The Ronin

An original story by Teo Kuusela, based on the Star Wars Saga created by George Lucas.

Special thanks go to Benjamin Bartle, for proofreading, editing and continued support.

and Jen Benkel, for proofreading, brainstorming and continued support.

Chapter I Old Allies and New Enemies

BWEE BWEE BWEE! [Approaching Empress Teta!] [Beginning planetary decent] A V-19 Torrent Starfighter appeared as a blur above a planet, on which rose an ecumenopolis rivaling that of Coruscant. It was a sleazy looking place by the flashing of lights that could be seen up all the way to the atmosphere. A perfect place to escape the past and hide from the future... A hiss sealed a suit of armor from the outside air as the starfighter plunged directly towards the planet. The ship began to shake violently and fire engulfed the vessel from all which way. The pilot could not see anything out of the cockpit dome, but he didn't need to. The attached astromech was handling the decent down through the atmosphere and on towards the lower levels of the city. Only a few days prior, the pilot had helped a Jedi General escape into anonymity and now he was one amongst many to be hunted down like a dog by his very own brethren; his own flesh and blood down to the genes. It just proves how unfair life can be at times. Outside the cockpit, the shadows started to grow darker as the fighter flew further down through gaps between buildings. Neon lights began to flash in a nearly hypnotic succession and a light shroud formed by mist and exhaust fumes enveloped the lower levels of Cinnagar. The airfoils of the starfighter folded up so the ship could land on a secluded opening between structures, a small way from the main street of the lower level. The cockpit dome opened and the pilot climbed out, arming himself and strapping his WESTAR rifle on his back and heading off while the astromech began defensive duties. Meanwhile, above the planet, a Venator-class Star Destroyer, freshly painted a dull Imperial gray, jumped out of Hyperspace and launched a dozen landing craft towards the planet. Without as much as a reason, the freshly promoted Stormtroopers landed on the city streets and took over the planetary government building while sending a small detachment to hunt down the fugitive clone responsible for treason in aiding the Jedi. Wearing bright white armor, the Stormtroopers looked an impressive sight when they began marching down the streets of Cinnagar. What was more impressive was when the Venator descended into planetary atmosphere, looming over the city like a great cloud, foretelling the dark times that would be following. The oppression, slavery, slaughter and racism that were to follow the Emperor's ultimate will. The Sith had truly taken over.

--- --Nobody cared about another armored man in the lower levels. Everyone seemed to be a mercenary, fugitive, gang member or bounty hunter. It was the perfect place for a Mandalorian to start his career in 'private enterprise'. And on Empress Teta, the perfect place to find a job was a shady old place in the lower parts of the lower level, run by a Hutt and backed by the Black Sun. To this old place of outlaws stepped a man in shining white armor. Right at the door, the guards challenged this man. "You can't bring weapons here" one of the guards said while his partner stood further back with a hand on a blaster rifle. Smiling within the helmet, the former Advanced Recon Commando drew his sidearm so he could give it to the guard as asked. He released from his possession most of his weapons as far as the guards could see. And by the time the guard had his hands full, the other was calling for backup to carry the weapons to a secure location. While the guard was occupied with the comlink, the armored man took action. Two blades unsheathed from the armored gloves with a sound and a strong electric buzz, indicating that two gauntlet vibroblades had been activated. The blades were no longer than 10cm, but could deal massive damage nonetheless due to the general sharpness, material used and the vibrating effect. The clone crossed his arms in front of him before slashing the first guard's throat, taking several rapid steps to the second guard and quickly slashing his throat as well. Just then, the first batch of guards entered from another room, drawing their blasters and opening fire. The clone grabbed the guard's blaster rifle and shot the few guards with precision kills while backing off to the first guard lying on the floor with his head cut halfway off from the neck. As the next batch of guards, alerted by the blaster fire, arrived to the door, they were better armed and opened fire immediately before even checking out their dead friends. The vocoder on the helmet filtered and let out a chuckling noise as the ARC trooper picked up his WESTAR blaster rifle, releasing an exact volley of fire in the direction of the guards that after a minute of exchanging fire were dropping down dead like their former friends. As the next guard came into view, a loud booming laughter echoed in the room, ending the firefight before it even started. "I like you, stranger. You amuse me. Come in. I wish to meet you" the Hutt called out through the speakers installed in the room. The trooper armed himself all over again before walking past the guards, his WESTAR in hand. With a cold attitude, he managed to even step on one Weequay guard's cold dead body on his way. During the days of the Clone Wars, the soldier had walked over enough bodies to not even notice it anymore. As the noise of a Hutt came more loud and booming, the trooper knew he was close. He turned a corner and through an open door, only to step in the middle of a large hall. On one side played a band while on the opposite end lay a huge,

ugly Hutt. The guards removed the safeties on their blasters all around the Hutt and the patrons within the hall turned to stare at the clone that walked straight in front of the Hutt and coldly stared at the ugly slug. "You have balls, clone" the Hutt laughed and the band stopped playing. "If that's the only reason why you called me further down this damned dump, I am disappointed of all the stories I'd heard about you slugs" the ARC trooper said calmly and some of the guards drew out their blasters, only to be interrupted by the Hutt's laughter. "I know why you are here. Others of you have come. All seek to do business. You are good business for me, clone. I will supply you with jobs, but before that I wish to know something. What do you call yourself?" the Hutt asked while stuffing something quite disgusting into his slimy mouth. "Jorso Ran" --- --- --"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" a mechanical call screamed within a large crowd stampeding everywhere while blaster fire lit up the dark streets brighter than the neon lights ever could. "He's getting away!" another shout, followed by further blaster shots and then the clacking of plastoid armors as a group of white-clad people ran down the busy streets. Quietly, a figure watched as a squad of Stormtroopers passed and alley, running loudly after something comparable to a ghost down on these streets. These troopers couldn't be allowed to live, however. Their report would bring a whole damn legion down to the lower levels while their disappearance would be barely investigated knowing the worth the troopers held in the Empire. So the figure moved on to the main street and rushed forwards to the trap waiting for them. "Where did he go?" a trooper questioned as the squad ended up in a blocked passageway between two buildings that would've otherwise led towards the access of the level below the one they were currently on. "Blow it up" the sergeant of the squad said and stared at the old rubble pile blocking their way. As the Stormtroopers started to set up charges on the blockage, a figure stepped towards them from between columns of steam. The lookout was about to call out when a sharp blue light pierced the darkness and a loud blast echoed in the passage. The other Stormtroopers grabbed their blasters, only to find nothing there. The sergeant ordered two troopers to go check it out while the rest covered their backs. Unfortunately, the troopers forgot to look up. Hanging on a wire, which was firmly attached to one of the walls, an ARC trooper aimed his WESTAR blaster rifle. Two shots later, the Stormtroopers slumped down while the

