The Hangar

*Nodding in complete understanding, Aerandir gestured towards the base's corridors and replied,* "Move him in, then. I'll be around as soon as I'm able. Thank you, Captain, and welcome back." *At last, he turned back to Master Son'tir and nodded to him as well.* "Shall we head somewhere more private, then?"

I take a seat opposite my opponent. Staring into the man's eyes I tense up in anticipation of the conflict about to unfold. It had been nearly two decades since I'd seen the man and this would settle things once and for all. My hand remains steady near my belt as I prepare to draw. After a count of three from someone in the shadows nearby my hand moves lighting quick to pull my trust flask and begin drinking. The grand galactic drinking championships had begun and this year it was mine to win. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! BEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!! My blue eyes burst open as I sit up and nearly smash the chronometer next to the bunk as I draw my thoughts together into something resembling coherence. My first thought is a curse about being woken up from such a good dream. The second is something about about needing a good drink. And by the third I finally manage remembering where I was and what was going on. I was on a ship on the way to Felucia, but wait, it didn't sound like the drives were moving. A quick walk to the cockpit of the old YT-2400 confirms that we were now in the hangar of the Felucian Jedi base. Damn it Will you were supposed to wake me up when we got here. I mumble to myself as I make my way back to the cabin I had been asleep in and throw my belt on over my grey mechanic's jumpsuit who's pockets were outnumbered only by it's grease stains. After just a moments hesitation I pull my blue Jedi robes out from the bag I had brought and tossed the wrinkled thing over me for the first time in years. It felt kind of good actually, but I tried not to dwell on that much as I rushed down the ramp and to the nearest person in the hangar.

You haven't seen a somewhat scruffy Corellian come through here recently have you? I catch a look of my own disheveled mop head of brown and grey hair in the reflection of something shiny nearby. That plus my untrimmed beard and clothes made me realize I was most accurately describing myself right now. I mean aside from myself of course. I give them my usual jovial half-smile as I pull the flask from my belt and take a long drink before taking a long satisfied breath. Yep... that was exactly what I needed.

*Mandalorian business... Even the Jedi were uncertain where such would lead. A chaotic lot, they could be, their allegiances inconsistent. Bix had never dealt with Mandalorians personally, but there was a first time for everything. The human Master strolled through the hangar, looking for a YX-1980. He quickly found one... but it was the one that belonged to Morgan and her little crew. In fact, one of them—the Devaronian boy—was standing outside of it, staring in awe at something.

Following his gaze, Bix located the other YX-1980 and its unmistakable Mandalorian pilot. Bix quickened his pace, reaching the ship quickly and slowing to a stop a few paces away from the Mandalorian—just outside his reach. With a polite bow, he said,* "Welcome to Felucia. I'm Mas—" *Some part of his brain reasoned that being too formal wouldn't be necessary with the Mandalorian.* "... name's Bix. 'Courier,' the report called you. How may we be of service?"

*Although Bix felt he already knew the answer, considering this Mandalorian had been contracted by the Caamasi...*

*And it was exactly what Bix had expected. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but inwardly he found the notion completely ridiculous.* "Right," *he said evenly,* "I'm aware of what happened on Caamas. Hard not to be, though. Anyway, I would gladly deliver these documents myself, but I'm sure you've been contracted to ensure they've been properly received, haven't you?"

*Bix nodded, starting to turn away from the courier.* "Of course, makes sense. In that case, follow me." *He beckoned the Mandalorian to follow as he fully turned to lead the way into the base proper, the gesture naturally transitioning into an all-too-common scratching of the small patch of beard on his chin. He kept his senses alert, should the Mandalorian try to pull anything, though he more or less expected things to go smoothly.*

*Almost a full week had passed since Dutch and his men had landed on Felucia. Things were going as some as one would expect for someone who missed nearly a lifetime of events. The repairs on The Javelin were going better then expected, and the chip removal for the rest of the troops was on schedule, albeit slowly due to sheer numbers. On top of all that, Dutch and all his men has received an upgraded version of their current armor and weapons. The new armor was tougher, lighter and newer in every aspect. Not a scratch, dent or single scrape was on it. Only one word could describe how Dutch felt.*

"Shiny." *Spade exclaimed as the marched across the hangar. The far end of the was now home to the clones landing vessels, assault walkers and their base of operations. Dutch raised an eyebrow at Spades sudden exclamation.* "I feel like a shiny wearing this new armor."

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get the chance to put it to use soon enough." *Dutch replied. Although he had to admit that he felt the same. The two came to a stop in what was now the heart of their little command center. From here, they could rely messages from the temple to any trooper that needed it. The base also kept full watch on the wound Accumulator resting in the jungle, along with every other vehicle in the area. As surprising as it was, Dutch felt right at home, even though so much time had passed. Maybe it was who they were still fighting with that made things easier, or the fact that they weren't so confined by orders. Either way, he was just happy to be occupied again.*

*Yleqos had already given his condolences after discovering the village in its state and finding no trace of survivors. The Caamasi had been quite disheartened as well by the sight, but not nearly to the degree the young girl had been. He had only promised to give her a new home here on Felucia, as well as a future.* "You will be protected here," *he assured her, as he led her out of the ship they had taken.* "Here, you may even learn how to prevent such disasters yourself."

*He could sense the words were for her own reassurances rather than as an actual response to him. Placing his only hand on her shoulder as he turned to face her, he said,* "There is an ancient saying among the Jedi: 'Do, or do not. There is no try.' There's a meaning behind it, but one you must discover for yourself." *Turning, he gestured towards the halls.* "For now, you need rest. Allow me to show you back to the dormitories."