“…hadn’t considered it, but you have a good point about his guards.” Zash mused, tilting her head and tapping her chin in consideration. She glanced at the hulking beast behind me and smiled slightly, a genuine twinkly in her eye. “And you certainly have a point about the presence of Khem Val. Pound for pound, he’s beyond Skotia, even with all the extra metal the brute has filled himself with. That being said, simply using your dashade to solve all of your problems is hardly appropriate behavior for a Sith. So while I won’t have you bother with the trandoshans and their wretched tablet, there is another task I require of you. Something to make sure things go the way I want them to, and to make sure the wretch doesn’t get clever by using his cybernetics to send a signal when you cut him down to size. There is a scientist, Dorotsech, who has been devising a weapon meant for Skotia. Unfortunately, he was kidnapped by that fool, Grathan. I need you to infiltrate Grathan’s estate and retrieve that weapon. Take some time, scout it out, plan properly. It won’t be easy.”
Well, I was glad that my argument against the tablet, at least, had gone well. Fighting through another slave rebellion to retrieve a stone tablet, simply so I could watch Skotia one-shot the two brothers it controlled, sound like a hell of a waste of time to me.
That being said, Grathan’s estate wouldn’t be easy to handle. The man was in the middle of a full-blown bitch-fit of a rebellion against the Dark Council, his ‘estate’ was more like a fortress in the middle of the jungle, filled with soldiers and lesser Sith and heavy weapons and fixed defenses. Not an easy threat to confront, to say the least, but hopefully Vriska would ‘catch up’ sooner rather than later, and we could go in together. That would certainly help. I certainly couldn’t rely on any of my other assets, the last thing I needed to do was drag Nicky and her House into a fight with Grathan by asking for her support, and I really doubted Zash would let me get away with continuing to use Kory in combat right now.
She was meant to be my sex-pet after all, not my apprentice.
“Understood, my Lord. I’ll see what I can find out right away. Should I present my final plan to you, or would you rather see my inevitably brilliant results and get the full details afterwards?” I acknowledged and asked, getting a smirk and a headshake in response, amusement drifting into the Force around her.
“Cheeky, very cheeky, but that’s one reason I like you so much, Vestara. Mmh. Keep it to yourself until things are over, I’d rather have the suspense.” And the plausible deniability, no doubt, just like she would when I was sent after Skotia, not that I was stupid enough to say as much. “I assume that, for now, you’re using your old home as your base of operations here on the capital? From what I gather, Asmu-Nikal was certainly eager enough to greet you at the spaceport.”
“She was indeed, my Lord.” I replied simply, smiling faintly but genuinely, treading the fine line of acknowledging the obvious fact that Nicky and I cared for one another without giving any more than that. “And yes, the Luwian estate will be where I’m staying for the time being. As pleasant as the apartments or cantina accommodations no doubt are here in the city, it seems wiser to save some credits, and have some fine company as well.”
“Mmh, yes, well make sure that such fine company doesn’t distract you from your duties, Apprentice. You certainly spent enough time bedding women at the Academy, and it doesn’t seem to have been overly detrimental to your efforts there, but that was a rather more regimented existence. Here, you will be taking your own initiative to complete the tasks I give you, and creating your own methods of doing so. So make sure to focus on the right things, hmm?” she warned me, though her tone was more teasing than anything else, and she laughed at the soft huff that flowed from my lips. “Oh, don’t be like that, apprentice. I didn’t say that you couldn’t have your fun, I just want you to make sure that you keep your eyes on the prize. I foresee great things for you, dear, and it would break my heart to see you fail.”
Yes, because then you couldn’t steal my body and use it to steal my heritage and my family. I responded in the privacy of my own head, mental tone somewhere between scathing and acidic. Outwardly, of course, I merely bowed with a pout, sensing her amusement bleeding into the force. “Of course, my Lord. I promise that your tasks will be completed with speed and skill. Never fear, the scientist and the weapon will both be in my hands, in a suitably impressive fashion.”
