Lessu

So your version of Justice is for you to go on doing as you wish? That's is the damnable attitude that God us here in the first place. The trial should be simple. No Senate hearing. No spectacle. Just a televised debate between you and I on the Senate floor. I am well known to have developed an immunity to the influences of the Force, taught so by your Jedi as we went on missions to fight against the Sith. I am not as weak minded as you suppose. Neither, will you find, is the Senate. And as the trial shall be broadcast on the Holonet, if you do anything, there will not be a place in the Republic where the Jedi are not despised. No indeed, if you Jedi possess any of the honor that you proclaim, that shall not be an issue. If it is, then the very Jedi might see you as a Sith and keep you in check.

If you wish to serve the people, then stand with the one that they have selected to represent their wishes. Or else, you might stand against the people. Ryloth with draw further into an isolationist stance, and open themselves up to further such attacks. Then neither you nor I will have the might to save my people from those that would force us into bondage once more. I am asking you, Jedi, be not like the rest of your Order. For once, put aside your pride for the greater good.

Crom'nen watched the Jedi leave. He still spoke, just as if the being could have heard him.

You have no idea. I can hold the trial in whatever way I want, one of the benefits of engineering the social contract of the Republic with Ryloth as I see fit. My arrogance knows no bounds, because I have earned it. I have always succeeded where others failed. My list of living enemies is quite short. Dead enemies, enormous. Living, nearly obsolete. Unfortunately, you've chosen to place yourself among them. That is your loss. I will see you at the temple. And you shall stand trial. I will have my day. You want to strengthen Ryloth? It needs unity. You shall provide that, my dear Jedi. Nothing brings people together like a common enemy. I will save my people. And I just might save yours too. Mahir, I will see you soon.

F'rarl, we're going to the ship, but we have to stop by the Obyrru.

Crom'nen stomped off. He could have summoned a vehicle. But in his anger, he wanted to walk, to work off any show of emotion before he arrived to the source of people. He only had a partial victory this day. The pirates were leaving and returning his people to their homeworld, but he had not gotten the Jedi under control, not by a long shot. That victory would wait.

In accordance to his side of the agreement, he transferred funds in exchange for the released captives. It seemed unfortunate to pay such slime, but it was more expedient than destroying them through their hubris. With his end of the agreement done, he left for Kala'uun.

The Persuer-class "Chefs Demise" landed at the designated landing area.

-Sherer-
"Why do we have to come here again, besides you oogling the Twileks?"

"I am a married man, darling. Why would you ever think such a thing? Besides, If these so called Exchange use Basilisk war droids, we need to take a look at any they might have destroyed. You know, 'know thy enemy'. With any luck, we can determine where they were made. Then, we can find the culprit... plus... I dont really want to leave mandalorian war materiel in the hands of the republic, if you know what I mean.

-Sherer-
"Controlled det?"

Duke grinned and put on his helmet. The helmets lower part opened up so he could put the cigar back where it belonged. Then, he removed the infantry beam canon from his jetpack, removed all the explosives, and the mines. He also put the Flechette launcher and the heavy blaster back in their boxes. He donned the Jetpack, witch still had the combat shovel attached to it.
Sherer did the same, disarmed herself all the way down to one holdout blaster. That one she put between Duke and his jetpack. The fuel in the jetpack would hide the small blaster from nearly all kinds of scans. She then put on a new belt, which had a machete attached to it.
So, the mandalorians opened the airlock and walked out on the landingpad, with holsters empty, seeing if there was a welcomeparty.

"Holy boly, you were not kidding."

The mouth under the Buy'ce spoke in awe. The two mandalorians did think a lot on PR, they wanted to show that they are 1: Mandalorians wearing Beskargam 2: Are here officially to settle an affair some idiots started. Duke took the spiced wine, jugged down about half of it and then reached it to Sherer, the female behind him. Her blue-white armour nearly shone beside Dukes dark green and red. She tasted it and shrugged shoulders.
Duke himself liked the spicey wine, and at once was thinking about some nice new dishes. Unfortunetley, this was not a taste-journey. Serious business was on the menu.