clone released the wire's locking mechanism, descending rapidly to ground level with a loud whirr. "Drop it!" the Stormtrooper sergeant called out to the ARC, who calmly took aim at the troopers surrounding the sergeant. "You first Sergeant. You know you're not going to survive this" the ARC trooper said calmly while watching them. "I said drop it, or we'll make you drop it" the sergeant continued and the Stormtroopers formed a line in front of him, taking aim at the rogue clone. "You can try" Alpha-48 grumbled before clicking the rifle's firing setting to semiauto and squeezing the trigger lightly. The passageway's atmosphere was tenser than possibly ever before. The standoff had to take minutes as the ARC and Stormtroopers stared at each others with weapons aimed with great precision. Without orders, one of the Stormtroopers' nerves gave out and he shot first, only to be picked up by the ARC's blaster fire that also took out the trooper next to the nervous shinie. The rest of the squad opened fire with the exception of the sergeant who calmly watched and readied his blaster. One by one the Stormtroopers fell while the blasts they shot were easily avoided by the experienced ARC trooper who kept himself a moving target. Eventually, the last ones left were the Sergeant and the ARC trooper. "Damn you ARCs. I always knew you guys were nothing but trouble" the sergeant said and brandished surprisingly a vibroknife, placing his blaster aside for this battle. "No. You knew we'd be loyal to the Republic. You knew that wed be loyal to the Mandalorian way. And most of all, loyal to ourselves" the ARC said, following suit and putting the WESTAR-M5 rifle aside and unsheathing the two gauntlet vibroblades. The two troopers got in range and circled each others for a short while. The stare down was intense and broken only by the final clash between these two veteran soldiers. The ARC lunged forwards, swinging his left gauntlet vibroblade towards the neck area of the Stormtrooper, only to be parried by the sergeant and followed by a counterattack which was just as easily blocked by the free blade. Alpha-48 grabbed the arm holding the knife and twisted it until a pop echoed in the passage, indicating the arm was out of business. The knife clanked as it hit the ground and the sergeant groaned in pain. The Advanced Recon Commando finished the matter by pulling the sergeant off balance and stabbing one of his extended blades straight through the neck of the trooper. Sighing, Alpha-48 knelt down by the sergeant and pulled the helmet off, notably without pressing a safety button on the side that would leave any recorded data intact from this mission. As so, the records were deleted and any inquiries made wouldn't hopefully lead to an ARC in the lower levels. As Jorso removed the

helmet, he stared at the face that came from under it. It was like staring in the mirror, which somewhat shook the man within the ARC armor. The T-shaped visor stared at the spitting image of Jango Fett for over a minute, mourning the loss that was caused by his own hands. Although an enemy to one another, they were still brothers. It was a life-changing experience; one of many. --- --- --A T-shaped visor watched the massacre of the Stormtrooper patrol with great interest. As the ARC trooper stood up and dropped the Sergeant's helmet, a smug laughter echoed inside the helmet prior to a loud noise of rockets lifted him off the small platform and on towards the higher levels. As the ARC lifted his head to see what the noise was, his rangefinder picked up the jetpack's heat immediately and started tracking and zooming, showing to the person who was observing his actions. All he could identify was what seemed like a Mandalorian armor which bore no identifying symbols or anything of the sort. The glare of the rockets and the increasing distance obscured the rest to the point where the ARC shrugged it off and returned to his own matters. Jorso disarmed the charges the Stormtroopers had set and took them with him along with any ammunition the troopers carried. Even one of the DC-15 blaster rifles managed to tag along for the ride back to the ARC's hideout, secured for him by none other but the friendly neighborhood Hutt. The trooper knew the place was heavily bugged, which was no matter since he rarely spoke to himself in any case and even more rarely had any visitors. The most talking that he did was throwing quips during firefights and when he was visiting a nearby cantina for refreshments. He could bet this angered the Hutt who wanted something to hold over every mercenary of his, but that was the whole point in it. --- --- --"What happened out there?" an Imperial officer asked, leaning against his desk and staring at the T-visor of a bounty hunter the Empire had brought in to track down rebellious ARC troopers. "Well" an alluring female voice responded, giggling slightly. "You've lost a patrol on level 62" "And assuming from the fact that you're the one saying this, it was an ARC trooper, am I right?" the officer questioned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes. One from the Alpha batch, I believe. His posture, fighting style and demeanor is much more refined and strict than that of the Nulls" the female voice continued, followed by a hiss as the woman removed the helmet. The Imperial officer was not the least surprised by the woman's appearance. The Twi'lek lekku had their own special customizations in the helmet and the entire body shape of the woman and her personality gave way to being a Rutian Twi'lek, or in other words of the blue-skinned variety. The armor was much more revealing than normal Mandalorian armor, but somehow it still managed to

provide nearly as much protection, especially with the belt-mounted personal shield she wore at all times. "Lord Vader has relayed orders for me to give you any help you need. Apparently, it would prove less than useful for the Empire's public image if its own soldiers started to fight back and succeed in hampering our efforts especially in the Deep Core. So, what's the plan?" the Imperial officer asked and looked at the bright Twi'lek eyes staring back at him. "You do what you have to. But leave the clone to me" the Bounty Hunter said with a giggle and a wink at the officer. A sleazy move, but not one the Twi'lek shunned using if it paid off on the long run. "Sure, miss Ankia" the officer said a bit light-headed as he watched the woman stand up and walk off towards the door. As the door closed, the officer snapped out of it and shook his head violently. "Damn. She did it again" --- --- --Sitting at the cantina was something Jorso had grown to find relaxing. The streets were busy with people who might recognize his armor and start blasting, screaming or calling for the local garrison. The cantina wasn't like that. In the cantina nobody cared who the other was unless they invaded their small piece of privacy in the dark excuse of a dump. It was a place where he could forget his past and just concentrate on whatever he at that very moment wanted to concentrate upon. He could sit there with his helmet on the table and weapons safely in their holsters without the danger of someone coming and shooting at his vulnerable head or trying to gas him. Who knows for what reason that was, though. Usually the cantinas were quite the opposite for anyone who seemed even a bit distracted. This time the trooper was interrupted, though. As he was observing his next mission from the Hutt, which happened to unfortunately be a simple thug job, he sensed someone staring at him. The two eyes boring into him were a distraction he did not need and as so the trooper turned to see who was staring at him. Next to Jorso sat one of the most beautiful women he had seen. A Twi'lek, yet still a beautiful woman in every fashion of the word. She wore simple, but revealing clothes not unlike most Twi'leks and her blue-skinned figure poked out like no other. "May I help you?" the ARC asked finally, as the Twi'lek kept staring at him. "Oh, sorry. I was completely in my own little world" the woman giggled and took a sip of her drink before looking back. "I wasn't staring you too intensely, was I?" she asked with a light blush. "Actually, it was a bit distracting" the trooper said, but before he could finish the woman poked out a hand.

