Star Wars - Tales from the Outer Rim

"Getting Supplies, Part 2"
Chun Li - Pilot/PI
Nazar - 'employee' of Ares Macrotechnology (NPC written by Rylaa)

Location: Somewhere in Yallder, New Plouton
Date: Rheudis 9, 4 ABY

***

Nazar sat by himself in the smokey cantina deep in the heart of the Yallder District of New Plouton. A dirty cup of an unidentifiable liquid was clenched tightly in one pudgy hand. His piglike eyes scanned the crowd of lowlifes and rejects for any potential customers. There were hardend thugs in Mos Eisly on Tatooine that would have thought twice before entering a place like this, a place were the swill was cheap and lives were cheaper. In one corner was a dented holo-projecter that occasionally flashed a gritty image of some Bith band playing offkey music, the place was too rundown to even afford a holographic dancing girl.

While it made Nazar's job harder, a customer had to really want what he had to sell to get it, it made his dealings a lot safer, for the same reasons. The fat human rubbed a hand over his mostly bald head as labored for breath. His weight had been causing him all sorts of problems lately, but he didn't care. He had never taken care of himself other than to indulge in whatever he wanted. Nazar's motto was, "How can you kill a man born to hang?"

Before he had hooked up with his current employers Nazar had been a well known fence operating out of Thanatos. Microelectronics and the like had been his speciality. Once a trained and certified droid mechanic, the corpulant man had an eye for seperating the good from the bad, yet paying equally low for each. Then his new boss had found him, and set him up with a steady paycheck just for sitting in this dump dispencing the various products the company made.

These products ranged from subspace tracking devices no larger than a dart to listening devices to gadgets designed specifically to foil everything else. He knew they weren't the best made in the universe, but they were cheap and as far as Nazar knew he was the only hawk in New Plouton that sold the military grade stuff, not the much weakened civilian models.

Li was back in Yallder, but she had taken the precaution of a disguise this time. Some artificial skin gave her face the impression of a burn victim, with lots of scar tissue. Given that she still had a slight limp, it was a good disguise. She had heared that there was a guy in here that also sold the devices she needed.

She did almost turn back when she entered. This was the worse place she had ever seen. Luckily she had her blaster with her, and her vibroblade. This bar looked even worse then the ones she had been in close to bedrock level on Imperial Centre during her intelligence training.

When she ordered she also asked for Nazar and she was directed to a corner booth. With her drink, another one where she wondered if it would be safe to drink it, she walked that way. "You Nazer," she asked the fat man in the corner booth.

Nazar wiped with slack lips with a greasy looking hand. "Yeah," he said in the labored voice of the grossly obese. "Who wants ta know, uh?"

"A potential customer," she answered, sitting down so that she could keep an eye on most of the cantina.

The grin on the man's face was like a canyon. His teeth were yellow and crooked, and his lips had a distinctly unheathly purple color to them. His hard breathing wafted a constant stream of bad breath Li's face. "Good, good! Always nice ta see me some new customers." Nazar took his hand from the trigger of the blazer he had hidden under the table. Though its range was extremely short, it would have cut Li in half had she appeared to be a threat.

His tongue snaked out to lick his lips in a failed attempt to keep them moist. "What is it, I wonder, that you woulda be lookin for, eh? Pretty gal lika you, I give you good prices, yah, best in town." Nazar chuckled at his own joke, though no one else would have gotten it without knowing that he was the only place to get this stuff.

"Good," Li said. Luckily she had dealt with people like this before, and she knew her sense of smell would cut out very soon. "This is what I need," she said, putting a list on the table.

Nazar snatched the list up and glanced at it briefly. "I've gota all these, though I can't be helpin' with tha brands. The people that I am workin for are very particular about what I'm sellin. Ares makes some good stuff, not tha best, but it be good enough." He messily drank from his cup and set it down with a belch. "How soon do you be needin' these?"

"How about now," Li said, "but I know that's probably impossible. When can you get them." She didn't know this Ares company, but in the time he needed to get the devices, she could do some research.

The fat man barked a phlegmy laugh. "No, me dear, it not be impossible, no. I can get you what be on your list quickly, say, in about an hour? Mmhh?"

"Self-destruct sequence if they are discovered," she asked next.

Nazar thought about that for a moment before replying. "Remote controlled detonate or automatic?"

"Automatic," Li said, "that's the easiest, and I cannot monitor them all day long. They work with standard receiver and encyption equipment, I assume?"

"Better than standard, actually," Nazar said. "Ares has top-notch crypto-tech, it do be a little more pricey that way though, yes. But better in the long run. Now then, on to my favorite part, the negotiating of the price. How much do you be willing to spend for my little toys, huh?"

Li named a price, some ten percent lower than the value of the brand devices she had on her list.

Nazar mulled the prices over in his head several times. He knew that the brands Li had asked for were quite expensive and that Ares gear did not really cost as much, but he still wanted to make a hefty profit himself. "That just will no do, my dear, no not at all," he said in his strangely accented Basic. He countered with a price just barely lower than the norm.

"I want to buy the devices, not the factory, okay," Li said, "for that price I can fly out to Imperial centre and get some there." She then named a price a bit higher than her previous one, but not all that much.

The fat man barked that horrible laugh of his again. "Alright then, I'll be takin' that price of yours. It be a bit lower than what I'm used to, but it will do. Where is it that you are staying so that I can be having them delivered? Or would you prefer that I be bringing them here and you can, eh?"

"Bring them to the following address," Li said, giving him the address of another cantina, but much more respectable then this one. Of course, not the one where Zarrak came. That would be bad fieldcraft. But a cantina was neutral ground, and she didn't want him to know more about him then necessary, even if it was only a cover legend.

"Sure, sure, I'll be sending somebody over with them shortly." Nazar licked his lips again and squinted. "Now comes the matter of payment. Would you rather be doing it hard style or with electrons, eh?"

"Electrons would be easiest," Li said, "I won't be able to get all that cash on such a short notice."

