Soreya stepped through the towering doors of her mansion, the weight of the body in her arms shifting with each step. The mansion loomed behind her—an imposing structure of black obsidian and gold, its spires reaching toward the sky like jagged claws. The entire estate was a reflection of her—sharp, elegant, and unyielding. The walls inside gleamed with a cold, almost menacing beauty, the contrast of black and gold lending an air of opulence that almost felt out of place in the lawless world outside.

Tech, ever the careful observer, adjusted his glasses as he surveyed the scene. His eyes flicked from the datapad in his hands to the body Soreya carried. His face remained impassive, but his voice betrayed a slight reverence. "This is pure Mandalorian beskar, forged into black and gold," he said, his tone filled with awe.

Soreya smirked, a quiet, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she dropped the body onto a nearby table, her movements graceful but purposeful. "It sure is," she replied, her voice calm, almost nonchalant. "I had some Mandalorians work on it." Her gaze shifted slightly, looking at the intricate detailing of the armor that enveloped the body. The beskar was clearly crafted with meticulous care, and despite the formality of her words, there was a hint of pride in her voice.

Tech's eyes flicked to the body again, his mind working over the details. "Mandalorian craftsmanship is second to none," he said, slowly circling the body. "But the black and gold inlay... that's not traditional. What was the purpose behind this design?"

Soreya's smirk remained, but there was a darkness in her eyes that hinted at the layers of history that ran deeper than the armor. "A reminder," she said, her voice lowering slightly, "that everything in this galaxy can be shaped to a new purpose. Even the old ways." She ran a finger along the edge of the beskar, her touch gentle but purposeful, as if she could feel the weight of the ancient metal's legacy. "And when you want to leave your mark... sometimes you have to forge it in your own image."

Tech didn't reply right away, instead studying the armor with a mix of curiosity and respect. He understood the significance now—this wasn't just a piece of armor. It was a statement. And in Soreya's world, everything she wore, everything she crafted, was a carefully constructed part of her story.

Hunter's gaze remained wary as he watched Soreya, his instincts screaming to stay alert. "How did you bring us here, and why do you want our help?" he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Soreya paused, her fingers brushing the edge of a frame as she stopped beside a large portrait hanging on the wall. The painting depicted a Jedi Master—Master Plo Koon—with a clone in gray and white armor standing beside him. The figure's face was hard to read, but there was a sense of solemnity in the brushstrokes.

Echo, ever the detail-oriented one, flinched as he saw the painting. His voice, tinged with disbelief, broke the silence. "That's Commander Wolffe and Master Plo Koon," he said, his eyes wide. "Why do you have them on your wall?" His question hung in the air, full of confusion and something else—something more vulnerable.

Soreya smiled, but there was no humor in it. Her eyes softened as she traced a finger along the frame, her gaze distant. "They were my friends before they were pulled into that stupid Order 66," she said quietly, her voice carrying a weight that seemed to fill the room. A long, painful sigh escaped her lips. "I had this made in their honor." Her hand lingered on the image of the two figures, her expression thoughtful and faraway.

Hunter, still standing at the door, studied her carefully, trying to decipher her motives. He couldn't shake the feeling that Soreya knew more than she was letting on—about them, about their pasts. His instincts screamed that this woman was hiding something, but he was too tired to question her intentions just yet.

She turned toward him then, her gaze direct and unflinching. "And the reason I want to join you," Soreya continued, her voice gaining a slight edge of certainty, "is because I know you lost a brother."

The room fell into a tense silence, and the members of Clone Force 99 shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with the way Soreya seemed to know so much about them. Omega blinked in surprise, her head tilting slightly as she spoke up in a hesitant voice. "How do you know that?"

Soreya smiled at Omega, her demeanor softening just enough to appear approachable. She crouched slightly to meet Omega's eyes, her smile warm but enigmatic. "I have my ways, child," she said cryptically, her tone gentle yet filled with hidden knowledge. She then extended her hand toward Omega, who hesitated for a moment before accepting the gesture. Soreya's touch was firm, but not unkind. "I can show you," she added, looking back at Hunter. "If you allow me, of course."

