The building that has become the Chyron Embassy is not the tallest in Port Kasiya, but it surpasses all others in the city's northeast. Basalt sidewalks smelling ever so slightly of brimstone underline a time-worn facade that's decrepit from the ground floor to a dozen stories up, then morphs into a modern steel-and-glass construct with a narrow landing platform extending an easy 300 metres high over the road. Patrons have to crane their heads back quite far to see it, though, and they are often more interested in stepping through the scratched but sturdy double doors which may be flanked by clients, bouncers, drunks, and duct-taped living warnings.

Seven shallow steps lead down onto the carefully dilapidated hardwood main bar floor, though "bar" might not be the right word anymore. Mismatched tables and chairs litter the room, while more comfortable niches with couches and two smaller sidebars occupy most of the walls. On the left side, an extending stage with a pole leaves no doubt about the kind of entertainment provided here, while on the right, a discreet exit leads to rooms best suited for negotiations or private parties.

Straight ahead, between the wings of a formerly grand foyer staircase mostly frequented by pretty people with little clothing, resides the curved main counter as an island, with the dark niches in between leading to the back - but one cannot shake the feeling that entry comes with a price that might not be paid fully by coin. The staff are unerringly smiling people with hard eyes, much like the owner, the Chyron’s Chancellor, Jorm Na'trej. This bar, this whole building, is their domain, their trap and their hunting range.

One instantly realises that any wish, any pleasure and desire, is just a word and a payment away.

One knows that this place is the antithesis to every value taught and preached among normal people.

One is greeted.

"Welcome to the Playground."

The sturdy double doors opened, forcing Anders to scrunch his nose. The inside greeted him with the intoxicating stench of alcohol, sweat, and a distinct lack of shame from any involvement with the establishment, patron or otherwise. The sour taste in the air lingered on the tip of his tongue, the music beating against his ribs. Servers and customers alike criss-crossed as he descended the seven steps into the main bar area, some leaving after a hard evening of unerring smiles and emptied wallets.

Mos Eisley had nothing on The Playground.

Anders was far from impressed by the decor. Mismatched tables and chairs littered the bar, if you could even call it that. The Chiss took note of the left side of the room where a pole being used by a barely-clothed Pantoran was surrounded by degenerates ogling her beauty.

It sickened him.

If you took the worst qualities of the galaxy's most notorious cantinas and put them in one location, you would create The Playground. It astonished him for a moment how such a location could serve as Chyron's embassy, but then Anders remembered who owned the establishment.

Jorm was like the king rat sitting atop his throne of filth.

The Chiss didn't speak to a soul until he reached the bar counter, lest he say or do something he would regret. He was, after all, a professional, and causing diplomatic tensions between Taldryan and Chyron was a headache he didn't want to deal with as the newly-minted Director for the Office of Secret Intelligence.

Still, if Anders had his way, this entire establishment would be burned to the ground with everyone inside it. None would be missed. He'd be doing the Taldryan Republic a favour.

A burly bartender, a Dowutin wearing a sweat-stained tank top, addressed Anders as he placed his hands on the bar.

"What do you want, pal?"

Anders adjusted his glasses. "Good afternoon. I'm here to speak with Aay'han Agrona Beviin."

The Dowutin leaned in closer, looking the Inquisitor up and down. BUDD-E, the little droid on Anders' shoulder, leaned back away from the bartender's repugnant face.

"Yeah, you look like the guy she wants. Uptight, arrogant, and full of himself."

It was a good thing Anders was a Chief Inquisitor. The temptation to choke the smirk off of the bartender's face with the Force was all too tempting a prospect. Alas, he had learned restraint.

"Come with me," the Duwotin beckoned Anders to follow. "Don't suppose the droid is for sale?"

BUDD-E let out a series of annoyed beeps.

"No, it is not," Anders then turned to the little droid on his shoulder. "Buddy, what have I said about your language?"

He received a little whimper from the droid into his ear.

They approached another exit to the right of the bar, this one leading to a set of private rooms used for private deals. They stopped at the end of the hallway.

"She's in here. She's been expecting you."

"Really now? I would never have guessed. It's not as if she requested my presence or anything like that."

He entered a smaller room, and if Anders was a betting man, he'd say it was probably the smallest in the establishment at ten feet each way. It was scarcely filled and dimly lit, having only a square wooden table and two chairs on either side. Again, they were mismatched, because of course they were.

It didn't matter. There, sitting with her feet up on said table with a drink in her hand and not a care in the world was his entire reason for being in this miserable hellhole.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Anders asked.

