Faron is one of the twin cities on Nancora alongside Axio, breaking up the planet's scarred surface with their presence. Originally existing in the form of underground shelters, the city was built up slowly—layer by layer—until it became a metropolis so large that it can be clearly seen from orbit. In order to maintain an organized infrastructure, the city itself is separated into districts based on the disc-like, concentric blocks that make up its design.

The outer district is the largest of these. Here, the buildings form alleys and streets that criss-cross as they either run straight towards the center of Faron or curve along its circumference. The complexes found here are almost mathematical in design. Towers built upon towers, they all link together like geometric puzzle pieces with harsh lines and angles in lieu of softer edges. Having to deal with the elements, the durasteel constructs appear weathered and worn, but maintain a bright coloring to reflect as much light as possible and reduce its thermal conversion.

Industry thrives in Faron, and its districts embody this. In the outer district, shops meet with living centers and the lines between them blur. An apartment cluster appears much the same as a grand complex containing a myriad of speeders or other such technological constructions. Power relays, the key to keeping the city functioning in its entirely, are staggered along the streets and each level. Through redundancy, the system prevents the loss of a single relay from crippling it. The citizens flood the district at ground level, marching with haste towards their destinations while the skylanes flicker with activity high above.

In Faron's outer district, the thriving metropolis can be seen in all its many facets, but also at its most vulnerable.

Faron had seen better days. Not good days, necessarily—the city had grown with all of the planning and charm of a fungal infection, and had always looked about as pretty—but it was obvious even to the newcomers that war had left its mark. As they picked their way through the shattered remnants of an industrial sector, the Odanites couldn’t help but be reminded of the destruction that had preceded them. It was rare to find a walkway that didn’t threaten to drop them to a bloody death, and every centimeter of corroded metal was covered with a fine layer of ash and dust kicked up by repeated orbital bombardments.

The Mandalorian was unfazed. Luna Okami was rarely impressed by any environment which did not put her in constant mortal danger. With the Collective largely routed from this part of Nancora and the planet’s temperature extremes mellowed by the setting sun, Faron did not rise to the occasion. She picked through the smoldering ruins with a matter-of-factness born of decades living under the Resol’nare, her face invisible beneath the azure beskar helmet that marked her as a true Okami. The Zeltron dejectedly plodding along behind her was attempting to project the same measured indifference, but that was difficult to pull off without messing up his cape.

The pair had lingered on Nancora as Odanite forces began to make their retreat from the planet. Luna kept the field hospital running with spartan efficiency, while Teikhos loitered around to keep tabs on the padawans and hit on Luna’s nursing staff. As the Mandalorian was in the process of dragging the Jedi out of her recovery ward by the ear, reports had come in that some commando from one of the Collective factions had been picking off stragglers during the retreat, taking down troops with non-lethal shots and forcing their comrades to choose between loyalty and remaining behind cover. Now, two hours later, the unlikely pair was tromping through the battlefield in search of justice.

A flash of blue plasma sliced through the warped tangle of fallen walkway that blocked the path in front of them. “After you, fair maiden,” Teikhos said with a grin and a slight bow.

Luna brushed past him. “I am neither of those things, mir’shupur.”

“You keep calling me that. What does it mean? Handsome? Charming?”

Luna grunted. “Brain injury.”

“Because I cause swooning?” Teikhos grinned, unconsciously striking a pose.

“Because you act like you have one.”

“That’s not very nice, Luna,” the Jedi chided. “I thought we were friends.”

“Hush,” the woman ordered, her tone brooking no argument. “In the distance. Did you see that?”

As the Zeltron squinted into the evening light, trying to make out what his companion was pointing at, a blaster bolt hurled toward them. The Mandalorian threw herself to the side, only to see the bolt slam into a translucent shell of force.

“Nope. Was it a bird?” Teikhos squinted into the setting sun.

“Aren’t you supposed to notice these things through the Force?” she hissed.

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

“Mir’shupur! Get down!” the woman grunted, sweeping the Jedi’s feet out from under him with a swift kick.

“Ow!” Teikhos yelped as he landed butt-first in a pile of debris.

“Don’t you have sense enough to take cover when someone is shooting at you?”

“Oh, Luna,” the Zeltron chided, squirming to untangle himself from his cape. Freed from the oppression of well-tailored, high thread count fabric, Teikhos got to his feet and rose to his full height. His lightsaber snapped to life, dancing up to slap away a pair of blaster bolts careening towards his head. “I am the cover.”

