Kothal Under Siege

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stalked the corridors of the Haran, prowling like a sabercat on the hunt... on the hunt with no prey in sight. Things had been quiet. No, it had been boring.

Working with Lyydea kept her on her toes, but there had been no grand mission to occupy her time. Lilaena felt like a lightsaber in a drawer - waiting for someone to pick her up and put her in the fight. Perhaps she was not meant to lead, but was only suited for following? A depressing thought...and so she walked the passages of the Hammerhead-class ship.

Aurelias Kazaar had spent some time with her, setting up her group of Mandalorians as a mercenary group and seeding information about them into the holonet. Highly skilled mercs, referrals only. They had done a few small jobs, but she was beginning to question whether using only referrals was too exclusive. They needed something to do, to keep them sharp. Jobs against the Empire were a priority, of course, but there had been nothing for a few weeks.

She continued to roam.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

De'Ville's personal com *clicked*. "Need ya on th'Dutchman II, Devvy. Gotta job f'us."

It was Kazaar, of course, who else would be willing to call a Dark Jedi Master by some nickname without worrying about the consequences. But that was Aurelias Kazaar...he took risks and placed himself in danger like it was second nature to himself. Just like the dark cigar he was puffing on and the double of bourbon he'd just finished pouring into a glass. All second nature to his being (health risks and all).

Kazaar was sitting behind a desk, of all places, staring at two men he knew pretty well. One was Mirko Spendrim, the fidgety information broker who always looked like he was ready to bolt for the nearest exit. For a guy who had contacts almost everywhere, Spenny was never one to brag and seemed almost sheepish about admitting to anything. He was more concerned about himself, not in a selfish way, but the way a skittish cat might. He even tried to mother over those he cared about (including offering to knit Kazaar a sweater the minute he'd set foot on The Flying Dutchman II, the Kazellis light freighter (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kazellis-class_light_freighter) Kazaar was using instead of Dutchman I). He missed the HWK-290 (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/HWK-290_light_freighter), but that was on drydock on Hutta and probably not going to be released anytime soon. Kazaar could thank the second man's boss for that issue.

Faara Niinimaa was one of the few men (or aliens) Kazaar trusted. A Twi'lek, Niinimaa kept his white lekku wrapped around his head like a ponytail. He wore a black robe with yellow seams, and had a dark cigar clenched between his pointed teeth. Niinimaa was the one who actually introduced Kazaar to cigars when he was 18. The problem was Niinimaa was the number two man for Gorgja the Hutt, a crime lord Kazaar currently was on the outs with. The bounty hunter didn't think Gorgja wanted him dead, and he was definitely sure he wouldn't have sent Niinimaa to do it. But it was still odd to see the Twi'lek with Spenny, especially since Kazaar doubted it was to give him Dutchman I back. It became pretty clear why Niinimaa was there after he'd explained what was going on.

"Pretty frackin' cute o'ya," Kazaar blew out smoke like his mouth was a chimney, "T'come up wit'his plan. Still gotta run it past Devvy. She'll wanna 'ear it too."

He wanted it this way. Kazaar didn't mind putting his own life in danger, but wasn't about to do that with others. He was still adjusting to life with De'Ville and her Mandalorians, especially on the giving orders part. It was a helluva lot different when he only worked with one or two people. Now there were a few thousands out there who could take orders. But they took things a lot easier when they knew Kazaar was going with him. He was always one to put his own neck on the line. Wouldn't have it any other way.

De'Ville got there about 15 minutes later, her dark Jedi-like wrap tunic barely making a sound as she sat down in a chair next to Kazaar. He didn't bother with introductions, and shot a glare at Spenny when he tried to shake her hand. "Aw right, Neema, talk."

Niinimaa's smile was toothy, and he took a moment to drink down the liquor in his wrapped hands. "We've got a problem on Lothal (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Lothal)," his Basic was almost flawless, with a slight elongation of A's and O's. "Kothal in particular. You know the Empire uses the planet as an industrial park, but they're looking into possibly privatizing some of their mining operations. Specifically the kyber crystal industry. Gorgja wants in, and has enough contacts in the planet government to get the contract. The thing is, the Empire needs to be pushed over the edge to go with the idea. Gorgja's willing to do something other businessmen aren't," Kazaar smirked at Niinimaa calling Gorgja a businessman, "Putting up his own men as security."

"He gave me free reign on who to hire, as long as I use my own creds, I thought of you, Aurelias. Go in there and wipe out the Imperial outpost at Kothal. The Imperial governor isn't like Tarkin and will reduce his force if it thinks it will keep people safe. The outpost is about 50 men or so. Take it out, and they'll leave. Job's worth 100K creds."

