Koan Gantt approached Dex's Diner with an even stride that belied his turbulent thoughts. He had parted with Dex on friendly terms, and Dex never forgot anyone. But he was in the kind of situation no sane person would stick their neck into; he could only hope Dex was willing to listen and knew someone he could turn to. Even in the barren wastes of Concordia where he'd met the man, he always seemed to know someone, or failing that, a "friend of a friend." Logic suggested his setting up a Coruscant diner had only improved matters, but this was too important for him to help worrying. Arriving in front of the red rimmed door, Koan entered the bustling, aggressively metallic diner.

Moments later he was greeted by a red, monopod server droid with a metal skirt and feminine curves to match. "By yourself, honey?" It's honeyed voice emanated from a slit mouth, and went well with its assumed gender.

"Yes," he said, and the droid wheeled around toward an open seat at the bar. "But I was hoping to speak with Dex about something important. Can you tell him-"

"Koan!" A warm voice rose from behind the bar, and as the man named turned Dex's smiling face rose as well from behind the serving window. Koan took this as a good sign, idly curious if Dex greeted every past acquaintance so warmly, as he ambled forth from the kitchen and took a seat at the bar.

"So what brings you over from Concordia?" said Dex, as if it was but a flight to the next town.

Koan closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and leaning toward Dex. "I need help. I'm in a situation with some rather dangerous people, and I don't trust the Mandalorian government to be able to help. Or, I don't trust all of it." He inclined his head toward Dex. "I need someone who can help, but I'll go it alone if necessary. Lives are at stake; and it's personal." He paused for a moment, his serious expression becoming more vulnerable. "You don't know any Jedi, do you?"

Dex was silent for a moment, drumming two hands worth of meaty fingers on the tabletop while his lower left stroked his ample chin. "I do know a Jedi," he said after a moment, and Koan let his hopes start to rise. "One of the better ones too, with a padawan even." He saw Koan's attempt to school his expression and sighed. "But that means they send him all around the galaxy. I think he's out on a diplomatic mission in the mid-rim, right now."

Koan let out a small sigh, mouth closed. "Any idea if he'll be back in the next standard week?" His voice betrayed a hint of desperation that almost made him wince.

"No," Dex said, honest regret evident in his voice. "I take it's a matter of urgency? He'll be back eventually, and I may be able to get him interested, especially if you're talking about some kind of corruption on Mandalore. I think Kenobi had a soft spot for that place."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Koan sat up. "I heard he was one of the Jedi that stepped in during the Great Clan Wars."

Dex smiled broadly. "The same." Then Koan's slumped back down, and Dex's bony eyebrows narrowed toward his head crest. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can come to him, not if I can't talk in person first. The group I have problems with would notice to him. They might hurt the people I'm trying to help," Koan said, staring at the countertop.

Dex stroked his chin again as he stared out into the distance. "There might be someone. You used to be an armorer, back on Concordia?"

"I still am," Koan said, raising his eyes again to those of the Besalisk. He wasn't sure what Dex was getting at, but knew he always got to a point eventually. "I make armor for the ceremonial guard, now. Part of why I'm have trouble."

"There's a bounty hunter I might be able to put you in touch with, who's come here a few times," he said slowly. "She's even back on Coruscant right now."

"I need someone trustworthy!" He hissed, lips tight. "And I can't pay a bounty hunter not what they'd ask for this."

Dex gave him a smile. "But this one has something you could offer. I heard she's looking for someone to make her a set of armor. Someone who knows Mandalorian armor."

Koan stared at Dex for a moment before he replied. "I stopped making armor for those savages for a reason, and it wasn't the politics," he said frostily. "Why would I do it for a mercenary without even pretensions of honor?"

"Well, she has a fairly clean rep, for a bounty hunter," Dex rumbled. "I know she found my place after she pinched someone right outside. She could have barged in here and made a scene, but she waited 'till he left and still avoided one. Besides, since everyone else she can find feels the same way, she can't just go to someone else," he said, smile growing conspiratorial, his voice even moreso. "And it's not something she can coerce from you. Not if she thinks it will keep her alive," he finished, chuckling ominously.

Koan took a long breath and rubbed his temples. "Fine then. Tell me how to get in touch with her."

Samus returned to her assigned docking bay, curious about the comm she'd got from a man who wanted to hire her. As a fairly new fish in this galaxy's pond, this was the first time someone specifically contacted her; the time with the ship she'd just been in the right place at the right time. A fair skinned, blond man was sitting on a bench near the docking bay, and wearing a greenish blue tunic and pants.

"Samus Aran?" he said, getting up as she left the pedestrian traffic of the main corridor for the docking bay entryway.

She nodded. "I'm guessing you don't intend to pay in credits." Her voice matter of fact, as her eyes noted the cut of his clothing matched what she'd seen of Mandalorians.

