Chapter 16
A soft light coming from a small lamp in the corner casts a warm glow over a portion of the room. Athin sits quietly in a chair, leaning back as he rests in between consciousness and unconsciousness. In the bed nearby lies Anhiel, resting quietly with shallow breathing. It has been over a standard day since the last fit and she remained unconscious for the duration but no other incidents arose. Her chest rises and falls gently under the blankets as her head begins to move. The movement causes the resting Miraluka to sit up and look in her direction. To his relief, the woman’s aura remained calm as if the previous fit had not occurred. The woman grimaces as she begins to regain consciousness, muscles ache as they begin to move for the first time in over a standard day since her collapse. Athin leans forward in his seat a couple of feet from the bed and speaks in a gentle voice, “Easy, Master Anhiel. You have been out for quite some time and you took a nasty fall just before that. Your muscles must be sore.” The groan mixed with a growl clearly communicates the woman’s mood as she pulls herself up on the pillows and lies back. Athin moves to grab his communicator while speaking quietly, “I will let Master Rajvia know…” but the words are cut off by the quick movement of the woman’s right hand. “Not yet, please.” The words are soft, carrying a vulnerability that would be considered foreign for the woman. Blue eyes stare straight up at the ceiling as she takes several deep breaths to clear the fog of extended rest. After several moments she speaks softly, “I am broken.” A sting cuts through the Miraluka’s chest at the statement, “I would not say that. You have an injury from surviving an event most people would not survive. That fact alone is a testament to your strength.” The woman’s eyes remain unmoved as she sighs, masking the painful thoughts circulating in her mind. “You do not deserve him. You led the last one to their death.” The door slides open, revealing Rajavia as she enters the room, having sensed Anhiel stir from her quarters nearby. She offers a smile to Athin as she moves to the side of the bed and begins examining Anhiel. Athin rises quickly and bows lightly before exiting the room to give the women privacy, electing to go to the bridge to see Rend and Sun.
Rajavia sits on the edge of the bed, appraising the resting woman “How are you feeling, Master Anhiel?” The response is given in a flat tone, “Sore, but fine.” The healer nods several times as she looks over her friend and speaks in a somber tone “Anhiel, I suspect that a portion of your bond to Dulci remains and you are attempting to access it without knowing. When you do so, what remains lashes out and causes these fits.” Frustration paints the silver haired woman’s face as she replies, “Is it permanent?” Rajavia’s expression is enough of an answer as Anhiel growls again in frustration. The healer attempts to calm the woman “I have never seen this situation so I do not know. There are frustratingly few teachings on this type of issue.” Anhiel adopts a shielded gaze in an effort to mask the disappointment with herself in her voice, “Thank you, Rajavia. For coming here.” Rajavia smiles lightly, “Of course, my friend. I was glad to receive your call for aid.” Anhiel sighs once more, setting her jaw for what was to follow “I must ask you to return to the enclave once we arrive at our destination.” The slightly older woman looks at the other with a quizzical expression, “A great danger is coming and the enclave must go into hiding. I must tread a separate path and am leaving you in charge in my absence.” Rajavia moves to the retort, but decides against it knowing the conviction with which the Grandmaster makes decisions. Instead, she simply bows her head, “As you wish, Grandmaster.” The pair sit in silence for many long minutes until a nearby comm activates and a young ensign’s voice comes through, nervousness apparent in their words, “Admiral, we will be arriving at Nar Kaaga in the next standard hour.” Command returns to the woman’s voice as she responds, “Understood. I will be there shortly.” The comm link cuts and Anhiel moves to sit up, tightening the white robe around her frame as she does. Rajavia rises from the bed and bows, “I will give you some privacy to get ready, Grandmaster.” With that, she departs the room and closes the door behind her.
“Admiral!” The pair of guards shout as they jump to attention after the door to the bridge opens, revealing Anhiel clad in her armored robes. With confidence in her stride she enters the bridge, moving towards Rend and Sun who stand near the primary console at the center of the room. They both turn quickly as she approaches and bow low while Rend speaks, “Master, we are about to exit hyperspace.” She gives the slightest of nods in acknowledgement of the statement before she speaks in an even tone, “This is Hutt space. Anything can be found here but we must conduct ourselves in a different manner. The three of us will board the station and attempt to locate the underground dealers that will have the supplies we require.” A puzzled look adorns Sun’s face as she asks timidly, “Why aren’t we resupplying at a republic spaceport?” Anhiel’s response is matter-of-fact, as though the answer was common knowledge, “The scale of what is just beginning to assault the galaxy will tax the Republic’s supplies greater than the Great War did. There are other ways to get what we need without taking precious supplies from the Republic.” Without waiting for a response or additional questions, the Admiral continues, “We will go to the cantina and I will attempt to locate the information we require. You two will keep an eye on the area as I do. You never know what will happen in this type of environment.” The Admiral moves again with a sense of purpose, leaving the young Jedi in her wake as they grapple with the details of their new mission. Aboard the prepped shuttle, Anhiel settles into a seat as Sun and Rend climb the ramp, finding seats as well. The master and padawan duo look at each other apprehensively as the Admiral leans back, closing her eyes while the shuttle lifts off from the pad.
