Event: Jirano
The security station, like all of the other buildings, was an imposing dark-grey structure defined by its harsh edges and complete lack of aesthetics. It was an uninviting place covered in thick armour, giving it the appearance of some immobile tank rooted into the ground. Droplets of water trickled from each corner of its roof, snow heated until it ran down the sides by internal heating units. It was easy to tell which buildings had been for the imperials and which for the slaves. This one in particular, as evidenced by the numerous tiny cells and in-built security measures, had been a processing centre for new arrivals. Instead, it now served as both jail, armory and office of Marshal Tycho. Jirano counted no less than six deputies on guard in the main foyer, while some sat hunched over cold metal desks filling out some paperwork or other. He was able to steal a glance at one as he passed: the deputy was composing a recollection of the trial on a small datapad. Each doorway was watched by the unfeeling optical lens of an auto-turret mounted onto the ceiling, one either side of each entrance. He could hear muffled blaster shots from another room, interrupted periodically by a stern, assertive voice yelling something about not being able to hit the side of a bantha at point blank range. The rhythmic blaster volleys repeated themselves time after time. Further within, rows of cells on either side of a corridor with little more to offer than uncomfortable metal beds and one toilet each, remained empty. All but one. Jirano peered through the rippling force field and recognised one of the men from Lobar's cantina last night. He lay sprawled over the bed, mumbling incoherently and groaning.
"Broke the curfew," explained the deputy, two steps ahead of Jirano.
"What's the punishment for that?" Jirano asked curiously.
"A nice long nap in there, a one month ban from the cantina and a week of shovelling," Jirano's escort elaborated. He glanced over his shoulder at the Nautolan, with a smirk. "We don't throw people to the wolves for everything, you know."
Marshal Tycho sat patiently behind his desk as Jirano spoke, his fingers interlocked. Jirano regarded him. He was a broad-shouldered man, about the same height as himself, his silver hair and beard as meticulously ordered as his desk. Everything had a place. The Marshal's emerald eyes stared unblinkingly, as if they were lasers cutting right through Jirano. To one side, Boshi stood leaning against the wall with her arms folded. A faded imperial officer's longcoat hung loosely from a rack in the corner and the Marshal wore only a simple black shirt, the sleeves stretched thin around the Marshal's thick arms. He had the look of a man who was always strong, powerful, but only now starting to show signs of softness around the gut and wrinkles spreading across his calloused hands. The Marshal raised an eyebrow and leaned forward over the desk when Jirano had finished.
"Ah, well, don't let me get in the way of your busy schedule," Tycho replied bluntly. "Take a seat, Jirano Namora," he said with a gesture to the chair in front of his desk. It wasn't a request. Jirano suppressed a sigh of frustration, painfully aware that every passing second spent here was another second he wasn't on his way to help find Jaden. Reluctantly, but with an impetuousness in his stride, Jirano stepped forward and sank into the chair, meeting the Marshal's icy gaze.
"Now how about you tell me just what the hell you're talking about," Tycho demanded. He spoke slowly, each word measured, but not softly - he projected his voice loud and clear, with the conviction of a man unwilling to compromise on his own turf.
"Very well," Jirano acceded. "A member of our crew called from our ship," he began to explain.
"Vance Kest's ship," interrupted Boshi.
"Right... He called to tell us Serina's son, Jaden, had gotten lost in the woods and they were going to search for him - including one of our erm... passengers, who has a young daughter. They've sent the ship here under droid control with her daughter on board. I think she felt it was safer for her here."
"That I can guarantee," Tycho confirmed, no hint of doubt in his voice. "Boshi, tell the sentries to stand down. I'm clearing the Phantom for landing on pad two. Send an inspection team over to check it out."
"You got it boss," said Boshi.
"Marshal, is that strictly necessary? I assure you we aren't planning any surprises and there's no one on board other than the young girl and droid. They're no threat to you."
"Then you've got nothing to worry about," replied Tycho pointedly. "As for the situation at Serina's farm, I'll dispatch a squad to check it out and confirm what's happening. I don't like to lose anyone, but if they've gone into Utanxi territory they're as good as dead. It's my job to make sure we don't lose anyone else, including guests such as yourself."
"We can handle ourselves," countered Jirano confidently. "And I don't abandon my people to fight alone."
The edge of Tycho's mouth cracked into the hint of a smile for the briefest of moments. "I respect that. Nevertheless, I assure you my people are well trained and have experience fighting Utanxi. I will permit you to go with them to find your friends, if you wish, once you've answered my questions."
"What else do you want to know?"