His cape settled around him, giving the Zeltron the imposing profile of a knight steeled for battle. The look would have been substantially more impressive if not for the patch of grime on his cape, centered around his rump.

Luna ignored his bravado as her eyes scanned the field for the enemy. The recent shots had come from a slightly different angle; either the shooter was moving or there were two of them. “It is good to know you can do something other than disrespect women.”

“I never disrespect women!”

“You were bumbling around my hospital, asking my medics if they would like a ‘physical exam.’”

The indignant Zeltron huffed. “And I’ve got two appointments for tonight, no thanks to you.” The Human rolled her eyes. “Can you sense the enemy or not?”

Teikhos skewed up his face for a moment before answering. “Just the one. Thirtyish meters away, maybe ten degrees west of due north?” The Zeltron’s tone grew a bit more somber. “Luna, she is really not happy to see us.”

“Yes, Jedi. That is generally why people shoot at you,” the Okami explained slowly, as if to a child. Teikhos liked to tell himself that was what passed for Mandalorian humor. “I will flank from the west. You will stand here and make a fool of yourself while the shooter tries to kill you. Is that clear?”

“As you wish milady,” the Jedi replied with a slight bow as a blaster bolt whizzed by.

Luna merely shook her head as she turned to dart toward the cover of a nearby collapsed factory. Urban areas, especially ones like Faron City were painful to the Okami’s eyes. Everything here was the color of rust and even with the industrial structures of the area silent or in rubble, the place still reeked of exhaust and soot. There were no trees, no wildlife, no breeze to carry a scent, places like this hurt Luna’s soul. But she was Mando’a and thus was prepared to fight wherever her clan required it. Someone, or a group of someones, was attacking her extended family of Clan Odan-Urr in the most dishonorable method possible. War was war, and the older Mandalorian could respect a worthy adversary, but to wound an opponent and murder their comrades when they came to their aid was cowardly.

The wolf-mother’s anger grew with each step she took toward the sniper’s last known position. She heard the occasional pot-shot of blaster fire deflected by Teikhos as she shifted from cover to cover with trained precision. She drew her own blaster pistol and had her bo-rifle extended in electrostaff mode slung to her side.

Good, now keep the shooter’s attention, Luna thought as she leaned out from a mostly intact door frame to spy the sniper’s location. She was across what had been a street from the building where the sniper was firing from. The Mandalorian prepared to sprint across the street when she noticed a seeker droid floating in front of the office building the sniper occupied. The droid happened to be floating around the second story, an easy shot from her position. Luna calculated her best option was to quickly destroy the droid and rush the sniper’s window on the fourth floor with a targeted burst of her jetpack.

Taking a deep breath, the Okami stepped out of the doorway, took aim with her pistol and fired a single round. The shot found its mark on the seeker’s chassis and the droid spiraled to the ground emitting smoke.

So far so good. Luna lowered her pistol and assumed a wide stance as she shifted her torso to aim her projected flight path closest to the sniper perch. She was just about to trigger her jetpack when she noticed a female Chiss in a crimson red breastplate and cloth outfit reiminesent of the Nightsisters of Dathomir emerge from the ground floor of the office building. Luna reflexively raised her blaster pistol toward the new assailant but was too slow, the Chiss darted to the side and struck at Luna’s right hand with a whip. The Okami jerked to avoid the attack but it was not enough, the whip wrapped around her wrist and disrupted her aim with a sharp tug from the female assailant. “You’ll pay for destroying my droid Jedi scum!” the crimson-clad Chiss exclaimed as she flicked a switch on the whip. An electrical current flowed through the whip and into Luna’s arm, forcing her to drop to her knees from the pain and drop her blaster.

The Chiss recalled her whip with a practiced movement of her wrist, then began moving in a large circle around the stunned Mandalorian like a manka cat stalking its prey.

Luna took advantage of her opponent’s bravado to stand up and ready her bo-rifle, activating its electrified ends with a challenging flourish. “I am no Jedi hut'uun,” she stated confidently as she stared directly into her opponent’s mechanical eye from behind her own helmet.

“It matters not, you fight for them and you will die a traitor to your own kind. No one else escapes the Shikari and lives.” The Chiss punctuated her sentence by cracking her electrowhip on the ground beside her.

