Private Business of Quiet Places

[CT-312]

//: Sidonia //:
//: Attire //:

It had been some time since CT-312 last traveled through the Kastolar Sector. With the disappearance of the Black Sun’s influence across several of their former holdings, routine inspections and maintaining order had quietly fallen to those who had once operated within its shadow. One of those acquisitions was the spa and resort on Skull Ridge Mountain. Originally secured under the Black Sun’s interests by members of the DeathDrop, the property had since become something else.

The weather however… had not changed.

Snow still blanked the jagged slopes of the mountain. Steadily, its flurries drifted lazily across the landing platforms outside and the main structure itself. The wind carried thin sheets of powder into small drifts along the edges of the durasteel walkways and railings. Even through camouflaged plating, the Halcyon suit’s regulated climate systems, CT-312 could feel the ambient cold pressing against as she stepped out onto the upper balcony looking over the port.

Letting out a slow breath, the sound faint against the systems running inside her helmet. The cold was familiar. CT-312 couldn’t be too disgruntled by the environment. It had been a while since she had operated in frigid terrains. Recalling the first handful of deployments that were assigned had taken place across frozen wastelands and glacial worlds. The freezing temperatures were just as dangerous as the enemy if one was careless. Yet, while the mountain itself remained unchanged, the resort on top of it had evolved considerably.

From the elevated overlook, CT-312 surveyed the facility as ships came and went from the expanded landing platforms. Bustling with far more activity, new docking ports extended outward from the mountain’s structure. A steady stream of vessels to arrive and depart without congestion. What had once begun as a quiet foothold for the elite in a remote sector had since grown into something far more profitable. An independent refuge for all sorts, tucked away in one of the frozen parts of the galaxy. A good location for profit and for others, avenues of gain.

“Status reports for this branch and the others.” CT-312’s gaze moved across the port one final time. “Run a perimeter check.” BARCA responded immediately with a soft acknowledgment of a chime inside her helmet.

Across the snowy plains surrounding the resort complex, multiple packs of War-X and Pred-X battle droids patrolled. Their mechanical frames moved methodically through the white landscape. Securing the perimeter from any unauthorized arrivals or suspicious activity. Satisfied for the moment, CT-312 turned to begin her walk through of the interior concourse.

Warm air replaced the cold bite from outside as the doors slid open. Inside, the resort carried a low constant hum of activity. Conversations blended with distant music and the occasional hiss of steam venting from the spa levels deeper within the structure. CT-312 had only made it part way through the internal port concourse when—

CRASH. A sudden sound echoed loudly through the docking ports. The Scout slowed, turning her helmet slightly toward the source. Near one of the docking checkpoints, a pair of newly arrived patrons were causing a scene. Two massive Houks towered over the port attendant who was attempting to reason with them. Their broad shouldered and muscular frames were difficult to ignore as they pushed aggressively through the crowd. “YOUR DOCKING FEES!” The attendant shouted desperately as he stumbled after them. “YOU HAVEN’T PAID OR REGISTERED!” The Houks ignored him, one shoving the attendant aside when attempted to be blocked. Sending the man stumbling back against a nearby cargo container. The crowd around them shifted uneasily. Some muttered irritation while others stepped out of the Houks’ way.

BARCA’s text began scrolling across CT-312’s HUD. It already had tapped into the attendant’s datapad, displaying the transaction records and docking logs. Lines of text summarized the situation as multiple security feeds from different angles showed the confrontation. BARCA flagged the interaction as a potential escalation. The alert pulsed in red.

[ BARCA ]
[ Recommendation — Immediate Intervention. ]

“No.” CT-312 answered in an indifferent tone. “Let’s see how it’s handled.”

The Houks continued deeper into the facility, forcing their way through while shouting back. Soon, a pair of security droids intercepted the two. The machines approached cautiously, issuing standard warnings and requesting compliance. It was answered with blaster fire from the Houks. One of the droid’s chest plating exploded outward in sparks as the other barely had time to react before another burst of reckless shots shredded its torso. Blaster bolts ricocheted wildly off the durasteel columns. One shot passed dangerously close to a group of nearby guests.

Instantly the atmosphere changed. Some scattered for cover behind kiosks and furniture. Others stepped back. While a few reached for concealed weapons hidden beneath coats and robes. PING. PING. BARCA’s notification alerts became sharper. “I suppose.”