Aay'han shrugged. "I am in here." She took a large swig of her drink, some trickling down her ghostly-pale cheek.

Anders shook his head. "Of course you are…"

Why was he surprised?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aay'han tilted her head. "If I'm old enough to kill, I'm old enough to drink. That's what Trinnie always says."

"Last I checked, most four-year-olds aren't old enough to kill. Then again, you're a very special case, aren't you? It must be hard being grown by unnatural means."

Anders watched Aay'han closely as her eyes widened.

"I'm very good at killing, so that means I'm very good at drinking too, right?" Aay'han took another swig of her drink, emptying the glass. "How do you know about me, anyways?"

"My dear, do not insult my intelligence. I am the Director of the OSI and a Chief Inquisitor. Unlike you, I do my research," Anders took a deep breath. "What exactly do you want? What was so important that it required meeting in this cesspit."

"I need you to help me find someone, someone important. Appius Taldrya Wight. Have you ever heard of him?"

"Excuse me?" Anders scowled at her. "Do I look like a Mandalorian to you? Do i look like a mercenary for hire?"

Aay'han tilted her head.

The Chiss continued. "To answer your question, yes, I am aware of who the former Supreme Chancellor is, and I am not going to waste valuable time and resources hunting him down when the current Supreme Chancellor has plans to test the might of the Clan in a public outing that is bound to end in disaster. No doubt I will be the one cleaning up the mess she makes. If you want to find him, do it yourself."

Aay'han slammed a hand on the table. "You don't understand! I've tried, but I can't find him!"

"He's also no longer on Taldryan's roster and therefore is no concern of mine."

Aay'han shot to her feet. "Aren't you an Inquisitor!? Can't you just check one of your database thingys!?"

"That is a complete abuse of my power, and I am not going to waste my time looking for a man who is not important anymore and clearly does not want to be found, least of all by the likes of you."

Aay'han's lower lip trembled, his hands clenching into fists. "I…"

"I believe we are done here. I am not going to indulge a brat who doesn't seem to know her place any further. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Anders turned to leave as BUDD-E waved goodbye to her with one of its mechanical legs. The Chief Inquisitor had barely taken a step through the door when his eyes widened, sweat formed on his brow followed by the increased thud of his heart.

Fear. He felt genuine fear. It numbed him, making him pause in the doorway

His senses only returned to him when he heard BUDD-E screech into his ear following the distinct snap-hiss of a lightsaber behind him.

Years of intense training drilled into him the practice needed to defend himself as he grabbed his curved hilt. Crimson-red met the putrid green ambience of the Sith Mandalorian's saberstaff as Anders backed into the hallway, using his superior reach and speed advantage to maintain distance from the chaotic flurry of Aay'han's swings. Her blades pierced into the walls on either side of them as the Chiss parried or flat-out avoided them with one-handed deftness. Sparks hissed and jittered from the light and sound systems embedded into the wall, leaving glowing orange lightsaber trails in their wake.

Anders scoffed at Aay'han's display as the two entered the main bar area, drawing the attention of the customers and staff to their battle. To him, she reeked of desperation, and lacked the refinement and elegance he sought in an honourable opponent. To him, her saberstaff was little more than an intimidation tactic rather than something that accentuated her style, no matter how many times she spun it towards him. It was barbaric rather than elegant, sloppy rather than precise. Everything he despised in a lightsaber duel.

Still, she'd managed to press him this far, and she was better at Juyo than anyone her age had any right to be. He at least had to credit her with that. To pay her back in kind, Anders lunged forward with a stab, aiming for the young woman's heart, though Aay'han managed to force the Chiss' lightsaber away from him and retaliate with a strike of her own, though it was slow. The effort of chasing the new OSI Director in the hallway in heavy armour was catching up with her.

The Chiss inwardly smirked. This was his moment. He reached out with the dark side, tightening the malevolent energy around Aay'han's throat. The sound of her gasps was like sweet music in his ears as he lifted her into the air, and then tossed her away.

The young Beviin crashed into a set of mismatched tables and chairs being used for a game of sabaac, much to the chagrin of the players.

Anders closed his eyes as he began weaving the tendrils of the Force into Aay'han's mind. He couldn't believe how easy it was, her mind like an open book as he created the telepathic link between them.

'If this is the best you can do to change my mind, then for your own sake, you should surrender. You wouldn't want to disappoint Appius more than you already have.'

Anders watched as Aay'han clumsily staggered back to her feet. She seethed at him, coughing, then baring her teeth.

He prodded further. 'Shall I take that as a no?'

