Quiet Months [Moyr's Interlogue]

[Moyr Ahaya]

Balmorra. The Beginning Month

The window panel gave in quietly and the shadow slipped into the room, replacing it afterwards. The shape in the repulsive tribal mask of blood red sat in the armchair and waited, observing the sleeping woman, studying the scars on her side visible in dim light through semi-translucent gown. The figure waited, its breathing quieter than distant whizzing of Subrik force field bombarded by the rebel artillery. Minutes or hours, nothing was changing, until the dawn broke over the hazed Balmorran sky and the alarm clock went off.

"Good morning, Hala." A female, softly-accentuating voice spoke from behind the mask to the woman who struggled with killing the sound, only to be thrown off by the additional presence revealing herself.

"Give me a moment... to get ready, my lord..." The woman stuttered because of the dried throat and drowsiness rather than from lack of eloquence, a side-effect of air conditioning pumping the detoxicated air that had almost no humidity in it left.

"You're ready. Take a wake-shot or something."

The woman in the gown nodded and opened the drawer, pulling out a handful of pills, then tossing back those that were not for the occasion. Leaving painkillers on hand to swallow. She the smoothed the gown over her knees, managing to appear dignified. "I am ready. What is there to discuss?"

A holotape was tossed on the bed. "My interview with Grand Marshal Cheketta, unauthorised version. The boor let his tongue loose before he regained his senses and asked me to adulterate the interview before authorising it. I of course complied." The woman smirked under the mask, not feeling like gloating about how little she needed to do to make the man throw caution to the wind around the lovely journalist Hwee Sensara, so dedicated to independent reporting. The sound resonated as hollow and ominous. "He indirectly disclosed the new troop distribution in the Gorinth Canyon, and that the Jedi Master is there. So my earlier report that I saw the traitor Nunki among the rebels is also probably correct. Not that the Empire needs more clues about Republican involvement in the revolt, short of an undeniable proof."

"Shelling the grottos in Gorinth won't give us the proof." The woman picked up the holotape.

"Not my core interest anyway. Gorinth shall not be shelled. Let them regroup there, and launch their small counteroffensive into Sundari. This whole interview shall not be acted on."

"Then why I am getting this? You know what kneejerk reaction of the planetary command will be. Cheketta is not that stupid. Certainly some of his lieutenants aren't. It can lead back to you."

"Yes, therefore you'll tailor it. I want this part about the planned Sundari action underscored without mentioning how many reinforcements they can deploy from the Canyon."

Hala loaded the holotape and started reviewing it, quickly reaching the relevant section. "This may lead to a standoff at best. Without their hands on these numbers, they won't relocate the artillery. Without artillery, they can't rout the rebels. I am sorry my lord, but I don't see the point. Unless you want to break the career of whatever officer gets to do it."

Moyr didn't have the bad habit of an evil mastermind in her to have the last cackle over a gradually revealed nefarious plan, and was just losing patience. "Look, all I want is about an hour for them to shit their pants that a pre-emptive Imperial wipeout is coming to their doorstep and to pull out the security personnel from the Sundari arms factory complex to reinforce the perimeter. Once I am done there, then the Jedi cavalry on battle droids or whatever can come, and the army flunky who bites the bullet be court marshalled. And the others can do the statistics. Forcing their hand will be worth something even if this hand won't be cut this time."

"Because what's in the data core of that arms factory is your core interest?" Hala clicked her tongue after asking calmly.

"We have the same boss, Hala. I've thought you are able to sideline your secondary sensibilities. Have I been wrong?"

Watcher-7 didn't sigh, just stared into the Blood Face of Yavin for a while. 'I am glad we've had this conversation. It allows me to have a better understanding who I am working with."

"Fair warning, I have a penchant for being erratic."

"There is a pattern to chaos, my lord."

Moyr giggled. "How succinct of you. Yes, there is."

---

Dromund Kaas. The Ending Month

"Of all the bars in Kaas City you had to choose this one." the Chiss tossed his dreadlocks to the back as he turned to look at the woman taking a stool beside him. "What are you drinking?"

The Lethan in the leather jacket smiled faintly, not looking at him, but seemingly following the INN transmission on the screen over the bar. "Ne'tra gal, if you're offering. Cold."

"Cultural flattery is redundant, Moyr. You are as nice to the eye and the ear as you have been. But things changed when you weren't around." He looked her over. "You changed." He ordered the Mandalorian black ale for her. "I had been actually looking for you until I could no longer afford the time and resources to do so."

