Aiden Lanic Angel Smuggler

[kabeone]

Main character: Aiden Lanic, Male, Smuggler

Also appearing:Jedi Knight Malix Gordon, and JK crew.

 

Spoilers for JK and Smuggler story lines.

Edited October 12, 2012 by kabeone

[kabeone]

Part 1. No Introductions

 

 

 

 

 

“Tell me why I should not kill you.” Lord Scourge said. He didn’t sound angry or even interested he just held the lightsaber inches away from my face. Now, under normal circumstances even nice people think I would be better off dead. A Sith would probably take my only redeeming trait and think it’s a great excuse to melt my face. So all I can do is stare back at the Sith pureblood thinking, I made it here to the Republic just to be killed by the Sith, and all because I stopped to help a girl.

 

My name is Aiden Lanic, this week. I’m about to be killed by a giant red Sith, and it’s all the Jedi’s fault.

 

I had never seen a Togruta before I met her, at first I thought she was a Twilek with face paint. She was surrounded by a big group of gang members probably Black something or Frost whatever. She told them she would let them go if they left peacefully, they laughed and attacked.

 

She held her own, and more than that, she cut them down easily. No one had noticed me yet, I was just going to slip past, go on my way, and then one of the bastards got smart and threw a grenade into the mix. He killed most of his own men, and she barely shielded herself in time to keep from going with them. So there I was shield generator intact, ready to pick up my cargo, the nice Jedi-lady had cleared out all the opposition I was expecting to run into, all I had to do was wait for them to leave and I was home free.

 

The boss, or at least the one who had thrown the grenade, walked up to the unconscious Jedi. He kicked her a few times, I don’t blame him, if I saw someone take down twenty of my guys I would kick her to make sure she was out too. I was hoping he would ransom her, the Jedi would pay, but he pulled out his gun and put it to her head. There were still five of them, but I didn’t want to watch. So like a fool, I walk quietly up to the closest thug, he is bleeding from shrapnel, I shiv him quietly. He falls but his friends figured he was injured, same with the next one. Now I have three, paralytic for one, shot to the back of the head for the boss, and now one scared gangster is standing alone with a paralyzed friend, a stranger, and an unconscious Jedi. He put his hands up in surrender so he got a punch to the face and went down.

 

This is about where my plans ended, deep thinker I am not. My pickup did not include a Jedi but leaving her there was out of the question, so I picked her up. Women with muscle are heavy.

 

Things went pretty smooth after that, got the pickup, the cargo was safe and undamaged, got it all on my ship, put the painted Twilek on my bed. I was feeling good about myself after I jumped into hyperspace. That was until an angry painted Twilek picked me up and tossed me like a ragdoll across my own bridge.

 

“Whoa there, ma’am.” I drawled carefully trying not to mess up my navigation console.

 

“Where am I? Who are you?” she demanded.

 

“You’re on my ship, ma’am. My name is Aiden Lanic. I found you unconscious, I brought you here.”

 

“Where are we going?” she looked out the window, the stars streamed past us.

 

“Ma’am we’re going to a place called Nar Shaddaa. Have you ever heard of it?” She glared at me. How was I supposed to know that was a dumb question?

 

“What’s your business there?”

 

“My business is my own, ma’am.” Jedi or not, I never tell anyone my business.

 

“You will tell me your business, or I will have you arrested.”

 

I tried to reason with her. “When we exit hyperspace in,” I checked the console, “one hour, we’ll be on Nar Shaddaa. You don’t have authority there.” I might have smiled in a self-satisfied way, which might have been a mistake. She certainly thought so.

 

When I woke up, I was in prison. A few hours later, I was dragged into an interrogation room, and made to kneel. The guards roughed me up because it was fun, then a Jedi came in and pretended that the idea of torturing a prisoner horrified him, he chased the guards away. He was waiting for someone, I had a pretty good idea who it would be.

 

When the painted Twilek arrived, she slapped me several times. Even her Jedi friend looked rather upset about it.

 

“Children,” she shouted, “You were smuggling children to Nar Shaddaa. I should kill you right now.”

 

“That would be very un-Jedi-like of you. Don’t they take away Jedi-points when you do things like that?” I have a way with women.

 

She grabbed my collar and choked me with it. “They were half starved.” She said with her teeth clenched.

 

“What did you expect?” I said shrugging, which is harder than it looks when your hands are bound behind your back and chained to your ankles. “I wasn’t awake to feed them and you didn’t know they were there.” She looked guilty but I did not want to make the mistake of smiling again.

 

“Why were you hiding them and what would you do with them on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

“There’re a couple people who would split them up and take them to various places where I would never know what happened to them.” Really, in this line of business the less you know about where things end up the safer it is for everyone.

 

There was a buzzing sound. The painted-Twilek-Jedi-lady walked to the door, someone came in and whispered something. I could see the anger in her body language, I have seen a killing rage before, but I have never been force punched before. I might have done a somersault and I landed on my face. Oddly enough, the concrete floor was softer than her fist.

 

The other Jedi held her back and steered her out of the room. He approached me and spoke softly.

 

“Please forgive her, she is very upset about the children. I apologize for what has happened to you, but you can understand why we are concerned.”

 

“Not really,” I replied to good-Jedi-cop. “I saved her life, she stole my ship, had me arrested, hurt the children she didn’t know were there, tortured an unarmed prisoner.” I shrugged again, “You should be concerned about her.”

 

“You realize we have to hold you here until we get some answers.”

 

“You don’t have to, but I know you will.” I like to close my eyes and hum a tune when I am done talking. The tune for the week was one I picked up at a cantina on Tatooine. I heard him leave, I heard the guards come back, they decided to beat me up again, maybe they didn’t like that tune.

 

Two meals passed. Depending on where I was that could be anywhere from one to four days. The good-Jedi-cop came back without the painted-Twilek. I was hauled to my feet and steered through corridors into elevators down ramps and up lifts and finally into a room. Painted-Twilek was there with the ten kids that I had hidden on my ship.

 

“The only thing they would say was that they would not speak unless you said it was ok.” She said. She was calm-ish again. I figured she would not punch me in front of children.

 

“That’s their instructions, yes.”

 

“Tell them it’s ok to speak with us.” She commanded.

 

If they had treated my injured face, I would have given her that smile again. As it was, I just quirked the corner of my mouth trying not to re-split my lip.

 

“They’re Sith aren’t they?” The smallest girl, Ella said. The painted-Twilek looked alarmed.

 

She kneeled in front of Ella and said in a very gentle tone, “I’m not a Sith, I’m a Jedi.”

 

“Then why did you beat up Mister Lanic.” She yelled, starting to cry. One of the people minding the kids tried to comfort her but she ran to me instead and hugged my leg. I would have felt smug if I liked children.

 

“She’s not a Sith, Ella.” I said seriously, “She’s just a bad person, bad people can be Jedi too.” I realized a bit belatedly that everyone in the room was a Jedi except the children and me. That just made it funnier.

 

Painted-Twilek looked ready to give me more summersault lessons but another woman came forward. Everyone deferred to her so I guess she must have been the boss-Jedi.

 

“It seems we have misjudged you Mister Lanic.” Boss-Jedi said. Her tone did not rise enough to indicate a question but since she stopped talking I took that as an invitation.

 

“Ok, well remove the shackles, give me back my ship, point me to the nearest kolto store and we’ll call it ‘let’s never see each other again.’” I replied holding my shackles out to her. She gave me one of those long measuring looks then nodded to the guards. One of them removed my shackles the other handed me a couple kolto packs.

 

“Mister Lanic,” Omir, the oldest boy, said taking Ella’s hand and pulling her off my leg. “Is it alright to talk with them?”

 

“Only if you want to, Omir.” I replied, “Just remember, good and bad people can be anything. You have to learn how to judge for yourself.” The children nodded vigorously and the adults looked sour, my job was done here.

 

“Where were they headed,” Boss-Jedi asked. “If we can we will take them there.”

 

“I told you I don’t know, and the drop window only stays open for six hours.” I shrugged. “Do whatever you can for them I guess.” I headed for the door, I assumed someone would stop me if I was not free to leave. No one did.

I walked out into bright sunshine; a million cars sped past me. The painted-Twilek had brought me all the way to Coruscant. Boss-Jedi had followed me out, she had that calm soothing voice Jedi always tried to use but with her, I had a feeling she actually talked that way.

 

“You smuggle Force sensitive children from the Empire.” She stated. “You find them new homes.” I slapped a kolto patch over my more swollen eye. “The Jedi often receive such children. Tell me, why haven’t I ever heard of you?”

 

I shrugged, “I told you I never know where they end up, for all I know some of these kids would have ended up with you anyway.”

 

“Why didn’t you just tell us?”

 

“What did you do to deserve answers?”

 

“But you could have saved yourself much harm by answering.”

 

“If I followed that line of reasoning, I would have given in to the Sith a long time ago.” I gave her my best ironic-I-beat-you-and-made-you-look-bad-head-bob. She took it better than most would, but she still did not like being compared to the Sith. “Take care of yourself Boss-Jedi.”

 

“My name is-” she began.

 

“Ah-ah, don’t need names.” I said trying to smile through my split lip. “You certainly don’t have mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

Edited July 27, 2012 by kabeone

[kabeone]

Part 2. What's In a Name

 

 

 

Coruscant is confusing, I finally found my ship, it was the first time since this whole mishap that I was a little upset. They gutted my poor baby, all the compartments were torn out, thrown everywhere. I walked into my little med-bay and took off my shirt to put bandages on my chest. I had some cuts but most of the injuries were bruises, they had hurt my baby more. “Don’t worry girl, we’ll get you back together.” I said patting her generous bulkheads.

 

“Mister Lanic,” a familiar voice that sounded less angry called from below the gangplank.

 

“Painted-Twilek-Jedi-lady.” I nodded, walking past her to where they had left my portable forklift. I started stacking compartment walls; I just needed to get them back into the ship. Once I was safely away from these people, I could arrange them for my next job.

 

“It’s Master Sumalee,” She said sharply, “and I’m a Togruta.” She waited, but so far, nothing she said warranted comment. “I’ve come to apologize,” still nothing comment-worthy. “I’m sorry.” Some people are not good at apologizing. “I did not trust you because not long ago, I was working with someone in your line of business and he double crossed us. He turned a fleet of ships against both Empire and Republic, I trusted him, and it cost hundreds of lives. The gang you saved me from was part of the cleanup from that debacle. I should not have judged you by what he did.”

