The Marauder streaked through hyperspace, its engines humming with a steady rhythm. Inside the cockpit, Tech tapped away at the ship's controls, occasionally glancing at Omega, who sat across from him, turning a small comlink over in her hands. It was Crosshair's old device, worn but functional, the metal cool against her fingertips.

Tech adjusted his goggles and glanced at her. "You know, that's not a toy."

Omega looked up, wide-eyed, before her gaze flickered to Echo, who stood nearby with his arms crossed.

"Tech's right," Echo said, his voice calm but firm. "Comlinks are tools, not playthings. You'll need to use it if you're ever in trouble."

Omega gave a sheepish nod, cradling the device more carefully. "I'm not playing with it. I'm... learning."

Hunter entered the cockpit, catching the tail end of their conversation. "Good," he said, placing a hand on Omega's shoulder. "Because we need to stay sharp. Ord Mantell isn't the kind of place where you can afford to let your guard down."

Omega tilted her head. "Why are we going there? I thought we were supposed to stay hidden."

Hunter exchanged a glance with Echo before answering. "We need answers, Omega. Someone put a bounty on you, and we need to find out who."

Echo stepped forward. "I know someone who might be able to help—an informant named Cid. The Jedi trusted her during the war. If anyone knows about bounty hunters operating in the Outer Rim, it'll be her."

Wrecker leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed. "And you're sure we can trust this Scaleback?"

Echo shrugged. "We trusted her before."

Tech, ever the skeptic, adjusted his goggles. "The Jedi are dead. And trust is a luxury we don't have."

Echo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm open to better suggestions."

Omega, holding the comlink to her mouth, chimed in. "I think Echo's right. We don't have any other options."

The crew exchanged glances, and even Wrecker gave a begrudging nod. Omega grinned and lowered the comlink. "And I'm sorry," she added, "it's not a toy."

Tech let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

Omega shifted in her seat, gazing out through the viewport at the swirling blues of hyperspace. Her thoughts wandered, her brow furrowing. After a moment, she spoke softly, more to herself than anyone else.

"Do you think we'll find her?"

Echo's expression softened as he looked at her. "I hope so. Last we heard, she was on Serenno. But it's been a long time."

Hunter leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "We'll find her," he said with quiet certainty.

SCENEBREAKJ

The Marauder emerged from hyperspace above Ord Mantell, the dull planet rotating slowly beneath them. As they descended, the cityscape came into view—a sprawling, grimy metropolis, a patchwork of crumbling buildings and bustling markets. The ship glided toward an underground hangar, its engines whining as it touched down on the dusty landing pad.

The ramp lowered with a metallic groan, and the crew disembarked into the dimly lit hangar. Omega stuck close to Hunter, her eyes darting around, taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. The air smelled of oil and metal, tinged with the scent of something burning in the distance.

"Stay close," Hunter warned as they made their way through the crowded streets of Ord Mantell City. "And remember what we taught you. Don't trust anyone."

Omega nodded. "And if I get into trouble, I use my comlink."

Hunter gave her a small smile. "Good. Just make sure you don't need to use it."

SCENEBREAKJ

Echo led the way through the winding alleys, past stalls selling everything from blaster parts to exotic fruits. The deeper they went, the darker and quieter it became. Eventually, they reached a narrow staircase leading down to a subterranean cantina.

The air inside was thick with smoke and the low hum of conversations in a dozen different languages. Dim lights cast long shadows on the walls, and a band played a slow, mournful tune in the corner.

"Charming," Tech muttered as they entered.

"Stay alert," Echo said. "This is the kind of place where people disappear."

Hunter's eyes scanned the room, landing on a green-skinned Trandoshan behind the bar. Her scales glistened under the dim lights as she polished a glass with a rag. She glanced up as the group entered, her yellow eyes narrowing.

Hunter approached cautiously. "We're looking for someone. Goes by the name Scaleback."

The Trandoshan raised a brow ridge, her expression unreadable. "Never heard of 'em," she said in a gravelly voice. "And you're in the wrong place."

Hunter glanced at the two aliens fighting in the corner—a Weequay and an Ithorian, locked in a heated argument. "Maybe they've heard something."

The Trandoshan's gaze sharpened. "You don't want to get involved with them. Best to finish your drink and leave. Unless, of course, you're planning to spend some credits?"

Wrecker grumbled under his breath. "This plan stinks."