“Good! That’s what I like to hear, my girl.” Zash beamed at me, all warmth and fondness and approval that was somewhere between equally inappropriate ‘big sister’ and ‘mother’, which would be a hell of a turn on if I didn’t know what she really looked like and what she planned. “Now, be off with you. I’ve forwarded you some credits, if you combine it with whatever you can tease out of the Luwian girl, you should be able to afford some proper armor and equipment. I’d recommend a small personal shield generator, if nothing else. They’re not infallible, but mine has saved my life at least a half-dozen times.”
That was actually very good advice, and I gave her a dutiful bow of respect as I obeyed the unvoiced dismissal, sweeping from her office with Khem on my heels. I could sense his amusement through our bond, likely directed towards the ‘Witch’ we had just left behind us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he would think of her when he realized what it was that she had planned. Probably nothing positive, if I had to guess, and I could only hope that he would simply obey my instructions not to chop her head off at his first opportunity.
And not just because of what she planned to do to me. I had the feeling that he wouldn’t be too impressed with her methods, like sending me out to gather all of the required materials and artifacts instead of doing it herself. I think half of the reason that he acknowledged the Inquisitor as the Heir of Tulak Hord in the game is because of exactly that, honestly, and I somewhat looked forward to finding out more. Thought I didn’t think I would be casually chatting with him anytime soon. Unlike some, I wasn’t interested in admiring and emulating the ‘good old days’ of the Sith, but rather forcing the Order to evolve further still. To become even less like it had been in his time.
I sighed and shook my head, pushing those much-later plans back to where they belonged in the back of my mind. I had a long way to go before I was in a significant enough position of power and authority to lay anything more than the most cautious foundations for any of them, and if there was one thing Zash was right about, it was that I couldn’t let myself get too distracted from my immediate goals. Which didn’t lie in scouting, but instead in -as Zash had suggested- shopping. Shopping for fine gear, and…
“Khai!” a voice called out to me as I started up the ramp towards the taxi that would take me towards the market district, and I looked round to see a beaming Mako bouncing towards me with Vriska and an armored Mandalorian trailing after her. I blinked in surprise, sensing glee from Mako and what almsot felt like…disappointment, from Vriska?
“Mako, Vriska, hey!” I responded as they came into earshot, nodding to the Mandolorian politely and indicatively. “Whose your new friend?”
“This is Iisa, Iisa Vizla! She’s participating in the Great Hunt! She heard about what happened to Braden and the others, she wants me to join her crew! She’s going to help me get revenge on that fucker Tarro!” the cybernetically-enhanced hacker cheered, practically bouncing in place from delight that had more than a little bit of darkness honing it’s edge. Well, that explained Vriska’s darker mood quite nicely, it had been obvious to me that she was rather fond of the smaller human. But she wouldn’t try and persuade Mako to stay with her, not when Mako had a chance to get justice for her murdered father figure and friends, and my respect for the Chiss woman rose several notches higher than it had already been.
“And here I was hoping I could take you and Vriska home again instead.” I sighed dramatically, enjoying the way Mako blushed and Vriska briefly smirked, the humor a nice deflection from my genuine mix of disappointment, suspicion, and approval, not to mention that unsteadying shock that the Great Hunt plotline might actually be relevant after all. Turning my attention to the Mandalorian in question, I gave a short and shallow bow. “If your offer to our Mako is genuine, than you have my genuine thanks and an equally genuine offer of hospitality at the Estate of House Luwian.” I let the words linger for a moment, waited for her to be on the verge of replying, before continuing with narrowed eyes and a colder tone. “If it is not genuine, if this is some sort of wretched game you’re looking to play or because you’re looking to hand our Mako off to Blood, I assure you that we will find out, and Mandalorian or not, I promise that you will die screaming. So if your intentions are less than strictly honorable, I suggest you depart. Promptly.”