The fat man nodded knowingly. "Very well then, you be sending the creds the this account and when they hit I send a little message to my man saying it's all good." Nazar gave Li a long string of numbers, the dummy account set up for the credit transfer, and waited eagerly for the numbers to change on his datapad.

Li saw that there were more number then there should be, so it would be a dummy, taking a random path in the bank's computer before setting on the correct account. She was used to it, and it didn't offend her. "You'll have it in five minutes," she said, standing up, "I'll wait the delivery of the goods at the approved place."

She was only going to transfer the cash when she was out of this place. Getting shot once was more than enough.

"More Questions Than Answers"
By Girra Xel Xux-Zallir (PC)
Chakka (NPC+)
Jorrard Zhen (NPC+)

Location: Anchorhead, Tatooine
Date: Rheudis 9th, 4ABY

***

"BLASTED PIECE OF NERF SHIT!" Girra cursed as she pitched a twisted and charred chunk of what use to be a negative power coupling quite unceremoniously behind her.

Chakka dodged out of the way as he watch the piece sail by his furry head and clang to the floor below. He cocked his head and huffed a Wookiee laugh as he mused about her unladylike temperament of late.

Girra twisted her lithe body around in the cramped space of the engine maintenance compartment she was working from. Her normally fine and lustrous pearly white hair was quite disheveled with streaks of engine lubricant as well as smudges of the same across her cornflower blue face. Chakka suppressed a hearty comment on her appearance as well, for fear of what she might do with the hydrospanner she had in her grasp.

Over the past week she had ferried a small group of fellow Omwati half way across the galaxy and back on a search for those who had long ago been taken from their families, those being Omwati like herself, and like her long lost brother Ortan. She had been approached, some weeks back, in help with their search and with information and tangible proof that her brother had been alive not to long ago, and hopefully that he was still among the living. Imperial worlds and strongholds were falling one after another as the New Republic continued its struggle against the Empire. Such worlds left revelations for those who were quick enough and in the know. From one world to another she sought out answers and clues as to where her brother and the friends and family of her companions might have been kept, or might have been moved to. But she kept comming up with more questions than answers, and she saw no real leads in her quest, where as her companions had in fact found one of their own...in a way.

And so she was led to Anchorhead on Tatooine.

Her patience was running thin.

She hated the desert and its twin suns.

Her ship was broke.

And she really wanted to take her frustrations out on someone.

"Alright," she sighed as she hefted herself out of the small compartment. "Let's go find our guests and get the money to fix this bucket," she said as she slapped the hydrospanner into the huge paw of the Wookiee's hand. "But first I need a damned drink!" she huffed from down the hall.

***

Anchorhead.

If there was a place on one of the most god-forsaken planets in the far reaches of the Outer Rim that could be considered civilization, it was that of Anchorhead. Unlike Mos Eisley and Mos Espa, Anchorhead was an actual oasis in the desert, where as the latter were but minor spaceports dotted with seedy establishments and junk yards where you paid three times as much for a piece of junk to get your sorry ass off the rock.

Girra and Chakka entered into an establishment called the Oasis, not the fanciest of places, as if you could get real fancy on Tatooine, but not seedy as most of the other wholes one could find in Mos Eisley or Mos Espa. It had the familiar adobe facade, adorned with synth-fauna and the tell-tale smells of dozens of beings who had not had a shower in some time - drinking a motley assortment of bevs that had their own unique and raunchy odors.

Girra made her way to the bar with her Wookiee companion in tow.

"Well I'll be a Jawa's daddy," a voice croaked from the other end. "I must be really blasted, because I could swear I see the pretty blue face of one Geeerrraa!"

Girra raised an eyebrow at the familiarity of the voice, slowly turned her head and cracked a huge grin at the sight of the drunken man who was flapping his lips.

"Jorrard, I can't say this is a pleasure. Unexpected sure, but a pleasure?" she said as she nodded her head to say nope. "I didn't realize Ragnud allowed you such a long leash, a bit away from home aren't you?"

The more worse for wear man belched and smiled behind thick facial hair as his drunken, yet piercing eyes bored ahead. With a sigh, "I'm a free man baby, paid my dues, honest way too, unlike some others."

"Oh, a drunk with morals. I knew Tatooine was worth comming for," she smarted as she took a long hard drink from her cold mug.

Chakka stepped to the other side, positioning himself between her and the man, growling lowly and looking for the permission to dislocate limbs.

"It's all right Chakka," Girra said as she downed another gulp and licked her lips. "His smell is a lot worse than his bite."

"Ohh," the man smirked as he turned his head towards the Wookiee. "OH," he said again realising who and what Chakka was.

"Everybody has to have a Wookiee co-pilot these days," Jorrad mumbled as he fumbled for another drink.

"So you enjoying your freedom there Jorrard, drinking it up?!" she asked with an attitude, clearly wanting to pick a fight while Chakka kept his distance and surveyed both sides of the drama.

"Don't be so smug, bi-otch," he belched before finishing his statement. "You weren't much better at one time, seemses I recalls you were once ona purtty tight leash yourself once...upons a...times," he said as his multiple choices of bev were clearly going straight to the brain. He started up from the bar stool, swaggering about with a stupid look about his face.

Girra set her drink down and moved to intercept. Jorrard slumped against her body with Chakka right behind growling his displeasure.

"Don't react, don't even move your eyes," Jorrard whispered in her ear as his body pressed up against hers, and he no longer sounded the least bit intoxicated. "It isn't what you think, honest. Dungar the Hutt is out for you..."

"Remembering the Same Event"
By: Zarrak
Kusna Coalb

Location: Jedi Temple and Arcadia
Date: Rheudis 9, 4 ABY

***

Zarrak had returned the grotto by the Jedi Temple. He removed his Scatter pistols and tossed them to the ground beside him.

He remembered the young man that he saw in that man's holo well. He scratched at his chin and leaned against a rock.

So, you had a brother, eh? he thought to himself. Interesting, but you're still a nobody. A worthless piece of shit. The kind you pass and care nothing about.