Kazaar tossed a gaze towards De'Ville. "Whatta ya think? 'M up f'doing it myself, but figured ya'd want in too."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville had leaned away from Spendrim when he tried to shake her hand, and listened carefully to the 'problem' that Gorgja the Hutt needed solving. "Taking out an Imperial outpost and getting paid for it?" She smiled. The possibility of liberating some much needed kyber crystals was a big selling point as well. "Damn right I want in."

She reached out with the Force and activated the holoemitter in the table, searching manually and coming up with a display of the planet Lothal. A few gestures and it was zoomed in on the 'town' of Kothal. "So we are scaring off the Imperials so that Gorgja can get a mining contract? Seems... improbable. What if this plan doesn't make the Imps pull out?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

De'Ville's ability to see all angles was something Kazaar liked about her. The fact she pointed out the Imps might not be willing to surrender Kothal so quickly was something he'd considered too. She just put it to words.

Niinimaa had also considered it. "It's possible their response will be stronger, but it would take several hours for the Empire to get there. If you're good enough to work with Aurelias, I'm confident you're good enough to get in and out without too long of a battle."

The Twi'lek's long-nailed right hand picked up his cigar from the ashtray and placed it into his mouth. "The Empire does replace troops inside the compound on a semi-regular basis. However, they just recently moved 20 men out..."

Spendrim cut it. "Th-the next troop movement isn't planned for another three weeks, Aurelias. I...I've looked it over. It's all clear."

Kazaar could have sworn Spenny had an almost happy look on his face. He smirked. "That o'fact. What happens if all this crap goes sideways, Neema. Ya gonna pay up or leave me an' Devvy out t'dry?"

Niinimaa didn't even blink. He'd gone this way with Kazaar before. The Twi'lek knew Kazaar was interested in the job, but was playing tough because others were going to be involved. It was one of the things Niinimaa liked the most about Kazaar. He could be a brute when needed, but didn't sacrifice others just for a score. Niinimaa was pretty sure Kazaar had some sort of death wish, but wasn't going to let those he considered friends and colleagues go down with him.

"The risks are substantial and I'm more than willing to compensate you. How about...150K...if things go 'sideways'? Will that work for you and your partner, Aurelias?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Kazaar looked at her, and she shrugged. "Works for me." Even if she didn't understand how killing a bunch of Imperials was going to help the Hutt, getting paid to kill a bunch of Imperials was a great deal. Hell, she'd do it for free.

She sat silently as the deal was concluded, calculating how many Mando'ade she'd bring with her to take out the outpost. Twenty-five? She didn't want to underestimate the strength of the Imperials, but then it would depend on how many of her fellow Force users wanted to come along.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"We gotta deal, Neema." Kazaar tipped his glass of bourbon in salute towards Niinimaa and Spendrim (the latter wasn't drinking alcohol at all, as usual. Kazaar always thought giving Spenny a drink or two of liquor might calm him down, but the info broker always refused. Frackin' weirdo.).

Gorgja the Hutt's second-in-command smiled, and returned Kazaar's salute. "Thank you, Aurelias. I knew I could count on you to get this done. Although, I must ask your partner...Devvy, wasn't it?" His yellow eyes found De'Ville's green ones. "A few questions...

"Gorgja, Aurelias, and I have known each other a long time." He glanced at Kazaar to see if the bounty hunter would interrupt. "We've argued like senators and acted petty towards one another (This reminds me I'm trying to get The Dutchman out of dry dock). But the fact is, Aurelias is one of my favorite people and Gorgja would probably admit the same thing."

"If th'kaffer had o'frackin' heart." Kazaar interjected through a cloud of smoke.

Niinimaa ignored him. "I want to see Aurelias succeed in whatever venture he's putting together, whether it be this mercenary partnership or being a "driver" on Coruscant to a girl who is dangerous in her own right." He leaned forward. "I trust Aurelias, and his judgment on partners, but I want to know...what do you bring to the table?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She looked at Niinimaa. "If you trust Kazaar, then you know he doesn't choose partners lightly. He prefers working alone, actually." Lilaena leaned forward as well. "I don't know you, and I don't trust people I don't know. If there's any concern about what I 'bring to the table' then he can bring it up with me."

She sat back, her green eyes intense as she continued to lock eyes with the Twi'lek.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar shook his head. "Faara if ya seriously thought ya were gonna find out wha'Devvy brings t'the table by jus'asking, you're a lekku is starting t'do all the frackin' thinking."

Niinimaa looked at De'Ville, then Kazaar. And started laughing. Hard. It was a laugh full of mirth and teeth, showing Niinimaa wasn't a fool. "You pick well, Aurelias." He stood up and finished his drink. "I look forward to your success."

Spendrim got up quickly, gave a small nod, and followed the Twi'lek out. It was quiet in Dutchman II before Kazaar turned to De'Ville. "Neema's on th'level, but that don' mean we're jist runnin' off t'Kothal with our armor half polished. Think Bretak'll be up f'leading a small scoutin' party? Three't most. Once he gets back t'us, we can plan our attack."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She nodded. "I will ask him." Mand'alor did not need to ask, but she would anyway. Bretak might want to lead it himself, or send another trusted lieutenant on the task. It would be done, regardless.