"Three things. I heard from a friend at the farm that Vance Kest died saving your ass. I'd like to know about that. Firstly, what happened to his body? If he was killed by stormtroopers with standard-issue E-11 blasters, then it wouldn't have been disintegrated."
"We brought it on board the ship when we escaped Orn Duront. Kest's astromech was damaged when we took fire from a star destroyer orbiting Bontooine. I believe it was trying to plot a course here, since Kest was meant to arrive with those power cells days ago from what I was told. The hyperdrive was damaged too and we managed to reach Nar Shaddaa on sublight engines alone. We landed and set out to repair the ship as quickly as possible."
Jirano considered his next words carefully. "To tell you the truth, this is where our story gets a little... insane."
"Go on," insisted Tycho, his expression betraying none of his thoughts. Jirano sensed his suspicion.
"For lack of a better idea, we kept Kest's body in the freezer to preserve it until we could find somewhere suitable to lay him to rest... he saved our lives, after all. I can speak for myself and my niece with certainty that we felt we owed him that much. We even contacted some New Republic operatives about taking his body away, given his reputation as a rebel war hero, but as far as I know they never arrived. Instead, a mandalorian bounty hunter showed up to collect a bounty on Kest placed by Gordulla the Hutt."
"It was no secret that he was a wanted man," affirmed the Marshal. "I knew Gordulla placed a hit on him some time ago. In fact, he spent two months lying low here after that."
"We had no idea at the time. Actually... we went to Gordulla the Hutt looking for work. We needed money to fix the ship. It was a mistake, to say the least. Next thing we know, the mandalorian turns up with... Kest's severed head. Apparently the dock master looking after our ship didn't so much as lift a finger to stop him waltzing on board and taking whatever he wanted."
"You get what you pay for in a wretched hive of scum like Nar Shaddaa. Can anyone else corroborate your story?"
"Every one of my crew can confirm this but you'll have to speak to them yourself if you don't believe me. If that's not good enough, I'm sure our battle droid's memory core could be downloaded and replayed to confirm everything I've said."
The Marshal nodded slightly. "I might just do that. So, then what happened?"
Jirano sighed and reclined in the chair. "Long story short... we killed Gordulla the Hutt."
Tycho frowned, tilting his head to one side as though examining a strange creature. "Interesting. Another guest of ours informed me yesterday that imperial remnants attacked Bontooine and one of Gordulla's rivals had usurped his throne. Let's say I believe it
was you that made this coup possible after escaping the imps - that means your crew is pretty damn dangerous, doesn't it?"
Jirano felt his heart skip a beat, but managed to avoid showing the lance of doubt that pierced his heart and exploded through his chest like a web of lightning. The Marshal, as ever, expressed nothing outwardly, yet Jirano sensed a mixture of emotions. He was still suspicious, but behind that there was something else... a glimmer of respect. Underneath that, something deeper, something hesitant. Jirano couldn't quite figure out what it was, but the Marshal was apprehensive. He sensed no fear nor did he get the impression that he felt threatened.
"Like I said, we can handle ourselves," Jirano reaffirmed.
"That leads me to my second question. So there you are with one of the fastest starships in the outer rim, loaded with a shipment of power cells that could make a pretty penny on the right world. Why come here? Why not just disappear into the galaxy and take an easy pay day? Why help us?"
"To be honest, we needed a place to hide after what happened with Gordulla. My niece fixed up Kest's droid and it plugged in these coordinates. We had no idea you were even here. It just seemed like a safe bet if this is where Kest was going to bring us anyway after saving our lives. We do need a place to lie low and believe me, we've got no intentions of causing any trouble."
Tycho leaned back in his chair for the first time. "I get the impression you're not lying to me, Jirano Namora, which I appreciate. If you were, somehow I doubt you'd be stupid enough to make up this ridiculous story when it'd be far easier to sell something simpler. I have my reservations. Nonetheless, it does explain why Vance was late and lines up with what I know about Gordulla. Either that, or you're a very convincing liar and you came here looking for an easy target after killing Vance and stealing his ship. I suspect I'll never know for sure, but I'm inclined to believe you...
for now. The fact remains that whatever your intentions, you did come here and give us those power cells without even demanding payment. That's not nothing."
Jirano felt some of the tension in his body release, relieved. Despite that, he still sensed the apprehension behind the Marshal's cold glare. "What's the third thing?"