"SHUT UP!" Aay'han activated her jetpack and leapt into the air, screaming like a possessed wampa as she brandished her amban rifle.

Bringing up the rifle came as instinct came to any striking predator. Her hands lifted and the shot made a loud CRACK as the round was discharged.

Anders observed in the fraction of seconds he had to react and quickly realised the bullet flew past his ear. The reverberation made him instinctually flinch away but he was confident it was a miss, even with the ringing in his ear.

He would have benefitted from paying more attention than he normally did.

The round glanced off the mirror behind him and flew back across his other shoulder. It was only when he heard the sad mewling echo of his companion that he realised what she had actually been aiming for.

BUDD-E fell to the ground twitching spasmodically with the damage.

"Did you think you were the only one in the room that knew what they were doing?" Aay'han pressed her words into his mind with such force it felt like an assault on his senses.

The pause of the whole affair opened his mind enough to give her the edge she needed. She laced the words with a permeable fear that didn't take a form but rather acted as a further assault on his senses as he momentarily floundered once more.

"Did you think you were the only one with that party trick?" Her rifle was already back on her back, pale fingers gripped her lightsaber once more.

A flash of neon green jarred him back to the present once again. The movement flowed far better than she had shown thus far, if he didn't know any better Anders thought she was trying to get on his good side.

Rage bubbled up inside him as his gaze flitted between his opponent and his damaged companion. From a cursory glance, the damage was repairable at least. The fact she had done it on purpose only added further layers of complications, the Mandalorian was more professional than he had initially anticipated.

Had she even been drinking alcohol? He had assumed that was the case, but there was no proof. He was surprised she didn't charge immediately, showing far more restraint than before; she waited.

Her body half faced him, the point of the first blade in a downward angle, her weight shifting from front to back foot in anticipation. He could see the Hazel hue of her eyes slowly bleeding away as crimson started to take hold and dominate her.

How could he deny her?

As he rolled through all his thoughts he wasn't entirely convinced that they were his own, as though she bled it all into his mind without even trying.

A lack of refinement.

His lightsaber was quick to ignite yet again, having not even realised it had been switched off. In his haze, he had not noticed but it was yet another thing he'd add to his think-about later box.

Attacks came thick and fast, jabs to try and poke holes in her defences, but this was not Aay'han's usual fighting, almost exclusively favouring offence. For her, this was just another small challenge.

Slowly but surely the pair picked up the pace. Footwork, danced over obstacles and around them when they were too big but they always found one another again.

The sound of their weapons impacted with a spark of energy, a waft of smog from her blade eliciting a cough which was acrid as it was breathed in.

At this point they'd almost reached the stride they had been at before, Aay'han moving more and more into her combative style as the fight took more and more concentration.

Whilst Anders poked and prodded at her, she finally snapped, lunging forward to strike at the hilt of his lightsaber. Anders countered savagely, using his height to his advantage he kicked her with the full force of his boot sending her hurtling into a pile of turned-over tables.

The impact sent the air rushing from her lungs with a gasping wheeze. She'd be damned if his boot would be the reason she'd pass out.

It took most of her willpower to get back up, her body swayed as blood rushed to her head sending her vision into a swimming haze.

Anders didn't pause, he pushed forward intent to force her submission. Aay'han had a second of instinctual warning from the Force as she dropped to her knees.

His blow burnt through the wall, but before he could withdraw to strike again she lunged forward grabbing at his wrist and using him to leverage herself to her feet.

Her head leant back and snapped forward using all the momentum she could muster. The pain rippled across her nerves only worsened her vision but the satisfaction of hearing the crack of his nose breaking was almost the ultimate contentedness. The blood that dripped from his nose only added to it until she realised he was holding her up.

"I will not yield!" With what little pride she had she found her feet, readying for the next volley of blows.

Anders seethed, the need for retribution rising, overflowing, amplified by the pain of the growing headache. Who did this little wench think she was, attacking him like this!? It was nothing but barbarism, plain and simple, an animal fighting for survival after preying on something bigger than itself.

Pathetic.

He readied his lightsaber, intending to pierce it through her abdomen.

"Then you will die!"

"HEY, YOU TWO! NO UNAUTHORISED FIGHTING IN HERE!"

Anders recognised the voices of the large Duwotin bartender from earlier. It was a momentary distraction, but one that Aay'han was so desperately clawing for. She swung herself forward, kicking Anders in his arm with enough force to make him drop her. She landed on her back with a hard thump, scrambling away from him as the Inquisitor lanced himself towards her.