Lilaena cocked her head and looked at Kazaar. "How do you feel about my other companions? The ones who aren't Mandalorian. Some of them may wish to join us."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya mean ya wannabe Force users." Kazaar almost sneered when De'Ville told him yes. It wasn't that he hated Force users (or "FU's" as Kazaar occasionally spat), it was that Kazaar would prefer they have more skill than "just" the Force. De'Ville did. Millivikal k'Vik did. Even Ashley (the first gal Kazaar loved and lost) was more than just a dame with a "hokey religion and ancient weapon." They all had skills which made them deadlier than ever, and knew how to use blasters like they were extensions of their hands. He didn't know De'Ville's...apprentices or whatever the frack she called them...except the red-headed Zeltron freaked Kazaar the frack out whenever she stood there talking to herself. The one who refused to show his skin looked pretty fracking deadly, but Kazaar needed to see him in action. Same with the guy with the long hair and pale face. He probably could kick serious ass, but Kazaar hadn't watched him do it.

<I>Only way t'see whether they can fight is to drag their asses out there.</I>

"Yeh. Fine. Bring 'em if they want. Just make sure they ain't gussied up in dresses an' are ready forrra fight. We ain't goin' out t'tea, we're going t'fracking war." He smirked through cigar smoke. "Dependin' on what Bretak says,'m thinking we'd need 'round 25 Mandys max. Prefer o'smaller force, like ten, but we ain't sure what th'frack the Imps're gonna throw at us. Don't need t'be paradin' our armor out f'everyone to gawk at."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"They all use the Force," she said mildly, not letting him rile her up. He probably wouldn't enjoy the results. Lilaena stood up. "A small force seems reasonable, and I'd rather not spend a lot of credits to do the job. But I'll let you know when Bretak is back. Try not to pick any fights with the 'wanna-be's in the meantime." She smiled tightly.

---

Two days later and they were reconvening, with Bretak and a hologram of the small base they were contracted to take out. "It is a standard Imperial set up," her second in command was saying, zooming in on the perimeter patrol on speeder bikes, a squad of four spread out so as not to be an easy target as they did their rounds.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar stared at the layout, his black eyes narrowing. "Whatta they look like at night?"

"Smaller patrols." Bretak answered almost immediately. "Only two apiece, and they aren't always paying attention. One sergeant bawled out two troopers for being caught asleep."

Kazaar smirked through his cigar smoke. Most everyone except Devvy and her wann-err-apprentices were dressed in Mandalorian armor. He wasn't wearing any either, keeping his ensemble of scuffed boots, ripped (and repaired) pants, and a long-sleeved dark shirt. Kazaar would change into his father's armor when he had the chance. "Frackers're gettin' lazy. Good catch. We'll hit 'em at night when they ain't paying 'ttention."

A big puff of smoke wafted out of his mouth, as he ashed his cigar. "How many o'them go to th'local bar forra drink?"

"Three each night. Sometimes four. All in their black dress uniforms, not armor."

Another smirk from Kazaar. "Awright...Draylshy'a...if ya comin', gonna need ya t'go to the bar. Wear somethin' that ain't armor, bit more flashy. Keep ya armor nearby though." His gaze fell on a Mandalorian wearing green armor with blue piping. "Kranog right? Go with 'er. Keep an eye on those Imps. Once their asses start headin' back t'base, let us know, then keep 'em from arrivin'. Devvy, think ya can get one o'ya wannab-err-apprentices t'go 'long with 'em? A dame'd be good. Keep 'em distracted.

"'Side o'that," He stared at the rest of the assembled Mandalorians."Need 13 volunteers t'go take th'base with me'n Devvy. Less if couple o'her Force usin' pals decide t'come 'long. You'll be outnumbered but I doubt any o'ya think that's o'Force-damned problem. We're getting o'frackload o'credits and it's gonna get bloody. Sure beats sittin' on our asses 'ere."

The Mandalorians stared at Kazaar, then moved their heads towards De'Ville to make sure Mand'alor's orders were in line with what the ex-bounty hunter had planned. Kazaar barely kept his head from shaking, but did let out a gust of cigar smoke. <I>Frackin' protocol.</i>

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Granoi thumped Draylshy'a on the back, the slim woman taking the blow better than one might imagine. "If you are going to the bar, I will go too. Those men will not know what hit them." The grey haired Mando'ade grinned, and the momentary silence was broken. De'Ville spoke quietly to Bretak, and he nodded, turning and choosing thirteen acolytes from the twenty-five or so that were gathered in the staging area of the Haran.

She recognized Aang, Jeng, and Choruk, the other ten were ones she had not met personally, but she had no reason to doubt their abilties. A lifetime - no, generations - on Onderon had honed each of them into hardened killing machines. Seven men, six women, they were all outfit in armor with jetpacks.

