What did they used to do, anyway? Mercenary work, escort runs… and even their contract jobs were top-tier difficulty—assassinating a planet's central mainframe, kidnapping a senator. Now, under the Empire's pressure, they'd been reduced to scraping by on bounties.
There were also many orphans the clan had taken in, living off the money they earned. Mando had once been one of them. He was fiercely loyal to the clan, and whenever he had extra credits, he'd spend it to improve the kids' lives.
"When have I ever made you take a loss?" Amir said.
Mando: Yeah, I've made plenty… with my life on the line…
"Don't tell me you're hitting the Empire again."
"Wow. Smart. Nailed it," Amir said.
Mando: …
"What are we doing?" Mando asked. He knew Amir had money, and he still couldn't resist the temptation.
"Attacking an experimental base. We've already mapped out their intel. The mission is to support a force hitting the site and rescue the kids inside. You'll be with me—given your skills, you'll be fine," Amir said, coaxing him.
"How much is the pay?" Mando asked, getting straight to the only thing he cared about.
Amir remembered he still had some valuables on him. The pile of "gifts" Hondo had brought him hadn't all fit when he packed up, so he'd casually tossed some into his bag.
He rummaged around and pulled out several metal ingots—some he recognized, some he didn't. Hard currency, all of it.
The moment Amir slapped the ingots onto the table, the Mandalorian's helmet went still. He stared at a few of them like he couldn't look away.
He reached out, picked up a silvery-white bar, held it close, inspected it carefully—then tapped it against his helmet and held it near his ear, listening to the hum of the metal's vibration.
Amir realized something was off too and tested the waters. "Don't tell me that's…"
"Beskar," the Mandalorian said, unable to hide his excitement. He stacked three identical ingots together, and at that point his eyes were completely glued to them.
"Ohhh." Amir had been about to call it a down payment, but seeing that reaction, he immediately changed his line. "How about these ingots as the payment?"
Beskar was worth more than most metals and far tougher, but it didn't do much for Amir right now. Better to use it as payment—hire Mando, let him forge new armor plates, get even harder to kill.
The Mandalorian fell silent, but anyone could tell he was tempted.
Beskar was precious to them now. Mandalore had been occupied by the Empire—without special channels, you couldn't get any. Right now, aside from his beskar helmet, most of Mando's armor was just standard alloy.
New plates were rare. No Mandalorian disliked new armor.
"Deal," the Mandalorian finally said. The job was dangerous, but it was worth taking the gamble.
Amir sneakily checked his bag. Heh—there were still a few more beskar ingots. And there should be some on his ship too. One day he'd make himself something nice.
Quietly.
Preferably when the Mandalorian wasn't looking.
The moment the deal was struck, Kain walked in.
"Well?" Amir asked.
Kain laughed. "In Mos Eisley, someone offered a high price for Hondo alive. I already made the sale." He set a small pouch of credits on the table.
"And that thing?" Kain asked.
Hondo—locked up on the Traveler for several hours—finally confessed why he'd been in the Hoth asteroid belt.
He'd infiltrated that pirate outfit for months, even climbed to second-in-command, all for a piece of information they had. The instant he realized the pirate captain was dead, he decided to move early—use Amir to steal it and then escape.
Now the stolen intel, along with the pirates' "family fortune," was sitting on Amir's ship.
Amir had thought it would be something valuable—or some galaxy-shaking secret. But when Hondo proudly said what it was, Amir was disappointed.
Then, in a fit of irritation, Amir told Kain to find Hondo's enemies and dump the intel to them.
"What do we need spice storage coordinates for? I'm not trying to become a spice dealer," Amir said helplessly.
During their spice runs, those pirates had gradually pinned down the biggest spice-smuggling operation in the galaxy—the Pyke Syndicate's storage base. They'd been plotting a major score.
And Hondo just happened to set his sights on them.
Steal the intel, raid the Pyke base, walk away overflowing with credits—the plan had been airtight. Hondo had been ready to make his big play.
He just hadn't expected something to go wrong.
Any leak about a Pyke spice storage site would drive the entire underworld insane. Even grabbing a little would mean a fortune most people couldn't imagine. If someone hit the whole stockpile, they'd become filthy rich overnight.
But Amir wasn't interested.
"Figured," Kain said after thinking it over. "But we can throw this information into the wild and let the big players tear each other apart."
"We can," Amir said, eyes lighting up. "We sell the intel for a premium—Crimson Dawn, the Hutts, bounty hunters, pirate crews—let them circle the spice scum and bite each other to pieces."
Kain and Amir exchanged a knowing grin.
"Leave it to me," Kain volunteered. "I've been bored lately anyway." He already hated those criminal syndicates—so the chance to make them slaughter each other had him energized.
The roast arrived quickly, and everyone dug in—leaving only No. 32 and the Mandalorian sitting there, facing each other in silence.
"I'm leaving," Mando said. He couldn't sit there anymore. Another minute and he'd go insane watching them eat.
"Don't go—just lift the helmet a little. It's fine," Amir called after him.
Mando felt his own empty stomach, looked at the golden, crispy roast dripping with fat, and finally caved. He lifted the helmet just enough to expose his mouth and ate in small bites.
Millisyn had already shoved several pieces into her mouth. Her face was smeared with grease, and while she chewed, her eyes squeezed shut in bliss.
￣▽￣
At last, the meal ended. The Mandalorian left happily with the beskar, waiting for Amir's call.
The others returned to Obi-Wan's place and rested aboard the Traveler.
The next morning, Kain left at dawn with the case containing the intel.
Obi-Wan reminded him again not to forget his assignment—keeping an eye on Luke.
And just like that, another day of training Millisyn began. It went extremely well. Millisyn had remarkable talent—she could already use the Force to lift small stones.
She was thrilled. Feeling herself improve moment by moment was the best motivation there was. After that, when it came time to meditate, Millisyn could even sit quietly for…
Well.
Ten minutes.
They didn't wait long. Only two days passed before Ahsoka called Amir.
It was finally time to begin.
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🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
📢 The Force Calls! 📢
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