Mako winced, Vriska arched an eyebrow, Khem grunted in amusement, and the Mandalorian? She just stared at me for a long, long moment. A tense moment, given that I could barely sense anything through her beskargam, and I very carefully didn’t keep my hand too close to my saber hilt…and equally carefully didn’t keep it too far away, either.
Then she laughed, loud and unrestrained, helm tilting back slightly as she gave voice to what damn well sounded like genuine amusement. The kind of laughter that came from deep in the gut and filled the body, instead of something shallow from the throat, and as the tension started to bleed away she unsealed her helmet and braced it on her hip to reveal…well.
She was gorgeous, utterly gorgeous, and it was immediately and blatantly clear to me that she wasn’t just a regular member of Clan Vizla, but a close relation of Shae herself. In fact, judging by the fact that she was a dead ringer for the young Shae that had helped Malgus infiltrate the Jedi Temple in one of the cinematics, she was Shae’s daughter. Rich copper-red hair that would shine in the sunlight if there was any on this damn planet, hazel eyes that were dancing with amusement and approval, and a handful of scars that only added to her attractiveness.
“Well now, here’s a rare thing. A Sith Apprentice that actually seems to give a damn about the people around her, and is willing to threaten a Mando’ade to do it. That’s either the bravest or stupidest thing I’ve seen in a while, and I watched a spice-head try to fist-fight an adult Nexu last month.” Iisa’s grin was a sharp one, but not the sort of sharp that implied any sort of threat or danger, just untempered amusement. “Relax, Khai. Mako’s told me all about you, good things well-earned, it seems, and she’s nothing to fear from me either. Tarro Blood is a disgrace of a Mandalorian, and my mother and I are no fans of his. I have every intention of making him suffer during the Hunt, and every intention of helping Mako get justice in the end.”
“Your mother, huh?” I eyed her thoughtfully, wondering if I should comment further, before dropping it. A random apprentice probably shouldn’t be that familiar with Clan Vizla, and the last thing I needed to do -especially since Mako had apparently been singing my praises- was get on her bad side by opening my mouth when I really shouldn’t. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and I’m grateful to you for helping Mako get revenge for her friends. And since you’re doing that, my invitation from earlier stands. You’re welcome in the Luwian Estate. Good food, good company, and if nothing else, good security as you plan out whatever you have to do to move forward in the Hunt.”
She studied me for a moment longer, that sharp grin softening into something that looked almost like genuine warmth -or as least as close to it as a Mando’ade was willing to get in public with strangers while armored- and glanced at Mako, who nodded a bit eagerly. Which was flattering, if I was going to be honest.
“Heh. I appreciate the offer, Khai, and we might just take you up on it. We have some shopping to do before the Hunt proper kicks in, Mako needs some proper armor and better blasters than those akk-shooters than she’s got now, but maybe after…?” she trailed off, and I grinned.
“Khem and I were actually about to make our way to the Market District for much the same reason. Trusting in the Force and my saber is all well and good, but only a fool runs around without some proper armor as well. You’d be welcome company, if you would like to join us, all three of you.” I offered, and while Mako agreed immediately and Iisa somewhat more slowly, Vriska shook her head.
“Would that I could, but I’m expected at Intelligence Headquarters. I have a meeting with some higher-ups about some sort of special assignment.” she demurred, and I frowned as I remembered what that meant, and who she was about to meet.
“You have my comm code. Call me when you’re done. You can either join us, or meet us back at the Estate, depending on how much time has passed.” I told her, before hesitating, wondering how much I could say without getting a lot of very uncomfortable attention on the both of us. “Be careful, Vriska. I can feel that you’re standing on the threshold of something important, and…I can sense an immense power there. It feels like Darth Marr, but it isn’t him.”
She didn’t say anything for a short eternity, simply stared at me with sharp crimson eyes, before murmuring a quiet, genuine thank you and turning away from us. I watched her go with concern, a concern that grew as I thought about everything Jadus intended, not to mention the very existence of Zhorrid, and in that moment I made a snap decision.