[ BARCA ]
[ Facility Policy Reminder: Weapons prohibited within neutral zones unless authorized personnel. ]

The notification pulsed repeatedly across CT-312’s visor as the pings and beeps grew more insistent. “Fine.” Letting out a quiet slow exhale of mild annoyance. The Scout altered course. Peeling away from behind the Houks, moving away down a side corridor that cut toward the spa wing. The noise of raised voices soon echoed again, ahead of CT-312 as the Houks arrived at the reception desk of the spa itself. Shouting demands. “Free use.” One of them yelled loudly. “We just came from off-world.” As the receptionist attempted to maintain composure while explaining the terms of entry, the Houks spoke over with increasingly aggressive demands for free access to the facilities. “COMPLIMENTARY. What PART of that do you not UNDERSTAND?”

CT-312 approached from behind. Her boots remained silent against the polished floor. A gloved hand slid quietly to the back of her belt. “Pardon me.” Her voice carried just loud enough to draw their attention. As one of the Houks turned, CT-312 stepped within arm’s reach. The towering frame looked down at the armored Scout standing behind him. Recognition flashed across his face—

—then confusion. His eyes widened. Shhhnnnkk. A blade slid cleanly into his abdomen. Muscles bulged beneath the Houk's thick hide as massive hands clamped down around CT-312’s wrist in an attempt to overpower and force the weapon away. The Halcyon armor and undersuit did not so much even creak under the pressure. CT-312 stepped forward again. The blade plunged deeper. “You are—” then twisted. The Houk's breath escaped him in a choking gasp, knees buckling then slamming into the floor. Beside the Houk's head, a whisper emitted from the CT-312 helmet’s voice modulator. “—disturbing the other guests.” His mouth opened and closed, trying to breathe.

Behind her, heavy mechanical footsteps from additional security droids approached. The second Houk turned around at the odd silence of his partner. Reacting to the scene in front of him, he raised his blaster toward the Scout. CT-312’s hand snapped upward. Another throwing knife left her grip and struck the Houk’s shoulder. Embedding itself directly into the joint where his weapon arm lifted. The blaster discharged harmlessly into the ceiling as pain shot through him. Panic began replacing his angry expression. He ran. Shoving through crowd into a hallway and disappearing deeper into the spa wing.

Leaving the blade in first Houk, “Take this one outside.” The security droids complied, seizing the collapsed Houk by his arms. Dragging his massive body toward the exit. CT-312 tracked the fleeing Houk. It wasn’t difficult. Following the disturbance of the crowds and BARCA flashed security images from feeds. The trail led through a set of doors and into one of the private spa chambers that housed hot springs.

As CT-312 entered in, thick humid air rolled across her visor. Clouds of heated steam drifted between the spring pools and stone seating areas, obscuring most of the room. Her HUD compensated immediately. Thermal filters activated. One large heat signature moved further inside, but another signal appeared as well. A second figure. Unknown.

It seems the private spa had been occupied.

 

[Sidonia]

Steam drifted through the private hot spring chamber, curling across carved stone pools and polished walkways. Lanterns recessed into the walls cast a warm amber glow through the haze, turning the room into a blur of soft light and mist. The springs bubbled quietly beneath the enclosed ceiling, their mineral scent lingering in the humid air.

Outside, the mountain was frozen solid beneath the high winds of Skull Ridge. Inside the room, however, the air held the warmth of summer.

One of the deeper pools was occupied.

Sidonia rested against the curved stone edge, the water rising just below her collarbones. Pale blue hair clung damply to her shoulders, trailing down her back into the spring behind her. One arm lay draped along the rim while slow currents rippled outward from where she had shifted moments earlier.

For several quiet minutes the chamber had been still.

The resort itself had once belonged to Black Sun, one of many quiet holdings scattered across the Outer Rim. When the syndicate’s influence fractured, assets like this began surfacing—places that could be acquired quietly by those paying attention. Crimson Dawn had noticed quickly enough.

Neutral resorts attracted merchants, smugglers, aristocrats, and mercenaries alike. Credits flowed easily in places where powerful people preferred discretion, and secrets often followed. That alone made locations like this valuable.

Sidonia had come to inspect the acquisition personally. For the moment, however, she had chosen patience over business.