"I'm Koy Ankia, nice to meet you. You must be a Mandalorian. I've always figured Mandalorians were as handsome as you" the woman said and smiled, like luring him into her trap. He fell for it. "Eh... You could say I am Mandalorian. Jorso, Jorso Ran" he said and shook her hand. The soft skin was too much for him. After a moment of talking at the cantina, the two were off. They barely got out the door and onto the alleyway before they were all over each others. The Jango Fett clone and the Twi'lek woman continued on to a nearby hotel, since the ARC didn't want his apartment to be used for such matters. Especially with all those bugs. As soon as the two got into the room, the clone was out of his armor and the two were rolling around the bed in passion. The two entwined together like a pair of vines in a hurricane. Hours passed, but outside the darkness neither lifted nor deepened with day and night. They were too deep down for that. Through the windows the flashing lights of the street outside lit the room in varying colors from purple to green and clear yellow. Inside they needed no light for what they were doing. It followed its own path. The clone fell asleep eventually, tired out by the Twi'lek and her superior command of her muscular system and overall stamina. The clone was not used to this kind of wrestling that was for sure. This was when the betrayal fell upon the ARC trooper. The trap was set and he had plunged into it like a fool. And now, the trap closed around him. During his sleep, Koy was tampering with the ARC trooper armor. She placed a tracker into the armor, sabotaged the rangefinder and messed with the HUD to show false values of the data usually given to the clone. It should get him killed one way or another and if it didn't, she would know where to find the man in order to finish the job. --- --- --Jorso sat up and looked around the room, his memory a bit fuzzy about what had happened the previous night and where exactly they were, but not due to alcohol. It was the pure heat he had been in during the trip there that had left a blank page in the otherwise clear book of what was yesterday. The beeping of his comlink had woken the clone up and now he rushed for it. As he answered, he left visual off and heard only the voice of a droid. "The respected Varla the Hutt requests your immediate presence in the previously set address for the completion of your assignment" the droid said and shut the comlink off before the clone could respond. With a chuckle, the ARC dressed in his armor and due to the hurry failed to check his armors condition. Rushing off, he left through the back door and skipped through a shortcut. Somewhere above a pair of clear eyes observed through a T-shaped visor and inside the helmet, a giggle emitted from the lips of a beautiful humanoid.

--- --- --A building loomed ahead as dark as the night in the caves of Dantooine. It wasn't what one would just wander into and that suited those inside just fine. In fact, they had pretty much fortified themselves inside the building, fearing the wrath of the local Hutt, who they owed a great sum of money. And after all this time owing that great of a sum meant that they would be losing their lives and not in a particularly painless fashion. Those in charge of the group were meant to be for the personal amusement of the Hutt, but the rest were not worth the effort of being dragged in front of the crime lord. The lookout of the small group was standing quietly outside, twirling a death stick in his left hand and shaking slightly due to the addiction as well as the cold weather. He didn't hear anything that was going on around him, just focusing on the death stick in his hand. This was his first mistake. The lookout snickered and opened the death stick with a sure hand before raising it to his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself in order to pour the insides into his mouth. His amazement was great when suddenly something hit his hand, plunging the stick into his mouth and through his palate. His eyes opened wide in shock of what had happened. The man looked at the figure standing in front of him with a pleading look in his eyes before dropping on the ground. The death stick had penetrated deep enough to lodge into the brains in a not so gentle and safe manner. "You shouldn't use death sticks, kid. They'll kill you" the figure said, his voice filtered through a vocoder. The clone then stepped forth to the front door of the building and set a breaching charge. Drawing his commando pistols, the trooper stepped back and smirked before pushing the button on the remote, blowing the entrance to dust. The people inside were no doubt shocked and scrambling for their guns, so the ARC trooper entered, his akimbo blasters ready in his hands, his fingers on the triggers and ready to shoot. The smoke cleared and the clone rushed in, shooting the first men in the room before receiving opposing fire from the others. The room was cleared fairly swiftly, leaving as many people dead as had been there when the clone entered. As so the clone was free to enter further into the building. --- --- --The blaster fire from the front entrance was very clearly heard deeper in the building. Men were rushing to meet the enemy with blasters of varying sorts. The men defending the deeper parts of the building even had an E-web blaster set up, but nothing seemed to stop the white-dressed devil from coming at the leaders of this group like the grim reaper himself. "What the hell are we going to do?" a Weequay man asked from the four others, who were already preparing their things for a swift departure.

"The Hutt will never relent. We need to get out as soon as possible. We need to get off this damned rock" one of the humans said while stuffing anything important or valuable to him in a large bag. "I can second that one. Let's get to the ship and get out before they finish us off" a Twi'lek said in the group while already rushing for the back door which led a few levels up and onto a landing platform. The five men of varying species rushed out just as the last line of defense was regrouping in the room and survivors were rushing in screaming for everyone to run for their lives. The men sealed the door behind them and pressed the turbolift button to go up a few levels. Just as the turbolift nudged from its position to head upwards, the sound of blasters echoed from behind the turbolift door. Their end was drawing nearer and they could hear the white hand of retribution banging against their last hope for escape. As the turbolift started making good way up the building levels, the men sighed a bit in relief, although it was too early for it by far. Below them, the turbolift door blew open and the ARC trooper peered upwards before laughing at the simplicity of some of the jobs he had to do. He launched a wire up at the turbolift, which clamped on and pulled the ARC with the lift along with the wire itself being rewound so the ARC actually gained on the turbolift with a good speed. By the time the turbolift stopped, the ARC had reached the bottom and jumped on to an access hatch which led to the same landing pad where the men were heading, albeit with a detour along the way. --- --- --The access hatch on the landing platform opened and out jumped the ARC trooper, looking at a slowly lifting off transport. He attached a grenade launcher to his WESTAR and took aim, slowly and surely trusting on his rangefinder to find a good spot for the shot. As he fired, the ship was turning and as he watched the grenade fly, he knew something was off. He quickly put his rifle back behind his back and rushed for the edge of the landing platform. Behind him, the ship exploded and shot huge pieces of shrapnel all over the landing platform. One of the huge chunks of outer hull hit the clone just as he was ducking on the edge of the platform, thus taking him over the side. The ARC looked down through his visor, seeing only darkness slowly enveloping his surroundings. Knowing full well what kind of a splat would follow once he hit the ground, he took his wire once more and began the attempts at hooking onto something that could ease him down a bit slower. The grapple managed to slip every time and if the clone could deduce from the level of darkness how close he was to ground, he was very near to a certain death. Just then, the grapple managed to latch on to who knows what, releasing wire enough and at a slow enough pace to slow him down before hitting ground. By the time the wire ran out and Jorso was sweating heavily of anxiety, he finally stopped and hung just a few feet off the ground. The man sighed heavily and went limp, only to find something staring back at him as he leaned his head back. He had heard of weird things living down on the lowest levels of any

