The Shadow clan

Chapter 1

Rocen Byrd struggled to remember what backwater planet he was on as he surveyed the interior of what clearly had to be one of the worst dives on that planet.

The room was full of smoke and poorly lit, grime was everywhere he could see and he was extremely thankful for both the filters and the enhancements provided by his helmet. He was armored in the full exterior plating of a sith battle droid from the old republic era, a repurposed set of armor he had come across after becoming Dar'manda and losing his inherited mandalorian armor.

A hush fell over the room as the door slid open and two robed figures entered. A twinge of his battle senses caused Rocen to perform a particular series of twitches with his fingers, arming the weapons in his gauntlets. The two figures threw back the hoods and revealed an extremely pale human woman escorted by a Black skinned Zabrak.

Not having a bantha in this fight Rocen was about to leave his seat when the heads of both figures snapped towards him and two sets of eyes locked on.

The Mandolorian tensed as he casually loosened his coveted Westar 35's in their holsters, body flushing with pre-battle endorphins.

The woman in the lead the pair approached Rocens table.

"I am Alyya Duren and this is my companion Raage, May we speak with you Warrior ?" She asked politely, although her attitude and posture revealed how uncomfortable she was.

"I am not for hire, Nightsister," Rocen growled. "If the job you wish to discuss offends me then the discussion may not remain peaceful."

The hulking black figure behind the sister twitched and was instantly staring at one of Rocen's blaster barrels, the other pointed at the sister.

"Stop!" she commanded, just in time as the Zabrak had begun to reach for his belt and Rocen had been about to fire.

"Raage, wait at the bar!" She growled.

"But Mistress," began Raage, "How can I.."

His jaw snapped shut as she glared at him, eerie green flashes of light beginning around her hands. "NOW!" she growled.

Looking more like a whipped pet than a warrior in his prime the Zabrak dropped his head and moved away quickly.

"I apologize for my companion," She said, returning her attention to Ro, "We do not often leave Dathomir and the number of people here disturb both of us."

"What did you wish to speak to me about?" Ro asked. He already had a bad feeling about whatever was to come of this meeting.

"The leader of our clan wishes to have a brief meeting with you." She said, "Concerning a matter she feels affects both of our peoples."

"Well, as much as I would enjoy meeting the great Mother Talsin again I do not have the time or the credits for a visit to Dathomir at this time." He replied, "and as the mother is aware I have no people."

"A visit will not be required," she returned, "Merely a place free from other people where we can conduct a short ritual."

Ro rocked back in his seat a bit as h tried to consider the angles here. He had done a great service for the Dathomirans ten or so years before, and had, as far as he knew at least, done nothing since to erode the good will he had established.

"I don't suppose we can just go to my ship or yours and contact her via galactic comm?" Sighed Ro, "Force use makes me uncomfortable."

Her eyebrow rose as she visibly perked up, "If being around force users makes...." She began before Ro quickly cut her off.

"I'm below the threshold for force sensitivity." He growled.

She tensed at the tone of his voice, hand dropping for the whip handle at her belt.