She followed the recap of daily news. Hoshi accepted into the Dark Council after her victory at the Gorios Nebula. More shifts in the Council expected. The anchor girl was such a paper doll, Moyr thought. Relaying the news like it was a cupcake recipe. When ale arrived, she took a draining sip. "This is not what associates do, n'est-ce pas? Vanish without a trace and then come back like nothing happened several months later?" Her voice enveloped a tease in a soft chuckle.

"This is what the Sith do, Moyr. I wasn't born yesterday. You could have been dead too. I wanted to know."

"Would it break your heart?"

"It would inconvenience my calculations."

"The Chiss way to say you cared? You're sweet, Vorn. And those dreadlocks make you dreamy. I would lie if I said I preferred you bald. One of the things that changed for the better. I need to guard myself around you!" She covered her lips to stifle a burp after draining half the glass.

That creased blue line of Vorn's lips with the smallest of smirks. "That makes two of us. Not that lying comes difficult to you."

"I don't like lying to you, especially after all the time I've invested to nurture spirit of some fairness between us. Hence I simply won't tell you where I was and why I couldn't reach out. What I can tell you is that I am going to be around for a while..." The INN paper doll was speculating from a script on peace talks to be set up in the Hutt Space, disingenuously coating the tale about their premise in intelligence-offending propaganda. Moyr pondered how the Empire survived despite its perplexing inability to exercise the power of television right. "Why don't they broadcast music around here? You have the worst gusto for bars, Vorn. You're missing out on a chance to dance with me."

The Mandalorian took his red eyes off the screen. "Getting nostalgic about your past as, hmm, an independent contractor? I think you're asking me if I am going to be drawn to this mess your Darths are fomenting. Well, I am going to Nar Shadaa, and I anticipate this is where I will have my dance."

"I wasn't asking, Vorn. I haven't come here without some homework done." Moyr giggled, sliding the empty glass back to the bartender along the counter. "It looks to me that even the Vizsla are not beyond being embroiled in internecine squabbles. Without you, cooler heads may not prevail, n'est-ce pas? Corso is the kind of man many bet on, and as many against."

Vorn's eyes narrowed. "I think we could sort out our problems quicker and more satisfactorily without Imperial interference, Moyr."

"Just like the Sith sort out their own problems without the Mandalorians?" Her lekku undulated as she laughed, covering her mouth so that the sound of it didn't make a scene. "Oh, Vorn. We both know that this strange bedfellowship is older than you and me and will outlive us. The best we can do is to play the game our own way."

"Our own way?" He mocked her subtly. She bopped him on the arm, then caught the second beer sliding her way. "Where are your... tapes by the way? I see a jacket, normal pants, and no Sith tattoos on your lekku. Have you got... tamer?" He looked at her intently, knowing it was not the case, and the lack of her trademark trappings must have had other reasons. "Who is your lord again, Moyr?"

"Lord Yulo. You may not have heard of him."

"Yes, I have not heard of him."

"I am not displeased with him yet."

"Of course. So..." A long pause ensued, filled with awkward silence and sipping drinks. The Chiss broke it first. "...how can I help you?"

"How nice of you to ask. You know, I've acquired my own freighter, in a bit of raw condition. Lacking fancy perks. It would be nice if some Mando wonderwork was done to it... I'll cover the expenses."

"If not for the last sentence I'd think you're just trying to be a cheapskate on me. With Sith discounts, you could get a shiny new thing from the Imperial Shipyards with a comparable price tag."

She scoffed lightly. "And what if I don't want shiny?"

Vorn shook his head, keeping his expression deadpan. "Right. That kind of ship. And I wondered why I couldn't track you down... Once a smuggler, ever a smuggler. What is this 'beauty' registered by?"

He might not have been spot on, but Moyr did not call him out on it. "The Bitch." She said with a cutely innocent pout.

There are situations in which even a Chiss can't hold a straight face. "Charming." Vorn pressed his lips together to prevent them from shaking. "I'll see what I can do about slapping her up."

"Please." She giggled as she brought the code card to his hand. It looked like she just might put it in his palm, but in the end she placed it right beside it. "Rimmer's Rest, Vorn. That's where the good music has been. Maybe still is." She left the second beer half-drained as she rose.

The Chiss remained where he was. "We'll have to find out."