"I have a way you can prove yourselves friends to us," said Tycho after a pause. "You might've heard we've got problems here. The Utanxi, obviously. But that's not all. There are raiders holed up in the Destroyer ruins south of here. They attack our mining vehicles and steal the ore we rely on for off-world trade. They're always one step ahead of us, even when we change routes. We've lost nine out of the last thirteen shipments."
"I'm surprised you haven't run out of people and vehicles at this rate?"
"That's the thing, they're smart... for raiders. They don't destroy our equipment or kill us. They stun our miners and leave them alive so we can keep digging up valuable ore for them to steal. I've already sent out two teams to hunt them down. I never heard from any of them again. After that, the Mayor forbade me from sending any more of our people, saying we can't afford to lose anyone else... he didn't say anything about sending off-worlders."
There it is, Jirano thought. "So you want us to take care of these raiders for you? I'm not a mercenary."
"No? Yet you went looking for work from one of the worst creatures on this side of the galaxy, then managed to kill him in his own fortress? All I'm asking is for you to help protect good, hard-working folk from opportunistic parasites. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're well compensated for the job, if you accept," said Tycho earnestly. He pulled open a drawer in his desk and retrieved something small. It looked like a coin. He flicked it with his thumb and it span through the air, until Jirano caught it. It was a circular sliver of golden metal, with a strange sigil carved into both sides. "It's one of a kind," explained Tycho. "Show that to any of my guards at the gate and they'll let you come and go without questions. Take it and think about my offer. You'll earn a lot of trust around here if you help us with this problem. Unless you'd like to accept up front?"
Jirano had to resist getting lost in thought; was it worth getting involved, how dangerous were these raiders and how would the others react? He snapped out of it when the Marshal spoke again. "Oh, and I wouldn't mention what happened to Vance around town. It's my job to keep the peace here and make sure people are safe, not launch an intergalactic investigation of crimes that happened on other planets. The regular folk might not see it that way, though. If they think you had anything to do with delivering the severed head of our local hero to the Hutts, things could get ugly. The trial already has emotions running high. A second one will have the people calling for blood."
The unmistakable saucer-shaped silhouette of the Phantom cast a wide shadow over Kest's Hope as it screeched through the air, decreasing in speed as the landing gear extended underneath. The Phantom lurched as it came to a stop next to the ugly, bulky Ghtroc freighter on the landing platform. The engines flickered and died, various vents releasing a hiss of steam and heat as it powered down. Outside the cockpit windows, half a dozen ten-wheeler juggernauts were lined up by the perimeter fence with several people in dirty overalls dotted across them making repairs or detaching refuelling lines. K8 whistled satisfactorily and unplugged from the controls, rotating on the spot and trundling through the vessel. The droid spared a look at Myala, who simply sat in the chair beside the crew terminal, staring at the floor. Her head sagged despondently over her hunched shoulders while she fidgeted nervously with her hands, tearing at the skin around her nails without even realising. K8 hummed sadly, unsure of how to help. Instead, the astromech carried on its way and lowered the boarding ramp, ready to greet the captain.
Lobar's cantina was alive with the sound of voices once more, practically full to capacity after the trial. The mood was grim, feeling closer to a wake than a drinking hole full of music and joy. Everyone was discussing what happened, their voices slick with disgust, anger or both. Some just sulked in the corner by themselves, idly picking at their food without actually eating it. Lyanna and Cara were sat at a table in the middle of the room, sharing a platter of grilled meat liberally coated in spices. Cara was devouring the food and couldn't seem to finish chewing each bite without talking incessantly, spraying a barrage of crumbs all over the table. Lyanna didn't say anything. She just nodded occasionally and pretended to listen to all of the supposedly fascinating insights about the Utanxi as she sipped a mug of warm Lujka wine.
"...That's the thing," continued Cara, her voice muffled by a mouthful of food. "They're not evil, you know. I get why they hate us, they see
us as the invaders! If I could just complete my analysis of..."
Lyanna zoned out again, although she didn't mean to. She just kept thinking about the look on Jevin's face when he agreed to take the Long Walk. She thought about telling Boshi she was going hunting alone and then taking some food to him. He couldn't have gotten far. It was risky, very risky. The last three exiles... she supposed they'd deserved it. Two murderers and a thief trying to steal a transport full of supplies to start a new life somewhere in the south far away from the Utanxi, where the weather was mild and the land ripe for planting. But Jevin? What he did was wrong, but she understood it. Despite that, she also understood why most people were happy with his sentence. It was their way. They never would have lasted this long without Mayor Gor's strict laws and the way he kept everyone working together for the greater good of the community. Lyanna just wasn't sure if it could go on like this forever. Someone else spoke to her, a deep bass-rumble of a voice. She snapped out of her reverie and blinked repeatedly, looking up to find Lobar towering over her with his ever-present grin.