ecumenopolis, but who knows what kind of life he had found this time. Frankly, he didn't want to know either. --- --- --Everything's gone black. I can't see anything. Where am I? What's going on? "Trooper! Get up already!" a voice called out from the darkness. A hand touched the plastoid armor and shook the clone forcefully in order to have the clone open his eyes. Once open, the eyes stared at a glowing object in front of him. The slim object gave out a clear and distinct hum which increased in volume as it was moved in the space around them. The clone's visor turned to the hand keeping a hold on this object and followed it up to the face of his current commanding officer; Jedi General Windu. The clone shrugged his dazed state away and stood up carefully. Something had knocked him out, but he had no recollection of what it was. "Sorry, sir. We should move on" Alpha-48 said and Windu nodded in agreement. "Take your squad and go around the facility. Take out any staging areas you may find in your path. And trooper, may the Force be with you" Mace Windu stated before rushing onwards, leaving the still a bit dazed clone standing with his squad. "Alright, let's move out then" the ARC said and started jogging onwards to the other side of the structure. Yet whatever he did, he could not remember his standing orders. They were in his mind, yes, but elusive and unreachable I must be dreaming... A bright flash of blue and white flooded his view. Everything went black and blood dripped down the visor. A panicked scream pierced the air and the face of a dead clone flashed in front of the visor like a spotlight had just flashed on the corpse. Jorso heard a strange voice whispering in his head something he couldn't understand. The corpse flashed into view once more, but this time there was naught one but a whole battalion of dead clones packed in a small, piercingly white corridor. The clones were strangely equipped. Their helmets were weird shaped, resembling those of the Phase II armor but more menacing in looks as well as larger. Their armor was no longer the same shade of white and bore no markings by which they could be identified with. Another scream, but this time multiplied in numbers into tens at one time. The voice began to whisper once more. This time he could hear it. It was his own

voice, speaking without his lips moving. "Fear. Fear attracts the fearful; the strong; the weak; the innocent; the corrupt. Fear. Fear is my ally" He opened his eyes once more as his head hit something quite roughly. His eyes flashed open and saw the lowest levels of Cinnagar looming upside-down in front of him with some sort of humanoid carrying him. As he glanced up, he saw his hands tied around a pole which wobbled as the humanoid stepped. Everything went black... --- --- --The clone woke up, alarmed by his brain that told him he was falling rapidly forwards. His eyes flashed open just in time to see the ground mere inches away from his head and to hear the thud that his body made as it hit the ground. He couldnt brace the fall with his hands nor could he attempt to stand up once down. As the clone squirmed, he felt a tight rope holding his arms together and despite his best attempts he could not look up at who was his keeper. Then, a strong grip took hold of his short hair, pulling the ARC troopers head up. The helpless victim was forced to tilt his head back and grunted loudly as a large transparisteel window loomed in front of him. Behind the clones back, something chuckled in a loud booming voice and the hold on the hair was lost, causing the clone to smack his head once more against the floor of what seemed like a large office from his point of view. You ARC troopers were always foolish to believe you had a choice or a say in matters. You were soldiers from the day you were released from your cloning pods. My soldiers a laugh cackled behind the trooper, who was kicked around to his back. A holographic image stared at the helpless clone and besides this figure loomed a large man clad in a deeper black than even the deep space. It was like a hollow spot in the room, lost in time and space and removed from this Galaxy. An intimidating figure Jorso had seen only once before. Lord Vader! the holographic image said and the dark figure bowed silently. Take care that this soldier of fortune never disobeys our orders again. As for you, my dear bounty hunter, you will be very handsomely paid for supplying our lost clone back to us the hologram said and dissipated. The large black figure stood back up and stepped towards the helpless ARC, even though its large eyes stared beyond and towards something standing against the window. As the clone attempted to see who was behind his view, a boot came down on his shoulder, causing a sharp pain which stopped any attempts at identifying the bounty hunter. I want my money before noon, Vader a defiant and feminine mechanical voice said and the Dark Lord nodded.

You will be rewarded, Mandalorian. In due time and when we are sure this one will stay in our hold after you get paid the Sith Lord said and lowered his dark eyes to see the clone before his feet. Take him away the dark booming voice said within the helmet and two clones approached from both sides of the ARCs view, grasping his shoulder and dragging him off towards the door. --- --- --Darkness surrounded Jorso Ran, only the shine of the containment field engulfing his body shone some light into the pitch black jail cell. The darkness wasnt bad, nor was the loneliness, but the silence of it all started to get on the ARC trooper little by little. He tried to amuse himself by whistling or humming some tune or the other, but shortly thereafter was forced to stop as his mouth got dry. Dry as sand in the middle of Tatooines great deserts. The trooper knew exactly where he was and had a clue as to how he would be getting out if he got the chance, but for now his objective was to try and piece together a reason for the Empire to take him so nicely in one piece instead of blowing him to smithereens on the first chance they got. One horrible choice he did figure out; slavery. But if the Imperial Senate had any integrity left it would surely deny the Emperor of such labor force, wouldnt it? --- --- --In the depths of Cinnagar, the hidden V-19 Torrent starfighter woke up from its slumber as the signal of its owners transmitter began fading away from the planet. The droid in control of the fighter knew its master would not like to be without a means of travel in the case someone decided to dump him on a remote planet and so began to prepare the fighter for a trip after the owners transmitting signal. It was a wise move on the droids part, especially since this was one thing the ARC was counting on in order to get off the dungeon ship in one piece. Without a means of travel away from the dungeon ship, his escape would be extremely short-lived. While the ARC was travelling through hyperspace at amazing speeds, the V-19 Torrent starfighter lifted off the lower levels of Cinnagar and headed directly up with its engines booming loudly at the crowd beneath. Stormtroopers watched the ship lift off, but paid not much heed to it since it left off from the area where a Hutt happened to be running things. And of course, the local garrison was well paid to look the other way when odd ships came and went from the Hutts turf. Without even an effort to be shot down, the droid piloted the starfighter into position above the planets orbit and launched into hyperspace in chase of its owners signal. Fortunately it even had a chance to catch up due to the huge difference in hyperspace speeds between the huge bulky dungeon ship and the slim and sleek starfighter. --- --- ---

Awwh Was my dear sweet Mandalorian caught and locked up? a womans voice called out form the darkness. Although the ARC peered into the black surroundings, he could not see any kind of figure anywhere. Jorso shuddered when the woman called him Mandalorian. Not because of what she said but how she said it, for the word was filled with spite and anger. I am more Mandalorian than you will ever be bounty hunter the ARC said, recognizing the voice as the same he had heard in the office and in the cantina only the day before. A finger traced along the clones bare stomach but he could not tilt his head low enough to see who or what was touching him. Well, well. You do have some spirit left in you after all. But you forget one thing. Ive been a Mandalorian all my life. Ive lived with Mandalorians, trained with Mandalorians and fought with Mandalorians the Twilek said as she circled around the man. So have I. And Id bet Ive seen more fighting and Mandalorian blood than you have seen or will ever see unless you personally slaughter the entire Stormtrooper corps Jorso noted and received a sharp painful experience from some sort of electric shocker in response. You should behave properly around women, clone the woman said, emphasizing the word clone to remind him of her superiority over some sort of genetic surplus good. Alpha-48 breathed deeply, calming his mind and body after the electricity coursing through his athletic build. A giggle circled him, following the Twilek Mandalorian around the containment field to which the man was locked in. As Koy Ankia circled back in front of the cage, Jorso smirked openly to her. You will yet talk about the locations of all your Jedi friends, clone she commented and headed for the door. I am Advanced Recon Commando Alpha-48, serving under the Galactic Republic. That is all I am authorized to reveal the clone said, his eyes staring directly at the Twilek mercenary, who had stopped in her tracks once he began to speak. The standard answer of all ARC troopers did not please the woman at all, but interrogation was not her duty or role in this charade. Her mission was to capture AWOL clones that had become treasonous and to hand them over to Imperials. Without asking questions or listening to stories, she would not be persecuted as a liability once her job was finished. But she knew as well as anyone else that once you were in the employ of the Empire, you would have to have very good connections to disappear. Koy shook her head at the clone and opened the door, flooding light into the room and revealing to the clone the whereabouts of the doors; a mistake on her part. Much like the shock, which the clone now figured out how to work in his advantage once the interrogators came in to figure out what he knew.

