Prologue : What Brought Them Together

Sash Coth sips her hot morning drink appreciatively. Ahhh, she sighed, just what I needed. She smiled to herself as she thought about what happened to her last night. For what seems to be a curse for her when she wanted to go onboard an interstellar shuttle; she always took the wrong one. And the last shuttle brought her here, to Catacrom 4, around midnight last night according to the planet’s standard chronometer. She knew instantly she knew she was on the wrong shuttle when she looked out of the window when the shuttle was in orbit prepping to land; the planet was green. The planet she had chartered for was supposed to be a volcanic and tectonically unstable world. She didn’t mind being on the wrong planet as long as the planet seems promising enough for her for an exciting adventure, so she got out of the shuttle. She stood in the middle of the streets, excited being on an unknown planet, feasted her eyes on everything that she sees; wondering what kind exciting adventures awaits. Unfortunately, to her disappointment, the settlement looked like a ghost town except for a few pedestrians walking about. She stopped a male Twi’lek that was walking towards her, asked where she was and where the nearest and cheapest cantina around here is. The Twi’lek burst out laughing saying that there’s only one cantina around here which is “The Hatchet”, showed her the directions and continued walking while laughing out loud. It took her some time her bearings correct, and once she entered the establishment, she stowed her sporting blaster rifle in the gear stowage compartment, made fast friends with the barkeep, ordered a drink and have been here ever since, wondering what she should do next.

She smiled again, drank some more and sat the drink on the table. She looked around the cantina; she sat at the back corner of the main room, away from the foyer. The bar dominates the room, providing the owner to survey his clientele. On her left are empty seats leaning on the wall all the way to the foyer. On her right, empty dark booths littered neatly on the entire right wall. The cantina was empty except for the barkeep and the only other patron who entered a few minutes ago. He seems to be hungriest person she ever saw or he’s having the most delicious meal in the universe, which she seriously doubts, and was sitting at the bar counter on a stool facing the cantina’s main foyer where patrons enter and his back facing the empty booths. The barkeep was busy cleaning some mugs of his beside the hungry patron. She studied the other patron carefully so as not to be noticed. It looks like the hungry patron seems to be oblivious of his surrounding except for food on his plate. She knew him of being a Taung, the original species of the Mandalorian clans.

The Taung was well built, toned muscles on his arms and thighs, the only areas visible of skin, other areas he was clad in dark brown Mandalorian clothes with a combat jumpsuit neatly tucked hidden under his clothes, a bandolier was latched around his body from his left shoulder to his right waist and he was wearing heavy combat boots. She later noticed a stun baton was carefully concealed in one of the bandolier pouches. Her eyes literally danced with excitement.

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As he kept his weathered-looking blaster rifle into the stowage compartment, he noticed another sporting blaster rifle inside, curious but not bothered about the rifle, closed the compartment, he made covert movements to ensure his stun baton is properly concealed and walked towards the opposite side of the bar. The barkeep didn’t notice the concealed weapon. Good, now to find out the owner of that rifle I saw..., pleased that his training in the stealth arts are useful, he continued walking towards the dark booths, he scanned the entire room before sitting at a stool he saw near the bar counter, facing back against the empty booths. At the corner of his right eye, he noticed a female Zabrak sipping from her mug, smiling to herself. As he was about to sit, with his T-visor shaped helmet on, he took a covert glance at her; she was slender but not skinny, slightly built, she wore an all black combat jumpsuit over tight-fitting but flexible clothes, wore a bandolier as a belt. She looked harmless but he knew better. She must be one hell of fighter, impressed, he noticed one of her main advantage, and she must be fast too. Confident that she wasn’t a threat, Solus opened his Mandalorian helmet. He saw the barkeep went wide-eyed and noticed he took a step back. Solus took note of the barkeeps reaction but openly ignores it and ordered a meal.
They’re still afraid of us, he mused, ...what? A couple of months after the war? As the barkeep prepares his meal, his mind wondered back at what happened in these past few recent months.

His clan was among the few that did not heed the summons of the new Mandalore. They fervently believed that the upcoming war was not the supposed prophesied “Last Great Battle” as Mandalore the Ultimate had once said it was. And once they saw survivors who returned to their homeworld, Mandalore, dishonored after their defeat in the war and as the news of the demise of their so-called great leader, they knew that Mandalore the Ultimate had lied. They suspect that the Mandalorians were goaded to start a crusade against the Republic. But they do not know who... For that, the clan leader chose the youngest and brightest fighters to perform a sacred quest; to scour the known galaxy in search of the existence of the so-called prophesy, and as well as to investigate and find out the force behind the start of the Mandalorian Wars. The clan held a tournament among the youngsters and Solus proved himself by becoming the champion. The clan leader sends him off but before he did, the elder told Solus ab-

The plate that was silently placed in front him brought him out of his reverie. He paid the barkeep and ate with gusto, famished, and concentrated on his food his food, too disturbed to recall what the elder told him. Too deep into his own thoughts or into his food; he was oblivious of a newcomer who just walked into the main room…

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“Huh?” Wry asked, “sorry, could you in speak in Basic please? I don't understand Huttese”.

The barkeep flushed and spoke in Basic, “I said, no weapons allowed, Jedi! Not even your laser sword!” he pointed behind Wry, “put it in the container there!” He looked behind him and for the first saw the container. Then he remembered his stern yet beautiful master's face, Jane, giving him a lecture about A Jedi's lightsaber is his most precious possession lesson. I'm not going through THAT again, he rolled his eyes. He prepared his best smile and turned, “Why don't I leave it with you? It'll be safer”. He picked up his lightsaber from his side and in one motion, handed the weapon as well as wagging his fingers slightly, bringing the weight of the Force into his voice.

"Why don't you leave it with me? It'll be safer", the barkeep obediently repeated. Wry gave him a perfect smile, walked towards the barkeep, sat at the stool in front of the barkeep and handed over the weapon into the barkeep's outstretched palm. The barkeep held the lightsaber awkwardly and stashed somewhere under the counter in front of him. "What'll be?", he asked."Anything" the Jedi replied. The barkeep shrugged, placed a glass in front of the Jedi and poured an amber liquid into it. He took one good look at the Jedi, a young Jedi in the usual Jedi colored brown robes. He has a long straight black hair that reaches to his broad shoulder with that long single braid tied behind his right ear, signifying his rank as a novice in the Jedi Arts. He has two different eye color; his left left eye is dark brown while his right is dark maroon. His skin is just partially tanned and has a long straight face with a calm likeness upon it. The barkeep then noticed a scar on his left wrist, he guessed that it was from a knife or some sort. The Jedi noticed him looking at his scar, he shrugged and continued busying himself at the counter.

Wry took a sip of the drink, it tasted alien. He placed the glass on the counter and sighed. Why is it that everytime my Master has an assignment, I'm forced to go on this wild Bantha chase looking for a rumored holocron at the edge of the universe?, he grudgingly thought. Master Delacroid believes I'm not ready, he rolled his eyes, okay...I skipped most of those boring lightsaber lessons, but I can't help it! It's so damn boring and repetitive! I know I'm already good enough...Why can't I follow my master and help her out?

He was brought out of his reverie by sudden crash near the entrance of the cantina...Exasperated, he wondered, What now?