That morning, the first thing Curyan did was go to the garage to check on Birikad. The mechanics shot him their usual irritated looks, the fact that a giant war droid with a missile launcher for a face was still looming over them still not sitting well. He ignored them, as usual. He paid them well enough for the storage space, didn't he? They had no cause to fear... unless he ordered the Basilisk otherwise, of course.

"Any news, al'verde?" Birikad's greeting was the same as it ever was.

"Not yet," Curyan responded simply. Much had actually happened since they last spoke, but the droid was referring to a specific topic. And on that front, his progress remained pitiful. "I have enough saved to hire an investigator, if I wish. But I fear it would be as fruitless as the last time."

"Ha! I remember that he did not wish to pay the credits back when he failed. That was a fun fight."

"It was." Before he could say any more, his datapad buzzed. Curyan frowned down as he opened the message, seeing that it was from Janice. He scrolled through quickly, only interested in the relevant details.

New Message wrote:

"Fernad E'ta...  the station chief on Geonosis during the rise of Manda'lor the Lesser. He is also the current station chief of Nar Shaddaa. This man possesses a wealth of information on Imperial Intelligence operations. Your mission is to recover that information and, by whatever means, remove all evidence of your intervention. The Mandalorian Rindzer will lead the mission with Mister Orvocono supporting him in an 'advisory' role...."

Wonderful. Verad, another Mandalorian, and a target who had been around during the time of the Lesser? Curyan knew he was not chosen for this mission by accident. Doubtless his cousin wished to lecture him on the virtues of being a "good" Mandalorian, or merely try to make him feel guilty by example. Rindzer was not a name he knew, which was a small blessing. Other Orvoconos did not look kindly on the clan deserter, his name reviled among the few survivors.

"Looks like more credits are on the way. I'll see you again," he said to Birikad, leaving the garage.

Half an hour later, he strode into Hangar E-27. His armor had changed little in the last twenty years and he found no need to alter it for this mission, even though the lack of color and clan insignia would doubtless not go unnoticed by Verad or this Rindzer. Let them judge him. He had good reason not to display who he was, and he had fought enough in the old crimson red that it would mark him just as much as any emblem. Besides, it didn't affect his ability to use the two flechette shotguns one bit, did it?

Curyan made his way to the appropriate ship, helmet under his arm for now.

Back inside the 'Fury' it's owner and Pilot - a white-haired, white-skinned woman of about forty, was cursing under her breath while she frantically tried to make the place ready for company.  Unfolded laundry was tossed into closets,  the coffee spills on the kitchen counter were hastily wiped down.  She sprayed some detergent on an unknown stain on the carpet of the main room, and hoped it would scrub itself.
 
Rindzer had shown up just minutes before with the news that she'd be taking off soon with a crew, on a mission he'd just found out about himself. And just when he'd shown up was when the message came through on her comm unit informing her of that fact. 

And here she'd been planning to take some time off, to go park the Fury on a cliff on the uninhabited side of Ord Mantell for a few days and just chill, away from it all. But no...

Damn that Janice.

"Ni'gai Tsikala." Tsikala stated with a very irritated undertone, "Ni Rindzer'ad, Rindzer'vod. Rindzer ni'alor'ad. Ni Mando. Tayli'bac?" [I am Tsikala. I am Rindzer's daughter, Rindzer's sister. Rindzer is my Captain. I am Mandalorian. Got it?]

"Udessi!" [Calm down!] Rindzer said as he held up his hand towards Tsikala, "Save it for the Sith."

Rindzer grinned as he looked back to Curyan, "She is still young and head strong, but she is an expert marksman. She will be covering us from afar with her rifle."

Tyron wrote:

A daughter--that was no surprise. She was very quick to defend her worth, so she was either useful or arrogant. Oftentimes it was the latter, but a Mandalorian would not let someone, even a blood relative, call themselves the same unless they had earned it.

"I hope you cover us well, ad'ika," Curyan said to the girl--mostly to see if the word for 'little soldier' would be enough to throw her into another fit. The phrase was often used to refer to one's son or daughter... which of course reminded him that it had been about three years since he'd said it. There was no point dwelling on that--no point thinking how lucky Rindzer was to have his legacy at his side right now.

Instead he added, "You seem pretty excited about the chance to take on the Sith. Not a fan of being used as their meat-shields, I take it? Me neither."

"Not in particular, no." Rindzer smiled as he held his hand out to Curyan, "Rindzer Aay'han."

Behind him Tsikala said nothing, but her glaring angry expression said it all as she stared at Curyan. A moment later she shook her head and cleared her expression. She quickly slipped her pistol back together and slid the weapon into her holster. She then stood up and picked up the weapons create she had been sitting on with both hands.

"May I load?" She asked Rindzer.

"Elek vod." Rindzer replied.

With that she carried the crate up the ramp and into the ship.

rindzer wrote:

"Rindzer Aay'han."

"Curyan Orvocono." He shook the other man's hand firmly. "Yes, the same clan as Verad. No--it doesn't mean he'll give me any special treatment. Guarentees that he'll like you better than me, in fact."

There was more, but he wasn't going to go admitting to other Mandalorians that he was a deserter. Even though this one didn't seem to like the Sith, there was probably a distinct difference between what he'd done and what Curyan had done. Rindzer wouldn't like the current Mandalore, but would he have put himself above his clan and refused their call to battle?

Curyan's son had come first. But he had no intentions of explaining that to Verad. His cousin would want to see the boy used--just like the Jedi or the Sith would.

"Think we should go meet the pilot?" He'd met Adessa at that party, but never seen her in the field. He didn't know what to expect.

