one of concern and worry. Going to custody was not his main problem, leaving Socorra alone was. He grew attached to her, felling he couldn’t really put into word.

The Miraluka closed the distance between them hugging her from behind tightly.

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to be a good boy.” He whispered to Mandalorian’s ear. Kaled wanted that hug to last a bit longer, but eventually he managed to pull away. If he could cry, the Miraluka would have done it moments before.

He stepped forward, extending his hands waiting for the cuffs to be put on his wrists.

“B-bad language.” He commented out loud. “It doesn’t suit you Ava-Aunty.” There was a little shiver in his voice, and a small notion of smile appeared on his face. Trying to ease Socorra’s mind just a little.

Walking along on Sundari Station Ele couldn’t help feeling out of place. He hadn’t much experience with Mandalorian Culture aside from the few in Arcona. Walking along he could feel a familiar presence nearby, so he made his way into what he guessed by the smell of alcohol was a cantina of some kind.

As the Miraluke approached, he could hear the sounds of some kind of altercation happening.

“Oh, a bar brawl…how pleasant.”

But as he placed his hands on the door, he felt no anger or fighting emotion inside.

“A holovid, I suppose. Strange form of entertainment. But then again…they are Mandalorian. Fighting is in their hearts.”

Eleceos entered the Cantina and made his way to their familiar presence. It was the Togorian mate of his dear friend Mune.

“Caleb, well met, my friend.”

Ele say next to the Togorian and ordered a familiar Spiced Beverage.

Tuuka almost felt bad for the kid. Especially after he tried to undo Darrio’s mess by healing the soldier. Being new to the Brotherhood, it was starting to become clearly apparent the tension the clans held for each other.

At the moment Tuuka felt more like Vizslas Akk Dog, heeled by Korvis until he was able to discern which actions would and wouldn’t get him and Vizlsa into trouble.

Maybe Darrio should’ve acted the same. Tuuka thought to himself.

He watched Kaled intently, it seemed as if he was remorseful for his involvement in Darrio’s actions. Imprisonment seemed harsh, considering his actions after the fact. And that’s when he embraced the woman he kept calling his aunt. She was gorgeous, enthralling, and Tuuka was glad to have his gaze covered by the safety of his T visor helmet. The embrace seemed seemed innocent enough, until Tuuka noticed a slight twitch in her movements. Quickly the new Vizslan switched his view plate to infrared and saw the cold spot of durasteel in her hand that eventually snuck itself into Kaled’s clothing. He smirked.

Clever girl. He deserves it.

Caleb turned away from the view screen to bring those frigid eyes to bear on Eleceos. Of course, the Miraluka could not see the cold gaze nor the slight thawing of it. He knew Eleceos. Perhaps not well enough to consider him a friend yet, but definitely well enough to call him an ally and even a drinking companion. He knew that Mune had come to consider Eleceos one of his closest friends. He also knew he had been a big help to his mate.

The Togorian gentled his look and motioned to the seat beside him. “A pleasure to see you well, Eleceos.” To the bartender, he added, “Put his drink on my tab, will you.”

Ele tilted his head at the act of kindness, but he didn’t want to seem like he needed being taken care of. That had been his entire life.

“You don’t need to do that, Caleb. I am more than capable of paying for my own drink. I wouldn’t want to impose upon you like that.”

Ele had great respect for Mune and did not want to take advantage of his mates kindness and generosity. He was not entitled to it and didn’t want to burden others with his expenses.

“Don’t worry about it. The next round is on you.” He grinned.

“How did you come to find yourself so far from home?” He sipped his whiskey, enjoying the flavour of it on his tongue. He barely noticed the burn as it travelled down his throat. He was used to it, even savoured that delightful sear. “Socorra should be rejoining us shortly. Kaled looks to be destined to spend what I can assume is a night in the brig.”

The Togorian said it like it were nothing. The kid would be fine, it was just a night.

Eleceos rubbed his hair in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t paying attention, my mind was wandering. You know…picking up on people’s emotions and memories. Sometimes it just happens. Well…I got on the wrong transport vessel and ended up here. Felt some familiar presences and followed their energy here.”

Ele made a mental note to pay for the next round of drinks. When he heard about Kaled his composure changed.

“Is Kaled alright? He isn’t hurt or anything, is he?”

Caleb arched a brow, “If he were not, I’d have said so. Relax, Eleceos.”

“He made the error of being dragged along on the wrong fool’s ill-conceived venture.” He swirled his drink around in his glass, “Do not take a fool bet unless you know for a fact you will succeed and you will not get caught.”