"I am Duke Australis, this lovely being here is Sherer Skirata-Australis. Show me the bodies."

He wanted to see the bodies first, because he wasnt very sure how the wormheads would take his wishes of controlled detonation when it comes to Basilisks.

"What can you tell me about the attack? Something that was out of usual? Did you fight?... you know what? Start with the beginning. Now that I can see the city I might just picture what the heck is going on."

He locked the ship, set the alarm, and followed the nameless rylothian athletes.

The large man just stood and watched the pile. It hit him hard, and Sherer knew. He saw his own clan like this, after him and Ashrah had piled them like that. Even if these were different people, they were still Mandalorians. Their guilt was not yet set, and thus they did not deserve to rot. Nobody does. After a moment he turned to Sherer.

-In Mando'a-
"Buy'ce, Beskar'gam computers, personal belongings."

"Good captain, I will need all the helmets, and some fossil fuel. I dont think one more pyre will give or take from your atmosphere."

He cept personal belongings with him. Pictures of units he served with, a couple noughty clips from women he still remembered fondly, pictures of Myrkr. If even one of these Vode are were as sentimental as him, he could get a picture of who the hell they are and where they came from. Maybe even some hard data from the Armour on-board computers. It was good that the Twileks didnt care much for armour, they could use a lot of this.
Sherer nodded and started checking the bodies and the armours, pulling a wire from her wrist computer and connecting them with the soldiers. Duke himself started the long work of removing helmets and piling them separately.

-In Mando'a-
"Check for Beskar. Dont leave any behind."

Sherer nodded, and continued her work.

37

She was pretty shocked by the city destruction at once. As the subway exited the tunnel, several grasps were heard in the crowd as the still smoking ruins became visible. The slave just sat, without a collar, armed with an umbrella and an ornate stealth belt, she was ready to become a sleeper cell. She wasnt happy about it, it wasnt her choice. In lack of leadership, voting had expelled her from the Kalauun group. Her operations had lacked results, only making things worse. here, she can make things worse for herself now.

her papers held her to be an emigrant from zeltros. She soon started to try and find an apparmant. There was great confusion on the real estate market, some places saw great migration. people who moved to the smaller cave-communities fearing more attacks, or just fleeing memories of lost ones. This got some places to go cheaply. On the other hand, a lot was destroyed, so some places were rather expensive. Hotels and boarding houses were full, so the same for shelters.

Lucky for her, she had background founding. Money was relayed from Juvex to Anobis, Zeltros, Corulag then came strait from Corellia. Extremely hard to trace. She got a small condo close to what once was the municipal district, now a smoldering ruin. She wanted to be close to the destruction, and she had a good view of it. Someone of note should soon come by, and she could gain new targets.

To start off, she was greeted with mostly nothing. She came too late to the party as it is. People spoke in bars about the Silver Tounge, Crom'nen and his heroics. She noted down the name and looked him up. Senator. Hero. Some other articles described him as an egoistical prick.
The second most intresting thing that happened was the mandalorians. She watched from her condo as a unit of soldiers seemed to escort two fully clad mandalorians around, checking and burning bodies.

She sent reports home through Zeltros.

Tra'fenn took a swig from his own bottle of wine. He nodded, and soldiers began to pile the bodies onto transports. No, they would not burn the bodies here. This city has seen enough fire. Tra'fenn followed them back to their ship, then led the back to the war droid, in the central part of the city, just somewhat to the south. The droid had been shot down, eventually. On it's way down, it had taken out a residence designed to house four families. There was far more left of the droid than the house. One thing was sure. It was the genuine article.

If you want this too, you'll save us the trouble of trying to remove it.

Tra'fenn, being more of a bureaucrat than a soldier, and not as brave as his cousin, did step back. The soldiers, however, moved in and aimed rifles at the droid.

=Tra'fenn=
Perhaps you would be generous enough to activate that self-destruct sequence and blow that thing to hell.