He remembered that day well. He had entered the cantina where the man known as Kusni went to a lot. Sure enough he found the young man.

Kusni had long black hair, a scruffy beard, and two dull brown eyes, dimmed thanks the spice he had been taking earlier.

"How about I enter the game?" Zarrak had said, looking at the table.

"Back off, bud." Kusni turned to glare at the Dug.

Without warning Zarrak lashed out with an arm, catching Kusni across the cheek and the blow actually caused the young human to fall down to the ground. People ran off in opposite directions.

Zarrak was onto him with several seconds. Punching the hell out of Kusni. Suddenly the Dug stepped away from the bloodied and bruised young human. He dragged him outside with the help of a Trandoshan who had just lost some credits to Kusni and aimed a pistol at him.

"Business is business," was all Zarrak had told him before squeezing the firing stud.

The Dug bounty hunter calmly walked out of the room as if nothing had happened.

***

Kusna had entered the Arcadian cantina, the one Zarrak just walked out of about two hours ago.

The young human had just been through several drinks and he already was thinking about the day he discovered his brother's dead body.

He had just received the call about a murder at the CoroNet cantina.

At first no one told him who got killed and Kusna set to work, questioning all of the patrons who saw what happened. According to them the young human was beaten by a Dug and then dragged outside by the Dug and a Trandoshan where they heard a blaster shot.

Finally one of the people mentioned the name 'Kusni' and Kusna rushed to the blanket covered corpse. When he removed the blanket he saw that it was indeed Kusni.

As calm as anything Kusna walked out of the cantina in search of the Dug.

"Somewhere, Someone...Something"
By: Kel Denab

Location: Arcadia
Date: Rheudis 9th, 4ABY

***

Kel sat down in his chair, thinking. Actually, it was more like plopped down. Things had been trying lately, the death of his sister still nagging at him, even after talking to one of the Jedi's at the temple. He had been gone, trying to figure his life out..but to no avail. Kel furrowed his brow, and stared blankly at the wall, which had a picture of a mountain scape on another planet. Sometimes he wished he would just get lost amongst the stars, never to be found..but other times he wishes there was more of a way he could make a difference.

Kel stood up, and walked over to his console. It was blinking at him with a message. Pushing a button, Kel started to read it. There was a new bounty out, on a thief that no one could seem to catch. He smiled a little to himself. Perfect, something to occupy his mind. He began to read about this thief, and his last known location. Kel sat down, and scrolled through the information. It seemed that anyone who tried to get close to this person would either vanish, or the thief would vanish, never to be found again. Interesting, he thought to himself. And because of what he was taking, the museum community decided that elimination of this person was the preferred method over trying to have law enforcement apprehend him. There was quite a substantial price on this persons' head. The dangerous ones always were the best giving.

Kel thought for a moment, and stood up again. He wanted to think about this for a bit. He walked outside into the capitol city, and looked around. The hustle and bustle seemed to be going along normally, even with the latest government change. The local people just seemed to not care one way or the other. He shrugged, and walked along, thinking. Coming to one of his favourite places, Kel walked into the upscale bar. He sat down, and ordered a drink for himself. Looking around, the bounty hunter took a quick stock of who was in the place, and who might be a possible threat at any point. Luckily, most of the people who came into this place were business people, and had little cares for what happened on the seedier side of things. And, that was the case today. No one appeared to be out of place.

The bartender sat his drink down in front of him, and he smiled briefly to her. She was relatively new..having just started about a month ago. She was only a few years younger than Kel was, and they talked occasionally. Usually she was fairly busy, so that left Kel alone in his own thoughts. Right now, he was some what preoccupied with how he was going to handle taking care of this new bounty. His normal tactics of busting into a place and shooting it up would not work this time. This thief was a relative unknown person. No one knew his real name, where he lived, only how he stole and what he stole. There was on e planet that it seemed he was located at, so Kel would start there and begin digging. He would have to leave his suit behind, as that would draw immediate attention to himself from the thief.

"Another?" the bartender asked, smiling to Kel.

"Sure," he said, finishing off the one he had.

"You seem deep in thought," she said, turning around and filling a new glass.

"I am, to be honest," Kel said to her.

"Care to talk about it?" she asked, leaning over slightly and looking at Kel, after putting his drink down.

"I wish I could," Kel said, smiling a little to her. "It's a new job," he told her, taking a drink from the refreshed glass.

"Oh yea? That mean you're going off planet again?" she asked.

"Yup," Kel said, nodding to her. "I don't know for how long this time," he added.

"Well, since you won't tell me, I guess I'll just have to wonder like I usually do," she said, flashing him a smile and winking.

"Yep, you will..but when I return, I'll definitely be here again," Kel said. "What's your name by the way? We've been talking on and off for a month, and I don't even know it," Kel said, deciding to find out who this person is he has been talking to.

"Marta," she said to him.

"Marta, I'm Kel..." he said, smiling. "And you are the best conversation I've had since you started working here. I don't know that many people,even though I've been around this planet for some time," Kel told her.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it!" Marta said, laughing a little. "Hey, listen.. I get off work here in 4 hours. Why don't we go do something?" she said to him.

"Sounds good to me, it'll help clear my mind a bit on another issue," Kel said to her.

"Can't talk about it?"

"Not yet," Kel said, finishing off his glass. "I'll be back in 4 hours," he added with a smile, paying his tab, and giving her a nice tip.

"Ok Kel, see you then," Marta said, pocketing the money.

Kel stood up, and headed out. He walked along, his thoughts starting to get drowned out by the random noise and chatter of the sidewalk around him. He wondered what Marta had in mind doing, he was not sure what there was to do around the capital. He had always been wrapped up in his work, that he never did much else other than get a drink. Kel wondered what Laedra had been up to these days...he would have to send her a message on his way to the planet. Ah well, he thought, continuing along. Only a little under 4 hours to go...