The sound of upbeat cantina music bounces throughout a dimly lit and lightly smoky atmosphere. Various species sit at the bar and various tables around the room, all enjoying an equally diverse selection of libations. A helmeted figure walked into the small sitting lounge. His armor is a dull gray metal color lacking any sheen or reflective surfaces. The weight of the armor is light but tough, designed for both stealth and rapid assault. A deep orange vizor along the protective shielding in his helmet is the only apparent color on the outfit. Attached to the back is a rocket pack which appears bulky with 3 exhaust vents arranged in a triangular fashion. Twin wrist weapons and controls with multiple functions reside on the forearms and auxiliary hardware on a bicep strap. For a foray into a cantina he is lightly equipped with a blaster pistol holstered on his right hip and a beskar steel impaling knife strapped to his left thigh. The Mandalorian made his way to the seating area, selecting a spot in the back section where he could survey the area without blindspots. A battered service droid approached the table but before it could address the lone individual, he waved it away. He was not here for any refreshments; he was looking for someone.
An hour or so passed without more than the standard cantina clientele coming and going until three hooded figures appeared in the doorway. Their arrival causes a slight pause across the cantina until they break into two different groups and move through the room. The leading individual heads straight for the bar, silver metal plates glistening from the front opening of the robes as heavy, purposeful footsteps radiate through the metal floor. The figure approaches the bar and removes their hood, revealing a woman's long silvery hair pulled back tightly and held off her shoulders. The tender approached the woman, “What’ll it be?” The woman scans the surrounding area as she addresses the Rodian “A Correllian Brandy, make it a double.” The bartender nodded and began to move away. The woman continued while he prepared her drink. “I am in need of some supplies as well. Where can I acquire various military surplus items? In particular, capital ship grade fuel, armored plating, the like.” The Rodian appraised her with a mildly skeptical look as he slid the drink to her but his skepticism broke under the weight of her icy gaze.
The other two hooded individuals find a small round table to sit at, located a dozen meters from the lone Mandalorian. They removed their hoods and started scanning the room as well, although their looks were more anxious than the steely gaze of their leader. The room is mostly filled with Mon Calamari sprinkled with others as well as humans. Small conversations can be heard throughout the room where the different groups are seemingly enjoying refreshments. A service droid approaches the previously hooded pair. In its wiry voice the droid screeches “Any refreshments for the couple?” The brown haired man replied, mostly masking the hesitation in his voice “I will have a Dorian Quill'' The droid turns slightly to the woman and inquires “and for the lady?” The younger woman with a small braid replies, “I will have the same as him.” As the droid strides away, the woman leans over and whispers “What exactly is a Dorian Quill?” The young man shrugged slightly, “No clue, I have heard Captain Jov’aine talk about it several times.” The silver haired woman approached the seated couple and spoke in an even tone as she took a pull from her glass, “I am going to scout the dealer that the Rodian told me about. You two stay here and monitor the area. I have a com with me should you need to reach me. It's only a few clicks east of our current location.” As she finishes, she also finishes the double pour of Correlian Brandy, leaving the empty glass on the table. “Yes, Grandmaster.” Rend responded softly, a surprised look on his face as he looked at the empty glass.
Anhiel replaced her hood and exited the establishment. Rend and Sun received their refreshments and continued to sit for several minutes. Sun nudged Rend, who sputtered slightly as he tried his beverage “Where did the Mandalorian go?” After coughing several times as the strong liquor went down, Rend looked around with a frown, “I didn’t see or sense him exit. I am going to warn Master Anhiel.” Rend opened his com and spoke softly, “Master… Master…” No response came and he closes the link and turns to Sun “Blast it, she isn’t responding.” He asked Sun to continue to watch the surroundings as he reached out through the Force, looking for Anhiel’s presence. “Nothing.” He sighed, frustrated. “She must have suppressed her presence.” Sun spoke smoothly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and lifting her glass. ”Master, she will be fine. If you are worried, let’s go find her. But if we leave our post without good reason, we will be the ones in danger once she finds out.” Rend offered a half smile before inclining his head, “Wiser words have never been said, Padawan. Let’s wait a bit longer at least.” With that, he raised his glass, taking a swig from it causing his face to contort slightly as the liquor slid down once more. Sun echoed the movement but grimaced less profoundly as the liquor went down. She offered a light sound of interest at the flavor. After about 10 more minutes, the couple laid down their payment and started their way east through the port.