 

I packed up my ship silently, she only watched me. I started to feel a little bad for her. She probably got yelled at or soothing-mono-toned at by Boss-Jedi. She made a mistake, it cost people their lives, she was hurting, and angry, I’ve been there. I still didn’t know what she wanted from me.

 

“There something I can do for you?” I asked finally, “Or do you just like watching me put my ship back together.”

 

She chuckled, and said, “Well, I would be lying if I said I didn’t.” She was looking at me the way normal women look at men. It was weird. I hadn’t bothered to put a new shirt on. The kolto would have stained it and I hate to do laundry. I am tall and fit, I can’t tan to save my life but otherwise most women think I am worth several glances, some even like the pale look. Jedi on the other hand never looked, certainly not the one who wanted to beat me up a few hours ago.

 

Now that I knew her face was not painted I could see subtle changes in her skin when she spoke. She was exotically beautiful, and unlike most Jedi, she was well aware of it. Now I was certain she wanted something. “Ok, so, what do you want?” I stopped and crossed my arms.

 

“We need someone who can help us get an important person out of the Empire. I was hoping you would help.”

 

“I only take unimportant people out of the Empire.”

 

“It would be highly profitable.”

 

“Profitable enough to spend when I’m dead?”

 

“You will have help, we’re sending a team of soldiers and our most powerful Jedi with you.”

 

“I don’t get by in this business with power, I do it with stealth. A powerful Jedi is a target not an asset.” I turned away, these people were crazy amateurs, I only hoped no one else was crazy enough to take their money.

 

“Please,” she ran in front of me. “It’s important, and even though you have every right to walk away. I think you’re the only one we can trust.”

 

“Probably,” I agreed, “But I have no reason to trust you. I finished packing up my ship and walked up the ramp.”

 

“I cleared out your names.” She said. I turned around and leaned against the ship entrance. “I found several of your aliases, thirty-two, to be exact. I erased them from the criminal database.”

 

“Boss-Jedi tell you to do that?”

 

“No, I did it myself. No one else knows about it.” She looked up at me; parts of her face were slightly redder now.

 

“How would you know to do that?”

 

She looked down flushing more, “I once did it for myself.” She offered me a datachip. “Here’s my contact info. Please just think about it.” I walked back down and took it from her. She turned and hurried away. I wondered how much of our conversation was scripted to appeal to my various tastes.

 

***

 

I checked my ship engines and ran some diagnostics, the little datachip in my pocket poked me every time I moved. The Jedi had ordered my ship refueled, so I upgraded my opinion of them from beasts to savages. When I couldn’t think of any other reason to stay I called Master Sumalee.

 

“I meet with your people, they detail the job, if I decide to walk, no hard feelings.” I said without waiting for an acknowledgement.

 

She hesitated, “The details of the mission are confidential.”

 

“If the details are suicidal I’m not doing it. I promise I will not warn any of my esteemed colleagues to run from any pretty Jedi they encounter, that way you might be able to snare one if I turn you down.”

 

She actually smiled. “But I only want you.” She teased, transmitting the coordinates for the meeting.

 

I shut off the comm before she could see me smile back at her. I looked at the meeting instructions, The Dealer’s Den Cantina, at least I should be able to get a decent drink.

 

 

 

 

Edited July 27, 2012 by kabeone

[kabeone]

Part 3. Zero Tolerance

 

 

 

Have you ever learned something then you started to see it everywhere? Now that I knew what a Togruta was, I realized at least a third of the Twileks I always saw walking around Nar Shaddaa weren’t painted, kind of disappointing. I made my way to the Cantina.

 

I always dress well for first-encounters, trousers, buttoned shirt, vest, fitted duster jacket, custom holsters, and shiny boots. Tailored clothes will make anyone look better, and I am not exaggerating when I say that my last trip to Alderaan several noble women offered to buy me for several million credits, but that is not why I dress that way. Fighters see me, and they see a fop who cannot fight. Poor clients see me, and they see someone who cares excessively about credits and appearances. Wealthy clients see me, and they see someone like them, they love throwing money at people just like them. It’s a tremendous advantage to give people the wrong impression.

People judge based on appearances because they have nothing else to rely on. I never assess people by their clothes, all I do is show up a little early.

 

The early mynock gets the first grub or something like that. At the very least the smuggler that arrives to meetings two hours early in a stealth field gets to see his mark show up and get plastered while ranting about the unfairness of life. The man was my height but he was broader by at least a hand span. He wore dark hooded robes and plated armor beneath it, the armor alone was probably half my weight. His two companions also wore robes, one was a cute red-headed Jedi, the other was an even larger man. His hood was drawn over his face, but I had caught a glimpse when they first entered, Sith pureblood.

 

I guess the man that killed the Emperor would be considered the most powerful Jedi. He looked pathetic, though. I always thought a drunken Jedi would be funny, turns out, not so much.

 

“They say I’m not ready to be a master. That I’ve strayed to the dark path. Bah,” he waved his hand at nothing, “what do they know about my path? They ask you to kill everything in sight and then they turn on you when you kill everything in sight. Fools.”

 

I did not like Jedi-whiner. The red-head tried to calm him or reason with him. She stood close to him, she touched him a lot, it was obvious they were involved. The Sith stood observing the pair. He seemed to find them amusing.

It was time for our meeting so I left the cantina, found a nice shadowy pile of rubble, un-stealthed, and returned as if I just arrived. I walked casually to the bar with my identifying markers displayed prominently, a red handkerchief and a specific drink order. “Corellian whiskey,” I told the bartender. It was the key phrase, which was a horrible key phrase considering the drink’s popularity. The two Jedi were looking at me while trying to pretend not to, the Sith was far more subtle. I saluted the red head, “One for the lady if she’s so inclined,” I drawled. The Jedi actually stood and clenched his fists, the red-head put her hand on his arm restraining him. I looked over at them, “One for the fella too, but I expect the same favors.” I smiled at him, he turned almost as red as his Sith friend. “Don’t be upset friend, I get sold to all kinds in these parts.”

 

“Aiden?” the redhead asked.

 

“Have we met?” I flirted lightly, “I’m sure I would remember someone that beautiful.” I saw the scar on her cheek, the face of a young girl from a long buried memory lanced through my head. For a moment she also looked confused, though it was hard to say if it was from my flirting or something else. The Jedi decided he had enough of my teasing.

 

“When you’re finished playing around,” he said to the redhead harshly, “I’ll be waiting to get this job done.” He turned and began walking to a private room. The Sith eyed me intently then moved to follow the Jedi.

 

The redhead flushed to match her hair and started to get up. “Hold up there,” I said, “He gave us explicit permission to play around.” I raised an eyebrow, she tried to frown at me but I could tell she was actually mad at him. “Aiden Lanic,” I held out my hand. She reached out to shake it.

 

“Kira Carsen.”

 

“Would you like that whiskey?”

 

She started to shake her head then changed her mind, “Yes, please.”

 

One whiskey told me everything. She would not come out and say it, but her friend was unstable, reckless, vindictive, and lawless. Usually it was my job to be those things and I had to fake it half the time. “Are you done playing with me, Kira?” I asked when I thought she had told me everything she was going to.

 

She looked more comfortable now, she actually smiled, “For now.” She said getting up. I followed her to the private cantina room where the Jedi and Sith waited, I stopped just in front of my seat, Kira sat next to the Jedi. Predictably, he was very upset.

 

“Jedi Knight Malix Gordon,” she pointed at the angry looking Jedi, “Lord Scourge,” she indicated the bored looking Sith. “As you have guessed,” she said to the two men, “This is Aiden Lanic.”

 

“What took you so long?” the Jedi fumed, he looked at me, “How dare you keep me waiting.”

 

“Did you want a turn, handsome?” I said winking, “We can go outside and leave Kira and Lord Scourge to wait.” Kira choked a little and the Sith Lord’s eyes glittered as he watched the Jedi’s face grow increasingly red. Just like Master Sumalee only for not nearly so good a reason, he lunged at me from his seat. He grabbed my newly pressed shirt by the collar and hauled me halfway across the table, luckily I was tall enough to keep my feet on the ground.

 

He growled in my face. “You think you’re funny.” The whiskey on his breath was thick, he drank the cheap stuff which increased my dislike for him.

 

“Your lips are so close,” I taunted. His eyes widened and he pushed me away. I took my time smoothing out my shirt and vest before sitting. He sat, folding his hands together regaining the semblance of calm. I shifted to my side casually and hooked my elbow over the back of my chair. “Let’s hear this plan of yours, Jedi.” The Jedi flipped the switch on the console next to him so he could show me some files, then he outlined his plan for getting an informant out of an Imperial occupied wing of Belsavis.

 

Suicide was not an adequate word. Belsavis was still wild with escaped prisoners, the Empire had also secured several key areas of the prison wards allowing a tactical advantage in almost every section.

 

“No way,” I said pushing the credit stick they offered me across the table, “Nothing about that plan sounds workable.” I stood, “Thanks for the memories, I’ll be going now.”

 

The Jedi stared at me, “You like this idea, you will go along with it.”

 

I sat down, “You know, I like this idea, I’ll go along with it.”

 

He smiled, Kira looked away briefly, the Sith Lord looked mildly amused. “You want to work for free, you want me to keep the credits.” The Sith Lord snorted with disgust.

 

“Hey you know what,” I said, “You keep the credits, I’ll do this one for free.”

 

“A fine idea,” he said pocketing the credit stick. “Let’s go meet the rest of our team.”

 

“Of course,” I replied, “After you.”

 

I’m an average man, well not average, I’m an incredibly attractive, witty, brave, somewhat crazy, enigmatic man, with a dark past and a childhood that would make most grown men cry for their mamas. What I mean to say is I have no special powers, but I am incredibly stubborn. Mind tricks do not work on me, but they do make me really angry. I would rather be beaten into submission and forced at gunpoint to do something than have someone force my will and mess with my head. The Jedi take it so lightly, it's sickening.

 

The Jedi stood, Kira stared at me looking as if she wanted to say something. The Sith Lord watched our little tableau play out. The Jedi grabbed Kira’s hand and pulled her next to him, she resisted a little but he pulled hard almost pulling her off her feet. Their backs were turned to me. As he grabbed for her, I saw the gap in his armor just under his armpit, good enough. My shiv dropped into my hand as I stepped forward, too quick for anyone to stop me, I buried it in the gap, twisting it to make sure it hurt. I pulled it out.