"No basilisk?" Bretak asked, and De'Ville shook her head.

"If we don't need the firepower I prefer to leave them in reserve." Each battle droid was priceless, antiques that had been refurbished so many times they were new again. They were beautiful and deadly machines, each unique and patterned after the monstrous boma that called Dxun and Onderon home. They had fifteen of them, and they rested in a hangar on board the Haran.

"I think this is it," she said, turning to Kazaar. "We will take the Ne'ta Prudii and the Dutchman." The light transport and freighter could carry them all with little room to spare, but this was not a pleasure cruise. No one would complain about the cramped quarters, except perhaps Kazaar.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar nodded. Eighteen Mandalorians would be good to assault the base, especially if the Imperials weren't expecting them. It would be good to catch the Empire with their fracking armor around their legs. The original wave wouldn't be the whole 18, it would actually be around 15 because three would be keeping an eye out on the town. He was halfway tempted to keep the attack force even smaller, just to really keep the base off its guard. Kazaar was planning, and it certainly wasn't something he did on a regular basis. It wasn't that his plans were all "blaster and thermal detonators," but the ex-Rebel spy was a known improviser who could go with the flow of the violence like he was some Jizz-wailer playing out a solo. This time, he was planning. It'd all probably go to the seven hells, but he'd did it anyway.

"We'll getta good night sleep, then head out t'morrow. Make sure everyone's got their gear ready t'go. Bretak, want you an' the team goin' into town on th'Dutchman II." He ashed his cigar and started sauntering away. "Don' be late. Devvy if ya 'ear any o'ya wannabes want t'come 'long, make sure they bring their own ship. Ain't gonna sacrifice any space for their sake."

He headed back to the Dutchman II and pulled out his weapons rack. Kazaar had cleaned his blasters only a day before, but he was the kind of merc who wanted to make sure he had all his equipment polished and in tip top shape. For the assault, he figured he'd need a couple detonators, plus 'Ophelia,' his Imperial repeater rifle. Kazaar grabbed 'Dagny,' his EE-3 carbine rifle too. He hadn't used her in a while and it almost felt like she was begging to be taken out for a spin. Like a woman wanting to go on a nice date, 'Dagny' was calling to Kazaar. He knew 'Dagny' and 'Ophelia' would be good to him, just like he was good to them. The bounty hunter broke down 'Dagny' and started to make sure she was clean and all oiled up. 'Trey,' his R7 droid, brought him a glass of bourbon and an ashtray. Kazaar nodded to the droid in what could possibly be thanks, and even gave 'Trey' a pat on the dome. He got a whistle in return, and 'Trey' wheeled off deeper into the ship.

"Gonna have company t'morrow. 'Bout four others. We gotta 'nough room?" Kazaar heard a *warble* and *splat* in reply. "What. Ya 'pect me t'give ya some kinda frackin' guest list t'scope out? Whatta ya some kinda protocol droid 'ere t'greet 'em all? This ain't a Force-damned bed'n breakfast it's o'freighter."

Estelle Russard always thought Kazaar was being too hard on 'Trey,' but it was the nature of the relationship. The R7 droid was a temperamental son of a bitch, and had been that way every since his previous 'owner,' Ashley, had been murdered. In all honestly, Ash's death caused a deep gash inside both 'Trey' mechanical 'heart' and Kazaar's organic one. They both had their pain, even if Kazaar could wipe 'Trey's' away with about 25 creds to the right mechanic. But that wasn't how Kazaar did things. 'Trey' had a personality and Kazaar wasn't the kind of guy to have it destroyed just because the droid like to *blat* back at him. Kazaar never saw 'Trey' as a droid he owned anyway. They were more like family, even if neither would admit it.

Kazaar kept working on the EE-3 until he was sure it was clean and everything worked. He couldn't fire it inside the ship, but the way the trigger responded when he pulled on it whilst unloaded suggested it would shoot just fine. The more used Imperial repeater rifle was next, with Kazaar breaking it down like it was second nature. He cleaned and oiled it without interruption, then put it back together silently. By the time everything was done, it was time to rest up and prepare for his 'passengers' the next day. The trip would take a couple days and give Kazaar the chance to get to know the Mandys a bit more. They probably wouldn't be brothers by the end of the trip, but at least they'd understand each other. De'Ville's Mandalorians trusted each other like family, but saw Kazaar as a bit of an outsider. Kazaar didn't know Devvy's Mandalorians from Mandalore, and sure as hell didn't trust 'em like family. The trip, and the mission, would go a long way to prove whether both sides made the right call in teaming up.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth was silent during the briefing. As usual. It was not his place to speak up or offer unwanted advice, and in this situation he had none to give. Instead he stayed back; watching. There were many interesting facets to this operation, many of which were contained within the interactions between Lilaena and their partner in this endeavor, Kazaar, as well as with her Mandalorians. A fascinating people with a warrior culture that reminded him of his time among the Jiraiya.