--- --- --Miss Ankia, I believe it has come for you to observe a generous cash flow into your account the Imperial captain of the dungeon ship said as the Mandalorian mercenary entered the impressively busy bridge of the boxy craft. Excellent. He wont be getting out of a force field that strong without some unnecessarily big explosives the Twilek giggled and followed the captain to a computer terminal from which they could conclude the business between them. The captain began the setup for the transaction as he was instructed to do by Lord Vader. It all went smoothly, even though these transactions always made Koy Ankia nervous. There was always a chance of double crossing if one wasnt certain and there were always means to cheat ones eyes from seeing the true numbers going on that bank account. However, this time neither would happen. As the captain was pressing in the required passwords to confirm the transactions from the Imperial funds, an alarm rang on the bridge. Something had caused an unscheduled jump out of hyperspace and sensors picked up the source immediately. Someone had lobbed a grenade a tad bit too close to the hyperdrive, which now suffered from a nasty case of shrapnel piercing. Several officers turned from their stations to look at their captain and began giving reports on the situation. The sensors picked up a craft parting from the dungeon ship, but could not give anything but a crude outline of the craft due to some form of jamming. Koy got an instant sweat on her beautiful curves and when she saw the outline, she collapsed on the ground, cradling her head in her arms. The captain ordered a scan of all cells to check if there was a prison break. And indeed there was; five cells in total were empty and five more had had their containment fields disengaged. Once guard reports came in, the life forms inside the cells without containment fields on were confirmed as those of several guards and interrogators. It was a serious case of prison brake, and it had been done very neatly, because no dead guards littered any corridor and there was no warning ahead of time. The guards confirmed the loss of two Jedi, five mercs closely affiliated with some of the nastiest crowds in the Galaxy and two political prisoners. And then there was one accused of treason; a certain former ARC trooper. The captain immediately canceled the transaction he had just been finishing up and ordered that Vader be contacted immediately. --- --- --That was one nice escape you just improvised, soldier a voice came out in the cockpit of the small freighter which, despite some reluctance on the computers part due to a change of ownership, was calculating a Hyperspace route to Taris of all places. Yup Jorso answered calmly, back in his usual attire of an ARC trooper. He had managed, to very much his personal delight, to reclaim his armor, helmet, weapons and everything else during the escape.

Whats your name? the voice asked, a hand placing itself on the shoulder pad of the clone and a pair of eyes focusing on the side of the helmet fashioned with a pair of jaig eyes. Jorso Ran, sir. Republic designation Alpha-48 the clone said before hitting the switch which launched the small vessel into the hyperspace. He glanced to his shoulder now that there was a free moment and the dark-skinned hand was removed from the shoulder pad. Indeed? I remember working with an Alpha-48 during the War the man said and Jorso nodded in compliance. I remember working with you General. But we will have enough time to reminisce later. Im taking the ship to Taris for now. I better brief the rest with the plan as well the clone said and put on the autopilot before standing up. No offense, General. I know you were an able pilot in the war, but they did take a hand and cripple a leg. It was a miracle you survived the fall the clone said and stepped past the Jedi that only nodded and took a passenger seat in the cockpit for now. As silence fell in the cockpit, the clone left for the common room where the folks had already made themselves comfortable. Some had found pieces of armor that fit them; most had found weapons which they could carry without anyone taking much notice of it. It was a ragtag bunch with some being healthy and full of life while some had gone through so much interrogation that many former acquaintances could hardly recognize them. Jorso came in to explain the situation and after briefing them on the destination and the first course of action which was to split up and disappear - he sat down with the bunch and sighed quietly to himself. I am sure I will be forced to come to each and every one of you in due time, because of one matter or another. But when I do, I expect that every one of you remembers that all of you owe me your lives. Im just damned happy none of you are Wookiee, because then Id really have my hands full the clone said and shook his head. Lets try and get some rest before we reach Taris. Because this ship belongs to a bounty hunter under Imperial employ, we will have to be quick about selling the ship and dispersing afterwards. We have about five hours left to get rest or scavenge anything you find on this ship. So have at it the clone said and chuckled to himself before setting himself down on the floor so he could get some sleep. He was hoping his starfighter was still following his signal through the HoloNet so it would know to arrive on Taris shortly after he had arrived himself. It would give him a quick getaway from any Imperial pursuit. It was a foolproof plan. --- --- --A dim light shone through holes within the ruins that were the Taris lower levels. It was a light made by an open fire, crackling and shifting along the walls of a

shack built with haste and of scarce materials. A lone shadow blocked the path of the light, caused by a sitting figure wrapped in heavy bulky robes that had over the years been tattered and torn. Below the hood of the robes, a grey beard grew downwards from the chin of an old man. You still hold to the old Jedi ways? a voice called out from the darkness, hiding beyond the reach of the light. Yes. The ways of the Jedi are also my ways. When people forget the important values, they will fail. The Republic may have fallen, but some still cling to it for what it stood for before the Clone War the robed man answered and glanced from below the hood into the darkness. It could barely be seen, but not far from the shack there leaned a man against a pile of rubble. Clad in white armor that was hidden behind a dark poncho, more weapons hidden within and at his disposal than in an Imperial garrison. The man nudged himself off the wall and took a few steps until the light bounced off his large build and the outlines of his body became clear to the old Jedi. I do not cling to the Republic, General. I was raised and trained to be a soldier for the Republic. Not an elite guard for a lone man in charge of the Republic. And I was certainly not trained to run around in utterly silly new armor oppressing decent folk and forcing the hand of important Republic-aligned worlds. I am not a slaver or a pirate. I am still a soldier of the Republic and I will follow my original programming for as long as I live the man said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Its too bad you clones were never taught the meaning of irony. The entire Clone Wars was a war of oppression. We thought the Separatists were evil and oppressive and they likewise saw us as evil and oppressive. But your words are wise for ones coming out of a clone and I agree. You and I are both renegades, being hunted down for our knowledge and the threat we may possess when going against the Empire. There is something I have to ask of you, though. The old Jedi and Sith relics from the Archives Holodisks, recordings, records, Holocrons, lightsabers I would like to come into their possession if you find any upon your travels. When the Empire falls and something rises from the ashes to replace it, there will once more be a place for Jedi and they will need the guidance of the Jedi Order that is no more the robed man said and the clone nodded. If you think they are worth my attention, I will pick them up as I see fit. I will try to contact you the next time I come near Taris over my progress with the relics, General Windu. the well-built man said and glanced over his shoulder at a large starfighter landing nearby with a large cloud of dust and smoke being thrown everywhere. May the Force be with you, Jorso Ran the Jedi said and lowered his head into meditation while the clone parted his presence without another word.