 

Blood spilled from the Jedi, he fell looking shocked, his eyes met mine as he tried to grab his lightsaber to fight me. He was losing blood too quickly, his eyes rolled back and he passed out. Kira screamed and pressed her hands against the wound. I pulled the red handkerchief out of my pocket and cleaned the Jedi’s blood off my shiv, I slipped it back into my wrist sheath. Without help the Jedi would be dead in a minute.

 

Lord Scourge drew his lightsaber and leveled it at me. “Tell me why I should not kill you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited July 27, 2012 by kabeone

[Earthmama]

Thank you for the early birthday present! Never stop writing because you are wonderful at it!

[kabeone]

Thank you for the early birthday present! Never stop writing because you are wonderful at it!

 

Happy early birthday!

[kabeone]

Part 4. Proportional Response

 

Belsavis Imp-Side Imperial Spoilers

 

 

 

“There’s nothing relevant I could tell you that you don’t already know.” I replied shrugging. “Do, you want me to save him?”

 

“I may still kill you if you do.”

 

“Hey, you’re more honest than he is.” The Sith withdrew his saber so that I could kneel.

 

In my line of work, you get shived a lot. It’s quiet, effective, disabling, and unless your victim can get to help fast, fatal. So I developed a nifty little kolto stick, same length as the standard shiv, takes the place of a kolto tank, infused with stims, fast acting quick dissolve.

 

Staying alive is a hobby of mine, and I’m proud of the tools I’ve made, but I don’t share them around. So, when I pulled out a little green stick and felt around for the wound, Kira eyed me a little suspiciously. There was a chance I’d be killed for what I was about to do next but at least I got a chance to stab that bastard again. I found the wound and shoved it in, the bleeding stopped, the kolto restored him, the stims strengthened him enough to regain consciousness, and he screamed like a little girl.

 

He looked up and saw my face. I might have been smiling maliciously, he tried to draw his saber but the blood loss made him weak as a kitten. I wiped the blood off my hands with his robe.

 

“Kill him,” he said, to his companions, gasping every time he tried to get up.

 

I stood slowly, “It’ll take an hour for the stick to fully dissolve, but if he keeps moving like that it’ll puncture his lung.” Kira quickly put a hand on his chest to hold him down.

 

“That was impressive,” the Sith said, I noticed he didn’t follow his friend’s orders.

 

I shrugged, “More like a waste.”

 

Kira looked up at me angrily saying nothing, but the Sith actually chuckled.

 

***

 

The private rooms in cantinas aren’t really private. They just make it so other customers can’t see your business. If you sneak off to one of those ‘private’ rooms for a little fun time with the dancers all you’re doing is providing extra **** material for the security team. I wasn’t surprised when a medical team showed up to take care of the Jedi and a security team showed up to arrest me. I guess stabbing a Jedi has a downside.

 

I expected to head back to prison but instead I was taken to the senate building. Kira went with the medics to see to the Jedi, but interestingly the Sith followed the security team. He made them so nervous that I managed to steal the keys to my cuffs before we arrived. They took me to a conference room where Boss-Jedi, Master Sumalee, and a number of military looking people waited. They looked upset.

 

Master Sumalee was visibly angry, but when she saw me and her face flushed, I couldn’t help but grin, then she saw my expression and went back to being angry. I told you, I am incredibly attractive, and I was no longer dressed like a lowly outlaw. She looked ready to lay into me but Boss-Jedi held up a hand and moved forward until she stood directly in front of me.

 

“We gave you our trust,” she said smoothly, “and you tried to kill your contact. Tell me why.”

 

“If I was trying to kill him, I would have stabbed him on the left side, and I certainly wouldn’t have saved him.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at that but nodded. “So now I must ask why you went through the trouble of stabbing him in the first place.”

 

“Proportional response.” I replied blandly, “He tried to use a Jedi trick to force me to go along with your suicide plan.”

 

“That hardly seems like a proportional response.” She said frowning, so I stepped forward, my hands now free of their cuffs thanks to the keys I stole, pulled her to me, and kissed her. She was probably twice my age or more, but she had soft lips that tasted like mint and a really tight body. I’ve kissed worse. She was completely surprised, and for a moment didn’t resist at all, then I was thrown backward by a wall of air. When I finished sliding across the marble floor, I had a great view of the ceiling and five angry soldiers pointing their guns at me.

 

I grinned up at them and one of the soldiers kicked me in the ribs. I coughed up some blood, and chuckled. “I force you to kiss me and I get thrown across the room and kicked in the ribs. He used a mind-trick to try to force me to commit suicide I think a stabbing is a proportional response, actually less since I’m a really good kisser.” I smiled at Boss-Jedi, she looked flustered but she recovered quickly. The soldiers hauled me to my feet.

 

“The need for your services was dire, I’m sure he felt he had no choice.” She defended his actions but the calm of her voice faltered.

 

“If you believed that, you would have made him Master.”

 

“What do you know about Jedi business,” Master Sumalee demanded.

 

“Jealous you didn’t get a kiss?” I asked. The soldiers raised their rifles at me and the Togruta looked ready to show me a proportional response. Boss-Jedi’s eyes looked far away, I prepared to get my face kicked in.

 

“The Jedi also took his payment.” Lord Scourge said. The heads in the room swiveled to stare at him. Boss-Jedi refocused and narrowed her eyes. “The scoundrel pretended the mind-trick worked so the Jedi used it again to take his payment.”

 

Now the Jedi looked worried. Finally, Boss-Jedi shook her head, “I do not agree with your reasoning but I understand it and we can no longer trust you to ask for your help. You are free to go.”

 

“What?” Master Sumalee exclaimed.

 

I grinned catching on. “A trial where my defense is that a Jedi tried to coerce me into a suicidal top secret mission then stole my payment won’t look good for anyone.”

 

“It’s not suicidal,” one of the soldiers said. He took off his helmet, he had piercing blue eyes and jet black hair. He was a bit younger and shorter than I was, but I wouldn’t take him in a fair fight, not that I ever take those. “It’s a straight extraction.”

 

“I’ve been to Belsavis,” I replied to the grunt, “It’s a madhouse, those sectors you need to pass through are crawling with insane prisoners and Imperials.”

 

“I’ve also been there, it’s not as overrun as you say,” he replied, he controlled his expression as well as a Jedi but he obviously thought I was exaggerating due to fear. “Our intel on the ground is good, we’ve updated enemy positions as reported by the Warden.”

 

“Then he lied to you. Probably doesn’t want you to know he’s incompetent.”

 

“Warden Graal is a good man, he wouldn’t lie.” The grunt crossed his arms and glared at me.

 

I stared back at him for a solid minute, this poor stupid grunt had no idea so I told him, “Warden Graal is dead.”

 

 

 

 

[kabeone]

Part 5. Grunt

 

 

 

No one but me and the soldier had been speaking, but somehow the room grew quieter at my revelation.

 

“You’re lying,” the grunt said. He looked ready to kill me so I shrugged and turned away.

 

“Ok,” I agreed walking toward the exit. I tossed the keys and my cuffs to the nearest guard. “I’m lying.”

 

“Stop him,” Boss-Jedi called to the guards. They lined up in front of me leveling their weapons, blunt sticks with electricity periodically rolling off the ends. I turned around and they escorted me back to the Jedi and the angry soldiers.

 

“Tell us what you know,” the grunt demanded.

 

“Can’t trust me,” I bowed to Boss-Jedi, “and if I tell you, you’ll just mind trick some other sob into getting himself killed for you. I’ll pass.”

 

The grunt took a moment to consider my words before punching me in the gut and forcing me to my knees. He was really strong, I definitely wouldn’t take him in a fair fight. “We can hold you without trial for some time, and we can make prison cells really uncomfortable.”

 

I closed my eyes, the tune to hum for today was an old one I learned on Alderaan. There were lyrics but I’m bad at remembering them, There once was a lady so fair, men would kill for a lock of her hair, something something her hand, something lovely something something land. The grunt ruined it by punching me repeatedly. I kept my eyes shut and counted how many hits landed before I started to lose consciousness.

 

“Major!” a woman’s clipped accent shouted, the grunt stopped punching. “This is in violation of section 221 regarding unarmed prisoners, you cannot do this.”

 

“Dorne’s right, sir.” A low voice growled, “This scum aint worth it.” The name and the accent caught my attention, I forced myself to stay awake. I opened my eyes to see a small soldier holding back the grunt. He shrugged off her arm and walked away to get control of himself.

 

“See what you can do for him, Dorne.” The grunt said but I didn’t care about him. The woman knelt beside me and took off her helmet. I stared at her, blue eyes and blond hair. Apparently, she was their medic, she began applying kolto to my wounds and gave me a shot for the concussion I would have. I couldn’t stop looking into her eyes.

 

“Don’t go on this mission,” I said to her. “It’s a deathtrap.”

 

She frowned at me, despite moving to save me she didn’t think much of me either. “I have my duty,” was all she said as she finished treating me. She returned to her group, the Jedi conferred with them quietly, I knew what they were doing, only a moron would miss that I paid attention to the pretty medic. I didn’t care, I no longer had a choice.

 

The woman walked back to me, I was still kneeling so she knelt in front of me. It was so strange, she should have learned how to use her beauty and allure to get information. But all she did was look at me earnestly, her face showing me everything she thought, “Please, sir, we need the information you have. This mission is vital.”

 

“Fine,” I replied to everyone's surprise, “but I’m going with you, it’s the only way you’ll survive.” I looked up at Boss-Jedi, she nodded acceptance, I turned to the Sith. He had been watching with a kind of predatory amusement, “and keep your Jedi on a leash.” He bowed ironically both to me and Boss-Jedi.

 

“As you wish.” He said.

 

 

 

Edited July 29, 2012 by kabeone

[bright_ephemera]

I like riding around in this guy's head. Good stuff.

[kabeone]

Part 6. Disguises

 

 

 

“I’ll have you know,” the Jedi-Jerk said sitting next to me in the co-pilot seat, “When this mission is finished, I’ll kill you.” I ignored him and looked behind me. The military people and the Jedi’s crew were sitting on the makeshift benches I had set up, I don’t get a lot of passengers that aren’t cargo.

 

“Hey Red,” I called to the Jedi’s crew, “Your dog’s humping my leg, get him off me.”

 

Kira and Scourge exchanged a look but she was the one who stood. I realized belatedly that ‘Red’ could apply to either of them. I grinned to myself, though the Jedi thought I was grinning at Kira because he shoved me back against my seat and stood up. Kira took his arm and they returned to their bench. Our course was laid in for a supply outpost in an out-of-the-way sector. I followed the two to the seating area but I stopped in front of the medic they had called Dorne. I had avoided her until now which everyone appreciated especially Commander-Grunt.