The operation itself was hardly as noble as their usual quests. There were no force users to liberate or empower. Instead the target was relevant only because of it's Imperial nature. He hardly felt it was worth their time to attack an outpost just for being Imperial in nature, and helping a Hutt criminal at that was even less appealing, but he had to admit that, deep in his heart, any Imperial was a good target. Revenge was a bitter dish, and he knew he could never put enough of them in the ground to ever equal what they had done.

Killing them would never bring her back; but it was a start.

The meeting concluded, and a plan was struck. A full on attack. Such a Mandalorian thing to do. Their bravery was commendable. He preferred a stealthier approach to things. Sabotage and misdirection, and then striking when the target is vulnerable. Often times he played that exact role for them while they occupied the attention. If there was one thing to say about Lilaena, she was very good at using the resources at her disposal.

The group broke, heading back to the Haran to prepare. Zereth needed little preparation. His gear bag was nestled back in his quarters aboard the ship, separate from his primary armory back on the Star of Oblivion. He took the tools and weapons he wanted and laid them out on the only piece of furniture in the room other than the bed; a short table. Kneeling before it he placed the objects one at a time on a felt mat. His lightsabre, with it's matte black body and it's longer than usual body and elegant simplicity in it's design. Throwing knives were set out next, along with a short sword; three grenades, explosive, smoke, and flash. He contemplated a blaster, but such a weapon always felt so clumsy in his hands.

Satisfied he rose from the table and from his bag he pulled out his tactical suit. His cloak would get in the way during an operation like this, and instead he opted for a tactical uniform that was more practical. Almost military in appearance. He had made modifications to it. Cutting down the sleeves and letting out the pants for more mobility. Removing the hard soles of the boots for something softer and easier to sneak in, should the need arise. There was nothing shiny about the outfit. Everything was black and matte.

The final weapon in his arsenal was a good night's sleep. However, before he would allow himself to rest his body he would first tend to his soul through meditation.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Bretak looked at Lilaena as Kazaar walked away, and she shook her head. He was remaining with the fleet, as her second in command. There were others who could lead, of course, but why risk it? Kazaar, for all his "not a leader" talk, fell into the habit of ordering everyone around and rolling his eyes if someone else seemed to be in charge. He was a good man, but emotionally complicated. Sometimes Lilaena thought that not even Aurelias knew why he felt the way he did about some things.

The next morning Jeng, Draylshy'a, Kranog, and Granoi were assembled outside the Dutchman II where it rested in one of Hanar's hangers. The Ne'ta Prudii was bigger, and the thirteen others had boarded it via airlock a few minutes before on the other side of the Hammerhead-class ship. Lilaena didn't need to make sure anyone was comfortable, but she spent a minute or two talking to each of her warriors. She was an unusual Mand'alor, she knew, and they knew it too. Still, she had their respect, and she had brought them the stars and a new home, and now was leading them as they learned how to provide for themselves in the modern galaxy.

Everything was different than how their stories had painted it, a verbal tradition of campfire stories told over generations was not much to go on. They were doing well, however, and the settlement on Dantooine was practically a walk in the park compared to their previous life on Onderon. In fact, they worried about becoming soft, and too complacent. The mercenary angle for them was a good one, and offered them money and opportunities to stretch their combat skills.

Armor was carefully stowed, jetpacks even more carefully, and the Ne'ta Prudii detached from the Hanar and drifted for a moment before engaging sublights and heading for the jump point.

Jeng smiled at Draylshy'a, who had been picked for the mission by Kazaar simply because she was pretty. She was a very capable doctor, and growing more capable every day that she studied with the medical droid they had acquired. But, like every Mando'ade, she was well versed with weapons and protecting herself. If you were not, invariably something on Onderon would kill you. Granoi, on the other hand, was a woman between the age of 50 and 100, was suntanned with close cropped grey hair, and looked like she chewed nails for fun. She loved to fight, loved to train others to fight, and was one of the fiercest warriors of the group. When she smiled, it lit up her whole face. It wasn't very often.

Kranog was a sturdy dark haired warrior, but Jeng was tall and blond, and one of Bretak's lieutenants. He led the other three onto the Dutchman.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar had his feet up in the cockpit when the Mandalorians made it inside. He'd already poured himself a double of bourbon and was about halfway through a dark cigar. He didn't say anything to the quarter of Mandys, just guided <I>Dutchman II</i> out of the hanger and into hyperspace. 'Trey' *warbled* his way through the ship, offering each of the Mandalorians a drink as only an R7 droid could. Most declined, except Jeng who took a Corellian beer.