Keshi wrote:

"So. This is the place I'm guessing. Keshani Kavos; since everyone here apparently already knows half my life history, I'll drop the alias."

"Heh." Rindzer stated with a short laugh, "I don't know anything about you. Other than that someone in an air conditioned office thinks you are a good slicer. Are you?"

Rindzer turned to Adessa as she descended the ramp. He gave her a nod and smiled, "Vod. It's good to see you again."

Curyan found himself chuckling, both at Rindzer's challenge to the girl and her reply. She certainly didn't lack for self-confidence--he approved of that.

"We'll see if you can back that up when it counts," was all he said. She could have been just boasting, after all. He did not approve of boasting when one lacked the skills to back it up.

The pilot descended before he could enter the ship, and he inclined his head at her. "Adessa. Haven't seen you since that party." As far as pilots went, he was relatively happy that it was her. So many of the younger sort thought they were the best thing to ever wrap their fingers around a set of controls, but she had actual experience under her belt.

If anyone were to say to Verad that he as running behind schedule, he'd have them fed to rancors if he was feeling generous. The fact of the matter remained that he was, in fact, running behind, but he also had his reasons. He knew Curyan was going to be on this mission--it was the whole reason he accepted the job--and Verad had a few...matters...to discuss with his old clansman. If the older Mandalorian was lucky, Verad might even let him live. Nothing was decided yet, other than Verad would make Curyan pay for what he did to his clan, new and old.

Ask anyone who had crossed him before, and they would be quick to tell you Verad was very good at holding grudges. What Curyan did to clan Orvocono was unforgivable, and something Verad would never let the older man forget. However, what he did to Cinia (so far as Verad was concerned) was even worse, and demanded action--nothing too much...yet.

Off in the distance, he could see the ship, and the recognizable shapes of Rindzer and Curyan along with two women he did not know. It was of little matter who they were, and he figured he'd introduce himself after he...introduced...himself. He checked to make sure his beskar'gam was properly on. He'd been feeling sentimental when he packed, and went with his favorite armor: a blood red base with black trim. It was nice, traditional, and with more kills than most of squad of CTE soldiers combined. With one last readjustment of his armor, and a crack of his knuckles and neck, Verad made is way over to the group trying to stay out of direct sight.

When he reached the group, he was nearest to Curyan. One of the women had been nice enough to block the entry to the ship. Verad tapped Curyan on the shoulder, then threw a hook at the man's face, followed by a second one to where the man might dodge if the first one missed. The hate in his voice made no attemt to hide his contempt for the mand, "Aruetii.; chakaar; dar'manda. [Traitor; grave robber; not Mandalorian] You should have kept a lower profile, mate. Instead, you keep giving me reasons to want to see you dead."

Turning to the others, he smiled as though his mood was instantly calmed. "Sorry about that. Now, who all do we have here? Rindzer I know, along with...that," he jabbed a thumb in the direction of Curyan "But the rest of you I don't."

An amused smile crept over Rindzer's face as Verad completed his introduction. At this point Tsikala walked down the the ramp, her eyes looked for a few careful moments studying the newcomers. She then promptly picked up the last of the two crates and moved to go back up the ramp.

Adessa barely acknowledged Keshani's nod. She was occupied first with wondering what the Director of Security was doing here, and secondly, why he'd struck Curyan. The answer came to her a moment later, and she clamped her jaw shut, 'it's because he's Verad Orvocono and he can do what he wants, idiot!' said the voice of reason in her head.

Turning to the others, he smiled as though his mood was instantly calmed. "Sorry about that. Now, who all do we have here? Rindzer I know, along with...that," he jabbed a thumb in the direction of Curyan "But the rest of you I don't."

"I'm Adessa Tinler,  pilot.  Pleased to finally meet you, sir,"  she said respectfully, trying to hide her nervousness.  In the 20-plus years she'd been working for the Syndicate,  she had never once had the occasion to speak with this man face-to-face, and here he was at her ship.  There had to be a reason, and most of the reasons she could think of did not lead to happy thoughts.

Verad smiled at Curyan's reaction. If there was any honor left in the man, he wouldn't show pain...though that didn't mean the older man felt nothing. Verad was never one to pull his punches, and he had less reason to do so wherever Curyan was concerned. A snarl was the only reaction he had to Curyan's excuse. If there was any truth to them didn't matter. The older man, perhaps, thought he could be a thorn in Verad's side. Verad would show just how big of a thorn he could be, too.

He noticed the woman who gave him a pleading look. From the brief glance he could tell she was beautiful and refined, the kind of refined that came from money. They were also two things that had little place in a mission such as this, so he decided that she must have other skills. Most likely slicing, given the scope of the mission. If so, that would make her Keshani. She never gave him the chance to find out for certain, but there would be plenty of time for that later.

Adessa's nervousness was clear to Verad, though he took no offense to it. It was a common reaction, after all--even by those that knew him well. "Ah, yes, Adessa. I've heard a lot about you, funny we've never met after all these years, eh? Nice ship."

Verad had never been one for small talk, and was quite happy when the dock workers arrived. After a quick, questioning look to Rindzer, he followed them into the ship.

A snarl was more response than Curyan was expecting to his argument--well, verbal, at least. He hadn't ruled out another blow. The fact that he was telling the truth would be of no consequence. Luckily, Verad didn't appear resolved to waste that much time on his former clan-mate.

The crate with the Imperial logo drew his attention. Doubtless something in there would come in handy before this job was over. As everyone else had already entered the ship, he did too.