 

“I figure your hips are 83 and your waist is 57,” I said eyeing her, “What’s your bust size?” There’s no non-blunt way to ask a woman her bust size, so I don’t bother skirting the question. Commander-Grunt stood menacingly, but he was the fourth most dangerous person on my ship so he wasn’t as scary as he hoped.

 

Dorne looked at me appraisingly, and she caught on to my ways quicker than the others. “79 Metric 4.” She answered primly. I nodded and went to my stash of disguises. I found an Imperial officer uniform that would fit her. It would be a bit tight but that might be a good thing, for distraction purposes, of course. I handed her the uniform.

 

“You and Big Red are with me.” We were on our way to steal a supply ship scheduled to make a delivery to Belsavis, the trick was to steal it without anyone reporting it stolen. That would take some careful talking. The Sith narrowed his eyes at me but said nothing.

 

“I’m coming with you.” Jedi-Jerk said.

 

“Same here.” Commander-Grunt asserted.

 

I evaluated Jedi-Jerk, “Would he pass for Sith?” I asked Big Red, Kira flinched.

 

The Sith Lord considered the question as if he found it amusing, he answered me but he looked at Kira, “Yes, he would, even to another Sith.” She studied her feet and said nothing. I didn’t like the trend of that conversation but it was not my problem as long as Jedi-Jerk didn’t decide to defect in the middle of the mission.

 

I turned to Commander-Grunt. I assumed he thought he could just follow along wearing a uniform. That wouldn’t work in the Empire, but he would never believe me.

 

I shrugged, found him a uniform, and handed it to him. I put on my Dromund Kaas accent. “If someone speaks to you,” I said holding myself at the precise degree of relaxed attention required of the Imperial military. “Make sure to elongate your ahhs slightly roll your arrrs form your ohhs properly and if you can manage it no contractions hmm?” Dorne looked at me and blinked.

 

“For a minute there,” she said, “You sounded exactly like my father.”

 

I ignored the statement and bombarded Commander-Grunt with Imperial protocol. He couldn’t even salute properly in the Republic military style so after a five-minute lecture on standing and walking he looked at Elara for confirmation.

 

“He’s right, sir.” Shaking her head with amazement, “If you do not walk or stand correctly it is likely someone will question you, once you speak everyone will know you are not Imperial.”

 

“Will they question me with a Sith there?” He asked.

 

“The fewer points of failure we have the better.” The Sith Lord said.

 

Elara headed to another room to change. I checked over the forged documents we had created that would get us aboard the re-supply ship. Once there the four of us would have to incapacitate or kill the crew and take over the ship. Commander-Grunt handed me back the uniform.

 

“Fine, but let’s get something straight. Do not mess with anyone on my team.” I expected him to emphasize his words with a jab but he did not.

 

The idea of ‘messing’ with Dorne was enough to make me shudder but I would never tell him that or why. I didn’t acknowledge him for a long time, but he looked as if he planned to stand there until I did. Finally, after I finished checking every line of the forged documents, I leaned over and spoke so only he could hear, “If you’re worried about your medic, I’m not the one you should be threatening.” I nodded my head toward the back.

 

Dorne had finished changing into her uniform, it was a bit tight in the best way that a uniform could be tight, and she was talking to the Jedi’s doctor. The man looked like he should be an extra on one of the sleazy HoloNet productions. I could almost hear the bad music playing when he walked bow-chicka-wow-wow. Dorne looked very excited to talk to him. I snickered.

 

I heard Commander-Grunt’s knuckles crack but he did not threaten the doctor. I guess I’m special. The doctor had one hand on the wall behind Dorne and was leaning in close to tell her something, but she didn’t seem to notice. She left him and hurried back to me. The doctor was left leaning into nothing, he recovered and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.

 

“Mr. Lanic!” she sounded breathless. I frowned, the uniform wasn’t that tight. “The doctor was just telling me about the miraculous device you used to save Jedi Gordon. Where did you get it?”

 

I groaned inwardly and considered the shortest answer. “I invented it.” That was the wrong answer. I should have said I stole them off a dead guy, because now she was clapping her hands and hopping. It was, in a word, cute.

 

“How did you get the kolto to dissolve without leaving a residue of the binding agent in the wound?” Now I was being watched intently for a number of reasons. Jedi-Jerk because he was reminded of his recent shiv-ing, Doctor-Sleaze because he couldn’t believe I invented something, and Commander-Grunt because his subordinate was shining at me.

 

“I don’t use a binder, it’s all in the manufacturing process. Once it dissolves, there’s only kolto and stim, I bet that’s why the doctor back there couldn’t figure it out.”

 

“Ole Doc will figure it out now that he knows it’s possible.” He said leaning against the wall.

 

“You could write a paper and present it at the next medical symposium.” Dorne enthused.

 

“I’m not a paper writing guy.”

 

Her expression turned stern, “But you could save so many lives. You cannot keep such a discovery to yourself.”

 

I frowned, “Saving lives, is not my business. Someone else will figure it out eventually. If I can do it, anyone can, maybe even the doctor back there.” Doctor-Sleaze looked sour. He hadn’t really done anything to deserve that, but I might have a pet peeve against people who talk about themselves in the third person.

 

She crossed her arms, “I’m not letting this go.” Then her eyes brightened, “I’ll just raid your cache of supplies until I find a prototype to copy.”

 

The idea of her unbending enough to steal from me was amusing. I reached out and put a cap on her head to complete her uniform. I pulled it down to cover her eyes. She laughed and straightened it out to precisely the right angle.

 

“Tell you what,” I said, “We survive this mission, I’ll give you the recipe and you write the paper.”

 

“Deal.” She said triumphantly.

 

I hope she didn’t need incentive to survive, keeping her alive was the only reason I agreed to help. I’m sure the rest of the group thought I wanted the beautiful officer for another conquest, but I didn’t care what they thought, I’d do whatever it took to keep my little sister safe.

 

 

 

 

Edited August 4, 2012 by kabeone

[kabeone]

Shiv

Cross posted from Shortfic Family prompt

 

 

 

 

 

The chamber was the same, the acolytes different. She had killed the last batch. The hermit knelt the same way he did when he first saw her. He sensed her presence long before he heard her footsteps. He watched the Rattataki approach. She had been a slave, a mere object to be used until someone had gone too far and paid for it with his life. Death by lightning for a man who thought he could do as he pleased with her. After that, she would be sent to Korriban where she would become an Acolyte yet still treated as a slave until she earned the right to call herself Sith.

 

She was so beautiful, her skin perfect in its paleness, her dark lips formed a pretty pout or stretched into a gorgeous smile, her round and smooth head made hair an unnecessary adornment. Tall and thin, she was so graceful that most men had been content to watch her dance until the last one had wanted to see more.

 

He was a hermit, an old man long past the age when beauty swayed him, and yet even he felt the need watch her form glide across the room, to caress her smooth skin when she was in reach. He had refrained, the first time.

 

“Liyana. What are you doing here?” Spindrall asked. “I already informed Lord Zash and Overseer Harkun that you were worthy.”

 

“I seek shelter from the Academy, I will not return.” she said.

 

“You had such potential and confidence, what changed?”

 

She clenched her jaw in anger, “I am with child. It is only a matter of time before it shows. My enemies will see my weakness and will end me.”

 

“You want to protect your child?”

 

Her laugh was full of hatred and malice. “No, but there is nothing to be done, anything I choose will make me weak, and out there that weakness will be my death.”

 

“In here as well,” the hermit reminded her.

 

“That is why I seek your protection.” She knelt before him, “I offer myself, and the child if you want it when it is born.”

 

Spindrall reached out and touched her chin, she knew the game well enough to pretend it gave her pleasure, and she would still be beautiful for several more months.

 

“Very good,” Spindrall said, “I believe we can come to an arrangement.”

 

 

***

 

Screams were not unusual in the ancient tombs, Spindrall delivered the child, but Liyana was not doing well. The last eight months had taken their toll, Spindrall had made use of her mind, her power and her body. Now the fate she had gambled desperately to avoid was upon her, she was dying. The baby was born, a shock of hair damp against pale skin, he would pass for full human but barely.

 

“A son,” Spindrall said, holding him out to her. She turned away, he gave the baby to an Acolyte. “I sense no connection to the Force in him. What is his name?”

 

“He will have no name,” she said, “Do whatever you wish with him, if he survives these tombs give him this.” She handed Spindrall a datachip. “It belonged to his father, a soldier who promised to take me from here, then changed his mind because his father could not abide an alien.” She stretched her mouth over her teeth. “When he is grown may he look for the man, his mere presence will be enough to ruin their illustrious family name. He will be my revenge.”

 

Spindrall was amused by her fire even in death. “Very well, I will see that he learns to become the shiv in a stranger’s back.”

 

She held his eyes, then nodded, satisfied. “Leave me to die, I am no more use to you.” He left her lying in the lower tunnel of the catacombs. The shyracks or the klorslugs would come for her. He heard her casting lightning, fighting to the very end screaming her defiance, then nothing.

 

 

***

 

“Show me your ID and your papers, scum.” An officious looking little Imperial demanded. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, he had a bit of a paunch, he probably gained weight with his authority. From my two meter height, I could see he was also losing his hair. His partner looked away as he roughed me up. It was ludicrous the little man only came up to my chin, he had to tiptoe to look into my eyes. I would have laughed at him but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I handed him both and smiled at his partner.

 

Dromund Kaas is every bit as bad as they say. Always dark, always raining, always full of Sith. I arrived yesterday, fresh off the shuttle, so to speak. I got a few double takes but mostly I pass for full human instead of near-human. I sold some artifacts when I arrived, they were enough to buy me a decent suit and some fake papers so I could pretend to be an average citizen. By the glances I was getting from some of the ladies, I looked a good deal better than average. I salute them back with a few smoldering looks, just enough to make them blush.

 

That’s how I ended up with Officious-Imp in my face. Apparently, he fancied his partner more than he was willing to admit. She was a beauty, probably in her mid-twenties, black hair, dark brown eyes, and a figure that made the Imperial uniform worthy of saluting.

 

Officious-Imp grunted while he looked at my papers, and finally told me to move along. He managed to fumble my ID and his partner picked it up. I accepted it back from her stroking one of her fingers as she handed it to me. She turned a shade of crimson that would make a pureblood jealous.

 

“Perhaps I should apply for the Academy, you could use a new partner,” I whispered into her ear.

 

“Come along, Officer Meln,” her partner glared at me. She hurried on but looked back twice. I grinned, it was good to be sixteen and free.