As the clone sat down in the cockpit of the starfighter, he finally sighed and shook his head before closing the dome. The droid onboard the fighter beeped and whistled, requesting a destination. Jorso leaned back in his seat and took the control for himself. There was no place where he would be safe from the Twilek bounty hunter or the Imperials. He would need a place to lay low for a while and wait for some sort of sign of what to do with the rest of his days. It would have to be meaningful and something that would be for the Republic and not private enterprises To Nar Shaddaa

Chapter II Finding a Meaning

The bustling city-moon of Nar Shaddaa, possibly the sleaziest and most violent moon on the Outer Rim. Where Nal Hutta was the brains of Hutt space, Nal Hutta its moon was the heart. A crossroads of all paths of life and where even the Empire dare not invade. The armies of mercenaries and bounty hunters that the Hutts had in their beck and call could match even an Imperial sector army.

Yes, this was the place to come when on the run from the law, as long as it wasnt the law of the Hutts. A man in a long trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat walked through check-in at one of the many Nar Shaddaa spaceports. A Hutt cartel officer looked at the man suspiciously for a moment before his eyes were drawn on three Gamorrean guards beating up a small-time crook trying to reach the shuttles. In that brief moment, the man had walked past him. The officer turned, his hand going to rest on the hilt of his heavy blaster with a light clack as the blaster shifted in its oversized holster. Suddenly, the man in the trench coat stopped with his ears perked up. He looked over his shoulder at the Cartel officer and his eyes narrowed. Hi chuba da naga? the man spoke in Huttese and the officer raised an eyebrow before taking a step towards him. Drop the Huttese, your pronunciation sucks. We dont see many with old Republic starfighters the officer answered and the man turned around fully. Whats it to you? The cartel doesnt care who lands here as long as they dont cause trouble the man in the trench coat said and his other hand went to the front of his trench, pulling one side open and placing itself softly on the holster of an Arc commando pistol holstered on his belt. Now the officer could see that the man was wearing full body armor in white with red markings. No, but the Cartel would want to know the officer said before stepping right up to the man so he could lower his voice, what a man suited in Imperial armor and carrying Imperial weapons is doing on their moon. Jorso looked the officer over several times before finally removing his hand from his blaster and letting the trench coat to close again. I am no Imperial and my armor and arms are neither. If the Cartel truly wishes to know of me, they can call Varla the Hutt on Cinnagar. The namedrop worked, although the clone knew very well that only a bad reputation or a distinct failure to a Cartel boss in Hutt space would call for being dispatched so deep into the Core worlds. The officer removed his hand from his blaster as well and nodded in approval. Jorso turned once more and left, walking casually into a crowd heading towards the nearest taxi pad. Meanwhile, the Cartel officer picked up his holocomm and pressed several buttons on it. The holocomm flashed in light before an image of a Twilek began forming above it in a blue hue. The Twilek greeted in Huttese, but the officer interrupted him swiftly. We may have a problem brewing on Nar Shaddaa. I stumbled on someone who could warrant the honorable Marlo the Hutts interest. This mercenary He dropped the name of that lout Varla.

Interesting. Have your boys follow him. Be discreet! If he is an asset we can use, we do not want him to be killed in a useless firefight. Not yet Understood --- --- --So who is this guy anyway? a gruff, heavily accented voice asked in a small dark room. We dont know for certain. He calls himself Jorso Ran according to sources in Varla the Hutts little gang in the corw worlds. They say hes a one man army, but nobody is that good a Twilek man answered in Huttese. Oh I wouldnt say that Ive seen some weird things in my life The two looked at a small screen, showing another dark room somewhere nearby. As they looked on, they saw little movement. That was, until the door opened. A lone man walked in, closed the door behind him and switched on the lights. He was carrying a large bag on his shoulder, having picked it from his ship shortly after signing into this small and dusty hotel. Ample time for the cartel to set up bugs everywhere. They watched on as the man removed his hat and trench coat, revealing his full ARC armor and the weapons hanging off it. Two pistols, a knife and a rifle on his back were the ones they could count. A bandolier swung over his shoulder had grenades, ammunition and what looked like proximity mines. He set the large bag on his bed and opened it, pouring out the contents. It was a helmet, stripped bare from all accessories. The other stuff was well, accessories. Jorso grabbed a chair and sat next to the bed, starting to work on updating his helmets hardware and repairing damage sustained to it during the escape from the dungeon ship. Thats some arsenal hes packing. And thats just on his person. Who is this guy anyway? I know that face The sources may be right. He can be an asset. We should do everything to get him as an enforcer for Marlo. What? What do you know of this guy? I worked as a smuggler for the Republic at one point in the war. Saw these guys in action. Hes a clone trooper, alright. But not just any trooper. I think hes one of the elite soldiers. Some sort of Commando or something. Right So how do we get an old Republic commando affiliated with a Hutt like Malro? He was working for Valra, wasnt he? And Valra is a two-bit thug compared to Malro.

--- --- --It had been days of following this one man for the human and Twilek cartel enforcers. Uneventful days. The clone had been to the spaceport to arrange for a middle-man to sell his starfighter and the astromech with it. Although the clone seemed to have strong feelings for the ship and the droid, he still parted with them, going back to see it one last time before the sale was ratified and credits switched pockets. And what did he do with the money? He bought a bigger ship not soon thereafter. Over a course of two days, the clone went through underworld contacts he had seemed to gather and had managed his own way to the Hutts, although the wrong one unfortunately. He went to Jabba, crimelord of Tatooine and the biggest Cartel boss. With that audience and a trade of credits and the whereabouts of Valra as well as the Hutts strength and position in the core worlds, the man received a Crescent-class transport. The very next day after the audience with Jabba, he toured the spaceport with one of Jabbas lieutenants on Nar Shaddaa and saw the ship for the first time. Thirty meters long, the ship with a simple sleek delta-wing design and a massive engine at the rear was fitted with the Mark II military upgrade. Jorso had actually laughed out loud as he saw the ship, like it were a dream come true for him. As he climbed on the hull of the black-and-grey ship, he examined every one of the four point-defence laser cannons mounted on the hull in small remote-controlled turrets. Apparently not satisfied with the fitting, he made a further personal deal with the lieutenant to fit it with a new hyperdrive, two forward-facing heavy laser cannons and a new more powerful shield along with a small repeater blaster on the underside of the hull. What the two cartel men tailing Jorso found out during their days on the case was astonishingly little. It wouldnt please Marlo the Hutt, but it would certainly have to do until the man was brought himself up to the Hutt. --- --- --After a week of tailing the clone, the two men were walking down one of the many streets of Nar Shaddaa. They had followed their mark down to the turf of Marlo the Hutt himself. Ahead loomed the palace of Marlo, with its domed rooftops and a grotesque and large statue of a Hutt that bore resemblance to no particular Hutt in existence. Jorso was browsing the small stalls littering the streets, selling all sorts of goods from food to weapons. All of them paid their dues to Marlo, which is why they could sell on the street so close to the palace. The two enforcers stood across the street, the Twilek leaning against a wall and the human some way off to the side for a different angle at their mark. Jorso had turned to purchase something from a stall, when a large group of pedestrians walked by. As they had passed, the clone was no longer at the stall. The two enforcers glanced at each others direction before rushing to the stall and looking around to try and get a visual on the clone. Having failed, they

