The natives see it as an obstacle to their lifestyle, whilst outsiders perceive it as a diamond in the rough. Regardless of the opinion, Menat Ombo is the most technological settlement on New Tython. Crammed with tall and slim towers, alleys and market squares have randomly developed where the necessary room is. You might turn a corner and see a vendor selling smoked meat from the indigenous animals, and the next corner could be a home. The merchant stalls are almost always temporary, folding easily with several clippings or a really good show of strength. Above the awnings of the stalls, buildings of various shapes and sizes crafted of sand and stone and earth create a set of interconnecting rooftops in some parts with wide gaps in the others.

It is easy to get lost in the crowds of people. As you leave the central market, countless alleys splinter out and lead to quieter sections of the city. The streets are kept tidly by maintenance droids. and the air is clean. At night, the city and marketplace are well lit, and the lights from the scattered inns create a welcoming ambiance to the twilight air.

11:14 LTZ
Arca Praxeum, Outside Menat Ombo
New Tython, Yhi System

“So, you’re settling in alright?” Uji considered the Jedi sitting across the low table from him, noting the marked difference a few months on New Tython had made. Though his salt-and-pepper hair showed no less gray than before, nor his weathered face any fewer lines, Turel seemed younger. For all their faults, the Jedi suit him. I just wish Edraven had reacted better to his leaving.

“You could say that,” the Guardian replied easily, gesturing to encompass the small room in which they sat. It was furnished sparsely, bordering on austere. The tables were low enough to sit on the ground, closer to the earth. The stone floor was uncarpeted, and what furniture there was tended to be unstained oak. Even the oversized liquor cabinet in the corner was unadorned. Pristine teal curtains covered the large outer window, a gift from Vorsa, no doubt, and were one of the few spots of color in the room.

“I’m glad, old friend,” the Galeres Aedile replied, taking another sip of Whyren’s Reserve and savoring the slow burn as it slid down his throat. He looked away from the Jedi, eyes settling on the torn and charred warbanner along the far wall. It bore the symbol of House Qel-Droma, one of the few such banners that had survived the battle on Korriban. “It looks like you’ve...taken root in V’yr’s stead. No problems settling in?”

Turel chuckled, following Uji’s gaze. His eyes lingered on the banner for a moment before answering. “It was a bit tense at first. There were a few who thought I might be an Arconan spy, but things have mostly settled into place. Recruitment is up, defection is down. The Councillors are adjusting to having me back. Now if we could just get a handle on the crime in Menat Ombo, things would be perfect.”

The Proconsul rapped twice on the wooden table with his knuckles, then shrugged at the Arconan’s questioning glance. “An old superstition. Nothing of import.”

Uji nodded in understanding. “Crime wave?”

“Yes...and also no. It’s not so much that there’s more crime than usual as that it seems more...virulent. We can’t apprehend a gang without another cropping up within the week. And they don’t seem to be interfering with each other as much either. It’s as if they’ve grown...organized.” Turel sighed and made a gesture with his hand, as if waving away the concern. “Don’t worry about it. We can handle it. You’re not here to listen to our social issues. Let me give you a tour of the Praxeum.”

The Galeres Aedile began to nod, then stopped short. “I would enjoy that,” he said, hesitantly. “However, I need to check on something first. Can I take a rain check? And perhaps borrow one of your speeders?”

---

16:00 LTZ
Visulu Marketplace, Menat Ombo
New Tython, Yhi System

Terran stepped out of the hovel’s darkened interior, squinting against the sudden, harsh light of New Tython’s midday sun. The clamor of peddlers pitching their products and carts of goods rattling down the shoddily-paved street was nearly deafening. For a moment he considered ducking back indoors for another draught of elba beer, but the scent of roasting meat - such a contrast to the stench of unwashed bodies and industrial chemicals that permeated the rathole - drew him forward. Good idea, setting up a Nerf-on-a-Stick stand outside the real storefront, he thought, snatching a nerf-kabob from the stand’s heating rack before strolling out into the roiling press of foot traffic. I’ll have to commend them for that next time I’m dirtside. If I don’t kill them first. He didn’t mind smuggling in contraband luxuries. He didn’t even mind disseminating subversive literature and films. Checking up on the slavers and drug traffickers, on the other hand…

The Kiffar shook his head in frustration then bit a chunk of nerf off of the kabob. He hung a right, settling into the flow of traffic and trying, unsuccessfully, not to think about this more unpleasant side of his Aedile gambit. It was bad enough having to play the loyal little officer for Celevon. Turning a blind eye to the glitterstim smuggling and Tythonian abductions made him want to vomit. But it’s that, or risk walking into a trap at every turn. Corralling the Tythonian underworld was necessary if they were going to keep tabs on their new “allies”. That’s how they justified it at least. The truth, however, was colder. The alliance meant commerce, and commerce meant crime. If they couldn’t bribe, bully or break the gangs in the Yhi system, if they couldn’t get them under Qel-Droman thumbs, those same interests would start polluting Dajorran space. Terran couldn’t let that happen.