Eleceos took a sip of his drink and let out a sigh of relief. He’d of hated to hear anything more negative of his friend.

“Some risks shouldn’t be taken. Hopefully he’ll learn that from this. I just worry about him. He’s basically family, you know?”

Caleb shook his head slowly, “I don’t know. My consists of Mune and, I suppose, Carr. I have never needed more than that. I suppose my family back on my homeworld, perhaps? Though I have been apart from them for some time.”

The Togorian thought about it for a moment, “Mune, they form familial bonds with people, like yourself. I am afraid I do not understand that need. I enjoy the friendships I have formed, but family?” He shrugged, “That is Mune.”

He frowned slightly into his drink. He thought of the Arconans he has spent time with, whether at socials or on the Voidbreaker II. Which of them did he actually consider friends. Hmm…

“I understand you better than you might think.” Ele smiled a bitter smile as he drank more. He set down his glass harder than normal as thoughts of his trip “home” surfaced. “For the longest time my only family was Atyiru. My parents, my siblings, my "family”…they were afraid of me. Of my power. They left me behind because they couldn’t handle me. They forgot me. So I chose to try to forget them. It’s a safer way to live. You’re heart and soul are shielded from harm. You’re protected from the pain of losing them.“

Ele took another drink and stayed silent for a second.

"But it’s also lonely. People like Atty, like Mune, they make it easier. They make that guarding feel so worth it. Until you lose them.”

Ele turned to Caleb and angled his face towards Caleb’s vision.

“When Atyiru was dead, I broke. The one light in my life was gone. I was dead right along with her. I learned that keeping myself blocked off from the love others can share was a mistake. If I hadn’t opened up my heart to the potential for family. Not for blood, blood doesn’t matter, but for your true family. The ones who accept you for you, no matter what. The ones who choose you. That’s when life is truly worth living.”

Ele smiled his wide smile. His teeth gleamed with his happiness as the air around him seemed to shift with his mood.

“I’m not saying that it is the same with you. Your life is your own and Mune’s. I’m just giving you my thoughts and experiences. Mune is special to me, and I will protect them with everything I have. And as you are the one they love, I will do the same for you Caleb. I view you both as members of my family. I don’t expect that to be reciprocal. Just know that I mean what I say.”

Caleb arched a brow, eyes taking in the Miraluka curiously. “I haven’t any doubt that you mean every word, Eleceos.”

Interesting…

The Togorian polished off the rest of his current drink before he spoke again. “Nothing so dramatic happened between myself and my family. I went to a military academy, was approached and recruited into an alternate… program.” He patted his helmet that sat on the counter beside his glass. “From there, I was recruited into special ops. My path took me away from Togoria. We talk on occasion. They’ve not met Mune, though I’ve made certain they’ve talked when the occasions arose.”

Being so far removed from his place of birth or his family did not affect him. It was life. That place where a family should be was filled by his mate and the addition of his mate’s sibling. It was like having one of his younger brothers around, he thought, with a bit of a smile.

He motioned to the bartender for a refill. “You and Mune have had far more tragic pasts, for certain.”

Ele gave Caleb a sincere smile.

“I like to belive that out pasts were what they were so that our futures can be filled with love and happiness. A bit…naive, to be sure. But having that kind of faith keeps me moving. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to. With all the challenges I’ve had to face, and am continuing to face, there has to be some comfort for me in the future, wouldn’t you agree?”

Darrio heard tbe warning loud and clear. A bead of sweat dropped down his brow, but he remained steady. He was Mandalorian, and he would not allow himself to be intimidated.

His arms were still out, waiting to be cuffed. He shot a quick glance to Kaled. It looked like the kid was his responsibility for the near future.

Teebu stood beside Appius, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the two prepare to be cuffed.

“It is time for us to return to Port Kasiya, Supreme Chancellor. We can continue these matters there,” Teebu said in a firm, solid commanding voice. With that said, he turned solidly around and began walking towards the hangar’s exit. He gave a nod to Korvis, his eyes closed as he did so before extending his paw for a handshake. “It has been a pleasure, Consul Korvis. We will be in contact regarding payment for damages and medical, and our external affairs department in regards to ensuring our comrades status while in your custody. I hope we can diplomatically resolve this amicably between us and continue to maintain the peace we have so much enjoyed.”

