Sacrifice

little above tenor, and buzzed with a faint resonance. "We noted your return with delight."

"Need someone dragged screaming to your hive, Sikili?"

"Not today, thank you. But we have a business proposition for you."

"I'm all ears."

"Ah . . . we hear exciting things about iron deposits, which we assume to be true—"

"They are."

"—and many highly desirable things can be made with Mandalorian iron. We would like to acquire some."

"Happy to sell, when we have a surplus for export."

"We note the unstable nature of the galaxy these past months, which will be exacerbated, we expect, by the passing of Prime Minister Gejjen."

"Yeah. Good times for the arms trade."

"Indeed. But also anxious times for us, when Murkhana challenges our markets, and now Kem Stor Ai talks of war with Murkhana, which is too close for the hives' taste."

"You pack enough hardware to make Murkhana and Kem Stor Ai into their own asteroid field, Sikili. Half their kit comes from Roche. Spit it out."

"We are a literal people, Fett."

"I'm literal, too. Let's all be literal together."

Sikili went quiet for a moment. Fett could hear the faint clicking of his mouthparts. "Now that you have abundant beskar, you'll rearm.