“Not until I’m ready to spring the trap, at any rate.”

“And what trap would that be?”

The voice surprised Terran - he hadn’t realized he had spoken aloud - and the former Jensaarai fought to keep his expression neutral as he turned to face it. “Excu— Uji?” So much for nonchalance, he thought, mentally cursing the hitch in his voice.

“I asked you what trap you were referring to, Koul. Surely you aren’t acting against our Lady’s wishes.” The Shadow’s voice hardened even further, if that were possible. “I know you wouldn’t act to subvert the Concordant.”

“Psh.” Terran waved a hand flippantly, as if batting away the suggestion. “Of course not. I was just musing about a prank I’ve rigged for Kolot. That pint-sized furball is in for a rather sticky surprise.”

“Good,” the Galerean replied, his tone unchanged. “So if I ducked into that house behind the meat vendor, I’d find something completely innocuous.”

“Well…” The Gray jedi trailed off, struggling to think of a plausible excuse. “I wouldn’t say innocuous. But certainly nothing that would—”

“Stop! Thieves!”

The shout cut Terran short, and drew his and Uji’s attention - as well as that of half the market. The proprietor of the Nerf-on-a-Stick was pointing towards the pair of Arconans and waving for a nearby squad of peace officers.

Uji turned back to Terran, his voice deadpan. “Really? With your cut of Port Ol’val’s income - not to mention all the bounties you’re constantly chasing - you had to steal a kabob?”

“What? I— no! I didn’t steal it.”

“Look,” the Shadow sighed, eyeing the group of a half dozen policemen who had finally responded to the merchant’s shouts. “If we’re both caught here together, it will reflect badly on the Clan.”

Terran nodded his agreement. “Unbelievably bad. So...run?”

The Obelisk sighed. “Run.”

Uji didn’t miss a beat, setting actions to words and tearing down a side street. Terran paused long enough to glance back towards the meat vendor, meeting his eyes and acknowledging the merchant’s wink with a nod of his own. Then he followed suit, ducking down the same path as his Galerean counterpart, the guards no doubt following.

The Qel-Droman swerved around a cart hauling carved wooden furniture, then shouldered his way through a gaggle of citizens who stood in the middle of the street, gawking at the ruckus that had erupted throughout the market. As he ran up the path’s gentle incline, he could feel the peace officers losing ground behind him, then stop altogether. A smug smirk solidified on his face. Lazy frakkin’ pol—

The thought was cut short by a quartet of blaster bolts burning past him, and he realized the city watch was smarter than he had given them credit for being. The incline he and Uji had scaled had given the squad enough clearance to get a clean shot on him without unnecessarily injuring the citizens - most of whom had a well enough developed sense of self-preservation to drop to the roughly paved road. Drawing one of his own blasters, Terran flicked the switch to set it to stun and half turned as he barrelled in Uji’s wake. Drawing a bead on the guards, he loosed a pair of shots at them. The blue bolts of plasma burned through the air, missing the squad. Growling, he stopped just long enough to aim, then fired off another salvo. One blast struck the lead guard, crumpling him to the pavement. The other scattered his companions. Before they could regroup and resume firing, Terran turned back towards the Galerean Aedile and ran.

16:15 Visulu Marketplace, Menat Ombo New Tython, Yhi System

Uji shoved his way through another knot of bystanders breaking into a clearing. Behind him he heard a series of blaster fire break through the noise of the crowd. Followed by the uproar of the crowd as they began to scatter, the nearest to the commotion immediately broke and began running. The Galeran raced to keep ahead of the crowd, looking through each shop front, each building and alley for an unexpected threat or opportunity.

Damn you Terran. We have to get off the streets.

The Aedile of Galeres spotted what he was looking for. A nearby shopkeeper rushed into a store front, the man of similar height and size to himself. Uji broke from his run, reaching out through the Force until he finally felt the presence he was looking for. Terran wasn’t far behind him, the Qel-Droman was headed directly for him.

