Into the Purge

Chapter Seven: Strange Meetings

Chapter Seven: Strange Meetings

Sheema had barely any time to think between when she had jumped down the tree, and blasted off. Of course she had heard her Master's word of encouragement, their bond was very strong, and they could easily sense each other's feelings.

She meditated most of the trip to Mandalore, clearing her mind to focus on the mission ahead... This wasn't the first time she had go after scum, and monsters like this. But usually Master Lieleon accompanied her, helping her locate and take down the threats.

Of course with the Clone Wars raging, these threats were popping up at impossible speeds, as though they were fueled by the dark sense that surrounded the whole war.

It wasn't always the gruesome work they did, occasionally they would help find kidnapped children, or Senators taken hostage by various terrorist groups. Sometimes they merely traveled to a planet that had recently been under siege, there they would help with the clean up and rebuilding. Thus planting little seeds of faith in the Jedi everywhere they went.

By the time she landed on Mandalore Sheema was completely focused, she lowered the landing ramp, and grabbed her cloak from the locker behind the pilots seat. She shrugged the cloak over her shoulders, and pulled the hood up over her head. Secretly she loved wearing the cloak, especially the hood, it made her feel secretive, and almost powerful. Because she knew exactly what was hidden underneath the thick fabric.

Walking down the ramp she was greeted with the usual state of chaos that she had come to connect with Mandalore... She saw that more of the newer, higher class buildings had been taken down, either burned or bombed, occasionally one would be spared and turned into a center of operations for the various extremist groups.

She pulled the cloak tighter and started for the direction of the run down area of the city, which seemed to have grown from the last time she was there.

Walking around she decided the best way to proceed would be to get some information, and by the looks of the numerous shady figures lining the alleyways that wouldn't be a problem.

Therefore she steered herself in their direction, making sure not to make eye contact with any of them. She waited for one to approach her, she knew from past experience one didn't always get the results you wanted if you went right up to one...

Sheema didn't have to wait long, before she was out of the alleyway a voice spoke up behind her.

"Hey Beautiful, got a minuet?" A deep, but raspy voice said behind her, she deliberately took a few more steps then turned slowly around.

"Where you addressing me?" She asked coolly, her eyes ranging over the man that had appeared....

He was young, early twenties, dirty from head to foot, dressed in a tattered tunic and pants, his teech were crooked and probably rotten. As he walked closer to her she saw the whites of his eyes seemed to consume his whole face, what she could see of the pupils darted back and forth, both for distrust, and from addiction.

"Hey Beautiful, wanna by some Death Sticks?" He asked, a crooked grin coming over his face, as he pulled a large bundle from his tunic pocket.

Sheema rolled her eyes, Death Sticks were the newest narcotic on the market, and seemed to have taken the underworld by storm.

As the man took another step forward, to show her the pale yellow sticks Sheema waved her hand in the air.

"You don't want to sell me Death Sticks." She said quietly, confidence surrounding her face. The man hesitated for a moment, then put the package back in his pocket, a pout on his face.