<@583854106599489557>

Caleb chuckled softly. It was not mocking, though coloured with some amusement, more it preluded a warm and teasing tone Eleceos may have heard him use with Mune repeatedly. “Interesting, from one whose mind can pierce the fog between the present and future.”

His drink was refilled and he sipped at it, the grin staying upon his muzzle. “Mune dances around how much they actually know. How much they see. I wonder, though. What is it you perceive when you cast yourself forward?” He avoided the word see.

Ele leaned back in his seat a bit. He tilted his head towards the ceiling and took in a deep breath.

“The future…is always in Flux. Ever-changing and violently twisting and turning. Getting a solid read on what will happen is not simple. And it can dangerously affect how you go about things. You might commit horrors to prevent what you saw only to cause something worse. It is not a toy to be needlessly played with, as Mune would attest to.”

Ele then turned back to Caleb, placing a gloved hand on the Togorian’s arm.

“But then again, it can be beauty as you’ve never before experienced. Would you like to see what I see?”

Caleb gave a light pat to the hand on his arm, “Thank you for offering, but no. I prefer what I see in the here and now and let come what may. I trust to Mune, to you, to our colleagues, that we will have each other’s back through all of it.”

He motioned with his head, “You’re falling behind; get drinking, kid.” Kid was said with a soft warmth, like an endearment term. The same warm tone he used when he spoke to Carr.

Ele scoffed a.bit at being called “kid”, though he was clearly not angered or annoyed by it. Picking up his drink, the Miraluka tilted his head back and drained the glass before ordering a second.

“I can handle my own.” He playfully quipped.

Caleb chuckled deeply, “Damned right, you can.”

He doubted there was any Arconan who couldn’t handle themself. He took a deep gulp from his glass. The heat of the alcohol in his belly was delightful.

“Teebu.”

His name spoken by Taldryan’s Supreme Chancellor caught tbe Ewok’s attention. Appius strode over to him.

“I have a few last minute things to take care of,” he said, and Appius could see the pensive look in Teebu’s face.

“You aren’t possibly considering breaking Darrio out, are you?” Teebu asked.

“Hell no!” Appius retorted. “Darrio caused enough damage. He’ll serve his sentence and then I’ll have him punished myself.”

“Drunken and disorderly behaviour. Attacking another Clan’s security force, and nearly starting an inter-clan incident. I agree, he needs to be punished further.”

“He embarrassed us,” Appius continued. “He embarrassed himself, me, and the Taldryan Republic as one of its Colonel’s in the military. Which is why, effective immediately…”

“He should be discharged,” Teebu finished.

“Exactly,” Appius said.

Teebu placed a paw under his chin. “That does present a problem of his adopted daughter. Under Republic Law, he now does not have a full time occupation. He could potentially lose guardianship. Might I suggest passing it over to his partner?”

“Ellisyn?” Appius asked.

Teebu gave a light nod. “Yes. She’s a lawyer in the city, is she not? She’s a perfect candidate. I can have that paperwork filed in tbe next twenty-four hours, as well as Darrio’s military discharge.”

“Then as you were, Teebu.” Appius was about to walk away when he stopped. “Oh, and Teebu? Next time we are in another Clan’s territory, dont bring the Senate guards.”

“With all due respect, sir. I wouldn’t have had to if you had informed the summit of where you were and what you were doing.”

Appius rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… I’ll work on that.”

Satisfied, Teebu offered his paw to Appius, who shook it gently. The Mandalorian then left Teebu to his own devices to settle a couple of loose ends.

“Korvis,” Appius addressee his fellow Mandobro. “Can I have a quick word? And don’t worry, I’m not trying to get Darrio out of this. The bastard deserves his punishment.”

Kaled wanted to at least thank Korvis before leaving, but as he heard the door closing Miraluka realized that the Mandalorian already left.

Tuning his head around, trying to sense his general surrounding’s, he decided to sit on the floor by the bed. A little meditation would always help clear his mind in the times of stress.

The Miraluka tried to recall every detail that happened. Thinking that if he stopped Darrio from the start this wouldn’t have happened. But unfortunately there was nothing he could do that can correct this mistake.

At least the cell is nice.

Socorra was still in the hangar and securing her armor onto a repulsorsled when Korvis came by. The beskar was uncharacteristically flattened, torn to pieces, or punctured in several places and heavily bloodied as a result.

She motioned away the guard assisting her as the Consul approached.

The woman was visibly surprised a bit. “Thank you, that is incredibly generous and our summit will of course hear.. mostly from him. Knowing Kal he is probably talking the guards’ ears off already and sharing the food. Just know there might be a riot over who gets to adopt him.”