separated. The Twilek rushed into the crowd to search for him there, the human rushed to the alleyway next to the stall. A column of steam rose from a vent on the wall of the alleyway, piped down from the industrial level down below somewhere. The human rushed through it, only to stop dead on his tracks right after the smoke. A blaster barrel was pointing him right between the eyes with the clone in full armor and helmet on facing him down. What do you want from me? Jorso asked, his finger lightly massaging the trigger, anxious to shoot someone after several weeks of not getting to do it. The human looked at the visor on the helmet for a moment before raising his open hands to chest-height. We were ordered to follow you. Make sure you dont cause trouble that would put you at odds with the honorable Marlo the Hutt. Jorso stared at the human intently for a moment. Suddenly, the human smacked the blaster out of Jorsos hand and hit him in the chest, followed by a kick in the knee. Jorso took a few steps back, his eyes narrowing. Howd the man managed to get the drop on him so easily? Jorso quickly straightened himself, blocking the next few hits from making contact before swiftly roundhouse kicking the man back. Jorso stared at the human, who instead of recoiling went back on the attack. Blow after blow came in his direction, most of the ones meant for more vital areas blocked while the rest hit the hard white armor. As the human didnt even cringe at the pain it should have caused, the clone quirked an eyebrow. This enforcer had piqued his interest and perhaps listening would be the wise road to go down on. Suddenly as the mans blows became slower and more agitated, Jorso lunged with his fists flailing into action. He hit the man several times, although most of his hits were blocked or diverted. The two were quite evenly matched for a moment, before Jorso managed to grab the attackers offhand and twist it out of its socket. The clone kicked the mans knee, twisting the arm further to bring the man down on his knees. Sharp cries of pain echoed along the walls of the alleyway. Stop! Stop! Alright, you got me ARC the enforcer cried out and Jorso did as requested. He let out the vibroblade hidden in his gauntlet of the hand that wasnt holding the enforcer. The humans eyes widened. You are one of the Alpha batch, arent you? I could tell from the somewhat robotic way you carry yourself. RC-8725 at your service. Its an honor to fight someone with the Jaigs. The human enforcer spoke hurriedly and Jorso once more quirked an eyebrow. He let go of the dislocated arm and stepped back. Beneath the beard, the major scarring and the long hairdo, the human did look rather familiar. Finally the clone relented and slid the vibroblade back inside the gauntlet and slowly removed his helmet. Alpha-48 Captain Adenn. Nowadays Jorso Ran, he said solemnly, I havent seen any clones around outside the Stormtrooper Corps.

Well, we are few. I hear some Commandos and ARCs got walked out, but not many. Mandalores been buzzing with all the Jangos walking around. I hear it a lot through Marlos contacts. Look, Marlo needs someone like you in his service and you obviously have an itchy trigger finger. What do you say? the former clone commando said and Jorso simply stepped back to reclaim his blaster pistol. No. I already worked for a Hutt. I dont see why theyre such a sought after employer. Jorso spoke quietly, twirling the pistol around his finger before placing it back into the holster. Look, Marlo hates the Empire. He thinks theyre bad for business. Maybe you could find common ground with him. He might even have some raids open for you, if you take some more oddjobs for him. Jorso slowly shook his head before putting his helmet back on. He looked at the fellow clone once more before turning around and starting to walk. The enforcer slumped slightly, looking at the man walk away from an opportunity of a lifetime. Just think about it Jorso! he called after him as the clone disappeared behind another plume of smoke. The enforcer was left knelt on the alleyway. He took hold of his dislocated arm and inhaled deep before pulling it back into the socket. It would take days if not weeks for that not to sting anymore. Maybe Marlos medical droids back at the palace could help him out with lessening the pain and making his recovery a bit speedier. As the clone was getting up, the Twilek finally found the alleyway and rushed through the plume of smoke. Seeing his fellow enforcer and friend roughed up, he grabbed his blater and looked around frantically while stepping to support the human. Dont bother. Hes gone, but I got him a message that Marlo wants him. Hell either come in or leave the moon. I dont think Marlo wants to take that chance. Too bad, that spaceport is Jabbas. Marlo cant get his hands on it without starting something inside the Council. --- --- --The spaceport cantina was small, rough and busy. Plenty of people going in and out through the three entrances. By the look of the goons sitting in several booths and along the counter, the place was a second home to several cartel gangsters while on leave from their regular duties and missions. Jorso sat alone unarmored by the counter, sipping a refreshing ale and contemplating what hed do next. Most of the credits he had, funneled from the bounty hunter Koy Ankia and received from the sale of her ship and his, had