Following the shopkeeper, Uji stepped into the shop. “Sir! I’m sorry but I’m closing until whatever is going on out there is over!” Uji listened to the tone and inflection of the words, keeping his head lowered as he approached the man. A swift palm strike knocked the man unconscious, the Aedile caught the man lowering him to the ground.

---

16:18 Visulu Marketplace, Menat Ombo New Tython, Yhi System

Terran holstered the blaster he held, hiding it beneath his jacket as he ran to catch up with his fellow Aedile. The confusion within the crowd didn’t help much, though it did aid in covering the Kiffar’s presence. Drek. I didn’t intend to start a damn firefight with New Tython’s police force. Now where did that stuck up bastard get to? The Qel-Droman kept pace with the crowd, knowing if he were to break rank it would be all the easier to be spotted.

Nearing the edge of the crowd, Terran nudged throughout the mass of people’s whispers and shouts as the citizens of New Tython tried to understand what was going on.

Dispersed throughout the crowd; officers had begun stopping people, searching through the crowd and asking questions. Skirting the edge of the assembled group, he concentrated for a moment, sensing the presence of the security forces and their positioning he found himself being closed in. It was only a matter of time before he’d be found unless he could find somewhere to hide.

From the corner of his eye he spotted someone motioning to him, at first he didn’t recognize who it was, his senses broke through the disguise. His fellow Arconan looked like a fool, the disguise hurried and poorly crafted, though the Shadow’s talent with taking on another's appearance meant only another Force user like himself would easily recognize the difference.

Crossing the distance, Terran stepped into the shop followed by the disguised Aedile. He heard the door close and the locks snap into place, the Battlelord smirked as he reached for a nearby drink opening it to take a few quick swigs.

“Well! That was fun, you know you almost blew my cover, Idiot.” Turning around as he spoke Terran watched the disguise fall away from Uji, the change seemed almost unnatural as the man’s facial features shifted to normal.

“Explain to me, why it is I shouldn’t turn you over to officers outside, what are you doing here?” Terran stopped as he went to take another drink, catching Uji’s aggressive stance, the Savant’s hand rested near his saber as if considering whether to draw.

The Kiffar’s sapphire stare roamed the inside of the shop as he considered his answer. Bolts of synthcloth lined shelves along one wall, and the opposite wall displayed natural fabrics and leathers. A large circle was marked on the buffed hardwood floor next to a ceiling-length mirror; the light filtering in from the window opposite the mirror no doubt made the spot ideal for fittings. A muffled groan drew Terran’s eye, and he saw a man - the shopkeeper, presumably - bound and gagged in the corner. So there’s a witness. Lovely. A smooth rumble from the back of Uji’s throat pulled the Kiffar’s attention, and he turned back to face his fellow fugitive.

“I was visiting my sick mother, not that it’s any of your business.”

The Human quirked an eyebrow. “You’re an orphan,” he deadpanned.

“Look…” Terran began hesitantly, mentally cursing Isshwarr for telling his peers about his parental search. Kark it! What’s a good lie he can’t easily check on? “Princess Rainbow Sunshine sent me to ‘maintain diplomatic relations’ with our new allies, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I was just—”

“That’s why I’m here,” Uji replied. His voice, if possible, was even dryer than before, and his eyes showed nothing but disdain for Terran. Shaking his head in frustration, the Galeran pushed past his Kiffar counterpart and stomped towards the door.

Frak it all, Terran thought aggravatedly. If he leaves now, like this, I’ll get pinched.

“Fine!” Terran clamored, “Fine…I’ll tell you.”

Uji Tameike stopped short, turning to face the Qel-Droman, his arms crossed in front of him. With eyes colder than Hoth, he inclined his head briefly to the Kiffar.

Sighing, the Kiffar lowered his eyes and spoke, his voice hesitant. “I met her a few months ago.”

“Her? Don’t tell me you were visiting some whore,” Uji sneered.

Terran’s head jerked up and he stared blaster bolts at the Obelisk. “Watch your karking tongue before I rip it out.” His voice cut the air like a vibroblade. Then he breathed deeply, twice, before continuing in a more stilted tone.

“She was a soldier in the Tythonian army during the O’reenian incident. Somehow she got separated from the bulk of the forces in the forest outside the city. I came across her running and hiding from a squad of enemy combatants. I got them off her back, but I was injured in the process. Shot in the gut...she patched me up, half dragged me off the battlefield to get sewed up. I’ve still got the scar. In a way, it makes me glad of the bacta shortage at the time. Everytime I see it, I see her face.”