The mention of the Shikari sparked recognition in Luna’s mind, this was Kendra Icasta the huntresses’ leader. Her icy eyes darted around the street for possible escape routes and terrain she could use to her advantage. The logical part of her brain told her she’d need Teikhos’ help but Kendra had crossed a line by attacking her comrades in such a cowardly manner and calling Luna a traitor. The mother wolf would protect her pack from this threat.

Huh, Teikhos thought. The blaster fire stopped. That’s good. Luna should be checking in any second now.

The Zeltron deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt, wincing as he noticed the dust and grime besieging his clothes. “Ugh! Nancora can eat a—”

A fresh eruption of blaster fire cut the thought short.

Oh. Ok. Well then. The Jedi absentmindedly ran his gloved fingers through his hair, flinching halfway through when he remembered how filthy his hand had been.

“Screw it,” he grunted, and started as quickly as he could towards the building. They're not aiming at me, which is refreshing. Luna’s probably not dead yet. That’s good. But… wait, why is there green smoke? Smoke’s not supposed to be green. Wait, kriff, is that dioxi—

The Jedi flinched at the sound of an explosion, ducking behind his cape to as it flung bits of glass and shrapnel out towards him.

That… escalated quickly. It’s probably going to work out fine. Maybe just a bit not good. At worst. I hope.

---

Luna groaned, blinking the stars from her eyes as she sat up. It took a second for her to recognize the problem for what it was. Swearing under her breath, she yanked the helmet off her head. The visor was nearly blacked out. It, the rest of helmet, and for that matter the rest of everything had a thick chalky coating of it. Some chemical fire suppressant, Luna thought.

The Mandalorian glanced around, quickly taking stock of the situation. Ever more dust and ash filled the air, swirling around what had become the ruins of ruins. But at least her bo-rifle was on the floor a mere meter away, apparently undamaged. The sight jerked her back to full awareness: she’d found Kendra Icasta. Luna had rolled to one side, drawing her rifle. The pair had opened fire on each other. Luna was pinned behind… a column, perhaps, but some form of cover. She had tossed the dioxis grenade out, expecting it to force her enemy into the open. Instead…

“A thermal detonator,” Luna said to herself with some disgust. The Okami struggled to her feet, just now feeling the mixed effects of age and recent exposure to a high explosive. Still, the column had spared her the brunt of the blast.

The air was clear. Luna wasn’t sure if the heat from a detonator would have affected the dioxis, but if nothing else the remnants of the fire suppression system would have neutralized whatever the shockwave didn’t force out of the room. The Human figured that she couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds. The mir’shupur was a prancing moron, but he was still a Jedi, and he would not have left her in the field to rot.

“Come out, coward!” the Okami challenged. “I call you to answer for your crimes.”

The telltale hum of an electrowhip powering up was the only answer. Luna turned in the direction of the noise. Kenda Icasta was… well, Luna hoped that the Chiss felt as bad as she looked.

The Shikari was a mottled patchwork of colors. Bare blue skin, red armor, red blood, white fire suppressant, and gray ash mingled in a wretched kaleidoscope. Unfortunately, the damage seemed limited to superficial cuts and scrapes.

“What, your armor could not protect you?” the Mandalorian asked with a smirk.

“Yours won’t do much better,” Kendra snorted. “You’re a traitor to your kind, and I’ll be keeping your helmet as my personal latrine until I kill all your Jedi friends.”

Luna slipped a dagger from its customary place in her armor and settled into a ready stance, arms bent out in front of her, body low and leaning forward like a coiled serpent waiting to strike. “You will try, child.”

And then the bo-rifle hurled itself butt-first up from the floor and slammed into the Chiss’ leg hard enough to sweep her off her feet.

“Whoops! Sorry, was trying to pass that back to Luna,” Teikhos said, casually leaning against a now-doorless door frame. “My bad.”

“Jedi,” Kendra hissed, scrambling back from the Mandalorian as she tried to pull herself but to her feet.

“Yep, that’s why I’ve got the lightsaber. So I’ve got prior engagements tonight, but I thought ‘A gentleman always has time to walk a pretty lady back to the brig.’ So what do you say, cutie? Want to make a date of it?”

"Teikhos." Luna's voice was grave.

The Zeltron beamed. "We're on a first name basis now?"

"This one was not the shooter."

"Wait, wha-kark!" was all the Jedi managed to blurt out as he hurled himself to one side, the Force screaming at him to fling himself to one side. It was fast enough to ruin the killing shot, but not fast enough to spare him the painful experience of a blaster bolt to the shoulder.