She noted the glance at what was left of her family beskar and flapped a hand in the air. “Raptors, crystals, grenades. The usual…heh…not really.”

Appius glanced at the armor, a raised brow beforing offering a light joke. “What did you do? Throw yourself at them?”

Despite everything going on, Socks still had to chuckle a little at that.

“Sorta? I became chew toy and try to take stampede with me. Ruka no like that plan,” she smirked. “It is wild, but I think mega raptor teeth kept exploding crystal from finishing job. Somehow save both me and baby. Almost year of therapy and training all so I could wear for just one day…worth it.”

“Ruka… that’s a name I’ve not heard in a while…”

Appius thought back the the Dark Hall on Arx, and then Mos Kenny when they met again. It seemed no matter what they fidgeted, they were destined to conflict.

“Zxyl will fix that right up. I can attest to his handiwork,” Appius pointed at his armor. “Regardless of your taste, he’ll have that armor of yours raptor-proof in no time.”

After a moment, a little bit of information registered in Appius’ head. “Wait… baby!? You have a baby now!?”

“Still, I think that deserves a drink. What do you say, Korvis? Socorra?” Appius asked, gesturing to the both of them.

“Must be when he chastise and judge you for flinging lightning in cantina. Poor droids.” She raised a fist for a bump - that had been a good night.

Socks watched the realization dawn on Appi’s face and she smiled a little, nodding her head. “Precisely what I came here for.” The woman gestured to the guard to take the sled to Zxyl and she waited for Korvis’ response, with both hers and Appius’ intentional stares clearly indicating they wanted him to join. <@583854106599489557>

Eleceos aptly listened to Caleb’s stories. He kept a strong front though the more…graphic elements of the stories made him uneasy. Killing and bloodlust were things Eleceos had gleamed from his contact with others, but he himself had yet to inflict such brutality. That’s not to say he hadn’t killed, he just did so as painlessly as possible.

Had this been 3 years prior, the Miraluka would’ve been devastated by the stories. A benefit to Satsi’s training had been a hardened emotional shell.

“My stories of conflict are less…colorful than yours. I applaud your ability to complete your tasks though. I just haven’t had those types of fights. I tend to be at a distance with my bow, though that’s not to say my abilities with my lightsaber are lacking.”

Ele brought out his newly constructed lightsaber hilt. The exterior had been designed with the bark of a rare Force Sensitive tree, a gifted amount of Beskar, the bone of creature he’d been unable to save, and Golden Electrum.

“I will however tell you any story of mine that you may wish to hear.”

Caleb shook his head, “Do not get me wrong. If I can take a mark alive, contract permitting, I do my damndest to do so.”

The big Togorian’s eyes hardened, “Surviving at any cost though, is reason enough to kill if things turn nasty. Things so easily tend to in my line of work.” He tapped a claw on the bar top, eyeing the Miraluka “Did Mune or I tell you about this one time…”

And so he went off into another story. This one sounding far more in the stealthy side of things. From the sounds of his telling, it would have had to have taken place when they were both still on Seraph, and Mune was the director of the Imperial Scholae Intelligence. Though why Mune would take on a mission themself was questionable until it became clear there was some personal history with the location they were visiting.

Caleb emphasized a part where Mune, in their usual way, got distracted and walked into a hole. Apparently the village was planting new trees and there were a series of holes dug and Mune happens upon one. Mune things ensued.

“So here they are at the bottom of this hole when the guy we’re tracking happens upon the scene. Mune is impressively good at feigning innocence and had the guy believing we were passing through to visit the monastery up in the mountains. You know the one. Mune spent a hand full of years there.”

He goes on to tell how the guy actually helps Mune out of the hole. They’re all having a good laugh over the ridiculousness of the situation. “The guy obviously had no clue who we were.” He shakes his head, “I still have no clue if Mune purposefully walked into that hole or not.”

Eleceos laughed at the image of Mune falling into a hole and then tricking their mark. He would have to tease the Shistavanen about that later.

Caleb chuckled again, he knew Eleceos would enjoy that. “So, we end up at a tavern with the guy! Mune doing their thing, charming the guy. Me thinking I won’t even have to waste any ammunition. Then, of course, a bounty hunter walks on in!”

The Togorian growls, “Does not even waste time! Pulls out a blaster and fires on our mark.”

He goes on to describe the blast bolt dispersing across an invisible wall. How Mune did not even turn their muzzle from their conversation, but was giving some serious side glare at the bounty hunter. A bounty hunter who cursed and fired additional shots.