Aay'han gasped, activating her jetpack in time to avoid being impaled by Anders' lightsaber. The crimson-red blade tore through the wooden floor, leaving a glowing orange hole in its wake.

"HEY! ARE YOU TWO LISTENING TO ME!? YOU'LL BE PAYING FOR THOSE DAMAGES!"

Anders wanted nothing more than to shut him up, shut Aay'han up, and destroy every single living thing in the building. Scum. That's all they were to him. There truly was never a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than The Playground. He looked to his quarry, seeing the worst of it all in her. He channelled all that disgust and loathing into his next attack, lunging forward after Aay'han. Unfortunately, his head was spinning, his knees weak, buckling under his pain and throwing off his aim. The lightsaber blade narrowly missed the top of her head, cutting a few strands of hair.

In an act of desperation, Aay'han kicked out, hitting Anders in his knee. He couldn't stay upright, dropping onto the wooden floor.

Aay'han staggered back, a wicked grin stretching across her face. Retrieving her lightsaber, she activated the putrid, corrupted green blades and raised her weapon above her head.

The Force screamed to Anders, warning him of her intent. He was far from impressed.

'Amateur. Appius would be ashamed of you.'

Aay'han was mid-swing when she stopped, wide-eyed, mouth twitching.

Anders shot back up to his feet, a clear target painted in his mind. He committed to a vertical slash, slicing cleanly through the middle of the saberstaff hilt.

"No!" Aay'han staggered back, she needed a weapon, something, anything. She reverted to her rifle, an act that caused Anders to mentally scoff at her.

'You rely on ranged weaponry instead of your skills with the blade because you know I am your superior.'

She growled at him, her sloppiness proved to be her undoing as she was left unprepared for Anders' follow-up strike, cutting into the barrel of the rifle before it could launch another shot at him. Anders stood tall, his face bloody, throbbing, his heart thundering in his ears.

The victor.

"And you just proved my point," Anders spat blood on the floor beside them as he pointed his lightsaber at her throat. "You failed. Your little act of rebellion has done nothing to convince me to help you."

"You don't understand…" Aay'han growled between her teeth. "Appius looked after me, looked after us, me and Trinnie. He gave us somewhere to be, a place to be a family. He's a piece of that."

"How utterly sentimental," Anders said, not bothering to hide his monotonous tone. "Unfortunately for you, your attack upon me was unwarranted. As such, you must face the consequences!"

Anders raised his lightsaber, the desire to make Aay'han pay for her actions overtaking every other sense. It became his sole focus, his one desire. He became tunnel-visioned. Nothing else mattered in the entire galaxy except him, his target, and the justice she was due. The dark side swirled in him, egging him on.

He didn't notice the large Dowutin bartender had approached them until its giant palm grabbed him by his shoulder.

"ARE YA LISTENING TO ME!? I SAID—"

Anders didn't think. Primal instinct took over, swayed by the darkness within him like a well overflowing. He spun at the Bartender's grip, and sliced cleanly, precisely, decisively.

The Chief Inquisitor didn't care about the political implications when the Dowutin's severed head rolled across the floor beside him. A wave of satisfaction washed over him. There was one less scumbag in the galaxy. If anything, Jorm should be thanking him.

Then again, the king rat just lost one of his little minions…

"Holy kark!"

"Greg'or is dead!"

"Everyone frakkin' run!"

Pandemonium erupted as everyone, patrons and staff alike, began to flee the venue. Screams of terror, chairs being flung, tables knocked over and glasses smashed.

This was the kind of terror Anders felt they deserved.

He was going to use the ensuing chaos to finish what Aay'han had started when the Force tugged at him from within his subconscious. It guided him back towards her. He tried to block her incoming attack, but the battle and his injuries had taken their toll, slowing him.

He keeled over when Aay'han kicked him between his legs.

Anders let out a horrid, breathy gasp. He dropped his weapon, falling onto his knees as a sharp pain worse than getting stabbed wracked his lower core. Every breath hurt, and he fought against the nausea that threatened to consume him like a wave on the beach. He couldn't speak. He could only focus on the intense, gut-wrenching throbbing in his lower abdomen.

He almost didn't see Aay'han make her escape.

That bitch! Anders was going to make her suffer if it was the last thing he did! To hell with the consequences! No-one made a fool out of him with such a cheap, distasteful act of brutality!

He forced himself back onto his feet, wobbling, staggering, struggling between the pain in his head and his loins. He didn't know which was worse. He stumbled over to the damaged mechanical body of BUDD-E, the little droid tilting his head towards him as it let out a static beep.