Hunter exchanged a look with Tech, Wrecker, and Echo, all of them silently weighing the decision. They knew they couldn't afford to ignore any potential allies in this galaxy, especially one with as much knowledge and resources as Soreya. Echo, ever the pragmatist, let out a long sigh and finally broke the silence.

"We might as well get comfortable," Echo muttered, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly resigned to the situation. "I'm sure she has her reasons, even if they don't make sense right now."

Hunter nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Soreya. He wasn't convinced, not yet, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that this woman might be able to help them. They had already lost so much, and the idea of gaining another ally—one who knew their pain—was tempting. But as always, Hunter kept his guard up, unsure of where this alliance might lead.

SCENEBREAK

Soreya led the group of clones through the winding halls of her mansion, their footsteps echoing in the grand, empty corridors. The mansion seemed to stretch endlessly, a palace frozen in time, filled with whispers of its past. When they reached what should have been a grand ballroom, the sight that greeted them was anything but what they expected. The once-elegant room, with its high vaulted ceilings and intricate crystal chandeliers, was now transformed into something darker. The air was thick with mystery, and the walls were lined with ancient scrolls and artifacts, some glowing faintly with a soft, eerie light.

At the center of the room stood a massive cauldron, its surface warped with age and power. Surrounding it were more scrolls—runes etched into the air, glowing faintly with symbols that seemed both familiar and alien. The room felt like a nexus of forgotten knowledge, a place where time had lost its meaning. But what caught their attention more than anything else was the creature slithering around the cauldron, its movements unsettling and swift.

The creature hissed as they entered, its dark burgundy scales rippling with every movement, revealing a mint green underbelly that gleamed in the low light. Its eyes—tea green—glowed with an eerie intelligence, and its wing membranes were rust-colored, matching the webbing along its form. The creature's body coiled around the cauldron with predatory grace, and as soon as it noticed Soreya, it paused.

"At ease, Marigold," Soreya said, her voice calm but laced with an authority that the creature instantly recognized. She reached out, a gesture of comfort, and the creature's slithering slowed, its head dipping slightly as though acknowledging her presence. "These are my new friends, Clone Force 99."

The creature's gaze shifted to the clones, its eyes narrowing as it studied them with cold scrutiny. "You aren't supposed to bring people here now, are you?" it hissed, its tongue flicking in and out as it continued to circle the cauldron. "The last apprentice you had... you gutted him like a fish." There was a chilling bite in its words, a sharpness that cut through the air, making the clones tense up instinctively.

Soreya's expression didn't change. She had no need to react to the creature's comment—she was used to its tone by now, and the weight of her own actions spoke volumes. She lowered her hand slowly, letting her fingers brush the cauldron's surface. "That was a mistake," she said quietly, her voice filled with a certain heaviness. "One that I won't repeat." Her eyes met the creature's, and there was an understanding between them, an unspoken bond that spoke of ancient pacts and old blood.

The creature's gaze flickered back to the clones, its eyes narrowing as it hissed once more. "You're a Jedi, Soreya," it said, the words laced with disbelief. "Why bring clones here?"

The question hung in the air like a weight, and Soreya remained silent for a moment, the room holding its breath. The clones shifted uncomfortably, not quite understanding the depth of the exchange between Soreya and the creature.

Finally, Soreya spoke, her voice steady but filled with a quiet conviction. "I'm not just a Jedi anymore," she said softly. "And these clones... they've seen what the galaxy is capable of. I'm offering them something different. Something they've never had before." She turned her attention to the clones, her gaze softening for a moment. "They've lost their brothers. I can help them. But they need to see that there are more ways to fight back than just with a weapon."

The creature remained silent for a moment, its tongue flicking out again as it watched the clones, its expression unreadable. "A Jedi helping clones..." it muttered, more to itself than anyone else. "How quaint."

Soreya sighed, rolling her eyes. "Not everything is black and white, Marigold," she replied. "I'm not here to teach them the ways of the Jedi. I'm here to show them how to survive in a galaxy that's forgotten them."

The creature hissed again, but this time it was quieter, almost resigned. "Very well," it said, slithering back toward the cauldron, its body curling around it like a protective coil. "But don't say I didn't warn you, Soreya. The path you're walking is a dangerous one."

Soreya nodded, her gaze lingering on the creature before turning back to the clones. "I know," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "But it's the only path left."