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| - I heard nothing out of the ordinary as I finally opened my eyes after a rather unnecessary nap Piroc had forced upon me. Rubbing the sleep from them, I looked around for a little bit to try and acclimate myself to the surroundings; and yet, I still heard nothing but the normal humming of a ship as it cut through hyperspace. I frowned. Something didn’t seem right. Cautiously, I uncurled my limbs individually from the position they had been set in. As I did so, I heard various cracks and pops as my stiffened joints moved. Wincing, I tried to assure myself that it was all normal, but Lunais’ torture sessions had really taken too much out of me for any bodily reaction to be considered normal. I wiped a hand across my face, and then pushed some stray hair off my face before finally standing and stretching out my back. I cursed Piroc for making me nap in such an uncomfortable chair; if he had wanted me to rejuvenate myself, it would have made much more sense if I had had a comfortable chair to sleep in. But, instead of continuing to curse Piroc, my curiosity overwhelmed me and I decided to head up the hold of the ship into the cockpit to find out why Imperial ships no longer followed us, and how we happened to get into hyperspace without a terrible struggle. “Do you have anything on the readouts?” Piroc questioned, and he actually sounded a little bored. “Not at all, just like the previous five hundred times you’ve asked me.” “It wasn’t five hundred times,” he corrected lazily. “Still bothering you?” Sterlo blurted without preamble. Piroc remained silent for a few contemplative seconds, but then he said, “What?” “Why the Imperials just stopped. I mean, Naelah would make quite the profit and it’s obvious that Lunais is keenly interested in her. So tell me, why would they stop hunting us? We made it to hyperspace with a bit of a glitch, but that was all.” “It’s curious, yes. Naelah’s valuable, and Lunais is clearly interested. Perhaps there’s something else we’re missing.” Sterlo looked at Piroc for a couple seconds, judging what he was saying. Finally, he said, “What do you mean?” “A trap,” Piroc said with a noncommittal shrug. “They don’t know our trajectory. They don’t know where we’re going to end up.” Sterlo’s argument was weak though, and before I could even open my mouth to point out that this was a stolen Imperial vessel that could probably be tracked easily, Piroc beat me to the punch. “And we’re flying in what type of craft, Sterlo?” He cocked his head. “What kind of question is that?” “We’re flying an Imperial vessel. Don’t you think the Empire has trackers on every single one of their ships?” “I wouldn’t put it past them,” I commented drily. “They track their Senators and citizens, so what would prevent them from tagging all of their ships?” Taking a step, I finally entered the cockpit as Sterlo and Piroc swung around to face me. “Half their citizens were in their ranks anyways, so of course Palpatine would have them tracked.” Piroc muttered. “Nice to see you awake, your Highness.” “And it’s so nice to see you too,” I retorted sarcastically. “But on a more serious note, when did we make the jump to hyperspace?” I slid into an open chair and turned my gaze toward Sterlo, and then back to Piroc. Sterlo said, “A little while ago. I was sort of surprised when Lunais didn’t give up more of a fight—” “I heard,” I interrupted. “I was standing in the doorway the entire conversation. Piroc thinks we’re heading into a trap, and to be frank, I wouldn’t be surprised.” I smoothed out the hem of my tunic. “I wouldn’t put it past Lunais to do such a thing.” “No one would.” Sterlo shrugged. “Since we’re in an Imperial ship, we’ve got to find out another way to throw her and the Empire off our tail.” He made a steeple out of his fingers and gazed at me over the top of them. “Anyone have any suggestions?” “Well,” I began slowly, “I propose we lose the ship first of all.” “Obviously,” Piroc said snidely. “But would it surprise you if I already had a plan?” I whirled toward him. “What?” “Do I have to repeat myself?” “No, but expanding on this plot would be nice,” Sterlo commented drily. Piroc deflected the comment with a shrug as he swiveled toward the front of the cockpit. “Well, let’s just say I have a friend who… specializes in the acquisition of different vehicles and various items of a, well, interesting nature.” “Is he trustworthy,” I demanded instantly while clenching my fingers on my lap. “I won’t just wander into some idiot’s clutches to grab another ship. And what items does this ‘friend’ acquire anyways? You don’t make him sound like a law-abiding being.” “Just because he’s a greasy slimeball doesn’t mean he’s awful—” but whatever else Sterlo was going to say was cut off by my frosty gaze. Piroc shrugged. “If its law-abiding citizens you’re worried about, you should check who you have to save you more often. We’re all criminals here.” “That wasn’t my choice,” I muttered sourly. “It was my father who decided to hire you, and I happened to pick up this scumbag for reasons outside of my control.” “Hey now!” “Brax will get us what we need, exactly how we need it, end of story. If you don’t like him sweetheart, well that’s just too bad. Sterlo,” Piroc swiveled the chair around to face the other man in the cabin. “Set the coordinates for Nar Shaddaa.” I leapt out of my seat and spluttered, “Wh-what are you doing?!” “Going to Nar Shaddaa, Naelah,” he answered while snapping the buckles together. “And I suggest you buckle up. We’ve got an ARC trooper to meet.” I punched the coordinates of Nar Shaddaa into the stolen ships controls and sat back comfortably in my seat. It would be awhile until we got to Nar Shaddaa, and I really didn’t want to get in the middle of Naelah and Piroc’s heated argument over Brax’s nobility. So, folding my hands behind my head I settled into the chair with the intent to nap a bit, but then Naelah’s exasperated sigh caught my attention. “Are you even trustworthy?” She demanded. “How do I even—” “I haven’t killed you, have I?” “Maybe you’re going to take me back to Lunais when I’m least expecting it,” she accused brutally. Now, much to my dismay, I had been pulled out of a relatively nice bit of simplicity. Sighing, I spun around in the chair and saw Naelah standing and glaring at Piroc, and the latter was sitting comfortably. “Naelah, you really shouldn’t accuse Piroc of anything.” Her eyes flashed toward me. “I beg your pardon?” Her voice came out in the most deadly manner, and at once I found myself regretting the position I had just taken up; apparently it was now Piroc and Sterlo versus Naelah. “Listen,” I added quickly, “I’m not taking sides here. All I’m saying is that maybe we should give this Brax guy a shot. And there’s no need to accuse Piroc of things he hasn’t, and won’t, do.” Curse me for becoming the mediator of this conversation, because now I had both Naelah’s and Piroc’s rigid gazes on me. Naelah stood their chewing on her lip. By now her face had turned a mottled red color, and she looked as though she wanted to shoot something. “Take a seat, Princess,” Piroc ordered with a touch of sarcasm. She glared, but did not sit. Typically stubborn, Naelah continued to pick at the wound that was already festering because of the current situation. “So, what sort of credibility does this old Republic clone have? Was he a commendable officer in the army? What ranking did he have?” “You’re pestering. Do I have to ask you to take a seat again? I really don’t like repeating myself, and I really don’t like it when human girls have been splattered all over the cockpit.” “Let’s just get going to Nar Shaddaa and shut up about this whole deal,” she snapped irritably. It appeared, much to my surprise, that Naelah was actually relenting. She sat in the chair and quickly buckled the straps over her shoulders, and didn’t say another word. I glanced toward Piroc, but he had already spun around in his chair and was now facing out the front of the ship. Resigning myself to the uncomfortable quietude that existed between the three of us, I turned to face the controls again. There wasn’t really anything I could do with the blinking lights and various buttons in front of me; I had already locked in on the coordinates for Nar Shaddaa, so it was completely pointless for me to be staring at a piece of a rainbow of buttons. I stood up quietly, and didn’t dare to disturb either Naelah or Piroc as I moved past them into the hold of the ship, and quickly made my exit into the storage area. Boredom was imminent, I concluded as I sat down on a hard chair. I had no choice but to suffer through the long ride to Nar Shaddaa and hope that what we discovered on the planet would be so much more intriguing. This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, I kept chanting to myself as Piroc deftly guided the blazing Imperial ship into the landing dock on Nar Shaddaa. I clenched my teeth and willed my tongue to stay perfectly still, but as the ship touched ground I could no longer hold the comments I had been itching to say the entire trip. “I don’t like the look of this spaceport!” I burst out. Piroc turned around in his chair, and