Chrome Dome
"It's easy to glorify the art of gathering history, but sometimes one needs to get their hands dirty in the pursuit of knowledge."
Zel sat atop a sand dune of great size, looking over the ruins of a star destroyer from a goon 900 or so years ago. It was the target of his latest archaeological ambitions. It was also, like many old ruins, swarming with criminals that decided to make it their home. Without the jurisdiction of the Galactic Alliance to keep the vultures at bay, their various illegal operations became housed in this very place. The Mandalorian scribe spoke into his recording device, clutched in his hand. He of course had to document the process of recovering the site.
"It seems a gang of scavengers has moved into the ancient star destroyer," he observed, making sure the camera mounted on his helmet got a good look at them. "Their supplies look newer, stolen perhaps? Raiders are not uncommon in these parts. This is, of course, not an isolated incident for archaeological ruins. When you don't have the talent to build a place of your own, and many who turn to this sort of crime are rather talentless, an abandoned structure makes a great temporary base. For one like myself seeking knowledge, the only way to make progress is to settle things in the ways of my ancestors. While I could probably take them, given the caliber of my armor and training of my creed, I foresee such an effort being quite the slog. So I've found a mercenary and provided them with payment to speed up the process. Just so that I have full documentation of the previous raider presence in this space, the operation will be documented in full from my perspective. End log."
As he put away his recording device, he made note of a loose patrol structure. Rather disorganized, but that wasn't a shock. Most of them were set up under a tarp, and a few guarded the entrance into the Star Destroyer. Given the stacks of empty crates, it seemed that they had just gotten a supply of something and were taking inventory. Maybe consolidating to make room for more on the way.
It hardly mattered to Zel either way.
"Right then," he exhaled behind his helmet. "Miss Jessen, was it? I'm not particularly pressed in the manner we slice this pie, so you can consider this one a sweep to clean the premises. If this place is to be safe enough to study, I imagine the lot of the ruffians should be removed."
Simple enough.