"Fist Full of Destiny"
By: Rylaa Lyssander- PC
Lani Vissip- NPC+
Lorgal- NPC+
Walker Coin- NPC+ (Played by Ben)
Various other NPCs

Location: Drogen Shipyards
Date: Rheudis 9, 4ABY

***

"Shit!" Rylaa Lyssander's voice rang out across the small engine room. "Get me a blasted hydrospanner before we lose the whole damn thing!"

The fat criminal was lodged underneath the Arc Royals' hyperspace drive so far that you could only see his boots. A furious banging sound came from his location after one of his men handed him the requested tool. After several ringing pounds, there came a meaty thwak followed by a string of expletives in Huttese. Huttese is widely known as one of the best languages to swear in, probably because it takes a lot of insulting to get a Hutt to get up and do anything about you, and there are about twenty different ways to call somebody an asshat.

The Arc Royal has been in hyperspace for about a day and a half before the toll the ship took in the brief battle above Avalon VI was noticed. The hull breach had been plugged by a curiously folded deck plate someone had torn off and spot welded into place but the armor was thin in numerous other places, all of them under watch. Most of the rest of the fixes began and ended in the engine room. Rylaa's stunt had placed so much stress on the engines that they were on the verge giving up, packing their bags, and taking a hike. Only Rylaa's constant attention was holding them together. Fortunately, the Tae'remok system was not the far from Avalon.

Another meaty thwack and enough curses to make a pirate blush echoed throughout the ship, followed by the sound of a hydrospanner ringing angrily on the durasteel casing of an engine.

***A few hours later***

A very dirty and rather grouchy Rylaa was snoozing lightly in the co-pilot's chair while next to him Lorgal flew the ship with his feet. The reason that he was not using his hands was that they were currently engaged in a rather fierce game of "Masters of Teras'kasi" with Biggs, the security trooper that had manned the aft quad-laser turret. Biggs' holographic wookiee was busy tearing the barabel's Jedi in half when an klaxon sounded through the cockpit and the ship lurched out of hyperspace, right where it was supposed to. At the same time, however, the engines decided they had had enough and simply quit, glad for the rest time, leaving the ship to drift along enough without any way to steer itself.

Rylaa woke with a snort and stared blearily out the front at the sight of the massive orbiting Drogen Shipyards. The last time he had been hear they were repairing damage done by some renegade ship. Now, just over a week later, much of the damage had been at least patched. At least the gaping wound in the side of the station was no longer visible. "Damnit," he grumbled as he noticed that emergency lights were on. More out of habit than anything else, he reached over and flipped the switch to the emergency frequency. "This is Ares Macrotechnology Freighter Arc Royal, we have sustained serious damage and are unable to maneuver. Request assistance from any vessel in the area."

After a brief burst of static, a voice emerged from the console. "Arc Royal, this is Drogen Control. Tugs are being dispatched to your location. Cut main power to your engines and prepare to submit to security scans," it said in a business like tone.

"Copy that, Drogen Control. I'd cut main power if I had it but I don't, so you don't have to worry about that." Rylaa swore to himself silently. The weapons in the cargo bay weren't illegal, he had corporate permits for them, but the PAX-25s hadn't been fully crated up before they had left the scene of the battle. Switching to an internal circuit he said, "Captain, get that armor as crated up as possible. Cram anything you can't get into the grav boxes in time into the smuggling compartments. I don't want word of these things getting out before we finish the design testing." That taken care of, Rylaa settled in for the notoriously slow tug service.

It was some 45 minutes later that 2 small tugs finally carefully maneuvered the Arc Royal into an otherwise empty bay in the station. As the ship bumped to a gentle halt onto the bay deck, the communications console again crackled into life. "Welcome to Drogen, Arc Royal. Stand by to receive a security team. During this time please take a moment to review the incident report forms, possible cargo damage release clauses and docking service charge details being transferred to you now." The briefest of flickering lights on the console at the end of this transmission did nothing to properly indicate the veritable mountain of red tape that had just been dumped into the ship's computer, awaiting the attentions of its owner.

Rylaa sighed, knowing full well the extent of the paperwork he was about to complete. A quick vox to the rest of the ship let everyone know they would soon be receiving a security team onboard and to say nothing of where they had been or what had transpired. His men were loyal, and Lorgal and Lani would never talk. He kicked his feet back and began filling out the various forms, waiting for the station's detail to show up.

It was only a few minutes later that another from the cockpit's wide selection of flashing lights showed that entry was being requested at the main hatch. An external monitor showed a heavily armed security team outside that appeared to be led by a truly giant man in power armor, impatiently awaiting access.

"I hope the rest of that armor is stowed, captain," Rylaa said to himself. He motioned for Lani to come with him as he went to the access hatch. The fiery-red haired woman, clad in tight grey jumpsuit that revealed nothing but enhanced everything, and sporting not only a pair of heavy blasters but a pair of large vibroblades too, pressed the button to lower the ramp. A jet of steam and the whine of machinery signaled the Arc Royal's reluctance to let anyone onboard but soon she gave one last groan and the ramp clanged hard on the durasteel deck. The criminal winced at the sound, hoping he wouldn't have to pay repair fees for that as well, and welcomed the giant man.

Quick eyes scanned over the security officer and his men, judging skill and awareness. If they had any idea that he was involved in the explosions and ruckus in the lower levels of the shipyards a couple months ago, they gave no sign. The large man's power armor was assessed to be of a good, if outdated, design while his troops were obviously well trained. Lorgal appeared at Rylaa's side, datapad in hand, and winked at his boss. The armor was stowed with the important pieces in the various smuggling compartments hidden around the ship. No one would talk.

"Welcome aboard the Arc Royal captain..." Rylaa left the sentence hanging, hoping the giant would provide the name for him."

"Coin," the soldier said. "Sergeant Coin. Thanks for the promotion, though," he rumbled in what seemed to be a friendly enough manner, although neither he or any of his men holstered their ready weapons. He studied the strange image presented to him by the chubby smuggler, his svelte companion, and the looming frame of the Barabel. "Let me guess, you're a traveling performing arts troupe. Had a bit of routine engine trouble then, no doubt?" he asked cynically.