The silvered haired Jedi made her way towards the dealer identified by the bartender, taking a non-direct route through different alleys and open shops. “There is something amiss” she thought to herself as she weaved through the stalls and people. She made several cuts and turns attempting to shake the feeling of being followed. Eventually, she slides between a large container and the wall and waits. A minute later, the Mandalorian from the cantina appears around a corner a dozen meters from the hidden Jedi. He moves cautiously down the small alleyway until the screech of a lightsaber startles the Mandalorian as he nearly walks into the purple blade. Anhiel steps out of the crevice and addresses him with a firm tone “I am not in need of a shadow. State your name and purpose for tailing me.” The Mandalorian replied in a mechanized voice, betraying no emotions, “I am Mirr Styn. I was scanning the planet when your ship dropped out of hyperspace. My ship’s log said it was a Centurion Class war ship and its particulars made it clear to me that it was the Shadow Redeemer.” He paused and stepped back a few steps as the blade was a little to close for his liking. “Continue!” Anhiel barked, impatiently asserting herself. Mirr continued, “There have been whispers that the Shadow Redeemer had been sighted in the outer rim territories and that General Anhiel had returned to command her. Your presence here seems to confirm those rumors. I only wished to speak with you, nothing more.”
Rend and Sun stumble upon the scene, breathing with a bit of effort from their run to catch up. Upon seeing the ignited lightsaber, Rend immediately draws his weapon but leaves it unignited while Sun stands still, stunned. “Master?” Rend quizzed Anhiel, “What is happening?” Impatience begins to turn into irritation as she replies, slightly narrowed eyes appraising the Mandalorian, ”It seems the details of our task force are not as secret as I would like. An even more perplexing question is why that would interest a lone Mandalorian?” She pauses a moment, maintaining her gaze on the man and position of the ignited blade in her right hand. “I do not sense the desire to dispatch Mr. Styn…. Yet. If you have heard whispers of our small enclave maybe you have heard other whispers.” The Mandalorian moved his head slightly in affirmation of the implied question. Anhiel retracted her weapon, holding the extinguished hilt tightly as she continued to question Mirr. She asks plainly “You stated that you wished to speak with me about something?” Mirr responds promptly as some of the rigidity in his stance dissipates, “I wish to join your enclave.” Rend and Sun stop abruptly in their movements to close the distance to the Grandmaster. In a flat tone, Anhiel responds “Knight Rend and I are the only members of the enclave present here. This is a Republic task force.” Mirr clears his throat gently as he turns his helmeted heads towards Rend a moment before answering in a matter-of-fact tone, “The dispatch states the ships were transferred to the ownership of a lone unnamed enclave. Your enclave.” Shock appears on the youngest faces present but the details are varied between the two. Rend’s features betray his blatant confusion at the information, the particulars of which were unknown to him until now. Sun’s features reveal a shock closer to terror as she interjects “How could you possibly know…” The words fall silent as Anhiel raises a hand, halting the shocked Padawan. After several moments Anhiel replied coolly “We do not have room for glory seeking mercenaries, no matter how well informed they are. I only accept people I can trust and I do not just trust anyone, especially a Mandalorian like yourself whose only care is for glory.” Mirr stood still, his contemplation unknown to the group and then replied “Then allow me to prove my worth, General.” The woman’s features betray no emotions, but the venom in her voice carries the validity of her words “You have your chance. Until then, you are our prisoner. Failure will end only in your death and it will be one without honor. That I promise you, Mandalorian.” Mirr inclines his helmeted head gently in confirmation.
Anhiel turns her eyes towards Rend, “General, please escort Mr. Styn to his ship and have the Shadow Redeemer prepare for your arrival.” The Mandalorian’s head moves ever so slightly and is noticed by the Admiral. “You are the current owner of the X-70B Phantom Class docked on the lower level, are you not?” The lack of response was answer enough, causing the woman to smirk before turning and striding away “I look forward to hearing the tale of how you came to acquire it.” Her steps fade away as she rounds the corner, continuing onto the dealer she learned of in the cantina. Rend stands nervously, maintaining a grip on the hilt of his saber, leaving it extinguished for now as he searched for the words to say. Before he can decide, Mirr turns towards him, unholstering his blaster and the beskar knife before holding them out towards the Jedi pair, hilt and grip pointed away from him. He speaks again in a mechanized voice, distorted through the mic in his helmet “I do not intend to flee or cause problems. My ship is not far.” Sun and Rend share an apprehensive glance before Sun steps forward, taking the weapons and stepping back quickly. Rend relaxes slightly before gesturing with the hilt of his weapon, “Lead on, Mr. Styn”.