 

You would think growing up in the Korriban Academy tombs that I would be a half-wild savage. It turns out some of the most educated people in the Empire are running around down there, though they all have lost their minds. Spindrall taught me everything he knew about living and surviving, he let me practice talking to the officers and acolytes, running the con, seeing if I could pass for another student, a servant, a slave, a soldier. Luckily, I was tall and looked older than I was.

 

A few days ago, he said it was time for me to leave. I would fulfill the destiny my mother gave me and become the shiv in my father’s back. It got me out of the tombs, which was what I wanted. Now all I needed to do is find the man. The datachip gave me an ID number, the Imperial personnel database and some creative rewiring gave me his name, rank, location, and a recent picture. I caught a speeder to the citadel and strolled into the Intelligence wing.

 

There he was, a tall man with dark brown hair a mustache and beard. He appeared to be waiting for something. I examined the directory to give myself time to decide how I wanted to ruin him.

 

“Phineas,” a woman called. She ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek. She had golden blonde hair and a sweet lilting voice. She also had two children in tow a boy and a girl about six years old, miniature copies of their mother. They attached themselves to the man’s legs. He gathered the children into his arms and returned the woman’s kiss. A smile flashed over his face making his stern visage handsome for the briefest moment.

 

“Lieutenant Dorne,” an officer called, the man put his children down and saluted smartly. “I just wanted you to sign off on this before you left.”

 

“Of course, sir,” he put his thumb on the outstretched datapad and saluted again.

 

This was my chance to destroy him, his half-alien sixteen-year-old son, walking up to his wife, two children and commanding officer. His reputation would be ruined once they finished calling me a liar. The little girl noticed me watching and smiled.

 

Her mother followed her gaze. “Elara,” she whispered though every sound carried in this place, an odd thing for a building where secrets were told. “Don’t stare at the people here.”

 

“He’s beautiful mommy.” She whispered back. I would have blushed if my face could hold color.

 

“Shh,” she smiled apologetically at me. Dorne finished his business, gathered them up and left.

 

I watched them go and walked out into the rain. I could destroy him, his pretty wife, and his cute children, but my reward would be a beating and interrogation from Imperial Intelligence. No thanks. If I’m going to shiv someone I’m going to make sure it’s worth it.

 

For a moment I felt bad I had let my mother down, but what did she really give me? Life? She was just trying to save her own. She didn’t even give me a name, but now I had one, from him. What ’s more, I had a family, little did they know it.

 

I smiled to myself and decided to see if I could make Officer Meln blush again.

 

Tomorrow and every day after, my name would be something else, but that day for that moment, my name was Dorne.

 

 

 

 

 

Edited August 10, 2012 by kabeone

[greyjedibp]

Thanks for using my tread to help with your story man.

[kabeone]

Thanks for using my tread to help with your story man.

 

It's an interesting idea to write for a male specifically. I already do a lot of Jedi/Smug crossover in Remi's world so I had to go dark side for it to be different.

[kabeone]

Part 7. Not Nice

 

 

 

 

It’s difficult for the Republic to infiltrate Imperial installations covertly because no one on the Republic side can grasp the bureaucratic paperwork required to get anything done in the Empire. If they ever could, they would be able to forge their way to the highest bastions of the Imperial military and society. Hard to believe the only thing stopping the Republic from total domination is reading comprehension.

 

We were granted entry to the transport vessel without incident. A squad of Imperial troops was already on board along with two officers and the pilot. We sat quietly and waited for the transport to clear the security perimeter of Belsavis.

 

I walked to the door of the bridge and knocked. The door slid open a crack, I spoke quietly, “I need to speak with the Captain. My lord, has a,” I paused for effect, “personal request.” The Lieutenant nodded and allowed me into the room.

 

I made up an elaborately vague set of statements regarding why it is of the utmost importance that there be no record of the two Sith being on this transport. The Captain nodded through most of it and made the appropriate deletions in his flight log regarding any Sith. On cue, a commotion outside the cockpit erupted.

 

“What’s going on?” The Captain said indignantly, he apparently did not worry about the sound of blaster-fire on a ship he just felt terribly inconvenienced by it. The pilot reached for the emergency transponder and the Lieutenant ran to open the door. The pilot got a paralytic before he could touch the large red button and the Captain received a shiv to the lungs, neither made a sound. The Lieutenant was still looking outside when I walked up behind him. I almost felt sorry that the last thing he would see was a Jedi and a Sith slaughtering his men. Then he fell, his spine severed at the base of his neck. I sealed and locked the bridge door and walked back to the paralyzed pilot. Only his eyes could move. I knelt in front of him.

 

“Live,” I waved my right hand, “Die,” I waved my left hand. He looked firmly at my right hand. I smiled a little, the last group I played this game with was so dumb I had to kill two men before they understood how it worked.

 

I picked up the Captain’s datapad and read his orders. I looked back at the pilot. He was having trouble breathing, which happens when you can’t move your muscles.

 

“Yes,” right hand, “No,” left hand. He looked at my right hand.

 

“Are there any new procedures for docking at Belsavis, created in the past thirty days?” Left hand. I continued to ask him simple yes or no questions while I checked the ship’s flight controls, satisfied that there would be no surprises. I dragged him to a corner. The shooting had stopped a few moments earlier. I opened the door and peeked outside. The Jedi and Sith were checking for survivors, they had done their jobs, I looked for Dorne, she was sitting in a corner holding her side.

 

I swore in a couple languages and made my way to her stepping over the body of one of the Imperial troops. He was the one who managed to get her.

 

“Let me see,” I said moving her hand, part of the wound smoked and the other part bled, that meant it was deep. The blaster bolt had ricocheted off a bulkhead and glanced against her ribs. If she had not been aiming a weapon she might have lost her arm instead.

 

“It only glanced off me, a bandage will suffice.” She said bravely and stupidly. I ignored her and pulled her down until she was lying on her back. I propped her legs up on a dead Imperial. I cut away her shirt with my shiv. She was moderately alarmed but I wasn’t looking at her chest and I positioned myself to block the other two, eventually she relaxed enough concentrate on fighting back tears. A few bandages, stims, and a kolto-droid later and the bleeding stopped. I covered her with the remains of her shirt and went back to the bridge.

 

Paralyzed-Pilot looked up at me with terrified eyes. I removed his shirt, I’m sure that was confusing for him. I could have taken someone else’s but his was the only one without blood on it. I brought it back to Dorne then I turned away and stared at Jedi-Jerk and Big Red. The Jedi looked as if he still wanted to kill someone, namely me. The Sith studied me almost curiously, as if I behaved in a way he hadn’t expected. I'm sure that had not happened to him in a long time. Dorne put her stolen shirt on and stood up with the help of the wall.

 

I went back to the bridge and signaled my ship. While I waited for Commander-Grunt and the others to arrive, I checked on the pilot, he died of asphyxiation, I never said he’d live forever. I dragged them back to the other bodies and started stripping them of anything useful. A pile for ID’s, a pile for valuables, a pile for armor that was still worth using, and a pile for bodies, I’m an efficient scavenger and soon there was a pile of mostly naked imperial bodies.

 

“What are you doing?” Dorne asked from her seat, she hid it well but she was still in pain.

 

“Take a pain killer.” I replied.

 

“I don’t want my mind to be fuzzy on this mission.” She said firmly.

 

“Take a pain killer, chase it with an adrenal you’ll be fine for several hours.”

 

“Then I will be remarkably ill, no thank you.” She smiled at me that wasn’t good. “What are you doing?” she repeated.

 

I picked up an elbow brace and hurled it at her, with the pain she was in, she couldn’t move out of the way in time or raise her arm to protect herself. It hit her directly on the chin.

 

“You are in pain, you are slow. Pain killer and an adrenal, be sick later or be dead soon.” I replied ignoring her hurt expression and turned back to my scavenging. The Sith’s lip curled in what looked like approval, which was sickening, the Jedi leered at Dorne’s attempt to blink back tears, which was worse, but she took a pain killer and an adrenal and started moving normally. She stood over my pile of loot and handed me the elbow brace. She crossed her arms looking stern, much better. I don’t need people like her thinking I’m a good guy.

 

 

 

Edited August 12, 2012 by kabeone

[bright_ephemera]

Part 7. Not Nice

 

 

Hard to believe the only thing stopping the Republic from total domination is reading comprehension.

 

 

And, see, this is why I love your writing.

 

I enjoyed the final line, too.

[Morgani]

How-How have I not read this yet? it's so Dresden Files and I LOVE Dresden Files. I really can't get enough of this.

[Magdalane]

Numerous nice turns of phrase in this. I am enjoying this story very much, Kabeone

[bright_ephemera]

it's so Dresden Files and I LOVE Dresden Files. I really can't get enough of this.

 

...You put your finger right on it! This narrative style does savor of Dresden...heh, while still being very distinct. After all, Harry really is a nice guy if you're not trying to kill him.

[iamthehoyden]

Your people are all crazy and I love them!

 

No, seriously, this has been a ton of fun to read, and I hope it continues!

[kabeone]

Numerous nice turns of phrase in this. I am enjoying this story very much, Kabeone

 

Your people are all crazy and I love them!

 

No, seriously, this has been a ton of fun to read, and I hope it continues!

 

Thanks for reading, he's fun to write.

 

How-How have I not read this yet? it's so Dresden Files and I LOVE Dresden Files. I really can't get enough of this.

 

...You put your finger right on it! This narrative style does savor of Dresden...heh, while still being very distinct. After all, Harry really is a nice guy if you're not trying to kill him.

 

I want to print out these quotes and frame them then just go be happy for a while.

[Sacrmeno]

I...need....MOAR!

But seriously this is really amazing stuff!!! Your writing is awesome!!!!!! You could publish something!! :D:D:D:D

[LillisNicholas]

This is an AMAZING story the character progression in the story is very well done! I also enjoy how you switch perspectives during the story. You are now one of my Favorite fan fiction writers i hope you keep writing!!!!

[kabeone]

Thank you all for the kind words Aiden is super fun to write.

[kabeone]

After You

(Takes place several years before Chapter 1 begins)

 

 

The dark haired man walked into the cantina, he immediately scanned the room. He had been warned about Iliya, a little too late for a good plan but he was used to improvising. He had planned to seduce her, her hunger for men was well known, but he was not her type. The data she was selling was too valuable for him to buy outright and she was too sharp to steal from directly. He would need a partner to win her over.