Sterlo just looked at me over the top of his folded hands. “It doesn’t look like…well it doesn’t look very friendly,” I explained lamely. “You don’t trust Brax. I get it.” “Well, no,” I responded shiftily. I mean, I couldn’t argue with Piroc; he was technically right. “But I don’t like the planet either. How do you know if their friendly to Imperials or not? We’ve got an Imperial ship after all.” “They didn’t shoot us, did they?” Piroc asked. Again, I averted my gaze as I said, “No…” “So either they’re waiting to see who’s on board, or they just don’t care. Personally, I believe it’s the latter.” Piroc said logically. Sterlo cocked his head in Piroc’s direction. “I’m inclined to agree.” They had a decent point, as much as I didn’t care to admit. With a reluctant sigh, I unbuckled my straps and headed for the back of the ship. “Well, come on, Piroc,” I called back to the front. “You’re the one who knows Brax. Let’s find him.” “Of course your, Highness,” he shouted back at me. Nar Shaddaa’s entire surface was a sprawling wasteland of urbanization. In truth, the planet reminded me of a mini-Coruscant, but without the nice districts. In retrospect to Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa was the planet with all of the disgusting, filthy streets and sketchy bars and restaurants. Not to mention, the crime rate was spectacularly high. According to both Sterlo and Piroc, we had landed our ship in the Duros Sector. The sector was primarily dominated by Neimoidians because apparently they heavily supported the area during the Clone Wars. It was grimy, grubby and in the corner of my eye I always managed to catch the slick movements of a pick pocket or two. “Why are we here? There aren’t any bars or clubs or anything of the sort.” “Because passing through the Duros Sector is the only way you can get to the Corellian Sector, which is where most humans can be found. There’s a secret tunnel that only a few know of.” Piroc answered. “And I’m assuming you know where this secret tunnel entrance is?” “As a matter of fact, I do.” With a dramatic flourish, Piroc suddenly led us into an old, nearly collapsed building. The three of us wound around crumbling corridors, and leapt over various pieces of ceiling until we reached a seemingly dead end. Piroc walked right up to the wall and pushed it inwards. Immediately, the portion of the wall that he had touched slid upwards and disappeared. “There’s a repulsorlift that’ll take us to the tunnel system, and from there we enter the Corellian Sector.” “Why is it so secretive?” “The Corellian sector is a high-rise district, one of the wealthiest on the planet. The rest of the planet is poorer, and it makes logical sense to keep out the poor. Statistics have shown that on Nar Shaddaa, crime is often linked to poorer, non-human species.” Sterlo cleared his throat. “A fact I disagree with. The Hutts are, after all, such a proud species, and so are Humans for that matter. They determine the statistics, more or less.” “But it still remains a fact.” Piroc extended a hand toward me. “The repulsorlift only takes one at a time, sweetheart.” He explained when I threw him a look of shock. “Ladies first, no matter how stubborn she may be.” Warily, I took his hand and stepped into the repulsorlift. “What’s going to happen when I get to the top?” He pressed a button, and holding his finger above another he said, “Just wait for us.” He pressed the second button and at once the door of the repulsorlift closed and shot up into the air. Suddenly, the lift screeched to a halt and a second door slid open noisily. I leapt out as quickly as possible and fell onto the floor just as the lift dropped back down to ground level. Within the next few seconds, I had righted myself and Piroc had jumped neatly onto the little platform. While we waited in relative silence, he brushed off his armor and then Sterlo exited the lift just as neatly as Piroc did. “The tunnel’s up ahead.” We all turned and headed off the platform. In front of us was a gaping black hole, which was the entrance to the tunnel network that led to the Corellian Sector. We walked quickly into the blackness of the tunnel, and Piroc’s knowledge of the path got us through the system quickly. Fifteen minutes later, we entered the Corellian Sector, as was proclaimed by the flashing signs over the entrance. Well, I couldn’t be surprised. The area was covered with trendy clubs and casinos, as well as the occasional bar. The entire area looked as though it were covered in trash and the desiccated remains of people, sticky drinks and only the Force knew what else. To me, it