I was going to talk to Marr, somehow, and I was going to warn him about Jadus’ plans. The man might be right about how the infighting in the Empire was actually endangering it but, much like Malgus, his methods of addressing that problem would only be more damaging to the Empire in the long run.
Plus, I just didn’t like him or his kid.
And I needed him out of the way so that Lana could eventually take over Imperial Intelligence. Preferably while Imperial Intelligence hadn’t been utterly gutted by the results of the Agent story. Ahh, there were so many things that I had to keep track of, and no one to help me do it!
…well, that wasn’t strictly true. I was pretty sure I could bring Kela and Nicky fully into my confidence, and probably even Kory. I was quite confident that their loyalty to me was more than sufficient to reveal that my ‘precognitive visions’ were actually me remembering playing a video game in another life and on another plane of reality. The question was, did I want to put that kind of weight on them? Did I have a right to put that weight on them, when they had so much to worry about all ready? Putting aside the pressure of having to control so much of the future, you had the existential dread! Maybe…maybe I would lead into things by revealing more of the future to them, in broad strokes, and see how they handled that?
Something to figure out later, probably after some gentle, prodding conversation with my girls to judge how well they could handle that much of a reveal. For now, I had gear to collect and gentle prodding of Mako’s new friend -and a fellow ‘champion’- to worry about.
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Iisa Vizla was a Mandalorian, which by her very nature meant that she tended to be direct, honest, and more prone to resolving issues through sufficiently applied violence than anything else. She fought when she wanted, fucked who she pleased, and lived her life as she saw fit within the bounds of the Resol’nare and her clan head’s decrees. That did not, however, mean that she was an idiot or a blunt object that thought of nothing but fighting and fucking. If she’d ever been that stupid, her mother would have put a stop to it quickly enough. No, she was well aware of the fact that the Sith Mako had told her so much about was evaluating her closely and taking her measure, and she didn’t doubt that the girl would be using whatever contacts and influence she had to find out more from third parties whenever she was able. Even the offer to stay at the Luwian estate here on Dromuund Kaas while she was on-world was meant to establish a measure of control and surveillance over her, while her motives were investigated.
And, unlike some, she wasn’t offended by that. Didn’t feel her honor had been slighted or her reputation needed to be preserved. Why would she? She was a stranger to these people, appearing from nowhere with the claim of helping their friend against one of ‘her own kind’, for all that Tarro Blood wasn’t a member of her clan and barely qualified as Mandalorian to begin with.
If anything, she respected Khai for it. Respected the caution, the protectiveness, the willingness to threaten violence against someone with more experience, more weapons, and Force-dampening armor in the middle of a damn street, all on the behalf of a girl that she’d known for barely a handful of days. A girl that she clearly cared about, in a real and measurable way. That took guts, or at least took enough conviction to substitute for them, and if there were two things that Mandalorians could appreciate in a girl, it was guts and conviction.
Besides, she wasn’t unfamiliar with Vestara Khai, certainly more familiar with her stories than the Sith was with her own, and not just because of Mako. Oh, her new companion had told her plenty about the silver-haired beauty, almost all of it complimentary. About her martial prowess, her loyalty to those fighting beside her, her desire to preserve lives whenever possible and end them when she must. Iisa was certainly impressed with the story about their actions aboard the Black Talon and the Brentaal Star, for all that she would be making sure to double check and verify the details through her own means.
But the more interesting information came from other sources here on Dromuund Kaas itself, and on Korriban. Sources that no one outside of she, her mother, and her mother’s most trusted advisors knew about. The sort of sources that the clans of Mandalore used to monitor their allies amongst the Sith Empire for any sign of treachery or weakness, to make sure that the Mandalorians were never again slaves to the servants of the Dark Side. Sources that had been all to happy to talk about the slave girl that had seduced her owner, raised a rebellion against the Lord of the House that owned her, and cut him down. The slave that had been sent to Korriban on the recommendation of Darth Marr himself and quickly proven herself there, though the details were far murkier by the very nature of the security protocols the Sith Homeworld existed beneath.