Echo frowned. "The Jedi trusted her during the war."

Tech leaned in. "And now the Jedi are dead. She could've fled or been arrested by now. Or maybe she violated so many health codes that—"

"She's right here," Omega said, her voice cutting through the conversation.

The crew turned to her in surprise.

Omega stepped forward, pointing directly at the Trandoshan bartender. "She's Scaleback."

The Trandoshan blinked, then let out a rasping laugh. "Well, well. Sharper than your friends, aren't you, kid?"

Hunter crossed his arms. "You've been hiding in plain sight."

Scaleback smirked, setting the glass down. "It's the best way to survive these days. Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

Hunter glanced at Echo. "Do you have any other informants?"

Echo shook his head. "Scaleback's the only one I knew how to find."

Wrecker sighed. "So, we came all this way for nothing?"

Omega lifted her chin. "We found her, didn't we?"

Scaleback leaned forward on the bar, eyeing the group. "Depends on what you're offering. Information isn't cheap."

Hunter locked eyes with her, his voice low. "Then let's talk."

The room fell silent, the tension thickening like a storm on the horizon.

SCENEBREAKJ

Sayuri moved gracefully through the cockpit, her fingers tapping across the control panel with practiced ease. The soft hum of the ship's systems filled the air as she adjusted their course, the stars outside blurring into the familiar streaks of hyperspace. Beside her, Anakin settled into the co-pilot's chair, his gaze flicking between the navigation console and her profile.

She wore her signature blindfold—a strip of silken fabric tied neatly over her eyes, concealing the luminous markings that had appeared on her face after her transformation. Yet even without sight, Sayuri maneuvered the ship as if guided by instinct alone.

The smell of chocolate lingered in the air, a faint trace from the small stash of rations she'd been nibbling on earlier. Anakin couldn't help but smirk at the scent—it was such a simple, human thing, something he rarely associated with her enigmatic presence. Yet here she was, munching on chocolate between hyperspace jumps.

He leaned back in the chair, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. There was something calming about being with her again, something grounding. It reminded him of simpler times—times before the war, before the darkness had crept into every corner of the galaxy.

Still, there was one question that lingered in his mind.

"So..." Anakin began, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the ship. "Why the delay? I thought we were headed straight for Ord Mantell." He crossed his arms, glancing at her sideways. "Everything seems fine to me. No sign of trouble. So why the detour?"

Sayuri didn't answer right away. Her hands hovered over the ship's controls, making small adjustments to their trajectory. She seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed slightly beneath the blindfold.

Finally, she sighed, turning her head in his direction. "There's something about Ord Mantell that doesn't sit right with me," she admitted softly. "I've been feeling... ripples. The Force is restless there. Like something is waiting."

Anakin frowned, leaning forward. "You think it's a trap?"

"Possibly," Sayuri said, her tone measured. "Or maybe it's just my own paranoia. After everything we've been through, can you blame me?"

Anakin shook his head. "No. I get it." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "The galaxy's a mess. We've both seen it. But if there's a chance that someone there can help us bring down the Empire, isn't it worth the risk?"

Sayuri's lips curved into a small smile. "That sounds like the Anakin I remember—the one who would take on the whole galaxy if it meant saving someone he cared about."

He chuckled softly, a sound that felt foreign to him after so long. "Maybe I'm still that person. Maybe I'm trying to find him again."

Her expression softened. "Then let's find him together."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the stars outside their ship stretching endlessly into the unknown.

After a beat, Anakin cleared his throat, glancing toward the stash of chocolate she had left on the console. "So... are you going to share, or am I supposed to just sit here and starve?"

Sayuri laughed—a rare, genuine laugh that filled the cockpit with warmth. She picked up the small bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece and handing it to him.

"Here," she said, her voice light with amusement. "I wouldn't want the Chosen One to faint from hunger."

Anakin grinned, taking the chocolate from her fingers. "Thanks. But you know, I never pegged you for the type to snack on sweets."

Sayuri shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "Even Jedi have their vices."

Anakin raised an eyebrow, popping the chocolate into his mouth. "You're not exactly a Jedi anymore."

Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "No... I suppose I'm not."

The ship gave a small lurch as it adjusted course, the coordinates for Ord Mantell glowing on the screen before them. The journey wasn't over yet. The galaxy was still broken, and there was a long road ahead.

But for now, they were together. And that was enough.