The cargo ships slowly lumbered across the landscape. The sun was hidden by grey clouds, which ever darkened, threatening to rain on them. The twenty guards of the ships rode of hovercraft, pacing back and forth, their guns hanging loosely at their sides. No trouble could or would be expected. Not so far in the very center of the Mandalorian System. After all, who would dare fight off twenty thousand heavily armored, kick-you-butt-in-a-second, Mandalorian warriors? "Captain Graane," the head driver called out, "You look worried. What is it?" “Maybe not anything,” he replied.