It was quiet for a couple hours before Kazaar wandered into the back, and pulled up the holo of the Kothal. The Mandalorians stood around the table, waiting for him to speak. "Got ya headed t'the bar 'cause I wanna know when the stormies're gonna head back. Might be drunk off their asses, but ain't gonna risk it. A drunk fracker with a blaster's almost worst than o'sober one."

He looked up at Draylshy'a. "Bring somethin' they'll notice?"

"A simple off the shoulder shirt and pants." The redhead gave Kazaar a painted on smile which showed how much she loathed the assignment. "Do you think they'll notice?"

Kazaar smirked. <I>Dames.</I>"Red hair o'yours gonna make ya stand out 'nough. That's a compliment, cool ya jets." He raised his right hand in almost a placating manner to make sure Draylshy'a didn't take his head off. Or Granoi for that matter.

"Wouldn't walk in all armored up."

Jeng's voice was naturally gruff. "Now hold on a-"

Kazaar's eyes flashed. "Look pal, I know it's one o'the six Resol'nare (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Resol%27nare), but use ya frackin' thick skull. That armor's gonna raise o'frackuva lotta attention. Ya go waltzing 'round Kothal all decked out, they're gonna wonder why th'frack four Mandys're there. One'll grab 'nough attention, but four? Ya frackin' outta ya minds?"

All four bristled. Kazaar's attitude always bordered on harsh, and this was no exception. He had his way of looking at things. For him, it made sense: if your job isn't to fight, don't fracking look like it. The Mandalorians might see it differently. Granoi in particular looked like she wanted to beat the shit out of Kazaar.

Jeng spoke first. "We'll need to cover an exit in case things get rough. If the Imperials have reinforcements, shouldn't we be prepared?"

Kazaar smirked. "Now ya usin' ya brain. Let ya figure out how ya wanna do it. But keepin' one're two outside ain't o'bad idea. As f'inside, figure only one who ain't gonna be in 'er armor is Red 'ere. Anyone else goes inside'll be able t'hang with ev'rythin' but o'helmet. That work f'ya?"

No one complained, although Kranog looked like he wanted to be ill. He rubbed his left arm like he was trying to keep it from suddenly lashing out and wiping the smirk off Kazaar's face. The bounty hunter noticed it too. "Wanna go?"

Kranog's gaze hardened, but Kazaar's looked relaxed. "Gotta couple days 'til we get t'Kothal. Might getta broken nose're two, but plenty o'bacta 'round. So...ya wanna frackin' go."

**********************************

De'Ville subspace transmitter rang about two hours later.

"Gotta hand it t'ya Devvy, your Mandys sure as frack know how t'fight." Kazaar had a broken nose and his left eye looked puffy. "Empire sure ain't gonna know what hit 'em."

Kranog's wrist was broken, as was his orbital bone when he and Kazaar went through a cheap table set up by the bulkhead. Granoi had a bruise on the side of her face and a bloodshot eye, while Jeng and Draylshy'a didn't seem the worse for wear. "See ya on Lothal inna couple days."

Kazaar cut the connection and smirked at the quartet of Mandalorians. "Bourbon?"

Granoi laughed and grabbed the bottle.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth stowed aboard the Ne'ta Prudii, falling in behind the Mandalorians as they busied themselves stowing their gear. Zereth had no more gear than what he brought on his person. He usually traveled lighter, but he had overloaded himself a bit with extra weapons just in case. This operation could go south really fast if their intel was bad, and he would not want to be caught with his proverbial pants down. Still, in comparison to the Mandalorians he was headed out with little more than a knife and fireworks. He may not have had their respect the way Lilaena did, but he had proven himself a mighty warrior, capable of holding his own and even defeating the Mandalorians in spars. They didn't like to spar with him. They said he was too backhanded and sneaky. Mandalorians liked a straight up fight and Zereth preferred deception and misdirection.

The trip would take some time, so he settled into a corner where he could find a bit of breathing room, closed his eyes, and began meditating.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Hyperspace turned into starlines turned into stars. The ship reverted to real space, Lothal looming in the viewscreen. Lilaena had her pilot, Aang, feed the Imperials their standard merchant package, a ship here on Lothal for picking up goods to export out into the galaxy. She'd even bought a few crates of Lothalian wool that should be waiting for them on the dock.

The Ne'ta Prudii was given clearance, and they landed without incident. De'Ville was the first off, in a non-descript tan hooded cloak, with three of her Mando'ade. Most of the Mandalorians would remain on board until after dark, but she had some work to do with the security cameras at the dock before nightfall.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar strolled down the ramp of Dutchman II, a dark brown cigar in his left hand and a smirk on his face. He wasn't in his armor yet (he'd stored that in his swoop bike), going with dark pants, scuffed boots, and button down black shirt with yellow X's sewn in. It'd actually been a gift from "The Kid" for some such holiday he didn't give a frack about, but appreciated the gesture. The shirt had frays and rips all over from various nicks and blaster bolts but was a sturdy shirt which looked "worn in" instead of ratty. He'd also dyed his hair an almost purplish red. Kazaar's face was all healed up, thanks to the bacta nap he'd taken the day before, although he made sure there was a large scar on his right cheek to distract from the rest of his face.