What she did know, from those same sources and from her own careful observations over the course of the last few hours of shopping and conversation, was that Vestara Khai was dangerous in a way that had very little to do with the Force or with her lightsaber, or even with the connections that she was clearly cultivating and the followers that she was gathering. She could think, she could plan. In some ways, Iisa was reminded of her mother, of the way that Shae Vizla always seemed to be three moves ahead, seemed able to plan around corners and through blindspots that hadn’t even yet revealed themselves. The way she inspired genuine loyalty in people, even those that barely knew her, and was genuinely likeable and personable as she did it.
It was the last that was the most fascinating, because any Mandalorian knew that the greatest weakness of the Sith -besides their own arrogance- was their near-universal inability to inspire loyalty through anything but the infliction of fear and terror. That was a hollow sort of loyalty, prone to shattering when a sentient’s willingness to tolerate it was finally reached -thus Khai’s own life story, or the near-constant slave revolts that plagued Imperial worlds- or crumbling into dust the moment that the source of that ‘loyalty’ was removed or shown to be outmatched. The loyalty, the bonds, that Khai seemed able to and intent upon forging? That was more precious than even beskar, and her obvious desire to not be a classical Sith was all the more fascinating thanks to her past. No one would have been surprised that the rebellious, tortured, slave that had suffered gods-only-knows what sort of atrocious experimentation at the hands of her former owner had turned out to be a murderous and sadistic lunatic, just like so many other Sith.
Perhaps…perhaps that was why Marr had taken such an interest in her? Very few had ever caught the man’s eye in any way, at least in any way that didn’t result in punitive actions of a decidedly permanent sort, and those few had always quickly proven themselves to be lynchpins of the Empire. Men and women who stood head and shoulders above the rest, talent carefully cultivated and placed where it would best serve the Empire as a whole, rather than Marr alone. Because if there was one thing that anyone and everyone knew about Marr, it was that the Empire had no more a zealous defender and devoted servant than he. So perhaps Khai was another project of his, another woman he was honing into a sword and shield for his star-nation, someone that he believed could be trusted to place the needs of the Empire beyond her own power and desire.
If that was the case, than it was something -someone- that should have a close eye kept on it. Not necessarily out of any sort of suspicion, and certainly not -yet- out of any sort of hostility, but because her people had a vested interest in the Empire and the course that it was charting for itself in the years ahead. An empire led by people like Marr, with those like Khai supporting him, was far different from an Empire led by people like Jadus or Zhorrid or any of the other Sith that couldn’t restrain themselves from indulging in all manner of depravity and psychosis. And while other clans might have differing opinions -she knew certain members of Clan Fett still dreamed of returning to the days of Cassius Fett’s Neo-Crusaders, and hoped those self-same Sith would be the means to do so- she knew that her mother was firmly of the opinion that an Empire ruled by mentally stable Sith, or at least ones that could keep their worse natures under control when necessary, was far more preferable than one that wasn’t.
The Clans of Mandalore would not be dragged into oblivion by the madness of the Sith. Not again. It was only due to the friendship Revan had shared with Mandalore the Preserver that had saved them the last time they had fallen wholly under the Order’s sway, and her mother -amongst others- were determined to ensure that Mandalore was never again a servant, but an ally. An ally that could, and would, see to it’s own affairs as it saw fit, and remain an ally only so long as the Empire deserved that alliance.
“Iisa, come here and help me find the real armor, not the flashy nonsense that these people try to sell to idiots with more money than lifespan.” the growled words from the object of her contemplations had her grinning, even as the owner of the shop they were in blustered a protest. There was another reason to like the girl, she was sensible and willing to ask for advice when she wasn’t sure about something. Either that, or she was offering a branch to start a conversation and build a bit of rapport, which was just as sensible.
