Private We've been expecting you, Mr Maji

[Saone Nola-bay]

Renovated Hutt Palace - Vo Dasha, a moon orbiting the planet Taboon - Yuri Maji

Saone overlooked the poor air quality in his warehouse, concentrating on the silver filigree alignment on the High Republic naval document beneath the micro-welder. If it was even a millimeter off to the left, security scanners at any mid-rim checkpoint would instantly identify it as a forgery. He didn't dedicate 18 years to the Trade Federation to be seen as anything less than the best in this field.

His confidence might have been unfounded, yet no one in law enforcement had succeeded in locating him, at least not yet in this unpleasant part of space. He preferred it that way, as his tan lekku twitched slightly, an involuntary response while he adjusted the magnifying visor over his eyes to look for mistakes. His client was a young Pantoran who had more credits than common sense, eager to be officially recognized as a junior lieutenant in the High Republic Fleet.

Not for smuggling, but to impress his girlfriend. The Twi'lek had not laughed when the kid revealed his plan, especially since the kid had already placed a sack of pristine peggats on the worn workbench. The sheer absurdity of risking a lifetime in a grim prison just for a second date still made him uneasy.

Although he kept these thoughts to himself, he charged a premium for the hassle of replicating the unique triple-layered holographic watermark of a military branch that kept detailed records. Saone pressed a button on his terminal, watching the cold blue light of the screen shine on his hands as the machine began curing the synthetic polymer.

A drop of sweat ran down his brow, and he wiped it away with the back of his sleeve, keeping his eyes on the microscopic alignment grid. He only needed to add the digital signature of an Admiral who had retired three years prior, ideal, since retired officers seldom checked active personnel records.

His girlfriend would likely catch on to the deception as soon as she realized her heroic lieutenant couldn't even operate a standard cargo skiff without damaging the docking clamps but he trusted the Pantoran to have quick thinking. He reached for his chamois cloth, prepared to smooth out the rough spots on the card, when the sudden hiss of the shop's pressure door broke the silence.

The heavy security door slid up with a scraping sound, allowing a rush of cold palace air to enter and casting a long shadow over the work table. It was none other than his second client Yuri Maji , the rumored son of the Old Mandalorian Wardog but he didn't quite believe it. ​

 

[Yuri Maji]

With the state of the galaxy, moving around with his business was getting increasingly difficult. To make matters worse, his old permits were beginning to slip. Obviously they weren't legit, but that was beside the point. He needed updated stuff if he was going to run weapons into sovereign territories. It was a small miracle that he caught wind of an apparent savant with exactly this kind of business.

An appointment was made and the Hound hopped into Maybelle to speed off to a forgotten backwater he had only heard about a handful of times. He was naturally concerned about how good this guy really was if he was hiding there, but one look at the precise location helped to put his mind at ease. Maybelle touched down on the landing pad and bowed her head to let Yuri jump out of the cockpit, the poor air quality almost tempting him to switch the vision mode of his visor as he approached the "warehouse". Calling an admittedly grand palace a warehouse felt rather strange.

Regardless, Yuri pushed on and stopped in front of the heavy door with a curious hum. This guy really didn't want to be bothered from the look of things.

Ahead of him, seated by a neatly cluttered table, was the Tailhead he wanted to see. His approach was slow and an idle glance was spared around them to take in the contents of the room. His armoured form came to a stop just short of the desk. "You Saone?" He asked simply, hands resting on his belt. Now that he had a better look at the Twi'lek, he could see why he didn't want to be found. His rude joke was kept to himself, though a smirk still crept up behind his helmet.

Saone Nola-bay

 

[Saone Nola-bay]

Renovated Hutt Palace - Vo Dasha, a moon orbiting the planet Taboon - Yuri Maji

Saone pulled his hand away from the cloth, leaving the incomplete Pantoran ID under the light of the curing lamp. He scanned the converted warehouse for any signs of life besides the two of them, spotting only inactive droid assistants before his eyes returned to Yuri Maji , who stood in front of him.

"Of course," he replied when his client asked if he was Saone, giving a kick to the base of his stool to spin it halfway around, though it creaked under his less-than-fit frame since his job rarely allowed him time to work out with the constant stream of clients needing forged documents.

Saone leaned back, pushing the magnifying visor up onto his forehead to examine the man without any distortion. It was obvious they were a true Mandalorian just from their stance, as most amateurs wearing beskar were weighed down so their posture was slightly sagged to compensate.