Rylaa looked critically at the sergeant. It was impossible to miss the many signs of a ship fresh from the face of battle, especially one that had taken quite a few hull shots. "A true detective, aren't you?" he replied sarcastically in turn. "Well, since we've already been identified I might as well introduce myself. I'm Rocky Tainsdatter, well known holovid personality and these are my companions. The hot one in the jumpsuit is my bodyguard while the big bastard to my left is my secretary and hairdresser." Lorgal flourished a bow in as mocking a gesture as he could make it.

"Now if we've dispensed with the banthashit, the answer to your other question is no, our engine trouble is anything but routine.. If your deductive eye missed the many tell-tale signs, we have escaped from being spaced by a very slim margin and by pushing our engines so far that they have decided to take a leave of absence in response.."

The sergeant arched his eyebrows and then broke into a booming laugh. "Good Gods, was that actually honesty? What a refreshing break with convention." He made a hand gesture, and as he strolled up the ramp, his squad moved past him from behind and fanned out forward into the ship to begin a search. "Are you going to tell me what this little misadventure of yours was all about then -" he paused next to a large weapons crate and eyed it expertly, "-or should I make an educated guess? Hope you've got permits for these, Captain, or your next holovid will be set in the detention centre."

"Of course I have permits for them, which my secretary will hand over." Lorgal handed the sergeant the datapad with not only the corporate permit information but the filled-out-in-record-time paperwork as well. "As for our little misadventure... no, I don't really want to talk about it. I will say that it was full of daring, bravery, and was received by my enemies with much snarling and gnashing of teeth. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up on your doorstep any day now. Incidentally, are there any New Republic warships in the area? Preferably large and well-armed ones?"

The sergeant looked up sharply from the datapad. "One or two," he said warily. "I think at this point it would be in your interests to provide me with additional information."

"More than likely, yes," Rylaa replied. "You see, the enemies that are currently following have their hands on some rather well-known Imperial technology, namely a Star Destroyer, and they are quite ready to use it." This could be an arrest right here, Rylaa thought to himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lani leaning against the bulkhead, seemingly bored with what was happening. What many other didn't see was the ready placement of her feet and the careful way her arms were crossed. In the blink of an eye she could have both of her vibrodaggers out and the distance crossed between herself and the security team.

The sergeant was passing a casual eye over the interior of the cargo hold looking thoughtful, and seemed to give no sign of being aware of any potential danger to him or his men, who were by now spread throughout the hold making an examination of its contents, but he beckoned the chubby criminal over. "Can I have a quiet word with you over here, captain?"

"Sure thing, sergeant," he replied. Rylaa shifted his position so that he and the much larger man were standing closer together but he could still keep an eye and what was going on in the cargo hold. He didn't want the valuable pieces of his experimental armor being found, at least not until he brought back the test data from their brief battle to his scientists.

The sergeant bent low over the criminal so only he could hear. "This ship of yours looks to be running at least semi-legally, but it's still as fishy as a Gungan's breakfast, and I've got no doubt that there's something you don't want me to find around here," he murmured. "Now normally I'd like nothing better than turning the whole place upside down and seeing what crawls out, but whereas Spinks over there..." here he nodded towards one of his men who was closest to Lani, presenting his back to her like she was part of the wall, "...might be a complete greenhorn, I know that the little lady you've got there isn't as innocent as she looks..." he glanced at the Barabel, "...and your hairdresser probably knows a trick or two as well. So we could all throw down - maybe I'd get killed, maybe you'd get killed - Spinks would sure as hells get killed - but you wouldn't get far out of here with no engines, and then this Star Destroyer of yours, which may or may not exist - would show up unexpected, like, and make a thorough mess of things around here. Again. And we're just getting finished cleaning up from the last time something like that happened. So how about instead I give you a pass mark on this inspection right now, before Spinks or someone else trips over something accidentally, and you come with me to Tactical and provide as many details on these Imps or whoever they are as you can?"

"Sergeant," Rylaa said quietly, a slight smile on his face, "You are obviously a man of intelligence and I admire that from someone who wears a badge. They rarely get in the way. Very well, I'll head up with you and provide as many details as I can."

"Very good, sir," the sergeant acknowledged. "We're done here," he called out loudly to his various men.

"But Walker..." one of them who had been carefully eyeing a weapons crate started.

"I said we're done private, and that's Sergeant Coin to you," the sergeant said firmly. "You're to report back to the duty room and I'm going to escort the captain here to Tactical, understood?"

"Yes sir," his underling confirmed, and the squad formed up and began to head for the ramp.

"Right this way, Captain...Tainsdatter," the sergeant finished with a slight smile on his face.

"Lyssander, actually, sergeant," Rylaa said. "I'm completely legitimate so I don't mind giving out my real name." After nodding to his two associates and watching the security reluctantly leaving the ship, he followed the massive man to the lift. "I'm curious, sergeant, did you ever take your revenge on the ones who waylaid the station some time ago? I was leaving the planet and saw the aftermath but was told none-too-politely that you needed no assistance other than me buggering myself somewhere else."

The sergeant harrumphed as he pushed the button that would take them to Tactical. "Captain Kir and her New Republic mates caught up with the bastards and we gave them a pretty good bloody nose, but they jumped out on us on the end, and we ain't seen or heard of 'em since. Weren't no Star Destroyer made that attack though - at least we'll see a Star Destroyer coming. So these Imps - I take it they're Imps � were they after those weps you're hauling?"

Rylaa harrumphed right back. "Course not. I know the weapons my company makes are decent, but they're not the best out there. Those Imps would have to be hurting pretty badly to want them. No, these were used for self defense on a rather inhospitable world that we were on. And I'm glad to hear you at least bloodied the bastards." The lift opened to the Station's Tactical Center and the short criminal got out with his looming escort. "Never did like sneak attacks," he said ironically, "always found them too... uh... sneaky."