The quiet broke with the distant echo of shouting somewhere beyond the spa corridors. A heavy crash followed, then the sharp crack of a blaster discharge reverberating faintly through the stone walls. Sidonia opened her eyes slowly, her expression unchanged as she listened.

Trouble in a place like this was inevitable. Neutral ground attracted individuals who believed rules were suggestions rather than boundaries. Normally the resort’s security handled such disruptions.

Normally.

Heavy footsteps pounded closer through the adjoining corridor. Something slammed against the outer wall hard enough to rattle the chamber doors before they burst inward with a violent crash.

The Houk staggered through the entrance, his massive shoulders scraping the stone frame as he forced his way inside. Blood ran freely down his arm, dripping from the knife lodged deep in his shoulder. Each movement sent another dark pulse down his sleeve to the polished floor below.

His breathing was ragged as he lurched forward, blaster clenched tightly in his good hand while he tried to see through the drifting steam.

“Stupid place…” he muttered under his breath, scanning the room for somewhere to hide. The humidity reduced much of the room to vague silhouettes across the pools. For several seconds he failed to notice the figure sitting quietly within the nearest spring.

A small splash disturbed the water. The Houk froze, turning slowly toward the sound as the steam parted just enough for him to see her.

Sidonia sat calmly within the pool, watching him with pale blue eyes that showed neither surprise nor concern. For a moment the stranger simply stared, confusion flickering across his broad features before irritation replaced it.

“Out of the water,” he growled hoarsely, raising the blaster with his uninjured arm. His wounded shoulder trembled slightly as he aimed. “Now.”

Sidonia did not answer. Instead, she rose from the spring.

Water cascaded from her as she stepped over the edge of the pool onto the stone floor. Steam moved around her as it met the cooler air, revealing the long scabbard resting beside the basin. Her hand closed around the hilt with quiet familiarity, drawing the katana free in a smooth, practiced motion.

The Houk fired. The blaster bolt cut through the steam in a bright flash of red, but Sidonia stepped aside before it reached her. The shot passed behind her shoulder and dissipated against the far wall.

Her blade moved once.

For a moment the Houk didn’t react. Then the blaster slipped from his grip as his severed hand struck the floor beside it with a wet slap. A scream tore from his throat as he staggered backward, clutching the bleeding stump while blood splattered across the polished stone.

His massive body crashed into one of the benches lining the chamber, sending it skidding across the floor. Sidonia watched him with mild curiosity.

“You people always believe brute force solves everything,” she said calmly. The Houk roared in rage and lunged toward her, swinging his remaining arm in a desperate attempt to grab her throat. Sidonia stepped inside the attack before the strike could land.

The katana moved again, t blade cut deep across his abdomen, stopping him instantly as the force of the blow drove the air from his lungs. His enormous frame folded forward, collapsing to his knees in front of her.

Sidonia stood over him, the sword angled downward as blood slid along its edge. “You should have kept running,” she said quietly. The Houk tried to breathe, but only a wet gasp escaped his throat. Sidonia lifted the tip of the blade beneath his chin, forcing his head upward until their eyes met.

“Running only works,” she continued softly, “when the person behind you is slower.”

The final cut was swift. The Houk collapsed forward, his body striking the floor beside the steaming pool as blood spread slowly across the stone.

Silence returned to the chamber.

Steam drifted once more through the humid air while the springs bubbled quietly behind her. Sidonia remained standing beside the corpse, the katana loose in her hand as the last droplets of blood slid from its edge. The doors opened again with a soft mechanical hiss.

An armored figure stepped inside.

Sidonia did not look surprised; if anything, she appeared faintly amused. She walked to a nearby bench where a folded towel rested and wiped the blade clean with slow, deliberate movement before returning the katana to its scabbard. Only then did she turn to face the armored scout fully.

“Your fugitive came through here,” Sidonia said evenly, nodding toward the Houk’s corpse. Her eyes lingered briefly on the body before returning to the Mandalorian helmet. “He appeared to be in a hurry.” A faint smile touched the corner of her lips as steam drifted between them. “But judging by the outcome," she continued, gesturing lightly toward the dead Houk, “I suspect he wasn’t the real problem you came for.”

Her pale blue eyes studied the armored figure with quiet interest. “So tell me,” she said softly, “who were you really chasing?”

​

CT-312​