 

The problem with partners is they always wanted a cut of the big score, and he was not going to share. He decided to hire a contractor, someone who worked for a straight fee and did not know there was a bigger game going on around him. He found the perfect mark, the man came with a long list of satisfied lady-customers but he never took advantage of any of them, they were all alive with their fortunes intact. The fact that he was still working a job trading on his face meant he could not see the big picture. He was young, pretty, and dumb. Perfect.

 

***

 

Nar Shaddaa was built for people like me. No one cared how you made your credits as long as you had them, no one cared what you bought as long as you paid, and everything you could ever want was for sale.

 

I was meeting a new client, arranged in the usual way. I liked to show up early to meetings dressed to impress, it gave people a chance to get the wrong impression. I have to admit I was not expecting a man; my clients were almost exclusively older women. The man approached, I was wearing the key signals, a blue handkerchief and a green ring.

 

He said the key phrase, “It’s my birthday.”

 

“Happy birthday,” I replied with a smile and bought him a drink.

 

“Look kid,” he said, “this isn’t what you think.” I raised an eyebrow, he must have gotten several wrong impressions. “I’m hiring your services as a gift for a friend of mine. I’m not like that.”

 

I sized him up quickly, he was shorter than me, but more muscular, he had a tattoo on his face and some scars. He overestimated his own strength, skill, and intelligence. I figured I was older than he was by a few years, but my clean-shaven pale and thin look tended to make me seem much younger than I was. I took no steps to change his illusions.

 

I smiled again, “What would you like me to do for your ‘friend’.”

 

“She needs to relax a little, she’s works too hard, and she likes your type. She’s not into guys like me.” I was moderately surprised that there were women who were into slimy tattoo faced idiots. Apparently, he thought I sold my body to my clients, I once did when I was first starting out, but now I’m usually hired to kill husbands. “I need you to keep her mind occupied on something other than work for a while.” This guy was worse than heavy handed, he obviously had a bigger game running but didn’t want to cut me in on it. That was fine, but throwing off such obvious hints and expecting me to miss them, that was just insulting.

 

“After you.”

 

Tattoo-face led me to a VIP lounge upstairs. We were greeted by an extremely voluptuous Twilek and two bodyguards. I knew her on sight, Iliya Menko, Nar Shaddaa’s most beautiful information broker. Of course the other information brokers tended to be Evocii or Nikto but how often can anyone say they are the most anything on a whole planet.

 

“Barton,” she said with a predatory smile, “How did you know it was my birthday? Is he a gift?”

 

I went to her offering my hand, and kissed her fingertips. I decided to treat her like the one of the ladies of Dromund Kaas, it would be different enough for her. “Indeed, I am glad you are finally of legal age.”

 

She laughed, it had a good sound. You can tell a lot about a person from her laugh, hers was strong, easy, unselfconscious, and held no malice. Underneath her femme fatale exterior, she was probably a big softy. Probably.

 

“Come, sit with me, we will celebrate.” I sat next to her as a gentleman would, she draped herself on me as a blanket would, perhaps she didn’t want to be treated like one of the ladies of Dromund Kaas. “What shall I call you?”

 

“How about Coren?” I suggested.

 

“Why Coren?”

 

“I think it would be nice to hear you scream it.” Her eyes widened for a split second. Barton grinned, and poured her a drink. She accepted it and he attempted to talk business.

 

“Iliya, about that item I was trying to acquire,” he said sounding impatient. Tattoo-face was on a deadline.

 

“It’s here,” she smiled at Barton, “We can talk about price when I’m through with your friend that IS why you brought him isn’t it? Now, leave us,” she said to Barton and her bodyguards. They all left reluctantly, Iliya got up to make the room more private, but rather than turning up the seduction, she grew serious. “You are in danger, Barton will not hold up his end of whatever deal you have.” I knew it, big softy.

 

“What do you mean?” I wanted her to tell me more about Tattoo-face, he seemed like a minor slime ball but if she already knew about him, he might be more dangerous than he looked.

 

“He’s a con-artist, he has no intention of paying me for the data I have, and he probably wants to use you to incapacitate me long enough to steal it.” She was still holding her drink, I put my hand over the top.

 

“That’s probably poisoned or drugged.”

 

She dumped it and brought out a datachip, “Once he has this, he will kill you to get rid of you.”

 

“He was probably hoping you would blame me for the theft and have you kill me.”

 

“Probably,” She agreed, “I would not see you hurt in all of this. It is a deeper game than you can possibly guess.”

 

I was intrigued but I wasn’t going to trust her just because she said she wanted to save me. “You are not my client, he is.” I said plainly, “He hasn’t stabbed me in the back so far. So, convince me not to tell him what you just said.” Her face displayed first surprise, disappointment, then rage.

 

She telegraphed her attack long before she decided to use it. A sharp needle coated with sticky green ichor. I managed to capture both of her arms without letting her scratch me, I held her back against my chest and I pinned her legs with mine. It was a comfortable wrestling match. I held her needle-hand above her chest. She tried not to breathe so she wouldn’t get nicked.

 

“Now what does this do?” I asked.

 

She was trying not to panic but she had started to hyperventilate, I eased the needle back so she could speak. “It’s a paralytic. It works almost instantly, but it’s not fatal if you administer an antidote within the first few minutes.”

 

“You’re not doing well at convincing me not to go back to my true employer.”

 

“I told you the truth, but I can’t prove it.” She laughed again, this time bitterly, “I don’t know why I bothered, if you think that man is playing straight with you, you won’t last a week on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

She had a point, I already knew he was a slimy liar. “You can prove it.”

 

“How?” She demanded.

 

“Give me the datachip.” She froze in my arms, “As long as you have it he’ll find a way to get to you, if I have it, I’ll have a bargaining chip for him to keep me alive.”

 

“How will you say you obtained it, I don’t just give things away, I have a reputation to maintain.” There she was pinned by a stranger hired to seduce her, a poisoned needle an inch above her skin, and she wanted to make sure no one would think she was cheap, I liked her.

 

“I’ll just say you gave it to me as a bonus for a job well done,” I whispered softly in her ear.

 

She laughed, “No one is that good.”

 

I took the hand with the needle away from her chest and forced her to drop it in a vase. Then I proved her wrong.

 

***

 

I walked out of the VIP lounge and greeted Tattoo-face, the bodyguards were missing, I wondered how he got rid of them.

 

Tattoo-face walked with me to the main area. “Great job kid, I’m sure my friend is real happy. I’m just going to go back up there and wish her a happy birthday. Wait here and I’ll be back with your payment.” He turned and walked back up the stairs.

 

“No need to pay me,” I called after him, those words stopped him cold, no one ever said that on Nar Shaddaa, “Iliya was so pleased she gave me a nice little bonus.” I flashed the datachip at him. “She said it’s worth something substantial, I guess I’ll have to find out.”

 

Tattoo-face looked angry for a moment then he burst into fake laughter.

 

“Kid, you surprise me, you might just survive this business.” He regarded me with a far more calculating expression than I thought he could muster, “I admit, I was going to steal that data and let you take the fall, but you’ve got potential. Now, only a few people even understand the value of the data on that chip. You have the chip, I have the knowhow, you help me make the big score and I’ll cut you in 10%. Partners. What do you say?”

 

“After you.”

 

***

 

Tattoo-face had a nice ship, it was old but fast and good for any number of illicit purposes. He had one crewmember, a big alien that called himself “the Mountain.” I’m tall, taller than most, but that guy, he earned his name.

 

Our next stop was Tatooine, here I had to hand Tattoo-face my bargaining chip while he went to a bandit cave and tried to obtain the next piece of this puzzle. I assumed “the Mountain” would kill me as soon as Tattoo-face gave him the signal. The only good thing about fighting a man two feet taller than you is that he can’t sneak up on you or so I thought. I had been pacing the length of the ship but somehow he was always behind me, I decided to stay on the bridge. Finally, the comm beeped, when he turned to answer it I brought out my secret weapon, I only hoped it worked on giant aliens.

 

The Mountain fell against the nav with surprisingly little noise, the comm kept beeping. Iliya’s paralytic sure was potent.

 

“Brother!” I heard a shout, yet another giant alien ran at me. I scratched him with the needle I had just used but he brushed it off. He swung at me and missed, his fist dented the durasteel bulkhead. I started running. There aren’t many places to hide on a ship, but there are fewer places to hide on Tattooine. I slipped into a crawlspace used for engine maintenance, I hoped he wasn’t crazy enough to rip the ship apart just to get to me. Turns out, he was more than crazy enough to rip the ship apart just to get to me. The ship had an interesting set of features, the alien was kind enough to demonstrate them to me.

 

First, the ship had giant engines this thing was really fast. Second, the entire ship was configurable, rooms could be rearranged, walls torn out, secret rooms created, it was amazing. Unfortunately, the removable panels made it much easier for the crazy alien to get to me. I reached what looked like the last wall panel and crazy giant alien was still coming. I dropped my shiv into my hand, his skin looked leathery but I thought his neck might be vulnerable, if I could reach that high. The alien approached me slowly now, savoring the kill, he stared at me with, I assume, alien hate. Then he fell over, the paralytic finally overcame his rage. I blew out a breath with relief then I stabbed him in the neck just to be safe.

 

Iliya had saved my life three times so far, I should have bought her dinner.

 

I looked for more giant aliens but none appeared, I couldn’t begin to imagine fighting more than two of those guys. The comm was still beeping but I ignored it. I looked at the console, I had watched Tattoo-face fly, and I had flown other ships, I took some guesses and the ship shuddered and rose from the landing pad. It was a bumpy flight but I’d get the hang of it eventually. It took more than an hour to drag the giant aliens to the airlock. Once their bodies were safely in space I leaned against the bulkhead of my new ship. The comm still beeped and I finally felt ready to answer.

 

“Kid,” Tattoo-face said sounding grumpy, “what’s the deal, this chip Iliya gave you has fake data on it.” Iliya had played all of us, I threw my head back and laughed.

 

“I guess she got us,” I said still grinning.

 

“I guess so. Where’s the Mountain?”

 

“Same place as me,” I said stretching, “floating in space, only difference is I’m inside the ship.”

 

He spluttered and swore in several languages I didn’t recognize. “If you killed him, his older brothers will come for you.” I shuddered at the idea of the alien having more brothers but I smiled at the little holo-projection.

 

“First of all, they’ll think you killed him.” I said and watched his face grow even angrier, “Second of all.” I disconnected the call and laughed again. I didn’t know what would happen to Tattoo-face, but someone would kill him eventually.

 

I reviewed the ship logs, as I suspected Tattoo-face had stolen this ship from someone else who had stolen this ship from someone else. If I had a conscience, it would be clear.