"Yeah, I'm a direct assault sort of man myself," said Walker, seemingly just in case Rylaa held the extremely unlikely opinion that it would be possible for the sergeant to sneak up on anyone. "Which company you working for, then?" he asked as they headed towards the operations centre.

"Working for? I don't work for anybody. I own Ares Macrotechnology. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

A look of surprise spread across the face of the soldier. "You own Ares? Yeah, I heard of you. Know one of your employees, in fact." He chuckled at what was obviously a private joke.

"Oh?" Rylaa raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't surprise me, actually, my company has been expanding quickly and I have several people working for me up here. Is there something particular about this employee of mine that you find humorous? He must be a friends of yours."

"Yeah, he's a mate - just handling a delivery contract for you at the moment. Although he has been gone awhile. Never mind, I'm sure he'll turn up presently, and possibly not even in pieces." The two had reached their destination. The sergeant snapped to attention and threw a salute.

A officer who looked to be just entering middle age looked up from some readouts he was reviewing, an amused look creeping over his face at the picture presented by the towering giant standing right next to the unknown squat and chubby man beside him.

"Ah, the redoubtable Sergeant Coin," the officer said, returning the man's salute, "Can I help you and your...friend, with something?"

"Sir, this is Mr. Lyssander, his ship just bought in by the tugs. I have confirmed the contents of his ship as legitimate. He has some pertinent information about what may be a possible threat to this station, sir."

"Really?" the officer said, slightly more interested now. He extended a hand in a business like manner. "Mr. Lyssander, I am Lieutenant Thrace, the on-duty deck officer. You have information that is relevant to the security of this facility - fell foul of a few struggling pirates, or desperate smugglers perhaps?"

Rylaa decided to drop the mostly sarcastic attitude he had taken with Sergeant Coin. This was obviously a professional officer and came with the usual "stick firmly up ass" that he had come to expect. He grabbed the hand and squeezed to show that underneath his layers of fat was a thick layer of muscle as well and greeted the man cordially. Briefly, he began to explain exactly what he believed to be on it's way, namely an Imperial-class Star Destroyer with about two-thirds its compliment of TIEs, the final third having been reduced to vapor and parts. Being a con artist and an excellent storyteller, Rylaa was able to weave his own roll into the story has being on a simple weapons demonstration to the planet Altos in the Reglin system.

While on their way back, they were ambushed by the Imperials who demanded that they turn over their weapons and their ship. Of course, being loyal New Republic citizens Rylaa had politely told them to "Fuck off" and was attacked by TIEs. He was able to escape, but not before taking serious damage and in turn delivering it. The Imperials, now thirsty for blood and revenge he believed, were following him.

Thrace did indeed possess the officer-school-smugness prevalent in so much of the military, but he wasn't an idiot, and he knew his job, and the likely thought processes of his superiors. "If what you say is true Mr. Lyssander, it could prove a serious problem. Significant sections of the New Republic attachment to this station are currently away on assignment, and reinforcements could be some time away. However, if it is indeed as you say a matter of them being after simple revenge upon you, I can't imagine that they would take on a battle with this station and its protectors simply to achieve that, unless they had a greater purpose in mind � the Imperial Remnant can't afford to risk ships up on such unimportant causes. And even if there is some Imperial psychotic in command who is prepared to do just that, I can think of no compelling reason for us not to turn you out into space, ready ourselves for a fight, and politely tell this avenging captain when he shows up that we never saw you."

"Hey, it's your station, buddy," Rylaa responded casually, as though being turned out into space was no big thing when one doesn't have a working engine. "I was just asking for a little engine help then I'll be on my way." The chubby criminal paused and a thoughtful looked crossed his face. He was still thinking like an independent smuggler, the kind that has no support to draw on other than what he can scrounge for himself. But that's not what he was any more, he was the CEO of a major corporation with virtually unlimited funds at his disposal. He didn't need this ship any more than he needed the crates of weapons onboard. In fact, the only two objects of vital importance were the holocron and the suits of experimental power armor.

"You know, lieutenant, I believe that just to help you out of what appears to be a difficult situation, I'll just remove myself. I'll have my company send up another ship to pick me and my cargo up and leave the repairs to you. Of course, you will be well rewarded for the timely repair and return of a corporate freighter. And if the navigation records of said freighter were accidentally erased during these repairs I can say that the corporation wouldn't make a big issue of it."

Thrace briefly thought this over. "Very well Mr. Lyssander, that sounds acceptable, if there's nothing to tie you to this freighter of yours, and she's a fairly standard model, that's fine...nevertheless this station must regard any Star Destroyer nearby as a serious threat, and I believe that our friends in the New Republic will want to learn all about it as well. I must go and make a report. Sergeant, take Mr. Lyssander back to his ship and have him upload all relevant tactical data to us. Mr. Katich, you have the deck," he said to a junior officer, and left to brief his superiors.

Walker glanced down at the arrival. "I'm impressed, that's about the best you could have expected to get out of him. Useful things in a bind aren't they, power and money."

Rylaa grinned up at the man towering over him. "You better believe it. Alright, lets head back to my ship and I'll do as the nice lieutenant asks. Then I'll call up one of my other ships and have them pick me up. Then I should be out of your hair, sergeant."

Walker nodded. "Right you are, Mr. Lyssander," he said with a smile. He gestured towards the elevator. As they headed back towards the flight deck and Lyssander's waiting cargo though, he couldn't shake a feeling that what seemed to be the all-too-easy arrival and departure of this clearly smooth operator was somehow going to make things distinctly rough in the near future.

"Strange Bedfellows - Transitions Into Uncertainty, Part 1"
By Girra Xel Xux-Zillar, Smuggler and Captain of the Helix (PC)
Jorrard Zhen, Smuggler (NPC+)
Chakka, Helix crew-member (NPC+)

Location: Tatooine
Date: Rheudis 9th, 4ABY

***

Dungar, Girra thought as the words filled her ear while the raunchy smell of Jorrard continued to press against her body. She didn't move to displace him, she didn't betray her emotions with any change in her facial features. An icy explosion of revulsion and dread began to expand from her gut at the thought of the obesely vile Hutt who had indentured her some years back for the loss of precious cargo. The things she had had to do...