“What are you looking for? Heavy, light?” she asked in response, stepping up to join the silver-haired woman in inspecting the catalogue.
“Medium. My combat style relies more on sorcery and ending the fight quickly than endurance, so I need something I can move easily and quickly in, but I’m not stupid enough to run around in nothing more than a set of robes. Even if some of the cuts would be rather flattering.” was the response, and the hum that Iisa made was both understanding and agreement, because -as Khai scrolled through the aforementioned robe section- she very much had to agree that some of them would look very good on the other woman.
Say what you liked about the Sith, but when it came to clothes that flaunted the female form, they had it down to a science. An artful, often perverse science, but a science none the less. And it was certainly more artful than most Sith armor, which tended to be ‘more spikes’ and ‘as dramatic as possible’ instead of ‘functional’ or ‘aesthetically pleasing’. Yes, the Force apparently compensated for a lot, but she -and most other Mandalorians- thought that relying entirely upon that compensation was insane. Especially since those that wielded the Force could pull off maneuvers and feats of agility that no normal person could do, and do it in far heavier gear at that.
She’d seen the old helmet cam recordings her mom had of fighting alongside Malgus on Alderaan and Coruscant. The man had been wearing armor heavier than any suit of beskar, and it hadn’t slowed him down at all. She still remembered the clip of him jumping nearly forty feet into the air, and fifty or sixty horizontally, in a single effort during his duel with Ven Zallow in the Jedi Temple. And it had been his armor, and his personal shield generator, that had saved his life when Jace Malcom had detonated a thermal detonator less than a foot away from his head and chest.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Malgus was one of the few Sith her mother actually had relatively positive things to say about.
“That one.” she said suddenly, her eye caught by a particular manufacturer and model, her finger jabbing imperiously at the catalogue computer’s screen. “That’s the best armor for you to start in, at least with your specifications. It’s the heaviest medium armor on the market, and it also has the best protection to agility ratio. It shouldn’t slow you down at all, especially once you get used to it.”
“Czerka Nighthawk? I thought Czerka mostly made weapons and did mining?” Khai asked curiously, leaning in a bit to read the description carefully, and Iisa nodded.
“That’s true, but a few years ago they got smart and realized that selling high-quality armor made people even more likely to buy their best weapons, because they’d need those weapons, or those like them, to beat the armor. The Nighthawk line was designed for people like the Echani, amongst other…less reputable sorts,” Such as assassins, bounty hunters, and Hutt enforcers. “specifically because they need to move quick and smooth in a fight, but don’t want to go entirely unarmored.”
“Hmm.” Khai studied the entry for another long moment, scrolling through the specifications with the kind of careful attention that Iisa could only approve of. Not just looking at the price tag or the aesthetics, but actually reading the protection ratings, the material composition, the joint flexibility indexes. Though how much of all of that a former slave might actually be able to understand, Iisa didn’t know, and she wouldn’t judge either way. Everyone came from a different starting point, after all. Mandalorians knew that better than most. “The price is steep, but not unreasonable for what you’re getting, I suppose. And it comes in black, which is practically mandatory if you’re a Sith. Can’t have people thinking I’m soft just because I’m not wearing something covered in spikes and whatnot.”
“If you’re that concerned about the spikes, I’m sure we can find some to add.” Iisa said dryly, getting a huffed laugh in return.
“No, I don’t think so. It would be terribly inconvenient when it came to holding my girls if I had to worry about impaling them all the time. Or, at least,” she lips spread in a sly grin, and Iisa abruptly remembered something else that she had heard about Vestara Khai. “Impaling them with the wrong sort of tool.”