 

I plotted a course for Hutta, going back to Nar Shaddaa right away would be stupid, the comm beeped again. I made a face, there was no need to rehash who won today, but I thought Tattoo-face might have something funny to say so I answered. An earnest looking human woman appeared.

 

“Skavak?” she asked anxiously.

 

“I don’t know any Skavaks ma’am. Wrong number.” I reached over to turn off the comm.

 

“Wait please, he goes by a dozen names, he’s tall, muscular, tattoo on his face, rough voice.”

 

“Stupid lying scheming womanizer?” I asked.

 

She paused with a hand to her throat, “Perhaps, do you have his cargo?”

 

“I have his ship.”

 

“Please, you must get his cargo to me, it’s important.”

 

“What were you giving him for it?”

 

“It’s nothing of any value, and the cargo is no use to you.”

 

“I find it hard to believe that ‘Skavak’ or whoever he is was transporting worthless cargo in exchange for worthless goods.”

 

“The cargo is not worthless,” she said angrily, “It’s just no use to you. Please, find it on your ship, you’ll see. Call me at this frequency when you have.” She ended the call. I frowned and stood, the ship was ripped to the bulkhead, and there was almost nowhere to hide cargo. I went back to the spot where “the Mountain 2” fell. His blood was still there, I’d have to clean that later. I examined what I thought was an exterior hull piece, it wasn’t. I grabbed what looked like a release lever and the wall came away. Twelve children stared up at me with terrified eyes. They were filthy, starving, and the space smelled terrible, I’m surprised they had enough air to breath.

 

I grew up on Korriban. I’ve seen kids their age who can kill a fully trained soldier with a thought. I’ve seen kids their age who could pick up a practice sword and cut off your arms before you could raise them in surrender. I’ve also seen kids their age who couldn’t do those things and the adults would force the kids who could to kill them. I harbor no illusions about the innocence and helplessness of children and frankly I don’t like them, but most of what they do wrong is because someone older or bigger made them do it.

 

I called the woman back and started yelling, “You buy kids? You filthy b****. You think I’d just hand them over to you? If I find out you buy kids after this I will come after you, stab you, make sure you survive then come back and stab you again.” I might have been a little overworked, my threats were hollow since I didn’t know where she was, and they were pretty lame too but she seemed to take them seriously, at least she didn’t laugh at me.

 

“I don’t buy them, I’m trying to save them.” She pleaded, “They’re Force-sensitive, I’m trying to take them somewhere safe.”

 

“Korriban?”

 

“No, of course not!” She looked offended.

 

“The Jedi?” She looked uncomfortable, “It might be best if you don’t know where they go.”

 

I nodded, that was true of everything. “Ok, where am I going?”

 

“Our meeting place was Coruscant, I can meet you at the hangar.”

 

“No,” I replied, “Wherever he expected to meet you we need to meet somewhere else.”

 

She nodded, “Ord Mantell, it’s my homeworld.”

 

“Does he know that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good, send me the coordinates.”

 

I sat back and pondered the odds. Tattoo-face could be working with the woman to get his ship back, she didn’t seem to know he was slime. Then again a woman who tries to save Force-sensitive kids could probably find something redeemable in anyone. If I didn’t give her the kids I’d still have to figure out what to do with them. I sighed and plotted a course to Ord Mantell. How was it I managed to steal a ship from that slimy jerk the one time he was doing something decent?

 

***

 

I landed on Ord Mantell. From the looks of it, there was some fighting going, possibly a civil war. I wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. The kids were better than they were when I found them. I dumped some rations I found near them and filled some buckets and tubs with water.

 

“Use these.” Was all I had to say, they took care of themselves.

 

Earnest-lady was waiting for us with another woman. I herded the children toward her with shooing motions. She seemed surprised they looked clean-ish and fed-ish.

 

“Thank you,” she said, she watched the other woman cover the children with blankets and feed them.

 

“You’re welcome.” I turned to walk away.

 

“Wait,” she called, “He wanted that,” she pointed at a droid, “It must be worth something, I don’t know what, but it’s been in my family for years. You should take it.”

 

I shrugged, “Keep it, you might need it as a bargaining chip when he comes after you.” Her eyes widened, she hadn’t considered it. “If I were you I’d leave this place and never come back. Leave the droid he can steal it from someone else in your family.”

 

She nodded, “I was planning to leave, there’s a war brewing here.” She eyed me speculatively, and not in the way that I prefer. “I’m not going to stop trying to save them,” she nodded at the children.

 

I shrugged. I’m not in the business of trying to talk women out of being crazy.

 

“Would you be willing to work with us again?” she saw my expression then added quickly, “Next time for pay. Some of our network is waiting inside, if you meet with them we can set up a way to contact you that won’t give away your identity or whereabouts.”

 

I thought about it, I didn’t like how Tattoo-face had transported the kids, I had a feeling that wasn’t unusual. I bowed a little.

 

“After you.”

 

 

 

Edited August 13, 2012 by kabeone

[Morgani]

After You

(Takes place several years before Chapter 1 begins)

 

 

The dark haired man walked into the cantina, he immediately scanned the room. He had been warned about Iliya, a little too late for a good plan but he was used to improvising. He had planned to seduce her, her hunger for men was well known, but he was not her type. The data she was selling was too valuable for him to buy outright and she was too sharp to steal from directly. He would need a partner to win her over.

 

The problem with partners is they always wanted a cut of the big score, and he was not going to share. He decided to hire a contractor, someone who worked for a straight fee and did not know there was a bigger game going on around him. He found the perfect mark, the man came with a long list of satisfied lady-customers but he never took advantage of any of them, they were all alive with their fortunes intact. The fact that he was still working a job trading on his face meant he could not see the big picture. He was young, pretty, and dumb. Perfect.

 

***

 

Nar Shaddaa was built for people like me. No one cared how you made your credits as long as you had them, no one cared what you bought as long as you paid, and everything you could ever want was for sale.

 

I was meeting a new client, arranged in the usual way. I liked to show up early to meetings dressed to impress, it gave people a chance to get the wrong impression. I have to admit I was not expecting a man; my clients were almost exclusively older women. The man approached, I was wearing the key signals, a blue handkerchief and a green ring.

 

He said the key phrase, “It’s my birthday.”

 

“Happy birthday,” I replied with a smile and bought him a drink.

 

“Look kid,” he said, “this isn’t what you think.” I raised an eyebrow, he must have gotten several wrong impressions. “I’m hiring your services as a gift for a friend of mine. I’m not like that.”

 

I sized him up quickly, he was shorter than me, but more muscular, he had a tattoo on his face and some scars. He overestimated his own strength, skill, and intelligence. I figured I was older than he was by a few years, but my clean-shaven pale and thin look tended to make me seem much younger than I was. I took no steps to change his illusions.

 

I smiled again, “What would you like me to do for your ‘friend’.”

 

“She needs to relax a little, she’s works too hard, and she likes your type. She’s not into guys like me.” I was moderately surprised that there were women who were into slimy tattoo faced idiots. Apparently, he thought I sold my body to my clients, I once did when I was first starting out, but now I’m usually hired to kill husbands. “I need you to keep her mind occupied on something other than work for a while.” This guy was worse than heavy handed, he obviously had a bigger game running but didn’t want to cut me in on it. That was fine, but throwing off such obvious hints and expecting me to miss them, that was just insulting.

 

“After you.”

 

Tattoo-face led me to a VIP lounge upstairs. We were greeted by an extremely voluptuous Twilek and two bodyguards. I knew her on sight, Iliya Menko, Nar Shaddaa’s most beautiful information broker. Of course the other information brokers tended to be Evocii or Nikto but how often can anyone say they are the most anything on a whole planet.

 

“Barton,” she said with a predatory smile, “How did you know it was my birthday? Is he a gift?”

 

I went to her offering my hand, and kissed her fingertips. I decided to treat her like the one of the ladies of Dromund Kaas, it would be different enough for her. “Indeed, I am glad you are finally of legal age.”

 

She laughed, it had a good sound. You can tell a lot about a person from her laugh, hers was strong, easy, unselfconscious, and held no malice. Underneath her femme fatale exterior, she was probably a big softy. Probably.

 

“Come, sit with me, we will celebrate.” I sat next to her as a gentleman would, she draped herself on me as a blanket would, perhaps she didn’t want to be treated like one of the ladies of Dromund Kaas. “What shall I call you?”

 

“How about Coren?” I suggested.

 

“Why Coren?”

 

“I think it would be nice to hear you scream it.” Her eyes widened for a split second. Barton grinned, and poured her a drink. She accepted it and he attempted to talk business.

 

“Iliya, about that item I was trying to acquire,” he said sounding impatient. Tattoo-face was on a deadline.

 

“It’s here,” she smiled at Barton, “We can talk about price when I’m through with your friend that IS why you brought him isn’t it? Now, leave us,” she said to Barton and her bodyguards. They all left reluctantly, Iliya got up to make the room more private, but rather than turning up the seduction, she grew serious. “You are in danger, Barton will not hold up his end of whatever deal you have.” I knew it, big softy.

 

“What do you mean?” I wanted her to tell me more about Tattoo-face, he seemed like a minor slime ball but if she already knew about him, he might be more dangerous than he looked.

 

“He’s a con-artist, he has no intention of paying me for the data I have, and he probably wants to use you to incapacitate me long enough to steal it.” She was still holding her drink, I put my hand over the top.

 

“That’s probably poisoned or drugged.”

 

She dumped it and brought out a datachip, “Once he has this, he will kill you to get rid of you.”

 

“He was probably hoping you would blame me for the theft and have you kill me.”

 

“Probably,” She agreed, “I would not see you hurt in all of this. It is a deeper game than you can possibly guess.”

 

I was intrigued but I wasn’t going to trust her just because she said she wanted to save me. “You are not my client, he is.” I said plainly, “He hasn’t stabbed me in the back so far. So, convince me not to tell him what you just said.” Her face displayed first surprise, disappointment, then rage.

 

She telegraphed her attack long before she decided to use it. A sharp needle coated with sticky green ichor. I managed to capture both of her arms without letting her scratch me, I held her back against my chest and I pinned her legs with mine. It was a comfortable wrestling match. I held her needle-hand above her chest. She tried not to breathe so she wouldn’t get nicked.

 

“Now what does this do?” I asked.

 

She was trying not to panic but she had started to hyperventilate, I eased the needle back so she could speak. “It’s a paralytic. It works almost instantly, but it’s not fatal if you administer an antidote within the first few minutes.”