She stood for a moment longer, waiting for what may transpire next. Every nerve in her body screamed to run for the Helix and get the hell off of that sand waste of a world. But Dungar would have known she was here from the time her ship landed, even with her fake ship identification and transponder codes. There were very few Old Republic star cruisers flying around the galaxy. And it was a sure bet that Dungar had any number of his thugs watching the ports and no doubt within the Oasis where she stood.

A dozen questions raced through her mind, Does he have a bounty on me after all these years? Of course, she knew better, Hutts did not forgive and forget. They were among the most vindictive and predictable slugs in the 'verse. After all, it was Jorrad whom she had taken the bounty search of on behalf of Dungar, but instead cashed in on Dungar's rival, Ragnud the Despicable. It had pissed the Hutt off to no end. Not that he had a lot of money tied up in Jorrard, but that he had been double crossed and on the other end of it all was his chief rival the infamous Pacithhip crime boss Ragnud, also known as the Despicable for as many reasons as there are stars in the night sky.

Girra first thought Jorrard was at work for Dungar when he whispered the Hutt's name. But that could never be. Jorrard was many things, but he'd never be in collusion with a Hutt, and especially not that of Dungar.

She grabbed Jorrard's crotch quite firmly. She could feel his body quiver as he let out a slight whimper of discomfort and impending pain and nausea.

"You can stop pressing your filthy body against me now," she told him as-a-matter-of-fact-like. "And tell me what is going on."

"Alright, alright..." he pleaded for his manhood as she released her firm grip. "Come on, Dungar has people in here. We need to go somewhere and talk."

Girra nodded to the Wookiee and gave the shaggy being a wink. He huffed and remained where he was, continuing to case the joint after her departure. It was a silent code for the Wook to stay behind and watch for anyone that might try to follow behind her. Then he would follow and the would be stalker would be sandwiched behind a rather unstable Wookiee, and a woman who had very few reservations about most anything when it came to the preservation of her well being and her occupation.

After a moment, three beings followed suit out the door. Chakka had noticed their interest since he had arrived, and well before Girra's command, he had been watching the trio: a willowy Woostoid female who looked like she worked the brothel upstairs, a mangy Nazzar who seemed to have a compulsive nervous habit of chewing his own cud, and a rather rough and grungy looking Ho'din who looked like he had been out in the twin suns of Tatooine for far too long.

After another moment Chakka followed.

***

"Alright," Girra said as she whipped out her blaster. "I want to know what the hells is going on, and I wanna know now!"

"Settle down sweetheart," he pleaded with a lopsided grin. "I'm tryin to help, I'm not misbehav'n."

"That'd be the day, some things and some people don't ever change in this galaxy, I wanna give you the benefit of the doubt, but this involves Dungar," she said as she jabbed her massive Death Hammer blaster to the man's half bare chest for emphasis. "And that is never good. I thought I fell off that slugs radar?!"

"You know a Hutt carries a grudge into the afterlife, and it is only a matter of time before a Hutt's debt catches up to you," Jorrard replied as he looked to the blaster with a pleading look of, Please remove the muzzle before you blow a fraggin whole the size of the Maw in my chest?!?

"Stangin Hutt!" Girra cursed with more anxiety and anger than fear, and the icy grip in her gut had not relinquished its hold.

"Well how do you know about this? What are you involved for?" Girra asked knowing well that he couldn't have known she would be here, and she found it hard to believe that he was doing anything to be a nice guy. True enough, she saved him from the Hutt by selling him out to Ragnud. The difference between the two evils was debatable, but when you had a price on your head any one who captures and delivers you is not your friend. And she had detected some animosity in his previous statement about morality, though last she knew him, he didn't have much room to talk. Morals were not much in the vocabulary or belief system of the likes of Jorrard Zhen. And she doubted he had changed so much.

"You know I ain't got no love for that blasted Hutt, and like I said, I'm a free man now and I intend on staying that way," he replied curtly. "My debt to Ragnud and Dungar has been paid, but you know the Hutts - they still hold grudges and have a slimy way of keeping you under their tail. Ragnud offered me a pretty sweet job, running goods for his interests after I repaid him, but I had a run in with one of Dungar's right-hand thugs, and he made it very clear that if continued to work for Ragnud that I would wish I was never born. The two of them have been at it with a vengeance Girra, both are trying to pick up the pieces after Jabba's death to control his business and claim Tatooine as their own. It has made it very hard for a guy like me to find a good job. Dungar has my ship on impound, he has a lot of clout with the customs officials here in Anchorhead."

"Well that is all their problem, and you should have skipped out to the other side of the Outer Rim instead of getting yourself stuck between their feud," Girra said with little support for the man's plight. "What's this got to do with me, Jorrard?"

"Apparently word around these parts is that some squid-head named Vekker has a very high price on your head. He used to be a Vigo with Black Sun I guess, and Dungar has had some pretty tight dealings with the guy. Word is he has put pressure on those he does business with to get to you. What in the hells is up with this Vekker character Girra?"

The icy pit that had formed in her gut grew worse, but it slowly faded to the rising anger and vehement she harbored for the Quarren crime boss Krullek Vekker.

"We had a difference of opinion," she said coldly. "I thought he should die and rot, he doesn't agree."

"Well, you made yourself a pretty powerful enemy, and opened an old wound in that of Dungar," Jorrard replied. "Anyway, Ragnud is more than happy to piss Dungar off by getting to you first. I know you don't particularly like the guy, who does? But he hasn't forgotten what you did for him, and how good you are at what you do. And however a pain in the tail you are to the Hutt, well that just tickles the shit out of Ragnud. I'm going out on a long and wobbly limb here, gettin involved as I am. I couldn't help it though, when I saw you come in a couple days ago...Well, I can't rightly say I won't profit from helpin', but we have a history and people likes us we gotta stick together."