The Kiffar paused for a moment, gathering his breath or his wits - or both - before continuing in a tone that was both smoother and more sullen. “Anyway, that’s how I met her. After the fighting ended, I tracked her back down here in Menat Ombo. Turned out, she had been injured herself before things settled down. A piece of shrapnel from a frag grenade tore of up her knee and she ended up getting discharged. She stayed with her dad for a while as she healed, but he got killed by some crime boss over his gambling debts and she ended up in those lovely accommodations you saw. I offered to help her out, or to let her come live with me...but she’s as stubborn as a Wookiee and twice as fierce.”

Terran sighed through his nose and ran his hands through his sweat-damp, tousled hair. “So there you have it. I visit when I can get some time away from Port Ol’val. We’re trying to make the best of the situation. I’d be down on my knees begging her to marry me if she wasn’t so determined to right her own ship.”

The Galeran eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds before replying. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned her before?”

“...We’re part of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, Uji. We’re the bad guys, here. No one in our lives is ever truly safe. Especially not the ones we love.”

Silenced stretched between them as the Obelisk considered Terran’s words, their eyes locked. Eventually, the Kiffar looked away and ran a hand through his hair again.

“So what’s her name?” Uji asked after a moment.

“Layla. Her name is Layla.”

For a time, the Human was silent, his eyes crinkled at the edges and his lips pursed in consideration. Finally, he nodded his head - in acceptance, if not belief. That’ll do, Terran thought to himself. He doesn’t have to believe me, so long as it buys enough time for us to escape and for me to get offworld.

“Alright,” Uji said, his voice steady despite the edge of irritation. “The first step, then,” he explained, walking over to a pile of garments on a chair near the shopkeeper’s till, “is to get out of here. I have a landspeeder parked just outside the district gate on Market Street. If we can get there, we’ll be set.” Rummaging through the pile, he tossed a riot of color to the Kiffar. “Here, put this on. It’s the perfect disguise.”

Terran pulled apart the tangle of clothing then stood there, alternating between staring at the clothes and back at his temporary companion. “You have got to be kidding me,” he exclaimed, holding up the striped gown and pink shawl in exasperation. “There’s no way my duster will fit over this!”

Uji opened his mouth almost immediately, as if expecting a protest, then paused with it agape as he processed the Kiffar’s words. “Your duster?”

“Yes, there’s no way it’ll fit. Just look at it,” Terran replied, pulling it open on one side as if displaying it on a runway. “You can do what you want with your clothes, but there’s no way I’m leaving my baby behind.”

The Galeran through up his hands in frustration, then extended a single finger. He wasn’t pointing at Terran. “Just put it on over the top. No one will spot you in a crowd.”

Grinning at his counterpart’s obvious consternation, the Kiffar buttoned up his calf-length coat and slipped the dress on over it. He glanced in the mirror, his expression disgusted, then turned back to Uji. “This thing is hideous.”

The Human gave him a flat stare, and Terran couldn’t stop himself from adding, “And it doesn’t accentuate my curves in the least.”

Suppressing a grin, he made sure the gown wouldn’t drag the ground and strode lightly towards the door, grabbing a lacy chapeau from a rack as he passed and settling it onto his head. He looked back towards Uji and made a motion with his head towards the doorway. As the Shadow took a step over, the Kiffar pulled the door inward.

And found himself face-to-face with a surprised peace officer.

The man’s fist was raised in preparation to knock, and Terran quickly debated whether he could raise his voice enough octaves to fool the officer. Then the man’s narrowing eyes reminded the Kiffar that he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Scratch that plan.

Before the lawman could reach for his blaster, Terran grabbed the man’s raised wrist in one hand and placed his flat palm against the door. He shoved the door forward with a Force-fueled burst of strength even as he quick-stepped backwards, yanking on the policeman's wrist hard enough to dislocate his shoulder with a dull pop. The heavy wooden door slammed into the man’s face, crunching his nose flat in a spurt of crimson before Terran’s backwards momentum brought the officer careening into the shop’s interior. The lawman fell to his knees and Terran took another large step back before pivoting on his left foot and kicking the officer with his right. The blow landed solidly on the man’s temple and he collapsed in a heap.

“So much for the perfect disguise,” Terran muttered, stooping to strip off the officer’s coat and using it to towel off the blood spatter on the door.

