I have another story about Canderous’ son, a character I have created.

Road to Mandalore

He stopped at Dr’anni’s feet and looked up, waiting.

She jiggled for five minutes before she noticed his waiting patiently, and upon seeing him she dropped into the splits, her right leg hanging over the edge of the stage. She bought her left leg around into the most provocative position she could think of, and was disappointed when he ignored it.

“Wha’sa you wan’?” She asked in broken basic.

“What was that dancer called?”

“You’sa wan’ time with I?” She looked interested. “You’sa Mandalory, have a good time long while we hmm?”

“No, I just want her name, and if you know where she lives tell me.” He growled, her face hardened.

“You’sa pay like everyone else,” she looked over his shoulder. “It’sa credit or I knows nuthin’.” Canderous sighed and produced a credit chip. She eyed it carefully. “Me’sa take Mandalory, then me’ll tell.” He extended it and she took it delicately. Opening her hand to reveal an empty palm, she grinned and stood up lithely.

“Me’sa not knows Mandalory.” Canderous was totally still, breathing almost imperceptibly. On the outside he appeared calm, deadly calm. On the inside he was calmer, he thought for a moment. It was an irony of existence that her life was probably worth less than the droid’s vapid platitudes, but most cantina owners had a problem with cleaning their good dancers off of the furniture. Not only did it cause problems with local security enforcement, it made decent drinks difficult to obtain.

“Why is it women play games?” He rumbled to himself. “No matter were they come from?” There had been times when he had wanted to slap Mission until she glowed. It had been the only thing that he and Carth had agreed on, but he had been restrained by his loyalty to Revan. The Wookie had been a lesser threat.

“Ok, I’ll play,” he set the case down. “Dr’anni, you want more credit?” The look in her eyes was suspicious, at first, but when he held up another chip in the tips of his fingers, her eyes locked onto it like a guided drone.

She bent down, hinting the he should drop it down her top and he licked one of his teeth. He knew she would probably be faster than him, but she would also not be expecting his next move.

Some scumbag in the gang haunted corridors under Taris, had once told him that he was an old man and should probably retire, Canderous could have handled that. But the idiot had pushed his luck. Canderous had been required to explain carefully, with diagrams, that if he said he was a Mandalorian. If he was demonstrably capable of destroying a gang on his own without getting shot. If he could field strip a blaster and employ said pieces in an entirely inventive manner, that probably violated more than just the warranty, and put it back together afterwards, it was probably safer not to call him a liar. After a protracted discussion with Canderous, on such issues as, personal safety, a need for honesty among mercenaries, and a polite request for him to cease hostilities. The young man had joined the Exchange without a second glance, he didn’t dare refuse, his first glance had encountered an irate Mandalorian.

Canderous exhaled slowly and reached up to her top; concentrating carefully he let the chip drop. His hand followed it and she squealed with surprise as he pulled her down, caught her shorts in his other hand and tucked her under his arm like a pet. She gabbled her outrage as he picked up the case and strode towards the exit.

“Sir! Excuse me!” The bar droid quavered. “That belongs on the fixtures list for this cantina, if you take it out of the door it is not covered by the insurance. Any damage is your responsibility and I will have to contact local enforcement.”

Canderous drew level with the end of the bar and looked at the droid.

“Ten minutes?” At his words, the droid adopted a pose of what could have been shock, although it actually looked as though it were about explode.

“I will bring her back, you have my word on it.” He said as he walked out.