Star Wars: Heir of the Menace (Book 1)

Chater 10: The Contract

Marquikise's POV

Other than the discomfort of sharing a single seat with a bounty hunter, the rest of the flight into the Republic cruiser's hanger goes smoothly. Despite this hunter's armor and wrestling prowess, they are surprisingly light. Such a trait could be attributed to either being of small stature or female in the Mandalorian culture. Most of their male fighters tend to have broad shoulders for melee combat. Female Mandalorians, while almost on par with their male counterparts, tend to rely on their strategies and innate reflexes in battle. There have been legends of Mandalorian heroes both male and female. As of recently legends of the Mandalorian culture are diplomatic leaders. Some rebel clans wanting to reclaim the old Mandalorian way have emerged but only a few have ventured out to do bounty hunting work. As of recently, only the bounty hunter Jango Fett, Rogue Knight, and Dalka have worn the traditional Mandalorian armor. It is strange to know two of them have valued my life, and have spared me of death.

Our ship closes in on the hanger and lands smoothly on the floor. Stationed clones and hanger floor mechanics rush forward to help us out and lock the ship down to prevent it from sliding. The Rogue Knight exits the ship as do I. We are met with small squad of clones, one showing a ranking mark above the others.

"Jedi, we were instructed to meet you." The clone obviously spends more of his time studying the Mandalorian next to me. "Are we to detain this one?"

"No, there is no need." I quickly interject. "They saved my life on that droid ship."

The Mandalorian nods in conformation but avoids speaking. In the clear light of the Republic hanger and with the stress of battle behind me, I can finally take a close look at the Rogue Knight. The familiar features that I noticed on the droid ship are multiplied now. Suddenly it hits me, the armor marks and scratches match another.

"Dalka?"

They freeze, as if suddenly stunned by a blaster. Our clones obviously have no idea who I am talking about.

"Remove your mask!" My voice loaded with forbidden emotion.

The helmet is lifted off to reveal the familiar face with the jet black hair pulled in a short ponytail. She looks up, disappoint in her eyes. She starts her defense.

"Look I didn't know that I would be hired to kill you." She tries.

"How could you betray the Republic?" I start. "Was it for the credits?"

"Yes, I'm in debt. No one pays me higher for jobs."

I shake my head in disgust. Unable to look at her, I storm off leaving the clones to deal with Dalka.

Unable to truly concentrate on a single thought, I duck into the nearest, empty room. To fight an enemy is one thing, to fight someone that I know feels different. Sparing at the Jedi Temple never held emotions like this. The storm swelling up inside felt like anger, then suddenly grief then on to the next emotion.

"There is no emotion, their is peace." I try to remind myself. Speaking the Jedi code brings some of my internal storm of emotions back in balance. Realizing that this is working, I repeat the words. This time, I let them soak in. Without stoping, I sit down to meditate, repeating the Jedi code aloud.

What seems like hours pass by before I allow myself to open up my mind to dwell on the recent battle. I may have not contributed to the battle but the Republic emerged victorious. In the next battle, I vow to make a difference. A knock comes from outside the room.

"Come in." I answer, opening my eyes.

My master appears behind the blast door. He strides in and joins me in my meditative seated position. No words are spoken between us for several minutes. Trying to follow along, I watch and wait for him to speak.