“I said they wouldn’t spot you from a distance, dragqueen.” The Human’s voice was overtly aggrieved, but Terran was fairly sure he detected an undercurrent of amusement creeping into it.

“Fine,” the Kiffar replied, satisfied that the doorway was clean enough to not draw attention. He motioned for the Galeran to lead the way. To his surprise, the Shadow considerately returned the gesture.

“Ladies first.”

A growl sounded in Terran’s throat as his magnanimity resolved. He pointed at Uji, his eyes turning deadly serious in an instant. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.”

Before the Human could reply, Terran turned back towards the doorway and stepped out onto the side-street. A handful of citizens were standing near enough to have seen what happened to the peace officer. Most of them did their best to pretend they had seen nothing. One, however, leaped into motion as the pair exited the shop, making a beeline for a half squad of guards thirty meters down the byway.

The two Arconans stopped and exchanged a glance.

“What now?” Uji asked.

“Umm…” the Kiffar trailed off, considering their options. “Run?”

The Obelisk sighed. “Run.”

As the two began running Uji took the lead, any thoughts to stealth or guile lost. Instead he focused on finding pockets of empty space, holes within the crowds gathered from the earlier excitement, and when no avenues presented themselves, he barreled through, creating a path for him and his unwanted companion to pass through. He could hear Terran close on his heels. Satisfied that he hadn’t lost the Qel-Droman, his thoughts became focused, everything around him narrowing to the single purpose of reaching the means of their escape.

The first time he had visited the Visula Marketplace he had found the entire place stifling: the unbearable number of smells, sights, the crushing volume of hundreds of voices speaking in dozens of languages. Now being pursued through the marketplace seemed to make it all the worse as every alley, thoroughfare and stall seemed to block his path. The two Dark Jedi were fast, and yet every time Uji thought they were close to being in the clear, the police forces seemed to be a step ahead.

“We can outrun them, but we can’t outrun their damn radios!” Terran’s shout drew Uji’s attention.

Market Gate came into view. As the primary means of exiting Visala the narrow inlets broadened into a wide avenue. Standing before them was an entire platoon of armed forces, placed solidly between them and their goal. The two Arconans rush came to a sudden halt. “Uji Tameike, you and your companion lay down your arms immediately and surrender!”

Uji and Terran found themselves surrounded, their pursuers cutting off any retreat. A sigh of resignation was Uji’s only reaction as he reached for the lightsaber clipped to his belt. To his side Terran reach into his long duster, his hand closing around the blaster within.

“Surrender now!” At the Captain's words the entire platoon shouldered their rifles.

The Galeran turned as he heard the clatter of his Companion’s blaster hitting the pavement at their feet. Uji turned to the Qel-Droman, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Hey, they are after you, Uji. I’m just an accomplice at this point. You’re the visiting dignitary who broke the law.” The Bounty Hunter smirked infuriatingly, and the desire to break his jaw almost worth the risk of getting shot.

With a growl aimed at his companion, Uji withdrew his saber and knelt to place it on the ground, rising up with his hands on the back of his head as the officers moved in to cuff them both.

---

New Tython

Prisoner Holding

Six hours later

The cot within his barren cell provided little in the way of comfortable accommodations, made all the worse by the insufferably off-key whistling in the cell beside his. Uji’s discomfort was not mirrored by Terran who had taken to repeating the same three measures of whatever sparkle-bop tune the Qel-Droman had stuck in his head.

“Just can’t remember the damn song. You figured it out yet, Uji? I won’t be able to get it out of my head until I hear it. Most damned frustrating thing, isn’t it?” And then again came the whistling accompanied by a rhythmic tapping against the wall.

I’m going to kill him and then Celevon is going to kill me. Arcona will need a new set of Aediles before the day is through.

Approaching boots caught Uji’s attention. Sitting up and facing the entry to the cell, he heard the whistling finally end as Terran took notice as well. “Tameike, the tip you provided was accurate. Managed to shut down the entire operation at one time.” The locks of the cell opened as the Officer stepped in.

“You and your friend are free to go, Lord Sorenn sends his regards. Give me a moment to free your companion.”

“Don’t bother, he’s no associate of mine, let him explain what he was doing assaulting your Officers.” Uji contained his smile, the deadpan expression he was so used to easy enough to maintain.

“Oh come on! It’s like that?” Terran’s last words as Uji walked away did finally bring a smile to the Savant’s face.