"What can I do for you? I assume you didn't come here just to admire the forger at his desk," he said with a light laugh, placing one hand on his knee and using the other to gently move the Pantoran's card aside for the moment. He would complete it later, but this client was far more important and had the potential to be dangerous if delayed.
​

 

[Yuri Maji]

Yuri huffed with amusement at Saone's remark, idly looking around them. "I'll admit, ya got a face for radio. That's admirable already." He quipped as he looked back at the tailhead. He never particularly liked them, he hated working with them. But this one was sadly useful and he needed the man's wares.

"I need permits and ID's. Personal use, no restrictions. Bottom line, I wanna move wherever and whenever, I don't wanna get bogged down with some stupid paperwork." He explained, shifting his weight to relax a little. There was no reason to stand at attention. With a final quick check of the air quality, Yuri decided to remove his helmet and face the forger directly with a cool grin. "I'll pay proper, obviously. I'd just like to get it done as quickly as possible, I'm gonna be goin' to the Core in the near future and those schuttas on Coruscant love to make life difficult." He explained calmly to Saone.

Golden eyes idly studied the Pantoran's very legitimate military ID on the workbench, earning a scoff. He was almost too afraid to ask about the details.

Almost.

"I'll pay more if you can get it done before that guy. What's he want that for, anyway?" He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Saone Nola-bay

 

[Saone Nola-bay]

Renovated Hutt Palace - Vo Dasha, a moon orbiting the planet Taboon - Yuri Maji

"I'll take that as a compliment," Saone said with a smile, briefly touching his double chin. Yuri wanted documents that would let him travel without restriction. Forging a data card was simple. Making a heavily armed Mandalorian pass unnoticed was not.

Saone activated his terminal and entered an encrypted Aurebesh code, pulling current information on the Sith Covenant while checking his stock of laminate sheets, encryption nodes, and biometric blanks. Satisfied, he retrieved a scuffed scanner from the bottom drawer and aimed it at Yuri. A faint blue light swept from helmet to boots as the device recorded his measurements.

"Fortunately, security on Sith-controlled Coruscant is lackluster," Saone said.

"I can bring you in as a sanitation worker. For the rest of your documents, I'll need an occupation. Gladiator is usually believable." Once the scan finished, he set the datapad down and noticed Yuri looking at the unfinished Pantoran identification card.

"That?" Saone lifted it between two fingers.

"A local romantic paid me a fortune to forge a commission in the High Republic Navy so he could impress his girlfriend. Relationships built on lies rarely last, but what do I know?" He passed the card to Yuri. Its weight, markings, and official stamp were nearly flawless, with only the uncured gel coating betraying that it was unfinished. Proof enough that Yuri had come to the right place.
​

 

[Yuri Maji]

Yuri listened to Saone's suggestions, giving a light nod in agreement. He took a step back to let the scanner do its thing while he watched. His attention turned to the Pantoran's ID chit when presented. Carefully taking it, he looked it over with a chuckle at the story. "Gotta admit the kid's got guts. I'd do the same a few years ago." He remarked, setting the card down again.

Looking at the Twi'lek, Yuri idly rested his hand on the table to lean in a little. "One more thing. Not just the Core. I want full access. Republic, Mandalorian Empire, I don't want any restrictions. You wanna put me down as a business consultant or a gladiator, it don't matter to me. I just need the schuttas to not ask questions until my cargo's gone." He explained calmly. It was an immensely tall order and he was sure that his host was silently beginning to form some reservations about the order, but money wasn't an issue.

He stepped back to give the man his space with a cool grin. "You need anything else from me, just ask. I got time." He quipped, looking around for a seat. With how many permits and ID's he was requesting, he likely needed to help the tailhead with a number of details to make the documents believable. He knew more than most in the galaxy about forgery, it helped to sprinkle a little truth in there.

"Don't need a Republic Navy pass, at least. I already got a girl." He joked with a chuckle.

Saone Nola-bay

 

[Saone Nola-bay]

Renovated Hutt Palace - Vo Dasha, a moon orbiting the planet Taboon - Yuri Maji

Saone pushed the Pantoran's card aside and considered the problem. Forging separate clearance documents for every major galactic power would create too many conflicting records. One cross-reference of Yuri Maji biometric profile could expose the entire ruse.

A neutral corporate identity would be safer.

His eyes shifted toward a secured datastack containing fresh security templates from Breshig War Forge Consolidated. The Mandalorian defense contractor possessed transit and weapons-testing clearances across much of the galaxy, making an armored field specialist easy to believe.

Saone glanced at Yuri when he joked about having a girl but kept his thoughts to himself. Paying clients were allowed their fantasies.

"Breshig," he said, pulling an unencoded card from his desk. "I'll register you as a senior field specialist. They are politically neutral and attract less attention than Strill Securities." He placed the black card beneath the laser engraver and entered the first commands.

"That should provide smooth passage through most checkpoints."
​