"What? Sorry, what?" She asked.
"I said you look like you need cheering up," repeated Lobar. "How about a hand of pazaak? Maybe this is the time you finally beat me!" Lobar offered heartily.
"Oh, no thanks Lobar. I appreciate it though, really," Lyanna replied wearily. "Why not play with Dalzar? I hear he's been cleaning us out and someone's gotta put a stop to it before we're all broke," she suggested with a hollow smile.
"Maybe those other off-worlders play too," added Cara, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.
"Ah, that they do Cara!" Lobar beamed. "Not very well though, it must be said," he chuckled. "They've got Vance's ship but not his way with the cards."
The three of them stopped talking for a moment, sparing a thought for the late, great Vance Kest.
"Do you think they're here to help us?" Asked Cara after a few seconds, curiosity etched into her gaunt features. "They did bring us those power cells."
Lobar rubbed his baggy dewlap thoughtfully. "Well, I can't rightly say. Don't reckon the Marshal would let 'em stick around if they were troublemakers. As far as I can tell, the only threat they pose is makin' us listen to that awful caterwauling they called singing last night, hah!"
"So you don't think they're dangerous?" Lyanna chimed in.
"Now I didn't say that, just that they seem like decent enough folk. One of them walked in here like a bounty hunter from the old holomovies, covered head to toe in weapons and wearing blood-stained armour. Not one I'd want to face on the wrong side of a blaster."
"A real mercenary!" Cara remarked, her eyes widening as the beginning of a bad idea formed in her mind.
"Cara, no, don't even think about it," said Lyanna. "I know what you're thinking and I told you it's insane."
"But they could help me finally complete my research! I know you all think I'm not playing pazaak with a full deck over here, but this could change everything. I could finally prove to you and the Mayor and everyone else that I'm right!"
"Well, I saw 'em go off to watch the trial," Lobar recounted. "I reckon they'll swing by sooner or later for a drink."
"That settles it! I'm not moving from this seat until I meet them," Cara decided excitedly, almost vibrating with energy.
Lyanna huffed. "Don't be surprised when they also call you crazy. How would you even pay them?"
"I don't know! I'll figure it out. If I'm right then the mayor would have to reward them... wouldn't he?"
"Don't bet on it. We've barely got enough credits saved up as it is," pointed out Lyanna. "If we don't start exporting ore again soon, I don't know what we'll do come next winter."
Lobar slapped them both on the shoulders with his heavy hands. Cara jumped nervously. "Ah, come off it you two! Don't you worry none, we'll be okay! We always get through our problems together and nothin's gonna stop us!"
"I hope you're right," sighed Lyanna. "I really do."
Boshi wasted no time carrying out her orders. She had gathered twelve deputies in a circle in front of the station. They wore the chest plates, vambraces and leg armour taken from stormtroopers, repainted grey. Each carried an E-11 blaster and a sidearm. Boshi herself was armed with a TL-50 heavy repeater. They were the closest thing Boshi had to a family and she would gladly die for each and every one of them.
"Salla, Echeb - the Marshal wants the Phantom thoroughly inspected. Make sure there's no one else hiding on board and they're not smuggling anything dangerous. There's only supposed to be a girl and a droid on board," she instructed to the Bothan and Rodian deputies.
"The rest of you, with me. We're taking a transport up to Serina's place. Our first priority is to ensure that the farm is secure but this may turn into a search and rescue op, so be prepared for Utanxi."
"We bringing Norbert along?" Asked one of the deputies. "We lost too many people to Utanxi poison when Makkel's farm got attacked."
"No, we can't risk him getting killed. We'll take some bacta injectors and a limited supply of Norbert's antidote, but you know how little we have. It'll be enough for one or two of you at most. So don't get hit by any arrows - that's an order," said Boshi, only half-joking. "You know the drill. Keep your eyes on the trees and aim for their legs to slow 'em down if they start charging."
Echeb and Salla nodded before breaking into a light jog towards the landing platforms. The remaining ten deputies checked their weapons and followed Boshi to the fenced vehicle bay next to the station. Seven K79 transports were parked in two rows. The two deputies on watch gave a quick salute and let them inside. Sslassk was standing next to the nearest one.
"Sssshe's good to go, Bossssshi," said Sslassk. "Fixxxxxed that jammed motivator on the turret for you."
"Thanks, Sslassk," Boshi replied appreciatively. "If we run into a full horde, we'll need it."