He cocked his head at the door, and Samus nodded; they could talk more inside. She input the code to the large double cargo doors and stepped inside. "I assume that won't be a problem," he replied as the door closed, and they walked toward the Light of Aether.

"No. You're offering something that I evidently can't buy with credits. As an added bonus, such jobs tend to be more interesting." She smiled as she input another code to lower the boarding ramp.

"Not how I would describe it," he growled, and Samus dropped the smile when she looked at him again.

"Personal, then?" she said, posture and tone all business as she walked up the ramp and into the common room. She waved for him to sit at the L-shaped couch around the triangular table, and took a seat opposite him. R2-R3, who she called Sphere, was plugged into the monitor station. He warbled when they came in before returning his attention to it.

"Yes," he said, taking a moment to gather himself, and setting his face in an impassive mask. "To put it bluntly, my wife and two sons have been kidnapped by terrorists to be used as leverage."

There was a moment of silence before she spoke. "That certainly is personal," she said with a nod. "I assume you need me to rescue them. Tell me the who and the why."

He paused a moment, before speaking in a tone that somehow combined dry presentation with simmering anger. "They call themselves the Death Watch. They're a group of Mandalorian warriors who want a return to our violent past. I don't know how widespread they are, but the government doesn't acknowledge their existence. I don't know if it's from ignorance or denial. They approached me some time ago attempting to recruit me; firstly because I was an armorsmith and clan warrior before the conclusion of our civil war ten years ago, and second because I now serve as a smith for the ceremonial guard in the capital of Sundari."

Samus crossed her arms. "And they didn't take no for an answer."

"No. They cannot recruit me as a warrior, so they still want me to place listening devices and other espionage tools in the armor, where it may be difficult for scanners to detect. If I refuse or try to tell anyone, they've threatened to sell my family into slavery with the Hutts, as they feel 'traitors' deserve no honorable death." This last was bitten out, and Samus couldn't help but identify with his smoldering rage. She'd known it well.

"Do you have some proof they're well?" she said. "I can't commit to this without some idea they're still alive."

"They let me send recorded messages once a month, and receive responses in turn. But I'm worried they're working towards denying me sending messages myself," he said, lips pursed.

"Which would let them use recorded messages." She nodded. "Good enough. Now for the deal. You obviously heard I'm looking for armor," she began, but he cut her off.

"Though a serious breach of tradition, I will forge the armor if you can save my family," he said gravely.

Samus let out an exasperated sigh. "In point of fact, the armor I want commissioned is not Mandalorian. It's similar enough I wanted a Mandalorian to make it, but I want something heavier and with more coverage. Sphere, if you would?"

R3 warbled an affirmative, and disconnected from his station before wheeling over and switching on his holoprojector. Above the table appeared a rotating holographic image of the armor Samus envisioned. It's similarities to Mandalorian armor were obvious, starting from its metal construction, but the differences were also clear to Koan. The legs were fully enclosed front and back, with overlapping guards over the knee. The arms were similarly protected, and the torso armor used multiple overlapping plates to provide freedom of movement of Mandalorian armor while covering its vulnerable gaps. Also unlike standard Mandalorian armor, the torso was protected under the arms as well. Finally, the helmet had a triangular viewport rather than a T, which Koan could not know was based on Samus's powersuit helmet.

"In addition to the increased coverage, the plates would be thicker as well. I would like for most of it to withstand hits from typical blaster rifles," she said after giving him a moment to examine the hologram. "Before you raise the obvious mobility issues, I should mention I'm a near human. My particular heritage gives me improved strength and agility. And your skill as an armorsmith should alleviate any ergonomic issues; this is merely a concept. Other features I want would be at least an hour of endurance in vacuum, and at least some modularity for a visual sensor package." She could see that despite himself he was intrigued by the project, and his words bore this out.

"I haven't made anything really new for some time," he said, leaning back with arms crossed, and staring into the distance. He sat there for half a minute before he continued. "It will take time and special equipment, but I can satisfy the first part. I don't know how to make space suits, but I can make the suit so you can replace the under layer with a skinsuit. I'll do my best making the helmet modular, but it's not my area of expertise, and it will likely need some modification." He turned to her once more, his face serious again. "If that's settled, then I just have one condition."

Samus looked at him like a cat waiting for another to pounce. "What?"

"I'm coming with you on the rescue mission," he said, arms still crossed and head inclined toward her.

"That's a terrible idea," She said flatly. "You'll get in the way, and I'll have one more person to protect. Going in and out."

"I won't negotiate on this," he stated. "I don't know you, and I won't leave my family entirely in the hands of a stranger. Besides, I may be an armorer, but I'm a Mandalorian armorer, not some untrained civilian."

"You can still get killed," said Samus, glaring. "Besides leaving me in the lurch, how do you know I'll finish the mission?"