 

“You’re not doing well at convincing me not to go back to my true employer.”

 

“I told you the truth, but I can’t prove it.” She laughed again, this time bitterly, “I don’t know why I bothered, if you think that man is playing straight with you, you won’t last a week on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

She had a point, I already knew he was a slimy liar. “You can prove it.”

 

“How?” She demanded.

 

“Give me the datachip.” She froze in my arms, “As long as you have it he’ll find a way to get to you, if I have it, I’ll have a bargaining chip for him to keep me alive.”

 

“How will you say you obtained it, I don’t just give things away, I have a reputation to maintain.” There she was pinned by a stranger hired to seduce her, a poisoned needle an inch above her skin, and she wanted to make sure no one would think she was cheap, I liked her.

 

“I’ll just say you gave it to me as a bonus for a job well done,” I whispered softly in her ear.

 

She laughed, “No one is that good.”

 

I took the hand with the needle away from her chest and forced her to drop it in a vase. Then I proved her wrong.

 

***

 

I walked out of the VIP lounge and greeted Tattoo-face, the bodyguards were missing, I wondered how he got rid of them.

 

Tattoo-face walked with me to the main area. “Great job kid, I’m sure my friend is real happy. I’m just going to go back up there and wish her a happy birthday. Wait here and I’ll be back with your payment.” He turned and walked back up the stairs.

 

“No need to pay me,” I called after him, those words stopped him cold, no one ever said that on Nar Shaddaa, “Iliya was so pleased she gave me a nice little bonus.” I flashed the datachip at him. “She said it’s worth something substantial, I guess I’ll have to find out.”

 

Tattoo-face looked angry for a moment then he burst into fake laughter.

 

“Kid, you surprise me, you might just survive this business.” He regarded me with a far more calculating expression than I thought he could muster, “I admit, I was going to steal that data and let you take the fall, but you’ve got potential. Now, only a few people even understand the value of the data on that chip. You have the chip, I have the knowhow, you help me make the big score and I’ll cut you in 10%. Partners. What do you say?”

 

“After you.”

 

***

 

Tattoo-face had a nice ship, it was old but fast and good for any number of illicit purposes. He had one crewmember, a big alien that called himself “the Mountain.” I’m tall, taller than most, but that guy, he earned his name.

 

Our next stop was Tatooine, here I had to hand Tattoo-face my bargaining chip while he went to a bandit cave and tried to obtain the next piece of this puzzle. I assumed “the Mountain” would kill me as soon as Tattoo-face gave him the signal. The only good thing about fighting a man two feet taller than you is that he can’t sneak up on you or so I thought. I had been pacing the length of the ship but somehow he was always behind me, I decided to stay on the bridge. Finally, the comm beeped, when he turned to answer it I brought out my secret weapon, I only hoped it worked on giant aliens.

 

The Mountain fell against the nav with surprisingly little noise, the comm kept beeping. Iliya’s paralytic sure was potent.

 

“Brother!” I heard a shout, yet another giant alien ran at me. I scratched him with the needle I had just used but he brushed it off. He swung at me and missed, his fist dented the durasteel bulkhead. I started running. There aren’t many places to hide on a ship, but there are fewer places to hide on Tattooine. I slipped into a crawlspace used for engine maintenance, I hoped he wasn’t crazy enough to rip the ship apart just to get to me. Turns out, he was more than crazy enough to rip the ship apart just to get to me. The ship had an interesting set of features, the alien was kind enough to demonstrate them to me.

 

First, the ship had giant engines this thing was really fast. Second, the entire ship was configurable, rooms could be rearranged, walls torn out, secret rooms created, it was amazing. Unfortunately, the removable panels made it much easier for the crazy alien to get to me. I reached what looked like the last wall panel and crazy giant alien was still coming. I dropped my shiv into my hand, his skin looked leathery but I thought his neck might be vulnerable, if I could reach that high. The alien approached me slowly now, savoring the kill, he stared at me with, I assume, alien hate. Then he fell over, the paralytic finally overcame his rage. I blew out a breath with relief then I stabbed him in the neck just to be safe.

 

Iliya had saved my life three times so far, I should have bought her dinner.

 

I looked for more giant aliens but none appeared, I couldn’t begin to imagine fighting more than two of those guys. The comm was still beeping but I ignored it. I looked at the console, I had watched Tattoo-face fly, and I had flown other ships, I took some guesses and the ship shuddered and rose from the landing pad. It was a bumpy flight but I’d get the hang of it eventually. It took more than an hour to drag the giant aliens to the airlock. Once their bodies were safely in space I leaned against the bulkhead of my new ship. The comm still beeped and I finally felt ready to answer.

 

“Kid,” Tattoo-face said sounding grumpy, “what’s the deal, this chip Iliya gave you has fake data on it.” Iliya had played all of us, I threw my head back and laughed.

 

“I guess she got us,” I said still grinning.

 

“I guess so. Where’s the Mountain?”

 

“Same place as me,” I said stretching, “floating in space, only difference is I’m inside the ship.”

 

He spluttered and swore in several languages I didn’t recognize. “If you killed him, his older brothers will come for you.” I shuddered at the idea of the alien having more brothers but I smiled at the little holo-projection.

 

“First of all, they’ll think you killed him.” I said and watched his face grow even angrier, “Second of all.” I disconnected the call and laughed again. I didn’t know what would happen to Tattoo-face, but someone would kill him eventually.

 

I reviewed the ship logs, as I suspected Tattoo-face had stolen this ship from someone else who had stolen this ship from someone else. If I had a conscience, it would be clear.

 

I plotted a course for Hutta, going back to Nar Shaddaa right away would be stupid, the comm beeped again. I made a face, there was no need to rehash who won today, but I thought Tattoo-face might have something funny to say so I answered. An earnest looking human woman appeared.

 

“Skavak?” she asked anxiously.

 

“I don’t know any Skavaks ma’am. Wrong number.” I reached over to turn off the comm.

 

“Wait please, he goes by a dozen names, he’s tall, muscular, tattoo on his face, rough voice.”

 

“Stupid lying scheming womanizer?” I asked.

 

She paused with a hand to her throat, “Perhaps, do you have his cargo?”

 

“I have his ship.”

 

“Please, you must get his cargo to me, it’s important.”

 

“What were you giving him for it?”

 

“It’s nothing of any value, and the cargo is no use to you.”

 

“I find it hard to believe that ‘Skavak’ or whoever he is was transporting worthless cargo in exchange for worthless goods.”

 

“The cargo is not worthless,” she said angrily, “It’s just no use to you. Please, find it on your ship, you’ll see. Call me at this frequency when you have.” She ended the call. I frowned and stood, the ship was ripped to the bulkhead, and there was almost nowhere to hide cargo. I went back to the spot where “the Mountain 2” fell. His blood was still there, I’d have to clean that later. I examined what I thought was an exterior hull piece, it wasn’t. I grabbed what looked like a release lever and the wall came away. Twelve children stared up at me with terrified eyes. They were filthy, starving, and the space smelled terrible, I’m surprised they had enough air to breath.

 

I grew up on Korriban. I’ve seen kids their age who can kill a fully trained soldier with a thought. I’ve seen kids their age who could pick up a practice sword and cut off your arms before you could raise them in surrender. I’ve also seen kids their age who couldn’t do those things and the adults would force the kids who could to kill them. I harbor no illusions about the innocence and helplessness of children and frankly I don’t like them, but most of what they do wrong is because someone older or bigger made them do it.

 

I called the woman back and started yelling, “You buy kids? You filthy b****. You think I’d just hand them over to you? If I find out you buy kids after this I will come after you, stab you, make sure you survive then come back and stab you again.” I might have been a little overworked, my threats were hollow since I didn’t know where she was, and they were pretty lame too but she seemed to take them seriously, at least she didn’t laugh at me.

 

“I don’t buy them, I’m trying to save them.” She pleaded, “They’re Force-sensitive, I’m trying to take them somewhere safe.”

 

“Korriban?”

 

“No, of course not!” She looked offended.

 

“The Jedi?” She looked uncomfortable, “It might be best if you don’t know where they go.”

 

I nodded, that was true of everything. “Ok, where am I going?”

 

“Our meeting place was Coruscant, I can meet you at the hangar.”

 

“No,” I replied, “Wherever he expected to meet you we need to meet somewhere else.”

 

She nodded, “Ord Mantell, it’s my homeworld.”

 

“Does he know that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good, send me the coordinates.”

 

I sat back and pondered the odds. Tattoo-face could be working with the woman to get his ship back, she didn’t seem to know he was slime. Then again a woman who tries to save Force-sensitive kids is could probably find something redeemable in anyone. If I didn’t give her the kids I’d still have to figure out what to do with them. I sighed and plotted a course to Ord Mantell. How was it I managed to steal a ship from that slimy jerk the one time he was doing something decent?

 

***

 

I landed on Ord Mantell. From the looks of it, there was some fighting going, possibly a civil war. I wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. The kids were better than they were when I found them. I dumped some rations I found near them and filled some buckets and tubs with water.

 

“Use these.” Was all I had to say, they took care of themselves.

 

Earnest-lady was waiting for us with another woman. I herded the children toward her with shooing motions. She seemed surprised they looked clean-ish and fed-ish.

 

“Thank you,” she said, she watched the other woman cover the children with blankets and feed them.

 

“You’re welcome.” I turned to walk away.

 

“Wait,” she called, “He wanted that,” she pointed at a droid, “It must be worth something, I don’t know what, but it’s been in my family for years. You should take it.”

 

I shrugged, “Keep it, you might need it as a bargaining chip when he comes after you.” Her eyes widened, she hadn’t considered it. “If I were you I’d leave this place and never come back. Leave the droid he can steal it from someone else in your family.”

 

She nodded, “I was planning to leave, there’s a war brewing here.” She eyed me speculatively, and not in the way that I prefer. “I’m not going to stop trying to save them,” she nodded at the children.

 

I shrugged. I’m not in the business of trying to talk women out of being crazy.

 

“Would you be willing to work with us again?” she saw my expression then added quickly, “Next time for pay. Some of our network is waiting inside, if you meet with them we can set up a way to contact you that won’t give away your identity or whereabouts.”

 

I thought about it, I didn’t like how Tattoo-face had transported the kids, I had a feeling that wasn’t unusual. I bowed a little.

 

“After you.”

 

 

 

 

I really love this thread *queue cute kitten splayed over a ball of yarn picture*

 

Seriously, I want to possess a fraction of your talent. Just a little. I'll treat it good and everything.

 

Now I have to wait for more? *pouts*