gone toward the purchase of this new ship and the retrofitting. He would need more to stay afloat for longer than a few months and raiding Imperial transports wasnt lucrative enough in respect to the dangers. Also, even if he was lethal and suicidal in many aspects and very unconformist, he did not see himself as a pirate. Perhaps he could be a privateer, but nobody had risen up against the Empire yet that hadnt been crushed and who he could get in contact with that would allow him the pleasure. His thoughts were disrupted by a man stumbling up to him, crashing against the counter. The spacer pushed himself up from the counter and glanced over at the clone, his drunken smile dissipating quickly. He slurred something at Jorso, which the clone promptly ignored. The slurring went on for some time longer before the drunken man pushed himself off the counter and hit the glass out of Jorsos hand, smashing it against the table and spilling half-a-glass of the contents. The clone sucked his upper lip, letting out a noise that indicated quite clearly that his patience was running dry. Then the man finally managed to slur something out that made at least some sense; the word coward. Jorso stepped off his stool and straightened himself in front of the spacer before clearing his throat. Youre drunk. Which is why I will give you one chance to walk away. Jorso spoke up, the man looking at him sort of strangely for a moment like his brain didnt quite fire on all cylinders for a while there. Shhho, whassa gunna do about it I dont? Im- Im a wanted man in ssssheveral sshtar sshystemshh the man continued, making an effort into the pronunciation of his threat. The spacer glanced down to make sure his drunken hand went to the blaster handle. As he drew his gun and looked up to see where it was he was meant to be waving it, a bulky fist smashed right across his jaw, dropping the spacer on the first hit. Jorso loomed over the man for a moment, making sure he was out cold before sitting back down and raising his finger to the bartender to pour him a new one. A bulky bouncer came up and promptly picked up the spacer over his shoulder, carrying him off to the curb where he became someone elses problem. After the incident and the bartender handing over his ale, the clone withdrew from the counter and walked along the side of the room, eyeing the booths quietly to himself. As he found one that was vacated in one of the corners, he slid in between the table and couch. He leaned back as he sat down and sipped on his ale. He took a small datapad from his pocket and began flipping through it, eyeing the information on it with great interest. He was reading an ancient text about Mandalorians, their views on honor and religion. Jorso hadnt previously cared about the ways of the Mandalorians. He had his clan - the GAR and he didnt care for the gods, partly because Jango never spoke of them as much as the other Cuyval Dar. Jango did not raise them as sons and Mando, he raised them as elite soldiers and in image of his own experiences and beliefs. The difference between the Alpha-class and Null-class ARCs and even with the Commandos was the way they were trained and how much Mando culture they were immersed in. To a point, Jorso was glad and sorry at the same time over

the close tutelage of Jango. For the whole war, he always despised the Nulls and to some extent several Commandoes, for they were more like Mando mercenaries than loyal Republic soldiers. Yet now that he was clanless, cast out from the one life he knew, he began to re-evaluate his feelings towards these renegade clones. He opened another page on the datapad, a historical record rather than a study. But this one was not about the Mandalorians, but rather about the Antarian Rangers that were once the supporting force of the Jedi, before the Clone Wars. He fought with many Antarian Ranger Generals during the war and now that he began studying the Mandalorian culture and ways, the difference between the two organizations was small. The largest difference was that while the Mandalorians were often on the side of the Sith, fighting for honor and glory, the Antarians followed the Jedi Order and acted selflessly, ready to sacrifice themselves without mind for glory or honor. The clone gulped down the rest of his ale and raised his eyes from the datapad, only to discover a set of eyes peering straight at him from the booth across the room. Two Gotal were staring at him, but when they noticed his eyes on them, they turned away and continued as if nothing had happened. The clone pulled the brim of his hat lower and closed his trench coat after putting his datapad away. He quietly stood up and walked out of the cantina, heading for the dock where his new ship was being refitted. --- --- --Are you sure hes trustworthy? No, but hes our best choice on this world. Are you daft? There are others No, there arent. And you know it as well as I do. Hes exactly what we seek. Just let me handle the talking. Two cloaked figures walked between several containers, approaching the open ramp to a ship. As they walked up the ramp, they looked around hastily to make sure nobody spotted them. Finally up inside the ship, the two men removed the hoods from their heads and made their way further inside towards the large lounge area. As they entered the lounge, they looked around hastily. They saw no sign of anyone on the ship despite the fact they saw the owner get on with their own eyes. Suddenly, the turbolift doors opened and out stepped a man in battered white and red-marked armor with two blaster pistols drawn. The barrels pointed immediately at the two men and the faceless man stepped forwards again, the turbolift doors closing behind him. The T-shaped visor and the Jaig eyes stared at the two figures in what seemed like indescribable menace.

The two figures took a hasty step back, raising their hands to stop him quickly. Jorso looked at the two for a moment, studying their appearances and horns before narrowing his eyes behind the visor. What brings two Gotal to my ship without invitation or announcement? the armored man questioned, his pistols continuing to point at the two. Please! Please put down the guns and Ill explain everything one of the Gotal hastily answered and stepped towards the clone. The armored clone pondered for a moment before deeming the two Gotal no threat to him despite having snuck aboard his ship without permission. If they were there to kill him, they would have attempted to do so by now. He brought his arms down so rapidly that the Gotal flinched, the other one even cowering slightly behind his friend. Jorso then spun his blasters and holstered them smoothly on the low-slung holsters attached to his utility belt. The armor Jorso wore was different now from what it had been when working for Varla in the Empress Teta system. Scavenging was a marvelous thing. His chest was covered by Phase I ARC trooper armor, painted over with red stripes marking his former rank and covered with scars and holes from various fights over the years. His helmet was on the outside a Phase I ARC trooper helmet with a rangefinder attached, but on the inside he had updated all the hardware and software components, including upgrading the HUD on his visor. His legs were Phase II clone trooper armor with a Kama going down to below his knees, nearly to mid-calf. His belt was a modified ARC utility belt with added slings to bring the holsters down to about mid-thigh. A large pauldron went over both his shoulders, painted red and black, with a black and silver bandoleer slung from his left shoulder across to his right hip, from which it went back up via his back. Speak! Jorso ordered, leaning on the wall next to the turbolift door with his arms crossed. Well, uh We saw you in the cantina earlier and you must be a clone right. Youre experienced in combat and that sort of thing, while we arent, the Gotal began to explain and Jorso simply nodded. Well, we heard that the Empire captured some Antarian rangers from Antar 4 some two days ago. Theyre being held in a refitted Separatist base on Antar 5 until they can be transported to a prison world, or in the case of low-ranking members, executed. We were hoping you might help us out here. The two of us used to finance the organization and I hope that a clone such as yourself might see that they do not deserve to be executed or thrown into a bottomless pit like the prison worlds. So you come to me, not a smuggler or a bounty hunter or a merc. You choose me, Jorso quietly spoke before sighing and leaning off the wall. He stepped up towards the Gotal and looked at him for a moment.

His hands came up and the second Gotal cowered again. However, Jorsos hands went to his helmet and he swiftly pulled it off his head to reveal his somewhat battered features and a steadily growing stubble. A long scar went across his left eye vertically and his weary eyes looked them both over as he placed his helmet under his left arm. After shaking his head in disbelief in himself, his right hand came out and opened up. Youve got yourself a rescue mission. Jorso said and the Gotal in front of him took his hand, shaking it wildly from happiness. But! I want something in return for this. I wont state my terms here and now. You will get them when I return with the Rangers. The two Gotal looked at each others briefly before turning back to Jorso. Well, we dont have much credits anymore. The Empire seized our businesses a while ago the Gotal still holding to Jorsos hand said. Credits were not what I had in mind. Theres something else I will require of you. For now, go about your business. I will contact you with this frequency once I have the rangers. But it might take a couple of days before I can lift off. If the Empire hasnt executed them yet, theyre waiting for a prison transport and that will take at least a week. I will get your friends out before it arrives on Antar 5. The Gotal shook his hand again with joyful glee before the two men rushed off back out of the ship. Shaking his head slowly, Jorso walked up to the HoloNet station on his ship and set the helmet down next to it. He began tapping in keywords, ranging from Antarian Rangers to Antar 4 and 5. He would need to know more so he could plan ahead how to approach this new mission of his.