“Ha!” the bark of laughter snapped from her lips before she could catch it, not that she tried particularly hard. The joke was crude and not particularly creative, but it was delivered with casual, comfortable confidence and self-awareness, which made it impossible not to appreciate. And the fact that she felt comfortable enough to make that sort of joke with someone who was more-or-less still a complete stranger was as interesting as it was gratifying, because it implied that she had a read on Iisa’s own personality. A fairly accurate read, as it happened, though in fairness the other woman might have simply thought a lack of prudishness was a Mandalorian trait.
Which it essentially was, if she was going to be fair.
“So,” she voiced, eyeing the catalogue as Khai tapped away at the screen to place the order. “you mentioned a personal shield generator as well. Now, you could get the one that comes as a package deal with the Nighthawk, and it’s good, but Baktoid has slightly better options. They’re slightly weaker, only 85% of the same durability, but that shouldn’t be enough to really make a difference against anything but turrets or crewed weapons, and they’re reactive rather than active. Not to mention smaller and lighter.”
“Meaning they only block what they have to, preventing burn outs or excessive power draw.” Khai caught on quickly, grinning, as she selected the proper manufacturer. “Makes sense for those little flying bastards to have a talent for miniaturizing and lightening the load.”
“Exactly. Their sonic weapons aren’t bad either, but I’ve always preferred a reliable blaster or a slugthrower.” Iisa agreed, slapping one of her holders pistols demonstrably. “More reliable, useful in more situations than a sonic would be, and way easier to get ammunition and modifications for.”
“Speaking of which,” Khai continued, her attention shifting to a different section of the catalogue, “I need a decent sidearm. My saber’s my primary, obviously, and I’m rather fond of Force-propelled thermal dets, but there are situations where a lightsaber or an explosive is…less than useful or viable. And I’d rather have a blaster I never use than need a blaster I don’t have.”
“Now you’re talking! Keep this up, and I might start thinking you’re sensible.” Iisa leaned over her shoulder, scrolling past the flashy, chrome-plated monstrosities that seemed designed more for holodrama characters than actual combat, and tapped on a subsection that most casual shoppers would have overlooked entirely. “Here. BlasTech AP-160-H. Compact, reliable, hits harder than it has any right to for its size and specializes in penetrating armor. Good holster draw, minimal maintenance requirements, and the power cells are standard enough that you could find replacements on a backworld or off any average enemy. Which is good, because it eats through cells like a bitch. You’re looking at a twenty shots, maximum, at full power. Twice that if you’re set for stun.”
“Twenty shots? That’s not a lot for a firefight!” Khai blinked at her in what looked like a cross between bemusement and bewilderment, and Iisa shrugged.
“It’s not, but this isn’t meant for trading shots with the opposite trench-line. You wouldn’t want a pistol for that anyway, you’d want a carbine.” she explained firmly. “This is something for you to pull when a saber can’t do the work, when your sorcery isn’t a good option, and when a detonator is just stupid. This is for when the shit hits the air circulator, nothing more or less.”
“…alright, fair enough. I’ll take it.” Khai promptly nodded in acceptance, adding the pistol and a half-dozen power cells to her growing order. “But you get to help me explain to Asmu-Nikal why her bank account took such a big hit when you join us at the estate for dinner tonight.
“Smoothly done. It’s a date then, I’m looking forward to it.” Iisa grinned, finding herself meaning every word. Oh, she didn’t think she’d be getting propositioned just yet, she doubted Vestara was stupid enough to invite a Mandalorian into her bed without knowing that she could trust them, but she wasn’t going to turn down an offer for fine hospitality, and it would make Mako happy. Which, oddly enough in spite of how briefly they had known one another, mattered to her.
Besides, making more friends amongst the up-and-comers in the Sith Order was only to her benefit, if she wanted to someday help protect Mandalore as her mother did, when Shae someday -long, long, long in the future- stepped down as Clan Head. And hadn’t she been thinking earlier that Vestara was one to keep a close eye on?
Dinner would be a fine opportunity to exactly that.
Now, if only Mako would be this easy to outfit, she’d think today had been a resounding success…