He narrowed his eyes a bit, but raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "My family should be able to put you in touch with some friends I made in my warrior days. If you can convince them you acted with honor, they'll fulfill my end of the bargain."

Samus continued to glare at him for a moment, before looking away with a sigh. She could tell he wouldn't budge on the issue, and privately couldn't quite blame him for it.

"Fine," she said, running a hand through her hair. "But remember, too, that it's on you if you slow me down. Now," she said, looking straight into his eyes, "What can you tell me about them? How big a threat are they."

Koan sat back, looking off into the distance once more. "They'll be wearing Mandalorian armor, of course. Not as complete protection as what you want, especially the legs, but a lot better than anyone else you might run into. They'll have jetpacks, often with an integrated missile launcher. Concealed weapons in the gauntlets can typically include a blaster, vibroblade, fibercord whip, and a miniaturized flamethrower with good range for its size. They're well trained with their gear, but I have no idea of their experience. Unfortunately, I also have no idea where to find them, although I assume my family is being held on Concordia. That's Mandalore's moon. It's sparsely populated enough to hide, but there are mining operations that allow for a lot of traffic back and forth."

"That's a lot of options at their disposal, but they can't use it all at once." Samus could tell this was going to be a headache. "Doesn't really narrow down where to find the base."

"Afraid not," he sighed. "Obviously, if they were easy to find, Duchess Satine and the Mandalorian government would have done something about them already."

"What about the kidnapping?" she asked. "Might be some clues from it."

"Well, nothing forensic, of course. It happened about five standard months ago. I was visiting Concordia to look into a new ore vein reputed to be of armor quality. My wife, Aaotin, heard of some hot springs nearby, and we decided to turn my trip into a family vacation. We took a public interplanetary shuttle and stayed the night. When I returned from my trip the next day, I found a hologram device in my room. It scanned the room before playing a message from a Death Watch member in armor, who briefly showed my family was in their hands, before telling me that I would do as they said or else they would be sold to the infamous Gardulla the Hutt. Afterwards, the projector's circuitry self-destructed with a small incendiary charge; otherwise I would have brought with me. They contacted me again a week later."

"I assume nothing's readily traceable?" she said, as something tickled her brain.

"Not without government resources, no. But I've already gone over why that isn't viable."

"Yes…" She trailed off for a moment. "You're sure the message specified Gardulla the Hutt?" she asked slowly.

His reply was even, measured. "Quite sure. You don't forget that sort of message. Why?"

"I may be able to trace this backwards. If Death Watch has an arrangement, or has done this before, there may be records on the slave trader's end that could lead me to them," she said. "Once I find out where Gardulla is based, I can make plans. How do I contact you when I find them?"

"Go to the Mandalorian capital of Sundari and head to the Peace Moon tapcaf," he said after a moment. "The owner's been a loyal supporter of Satine's faction since before it was her faction, so I can trust him to get a message to me that you've shown up. Now I should go. I'm supposed to be here on business, and the only reason I have that long a leash is because they think I don't have the money, connections, or evidence for something like this."

"Then you'd best be off," said Samus, putting her hand forward. He shook it, nodded, and walked off the ship.

For her part, she needed to visit the bar, and get some equipment.

A/N:

Just a heads up; my job is getting rather busy, and I may have to work a few weekends in the near future. Don't be surprised if the next chapter is delayed a bit.

For anyone who hasn't watched the prequels in a while, Dexter's Diner is where Obi-Wan goes to find out about Fett's Kamino Saberdart. Actually, I only just realized the irony of Mandalorians getting involved in this fic through him.

I was a bit hesitant to bring Mandalorians into this, as I don't want this to feel like another Samus fights Boba Fett fic (I feel the time period has pretty well averted that). But Samus needs some armor, and everyone knows they have the best. I'm picturing what she's asking for as a bit of Mandalorian armor, made quite a bit heavier to take advantage of her abilities. Something like a hardsuit, or the kind of armor space marines wear in a lot of videogames, but with a visor like her classic suit. Or maybe between Mandalorian and clone armor, without the plastic look.

Spoilers to follow about my plans for the story. Although you may guess from the above.

I feel I should say at this point that it will be quite some time before Samus gets her power suit back. Given that she can survive complete immersion in lava, indefinitely, in some of the games, I felt her fully powered suit presented too many problems from a story point of view. She might well be able to tank lightsaber hits! And it would be difficult to find out how the standard nerfed armor she starts every game with would work against Star Wars weapons. Not to mention there are no Chozo upgrades lying around.

So I'm planning to give her native Star Wars equivalents of her gear when possible. For example, the ascension gun from last chapter is the star wars equivalent of her grapple beam, and what she wants Koan Gantt to build her would be an analogue to her powersuit, albeit functioning differently given the lack of personal energy shields in the prequels (Supposedly Droideka shields give you radiation poisoning). More will come as appropriate, although many, like Morph Ball, I can't think of a solution for.