“He was not very good. He was so distracted I just walked up behind him and clocked him one. Turn out, our mark was being fingered for something he had nothing to do with.” He smirked, “Mune already knew, I am pretty sure. They just looked for every excuse possible to escape from their office back then. As you’ve noticed… they are not good at sitting still.”

Socorra walked backwards to coax them out of the hangar. “Good, I’m buying!” The thought of booze apparently lighting her mood, a spring sprung in the woman’s combat boots. Her long silver-white and raven mane threatened to lash the pair as she spun back around and she marched on mission to the watering hole again.

Her burn-scarred hand slammed down onto the bar counter with a cred stick under it.

“Everyone this time. More snacks!”

Upon returning to the bar. The first thing Appius did was be on the lookout for Zxyl. He could feel it, he knew he was here. Though that was easily overtaken when he locked eyes with the hulking beast of a Togorian, better known as Rajhin.

“So…” Appius said. “How many of you saw what happened?”

Thane’s ears twitched as he listened to the return and Appius’ open question. The Firrerreon swirled the dark amber liquid in his glass before taking a long swig, the liquid fire scorching down his throat. Was a much better way of responding without giving it too much attention.

Caleb turned their icey gaze on Appius. Hearing the question from where he sat the bar he thought of the screen. The better question may have been who had not seen what happened? He kept such unproductive comments to himself however . He did however glance at the other Togorian to whom the human had directed the question at to begin with. Perhaps curious how Rajhin would respond.

“Eleceos, you’re two drinks behind,” He absently commented to his Miraluka companion.

Rajhin’s amber eyes narrowed for a moment at the Consul, “Aye, I saw what happened,” he glanced over in Thane’s direction, “but it is not my place to dispense justice nor to meddle in a clan matter.” After pausing for dramatic effect his mood visibly lightened, “though if there are warriors around here still itching for action perhaps we could arrange a little contest.” The Togorian punctuated his sentence by drawing his arms to his core and flexing a bit.

Zxyl got to work on Socorra’s armor the moment it arrived at the Eternal, separating each piece across his work bench as he fired up the forge he had installed inside the Exchange flagship’s central vault. Because he could. The Dathomirian removed his helmet, taking a breath of fresh non-recycled air as he retrieved Smasher, his gravity hammer. The Regent got to work melting down the armor to start, setting aside the melted byproduct of each crumbled and ruined peace. Forging for Bes'uliik was a process, and he was obsessed with making sure everything went according to plan. Even the slightest imperfection, and Zxyl would restart. To him, perfection was the only avenue.

After the deconstruction of Socorra’s armor was complete, the Mandalorian technician re-melted the bars he had made, and began the actual forging process to create an armor she would be happy wearing. After each piece, measurements and angles were triple checked and the quality surveyed to make sure it met the Regent’s high standards. It was a painstaking process, but rather simple for him at this point - and he was faster than most. Nothing he couldn’t handle.

The Reaver worked continuously without a break until the armor was nearing completion, only occasionally taking a sip of the drink sitting on his main worktable. While one of the most important steps - actually fitting the armor to the wearer - couldn’t be completed without the Sith Warlord there, he was confident that someone in Clan Arcona would be able to complete the process for her should he not get the chance. He was looking forward to a return to The Mortuary and enjoying himself in a different way now that much of the stress from Darrio’s… endeavors… had been removed.

Darrio’s endeavours were not over. Not yet. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself from the cold, damp seclusion of his cell. It was tiny, little more than a duracrete rectangle. They didn’t even have the good graces to give him a ball to throw against the wall to pass the time. The nerve of them!

His thoughts, however, were distracted by the kid. He felt horrible about it. Darrio wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, no, that was Appius’ shtick. Darrio preffered to drown his emotions in drink when the situation called for it. Even so, he was guilty. He knew it, and so did everyone else. Kaled was roped into this because of him. He had to know if he was alright, but no matter how much he asked, no-one answered.

They probably delighted in his anguish, the frakkin’ sadists…

Yet, there were few things nobody knew about Darrio. Nobody, for instance, not Ellisyn, Appius, or anyone in the damn Brotherhood, knew that Darrio had once worked for the Collective. He hunted Force Users, and he was pretty damn good at it too. That training was rigorous, but it taught him valuable skills.

Skills such as, for example, how to break out of a cell.

All he had to do, was bide his time and wait for the right moment. He’d see his punishment through, but only when he knew Kaled was OK.