Girra laughed, "People likes us? A history? We don't have a history, Jorrard," she groaned as her comlink vibrated in her pocket with three short buzzes.

"Aw come on baby," he smirked. "You can't tell me you forgot about that night on...where was it we were?" he asked playfully to have her recap the event for his pleasure.

"Nice try, but I'm not going to give you the satisfaction," Girra winked. "And it was just business and I faked it the whole time," she said as his comm buzzed slightly again with one long vibration.

"All five times?" he asked.

***

Chakka followed from a casual distance, he clicked his comm-link three quick times to let Girra know that he was comming, and that they had three guests. He then clicked once to let her know that he could and that he would, take them out for her. When there was no response, that was his cue that she was otherwise engaged that he needed to take care of business.

Chakka was overly large even by Wookiee standards. For a very long time he had been indentured by lesser criminal elements, forced to pay off his debts fighting in underground blood-sports across the Outer Rim. He had become addicted to spice, and his lack of lucidness lost fights, and further put him in debt and on the bad side of those he served. He wasted away in the streets of Thanatos where he was all but forgotten. He probably would have died there, had he not been saved by Girra. Several months later, clean and well on the mend, Chakka was a new Wook.

The three thugs were just ahead, weaving in and out of the moderate Anchorhead pedestrian traffic. As the people thinned and faded as they entered into less desirable and respectable section of Anchorhead, Chakka readied himself, working himself into a fit to be unleashed upon those who threatened she that he had bestowed a life-debt with...

***

"Look we need to get off this rock and lay low for awhile," Jorrard said rather assumingly.

"We?"

"Well, uh...yeah?" he replied with his usual smug grin. "I don't have my ship, I've nearly ran out of creds and I don't intend on staying here the rest of my life. Come on, for old times?"

Girra rolled her eyes, "I have some passengers I have to collect first."

"Forget them, Girra, Dungar's people will have tailed them from the moment they left the landing pod in hopes of getting to you. They're in no danger, leave 'em and let's go," he pleaded.

"No way," she said, sensing his urgency. He was clearly worried about something and didn't have so much to do with her. "I don't operate like that, and it is rather personal."

"Look, if I help you get these people will you give me a lift?" he asked. "I can pay you if I must, I still have 7,500 creds. You can have it all if I can just get off this rock."

Girra studied the man for a minute, she wasn't concerned about the creds, though she could use them as she was going broke. She was fortunate to have gotten the information about Vekker and Dungar, a heads up that she knew well would help keep her out of some serious trouble and she too wanted to get off and far away from Tatooine as soon as possible.

"Stang it, Jorrard!" she cussed as she holstered her blaster. "Come on then."

***

Chakka made his way closer to the three targets, his blood boiling in a traditional Wookiee preparation for battle; an ages old genetic conditioning from the Wookiee's ancestors when they braved the dangerous lower levels of Kashyykk for defense and to prove their worth in might, bravery and skill. His head buzzed with anticipation, his muscles tensed with the delight and ancestral need to attack and defeat his enemies.

Time stood still as he took the opportunity to strike, his focus became tunnel vision as the universe constricted into that moment, in all the stars this was the only time, place and beings that made up his world.

Chakka let loose a bellowing and icy war cry that reverberated across the tight and lonely alley. Wamprats scurried away in startling fear, and his three foe whirled in panic and shock at the maddened flurry of fur, claws and salivating teeth that came out of nowhere.

In a hunt it was common to pounce upon the slowest and weak for a sure kill. Though the Wookiee were great at getting in touch with their primitivity, they were also among the most intelligent and adaptive beings in the galaxy. This was more than a hunt, it was battle - and in battle you took out the biggest and most dangerous threat first.

Chakka could have easily picked all three off with quick blasts from his bowcaster. Hell he could have lobbed a low charged thermal detonator and took them out without them ever having known what hit them. But that was weak and no fun. Chakka wanted to feel bones break, he wanted to smell fear and taste blood.

The first to go down was the Ho'Din, it was a draw between he and the Nazzar. Chakka knew the Nazzar to be quite sturdy and strong, but they were more prone to flight than fight when their instinctive survival mode kicked in. He didn't want a chase, he wanted a fight. The Ho'Din were quite agile and much stronger than they appeared. None of the three looked like a prime example of their respective stocks, but in any case, it was the Ho'Din who took the first bashing.

Chakka was on top of the trio in a heart beat. The Ho'Din's eyes bugged out and were nearly popped out of his head at the sudden rush of the attacking Wook. His flower like cranial appendages quivered with fear and shock as his companions scattered. Chakka smashed a mighty fist into the Ho'Din's ugly face, turning it into a bloody mash as the man gave a startled and short lived gurgle of a cry. As his body slumped to the ground, Chakka whirled on the other two and continued his battle cries of fury.

The Woostoid woman was tall and slender, agile and quick to draw her blaster. Chakka growled and snarled his distaste as he whirled upon her with a round-house kick that sent her blaster flying into the opposing wall and knocking the woman off balance. He grabbed her with two mighty arms, his claws digging into her frail arms as he picked her up and raised her to the air with one swift and powerful movement. She squirmed but did not have nearly the strength to escape the grasp of a Wookiee. He pulled her tight and constricted her frail body against his powerful and solid mass, squeezing the breath and life from her.

She gasped in pain and for air, but she found no relief until her spinal cord snapped and she felt no pain any longer. He dropped her limp and lifeless body to the ground like garbage as he laid his eyes upon the Nazzar who backed away fumbly from the horrific sight of his dead companions.

Chakka closed the distance, smelling fear and already tasting blood. The Nazzar stumbled as he tried to turn and flee. The Wookiee was on him in a moment. Fear stricken, the Nazzar could not even scream out. His body went rigid with impending doom as the Wookiee attacked with claw and fangs. It was over just as soon as it had all begun. Chakka stood over his kills, his chest heaving as he fought off the adrenaline.

He let out a shrill victory cry.