"I'm fine, Buddy…"

Anders was not fine. Unfortunately for Aay'han, he was the type to hold grudges. He scooped up the damaged frame of BUDD-E, cradling the little droid in his arms as he made his way towards the entrance. Each step felt like he'd walked a mile, but he was nothing if not stubborn… and spiteful.

Once outside, he heard the distinct sound of sirens approaching within the distance. Quickly glancing around, he saw no trace of Aay'han. She was long gone.

Anders ducked into a nearby back alley. He couldn't be seen. Not yet. If his status as a Chiss didn't give him away, his bloodied and broken nose certainly would.

"This is Director Anderson. Taldryanite Aay'han Agrona Beviin has betrayed the Taldryan Republic. She is to answer for her crimes. Lethal force is authorised."

Anders pocketed the device. Aay'han was going to pay one way or another. For now, he skulked away, needing to get BUDD-E repaired and deal with the painful swelling on his face.

Anders didn't disappoint her, striking hard and fast he charged her in an attempt to get her on the wrong foot.

His blade sent reverberations up her arm which bordered on her grip faltering. She parried quickly, shoving a broken chair at him with her free hand to get some breathing space.

It was short-lived.

His power flared, sending the chair sprawling to the side. It gave her enough time to charge herself, sending a flurry of volleying blows with both sides of her lightsaber.

Anders blocked each with precision, happy to wait until the girl tired herself enough to get his own attack in past her defences.

It took him a few minutes to realise she was moving to the beat of the still-playing music that echoed off the walls from the speakers dotted throughout the building. Her body didn't falter once as she moved from one attack to the next, it was as though she didn't need to think about what she was doing, being led by pure instinct and adrenaline.

Her next attack caught his blade high, she didn't hesitate, lashing out with her boot which would have caught his abdomen had he not had a free hand.

His grip was like iron on her ankle, with pure might he sent her flying aside. Aay'han was forced to deactivate her blade mid-air. She caught her balance on her hand and forced her balance upwards and over to regain her feet.

Though it left her whole back exposed to his attack she was fast enough to move aside allowing his blade to singe her armour as he swiped his blade in a downward arc of attack.

The scent of acrid burning hit both their noses but in the fraction of a second she had to act her elbow slammed into the side of his face with an audible crunch.

It was a satisfying sound to her as she pushed through the sensation of her armour melting into her flesh sending waves of pain with every movement she made.

The pause was enough for her to make space between them again and get her lightsaber back in action once more.

Anders spat blood onto the floor with a disgruntled huff. Righting himself once more his rage grew with the dirty move she had used on him.

"You fight with dishonour." His words elicited a scoff from her but she didn't seem to mind speaking this way.

"No, I take advantage of the openings you give me. Especially when you're twice the size of me." He could see her body was already ready for another attack from him.

He couldn't fault the logic, he was much larger than her. He had to at least admire her tenacity in the fight. It was enough to taper him back down once again.

Without thinking much of it he deactivated the lightsaber in his hand and faced her fully. Ready now to really consider her insane request.

"Why did you start a fight you knew you probably wouldn't win?" The question was a candid one, now genuinely curious about the child in front of him.

"You were rude." The unfiltered answer drew a chuckle from him.

"You were asking me to waste precious resources." In reply she bore her teeth at him with a hiss of vitriol.

"I give my blood, life, all of it to this Clan. A letter to one person isn't much to ask for in return." He considered the answer carefully.

"You are paid, are you not?"

"Credits are cheap, I could probably make more on my own if I put my mind to it. Instead, I stay, I work hard, create bonds and only a fraction of it benefits me personally." Sensing there would be no more fighting she deactivated her weapon.

"In return for the letter finding him, I expect you to pay for fixing my droid."

Aay'han gave a nod and a shrug, sticking her hand out, expecting him to shake on it. Anders wearily took her hand and shook on the bargain, before he could react she tugged him forward and down so she could whisper in his ear.

"If you don't do it, I'll be back to finish what we started." Her hand was quick to let go. She skipped over to the bar and lept over it rummaging around. She found a bottle of clear liquid and two glasses. Anders felt obliged to pick up his friend off the ground and join her.

"So grumpy Chiss-boy, tell me about yourself already, since we're now friends." As she spoke he righted one of the bar stools and joined her with a keen awareness he was going to be here a while with her now.

"Grumpy Chiss-boy?" Aay'han just laughed and poured them both a drink. Anders knew then and there she would be around a lot and wasn't sure he could do much about it.