It hadn't been easy getting the Mandys to take the dunk themselves, until he pointed out to Kranog he'd be drawing too much Force-damned attention if he hung around Kothal looking like a prize fighter. That got Kranog in the tank, although he'd bitch from time to time about the taste of the healing liquid still being in his mouth. Kazaar's smirked at that, then handed him a cigar. "Take th'taste out," the bounty hunter'd promised as he lit the light tobacco stick. Kranog appreciated the gesture, then mentioned a cigar with more flavor would be more tolerable next time. Granoi had been just as petulant about the bacta tank, but Kazaar figured she wasn't gonna scare too many folks with a bruised eye, so he didn't force the issue. 'Sides...it's Red who's gonna get all th'tention.

Jeng was with him, while Kranog and the dames stayed on the ship. Red would slip out of The Dutchman about two hours later through a side port, while Kranog and Granoi would exit when they wanted to (while also bringing Jeng his armor). Kazaar had told Granoi and Draylshy'a to head straight to the bar, while Jeng and Kranog would scout around a bit. Kazaar considered hanging in Lothal for a couple hours but decided it'd be best to head straight to the Imperial compound. Jeng was moving his eyes left and right in a controlled matter, while Kazaar let the corner of his eyes look for threats.

The docking bay manager was a human with light brown hair and a bored expression. "Help you?"

"Yup." Kazaar added a bit of a drawl. "I'm here to drop off a few nerfs for sale. Nothing big, really, jus' looking to see what's out there."

"Not sure what you'll find, friend." The manager gave an easy smile. "But feel free to sell what you can."

Kazaar tried to match the smile, but it still came out as an almost smirk. "I'm sure someone's going to take them. Come on, Ting, let's get going. Market is that way?" He pointed out the metal archway which looked like it'd seen better days. The manager nodded, and Kazaar and Jeng left.

"Ting?"

"Shaddup Jeng, if he'd asked me forra name I woulda given 'im o'fake name and ID. Ain't brought out Kal Cimmerian inna while."

Kazaar briefly saw De'Ville and gave her a nod, just like one trader seeing another. He stuck the cigar in mouth and sauntered out the gate. "C'mon, I wanna check out th'bar 'fore I go do m'own thing."

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth slipped out of the ship without a word, wrapping force illusions around himself as one would put on an old, familiar coat. The moment he stepped off the ramp light was bent around his person and he became a haze in the air. Slipping past the customs officers and starport guards was easily enough accomplished. Each one he passed he implanted the suggested that he wasn't there, and the weak minded became incapable of seeing him as he passed. Security cameras were pushed aside to not look in his direction as he passed, or disabled completely. Electronic surveillance was so much harder to trick.

As soon as he left the docking bay he stepped around a corner for a moment and when he returned he dropped the invisibility and instead wrapped himself in a new illusion, that of an unassuming human. Nothing special about him. Every feature was crafted to be exceptionally average. He followed after Lilaena and Kazaar; keeping his distance and providing a watchful eye. You never know what could happen in an operation like this, and Zereth preferred to be the unknown quantity that is not taken into account when the enemy tries something. The knife in the back, the strike from the shadows. The unseen enemy is the deadliest, as they say.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She nodded to Kazaar and continued on to the technician's building on the far side of the duracrete pad. She smiled and put her arm around the shoulder of the Sullustian tech who was at the door, and they walked inside together. That was the last 'real' image on the security cams. Once inside she sat the technician down, and he drooled vacantly at the wall while she sliced into the security console. A modeling program replaced all instances of her or her people with nondescript citizens, and would continue to do so until she deactivated it.

A few keystrokes erased her trail, and she pulled her datastick from the console, pocketing it. "Thank you for your time." Lilaena patted the Sullustian on the head, and walked out, meeting up with her men. "We're good," she said over the comms, and walked into town. Everyone would filter out of the ship over the next few hours (didn't want the workers at the dock raising an alarm, even if the automatic systems were taken care of), and they'd meet up in the prairie outside the Imperial base around sundown.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

It didn't take Kazaar and Jeng too long to reach the "neighborhood" where Kothal's main Imperial cantina was. To call it a neighborhood was an insult to real neighborhoods. The wide streets were dusty with random droid parts piled up by dirty, dusty metallic buildings. Kazaar glanced up at the three story building across the way of the cantina and nodded towards Jeng. "See if ya can getta good spot up there. Be th'Overwatch're sum'thing."

Jeng didn't answer, but headed around the corner towards the back of the block. Kazaar's com *chirped* about 90 seconds later. "In position. I can see the smoke billowing from your mouth."

