"No, hey! Stop." She rushes up to him and grabs his arm. He turns to look at her as she says, "Don't bring them into this. They wanted peace for themselves, and they got it. They don't want to fight a war for someone they don't know."

"They know us."

"You know damn well what I mean. Let those people live their war-free lives. The only way you're going to get them as soldiers is if the syndicate attacks them directly. It's an insular community. Why would they help Fett?"

Mando tilts his helmet. "I've got this. I'll be right back."

"I'm not worried about you." Once upon a time, that might have actually been true. "I'm worried about them. They are not prepared to fight here. Just like on Sorgan."

He rips his arm away and continues walking. "I've got it, Tiri. Deal with things here until I return."

"Such leadership. I wonder how much is your own voice and thoughts as opposed to your fellow Mandalorians." She does not intend to sound so vicious. Instead of waiting for his reaction, she just turns and returns to the meeting. Better focus on the problem ahead instead of the one leaving in his starship.

✦✧✦✧✦

"We are at war," Boba Fett says as he, Fennec, and Alora survey the damage to the local club under his influence. Just hours ago, the building was destroyed, killing everyone inside as a clear message to the new Daimyo. Alora walks over the ashes, noting the imprint of her boots as she looks around the building. Two others from Fett's cohort came with them, both with too many mechanical modifications to count.

"It was inevitable," Fennec sighs as she takes a look around.

"Even if we win, there might not be anything left of this city."

Alora takes a deep breath, turning her back to the others as she lets her eyes fall closed. She lowers herself to the ground, squatting over the rubble, as she reaches a hand out to the broken building. Her hood covers her face well enough as the faintest sounds of screams echo in her mind until familiar, heavy footsteps ring through the air.

Twisting around, Alora watches the Mandalorian walk into the building, the faint light from outside shining on his armor. "That was quick," she says as she stands, clapping her hands together to get rid of the dirt.

"Were you able to hire any foot soldiers?" Fennec asks.

"I think so." Mando nods his head. "Cobb Vanth is raising a garrison for us."

"What price did you negotiate?"

"Free."

Fett raises a brow. "Free?"

"He's been holding off the spice trade single-handedly. I told him we could shut it down."

Alora clenches her jaw and shakes her head. "That's not free. That was the majority of Jabba's business, and it could take years to shut it down on this planet."

"That's what the town wants." His helmet does not move to her, only stays watching Fett.

Fett nods. "I agree to their terms."

Fennec takes a step forward, saying, "There's a lot of credits to be made from that orange powder."

With a sigh, Alora glances around. "Look, Fennec, yes, it's a lucrative business, but it'll be better for you in the long run. You just have to get there. I'm not one for broken promises, and it could work. But you have to mean it. Spice kills. Getting rid of it could turn Mos Espa into a prosperous city under your protection."

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