Nar Shaddaa

Craw was sitting at the bar, having a drink. He was in his armour, his helmet off.

A mandalorian approaches and says, "Corso wants a word."

"Well then." Craw puts down the drink. "A word he shall have." He gets up and follows the mandalorian to where Corso is.

Corso has loose fitting clothes and no armor despite the best attempts of his second he isn't suited up. He is armed as he looks up and stands, "Craw, I am glad you were there. Want something to drink?"

Craw nodded. "Glad that I was here too. Yeah, a drink wouldn't be bad. Something strong."

Corso motions for someone to bring Craw a drink and says, "You wear the armor, know the ways but what do you believe is the future for the Mandalorian people? Should Mando'a just be guns for hire killing each other for creds or could we be something more?"

Craw scratches his chin. "More? Well this is the only life I've ever known. Killing for money, not a lot of other ways for men like me to survive in this crazy galaxy without signing off my freedom to someone else. Like the Republic or the Empire." He paused to think. "Yeah, I think we could be something more. I think we could be a lot more. If we just stopped this squabbling." He sighed. "Not that I'm not responsible for my own fair share of infighting. And I regret that. Every day."

He turns to face Craw and says, "It's that kind of attitude that we need more of, an admission of our own role in the state of affairs of our people. You can;t fix a problem if you are too proud to admit you have a problem."

"I was once like that, only cared about credits and the next big score. Kill a few Mandalorians to get, it's just business. Could have been like that till some young gun like you got lucky. I want better for our people. I need good men like you Craw."

Craw looked at the man, puzzled. "You offerin' me a job?"

“Jobs are for mercs, I am offering you an opportunity to be something more than just gun for hire. A chance at real glory, a chance to fight as Mando’ade were meant to,” Corso says.

“Conquering is good business.”

Craw was silent for a moment. "I've got my own crew to take care of. They're like my family, you know? I've got to talk to them before I can accept anything." He pauses. "And if I do accept... Well I've got other... Responsibilities that'll come haunting me sooner or later. When they catch up to me... Well I can't promise I'll survive them."

“We all bring our burdens and corpses from our past,” Corso replies.

“Think it over, but I could use a good fighter like you.”

Craw responded, his tone level and respectful. "I'll consider it. I really do appreciate the offer, whether I take it or not."

Corso nods and sips his liquor before adding. “What id the rest of your clan up to, been a few years since I heard the Toboga name. Given the state of our people I was inclined to think the worst. Then again knowing the few I met, you know how to survive.”

A flash of surprise dances across Craw's face, but he soon returns it to normal parameters. "Hanging on by a thread mostly. I'm kicking ass with my crew. My uncle's got his shipyard at the outer rim, been a while since I talked with him. And my..." The sentence trails off. He continues in a flat tone. "Don't know what everyone else is up. We don't talk that much." He pauses, looking curious. "You've met more people of my clan? Who, if I may ask?"

“Knew a woman, she is tough as a rancor, we worked together we fought against each other it was business back in those days. Wonder if she is still kicking around the galaxy could use someone like that on my side. Reliable and tough,” he says thoughtfully.

Craw's expression is somewhere between disbelief and bafflement. "Can you remember her name?"

“Think I ran into someone you knew?” Corso offers.

“It’s been many years… I can see the face clearly but the name… took a few too many blows to the head so you might have to help me out?” he adds with a dry laugh.

Craw nodded. "Not a lot of us out there you know." He paused. "The name Winn Toboga say anything to you?"

“Yeah, she has been off the grid for awhile or at least not in touch. You know what happened to her?” he responds.

Craw's expression is blank for a moment. And then appears to harden, his mouth twisting into a frown. "I don't and that's sort of the problem. She's my mother." He says, his tone oddly calm. He takes a deep sip from his drink.

Corso says, “Well brother, how can we help? We don’t just fight together, Mando’ade are here to help each other. If you need to find her, I got people that can help. What happened?”

Craw sighs, and puts his drink down. He looks down at the table again before speaking. "Yeah I'd appreciate the help... It's been close to 13 years since I last saw her... I spent my childhood on this out of the way planet in the outer rim, my mother had a price on her head, and my dad was dead so she raised me there in hiding. When I was thirteen I had my Verd'goten, after which she got me to my uncle's shipyard on a smuggler ship and just... Left me. Without a word. Maybe it had something to do with the bounty or something... I thought she was dead." His expression was pained as he spoke.

“If she is alive, we will find her, Craw,” Corso says with a bit steel in his voice.

Craw looked up at the man, his expression serious. "Thank you, really."