The impact of the shot caught Teikhos mid-dive causing his body to rotate and land on his back instead of his side. When the warning came through the Force, the Zeltron had instinctively dove left but not fast enough, exposing his right shoulder to the blaster bolt. Once on the ground he reflexively reached up to his injured shoulder with his free hand.

“Damn!” the Jedi exclaimed through clenched teeth as he struggled to call upon the Force to help block out the pain.

Luna spared a quick glance over to her injured comrade and thanked the spirits that the foolish Zeltron had only sustained a minor wound, albeit a painful one. He was also fortunate to have fallen into the doorframe which provided some measure of concealment from the sniper. Making a split-second decision, the Mandalorian dove for her bo-rifle which thanks to Teikhos’ showboating had flown in her general direction. Scooping up the weapon as she landed, Luna rolled onto her belly, readied the rifle and desperately fired a volley of unaimed blaster bolts toward her Chiss opponent.

Kendra, having made it to her feet by this point, had little choice but to duck and fall back behind another pillar to avoid the suppressive fire. She readied her whip in one hand and a smoke grenade in the other. The traitor human had wisely remained in a prone position, ready to fill the Chiss with blaster bolts if she tried to leave the safety of cover. Kendra knew the Jedi was the more substantial threat if allowed to recover; time was not on her side. She popped the pin and rolled the smoke grenade toward the human female and waited for the familiar hiss of the pyrotechnic device releasing the obscuring smoke.

“She’s trying to escape,” Luna cried out as she rose to her feet and tried to follow the hum of the electro-whip through the smoke.

“No, she’s NOT!” Teikhos nearly shrieked as a reflexively conjured barrier of translucent Force energy is the only thing that stood between him and the raging Chiss lashing at the invisible wall with her whip.

Luna had no visibility of the ongoing assault save a few flashes of light peeking through the smoke as the electrified whip struck a barrier of pure energy. With practiced ease she converted her bo-staff into staff mode and charged at her opponent, activating the staff as she ran. A primal aggression washing over her at the prospect of a member of her pack in jeopardy.

Kendra turned toward her human opponent and cracked the whip in Luna’s direction with a flick of her wrist. The Okami reacted quickly enough to bring the charged tip of her staff to bear, deflecting the electrified metal wire with a shower of sparks. Luckily for her, the Mandalorian had closed enough of the distance that she was able to see the attack in enough time to defend against it.

The cybernetically enhanced Chiss back up with her whip like a cornered animal as Teikhos rose to his feet to join his Okami comrade.

“What are you waiting for? Take the shot!” Kendra hissed as if her Collective comrade in the sniper nest could hear her. The Shikari’s assault had lured both her Odanite opponents into the open.

Almost on cue a series of shots rang out toward Luna, but Teikhos had refocused his concentration into the flows of the Force and extended his barrier to protect both of them. The blasts struck the transparent bubble harmlessly.

Seizing the moment provided by the Jedi’s feat of Force usage, Luna charged Kendra with her bo-rifle still blazing in staff mode. The Chiss reflexively tried to counter with her electro-whip but the shock of the sniper rounds not finding their marked had delayed her reaction to the Okami’s assault. The bo-rifle found it’s target in Kendra’s stomach and she collapsed as untold volts of electricity ran through her body seizing up her muscles. Still, under the protection of her comrade’s barrier, Luna struck the Chiss a second time while she was on the ground to ensure she was truly incapacitated.

Luna looked up toward the sniper window and noticed smoke emanating from it. The sniper had changed position or attempted to escape not wanting to take on a Jedi and a Mandalorian without backup.

“The sniper has fled,” the Okami announced with disappointment as she caught her breath.

“But look what we caught,” Teikhos announced with a small amount of pride as he let his barrier collapse. “I know some spooks who’d love an evening with this particular lady.”

“Help me move her behind cover and call command.”

“Yes ma’am,” the Zeltron replied as he assisted Luna in moving Kendra’s unconscious form into a less exposed location using only his uninjured arm.

The pair fashioned a makeshift restraint by tying up the Huntress with her own deactivated whip. Luna did not have her usual medical equipment on hand but treated Teikhos’ blaster wound as best she could.

“You fought well for a Mir’shupur,” Luna quipped as she stood up to check on their prisoner.

“From you, that’s high praise. You’re very welcome milady.”