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Getting past the stormtroopers had been too easy, Hebe had to hold herself back from gripping onto Din's cape for comfort, or even reach out and brush her fingertips against the pod. Despite no child being in there. She felt a tremor creep through her body as the troopers stared at the concealed woman leading a Mandalorian in handcuffs. "Are you sure they don't know what I look like?" She whispered to Karga, self consciously adjusting her head wrap and mask.
"They won't recognise you as long as you act like you belong here."
"Should I draw a dick on my forehead? I'm sure they wouldn't so much as glance in my direction," she quipped, Mando lightly kicked her in the back of the leg in a warning. She heard Cara cough as she choked back a chortle.
"Hebe, calm down," she heard Mando snap, with a sigh, she straightened her back and lifted her chin slightly. Alright, if I'm was going to be like them, may as well act as pompous as possible, She thought.
"You said four," Cara spoke up after glancing around. "There are more than four troopers."
"Four guarding the client. Many more here in town."
"And you just so happened to forget to mention that," Hebe rolled her eyes, sending a displeased side-eye to Karga.
"Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse."
"Slip him his blaster," Cara said quietly.
"Not yet." They walked tautly until Karga led them to a specific door that slid open. "Here we are."
"Do you think I should go in there?" Hebe whispered, bringing one hand to her mouth, then lowered it remembering the cloth concealing her face.
"Well, there's nowhere else for you to go. Come on, I've got you," Cara patted her shoulder and winked to try and ease the woman's anxiety. Mando entered first, being handled roughly by Karga, much to Hebe's and Cara's distaste. Four troopers eyed them unnervingly, to Hebe at least. "You see? Four." There, in the centre of the room, stood a much older human man, balding and wrinkled. Hebe scrunched up her nose. She eyed the gold medallion necklace, adorning the Guild symbol, resting on his chest.
"Look what I brought you. As promised."
"What exquisite craftmanship," the man raised his hand to grace Mando's helmet. Hebe felt her stomach coil, writhing like a snake trying to free itself from a tenacious hand. "It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans. Can I offer you a ligation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?"
"I would be obliged," Karga replied. The old man signalled to a droid who began making drinks.
"Please sit. It is a shame that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now." Hebe stamped down a scoff. The client glanced around before staring at Mando again.
