>>5550584Of course, she might’ve just been taking a page out of Jango Fett’s book, and is otherwise just meandering around the galaxy. Simple woman making her way through the universe…with her extended family at her side.
You frown as you recall something that Ingmar had said earlier. One of his dancers, Yute, had bought her freedom after she helped him and Nomiana take down a criminal in his cantina. They said that they’d take her to ‘somewhere she’d never be a slave again’…a hideaway or bolt hole?
But this kind of speculation won’t get you anywhere. The immediate now is that there’s at least three Mandalorians on Rion. By all demonstrable observations, they aren’t here for you. Without alerting the other Jedi aboard the ship, Trykov made discrete inquiries into the Holonet and sector communications. Beyond wanted posters for Jedi (some of which include the would-be Kessel Conclave), Rion doesn’t appear to have any bounties up for grabs – either on-ground or offered by the natives.
…maybe, just maybe, she’s here for a vacation. No differently than everyone else who’s landed and made planetfall. Hell, maybe she’s here for hired contract work for one of the resorts. However, what you and your padawan had discovered on a nearby billboard…
Ceyla holds the flyer in her hands, clearing her throat with all the nervous gravitas of someone waiting for a trainwreck. It is an advertisement for the local museum’s latest feature, having only arrived a few days ago via a shipment from the Tion Hegemony. Beyond a rotation of Xim artifacts and curios, there’s a certain collection of memorabilia and artifacts on auction.
“‘Authentic Mandalorian relics,’” she reads, swallowing nervously, “‘Assorted curios on display for a limited time from out of Master Od-Ar Dithe’s private collection. For further inquiries, please see the museum staff. Items limited to one per buyer at auction, first come first serve.’”
Completing the flyer is the image graphic of a set of dilapidated, but still visibly recognizable Mandalorian helmet hanging off a mannequin.
“Does the flyer say when that auction is?” you groan.
“…two hours,” answers Ceyla in a tiny voice.
It’s a sucker’s bet that Nomiana’s crew aren’t here for them. And that last bit imposing the limit is promptly going to be ignored. But that if push comes to shove, they won’t be above using violence to get back what in their eyes, is rightfully theirs. Yet she still has enough time in her busy schedule to offer an invitation for a night of dancing...and whatever else might follow.
...what a woman.
(cont.)