Kazaar smirked and sauntered towards the bar. It was dingy-looking, like the rest of the area, but painted white with a bright sign enticing customers in. It's metal door looked like it'd been painted multiple times with a color that probably matched the season (or the owner's mood). Kazaar strode into the darkened light and a *buzz* filled his ears.

"Hey!" A Zeltron with deep red skin and a shaved head yelled from the bar. He was wearing a simple black shirt and pants. "What the hell are you doing, blaster brains! Don't ya see the sign? No krinking blasters!"

The bounty hunter raised his arms. "Th'frack ya mean no blasters? Ain't I gotta right t'protect m'self?"

The bartender wasn't backing down. "I'm not about to have to explain to the Imperial commander why another one of his men was hauled out with blaster holes in his head. No blasters means no blasters. No vibroblades either! If you're that pissed, go drink at home. Alone!"

Kazaar's face was a snarl behind the cloud of cigar smoke. "Go frack yaself." He barged out of the bar, almost knocking over a Bith musician who was coming in. Kazaar waited until the doors were closed to smirk. His black eyes followed the exterior wall until it turned into an alley. Kazaar spotted a few boxes and a busted up serving droid. Perfect.

He keyed his com, as he started heading to where Jeng was perched. "Good news'n bad news, Red. Imps ain't gonna be armed in th'bar. 'Patently one o'those frackers took o'blaster bolt t'the head. Blanket ban on weapons." Kazaar put two gloved hands on the ladder and started climbing. "If one o'ya thinkin' 'bout sneaking o'blaster in, ya can leave it in th'alley."

"Copy." It was Granoi who answered.

Kazaar reached the top of the ladder and the roof of the building. It was a good vantage point which gave Jeng a great view of the bar and the street below. Jeng already was unpacking the blaster rifle he'd hidden inside the large backpack he'd slung over his back. It was an A280 (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/A280_blaster_rifle/Legends) which would take out any stormtrooper who might cause trouble. It was a helluva choice which would give Granoi and Red plenty of cover if it came to it.

"Looks good. Kranog'll be 'ere soon with ya armor."

"Good. Feel pretty naked out here."

Kazaar smirked. "'Least ya ain't runnin' 'round without o'fracking weapon or o'way out."

Jeng's smile was crooked. "True. But Mandalorians are never unarmed."

"Ain't that o'fracking fact." Kazaar started back down the ladder. "Don't get yaself killed."

He took the long way back to the <i>Dutchman II, trying to get more of a feel for Kothal. It was quieter than most places, and almost reminded him of his old home of Tanaab. That was before De'Ville smuggled herself on his ship, of course, and they decided to pay some pirates a visit. Kazaar almost wished he'd worn his wide-brimmed hat, but this wasn't the time. He'd put that on later if he had to. Kothal's streets were almost all wide, which probably had to do with the Empire's occasional troop transport which would go through. The thought of those transports burning to the ground and the stormtroopers roasting alive in their armor made Kazaar smirk. He'd make sure that'd happen, whether it killed him or not.

He made it back to the starport, ignoring the docking bay manager who was trying to be friendly. Kazaar hopped on his swoop bike, which Kranog had moved outside the ship and took off towards the Imperial compound. "Headed out, Devvy," He drawled into his com. "Gonna scope out th'frackers'n get ready f'tonight. See ya there."</i

[Zereth Lancer]

He took his time arriving at the Imperial Pub. A leisurely detour let him take in the area and create a mental map. He theorized on the pathways the Imperials might take when they went running from the Pub back to Base when the red alert sounded. There were a few paths. Most likely they would just take the road. Might have a vehicle. But if they dared take the side streets and alleys there were more than enough ambushed and choke points that would make their numbers count for nothing in the close quarters. That was one of the greatest advantages of the lightsabre; it doesn't require a lot of space to use, and in a mash of bodies you have only to swing and stab until they stopped moving.

After finishing his round, he headed to the Pub, passing Kazaar as he was stomping away, chomping on his cigar. Zereth maintained his illusion as he passed but allowed the area around his eyes to fade away revealing his red and black mottled lenses for Kazaar to recognize him as one of his own. A simple head nod and the illusion tightened back up; hiding his true identity again. Passing through the door he was stopped by the bouncer, who hooked a thumb at the No Weapons sign. Reaching down he pulled open his cloak, revealing all the many weapons in his person. The Zeltron looked him over, nodded his head, and allowed what he believed to be an unassuming, and unarmed, human into the bar.

Taking a position against the wall, Zereth ordered an ale and blended in. "I'm in position." And that was where he would stay until the Imperials showed up and things got heavy.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Darkness slowly fell over Lothal, the lights of Kothal gleaming in the distance. Lilaena adjusted her position on her elbows, looking through macrobinoculars at the Imperial compound. Behind her lurked the majority of her Mandalorians, lower on the slight rise than she was and hidden from sight. She handed the macros to Kazaar. "Looks like we've got our Imperials heading into town."