appeared that this would be the perfect place for a washed-up ARC commando, even if it was in the high rise district. “I’ll bet credits that Brax is going to be at the Meltdown Café. It’s one of Nar Shaddaa’s most renowned clubs. That washed up commando always ends up there.” He scanned the area twice, and then quickly started walking through the crowded streets. “Stay close,” he grumbled over his shoulder. On the small of my back I felt the lightest of pressures. Jerkily, I turned around and saw Sterlo standing behind me with an innocent smirk on his face. In his hands he held my credit bag. “What the fierfek do you think you’re doing?” I growled. “Keep your purse hidden.” He handed the bag back to me and darted around me to catch up to Piroc. Grumbling incoherently, I shoved the bag down the front of my tunic and ran to catch up with the two men. Once I caught up to them, I punched Sterlo hard in the shoulder and triumphantly watched him wince. “That’s for stealing my purse you nerf herder.” “Shut up and keep up,” Piroc interrupted as he made a sharp left. “The Meltdown Café is on your right.” Sterlo and I looked at the right and saw the bright flashing signs that pierced through the murky darkness of Nar Shaddaa. The signs proclaimed all the various drinks and food the Meltdown Café sold, and not many of them looked appetizing. “Piroc,” I said before he pushed open the door to the all-too flashy café. “You better be right about this. I curse you to the Empire if you aren’t.” I led the way into the dimly-lit café. The seedy cantina was known to host numerous beings from all walks of life. The last time I had seen Brax, he had spoken highly of the cantina, and based off that I hoped to find him here. The girl would be put in her place, but there was one minor issue. While Brax was completely and utterly trustworthy, he is… well, to put it simply, he’s unstable. The Clone War didn’t help his mental condition. I had always suspected it was just being a clone in a huge galactic war, where he was exploited by a Republic he was bred to protect, and as a special forces soldier he saw a lot of tough action. He fled the newfound Empire after Order 66 went down, and was hunted by brothers he fought alongside for three years of brutal and unforgiving combat. It was only gaining a suit of Mandalorian armor and disappearing amongst the humans of Nar Shaddaa that saved him from the Emperor’s wrath. He was later taken to fight in Kran Calasandro’s gladiator fights, where we met. Putting more than one Mandalorian in the fight was a mistake on Calasandro’s part. I wandered over to the bar, the girl and her friend in tow, and asked the bartender if he had seen another Mandalorian recently. “He wears armor like mine, but his is red and bronze. He stands just short of 6 feet.” The bartender, without a word, pointed to the back of the bar. It was hazy from the smoke of spices and ta’bac. It seemed like Brax to hide in the back, out of sight. “Thanks,” I muttered to the bartender and walked into the back of the bar. Of course, the girl couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I don’t like this. It’s the perfect setup for a trap.” Her nose wrinkled slightly at the various smells wafting through the smoke of the bar. “And it smells foul.” “You need to get out more,” I remarked drily. “Not everywhere in this universe is clean and friendly.” “You would know,” a new voice hissed from beside me. I felt a large pistol press against the side of my helmet. “Take a seat please. I think we have some things to discuss.” Naelah gasped as a second pistol came up in the gloom and pointed at her. Sterlo, ever the gentleman, stepped in front of the blaster, as if it would stop a blaster that size from ripping through the both of them at that close range. “Naelah, stay cool. Do as he says and sit down in the booth.” I gestured to the booth nearest her. She opened her mouth to say something, and I cut her off. “Do as I say and keep your mouth shut. Sit down. You too, Sterlo.” The two finally listened for once and eased into the booth. “Keep your hands on the table and don’t make any sudden moves.” I sat down at the end of the bench. Our new friend sat down across from us, both weapons still drawn. Once he sat, he put both blasters away. “Phiht Piroc! It’s been a while.” Brax lifted an arm and removed his helmet. The clone was scarred and grizzled. In turn, I removed my helmet. I have my share of scars, but I had nothing on the clone veteran. I have a long scar running over my right eye from a vibroblade several years ago, as well as another on my chin. A few days of stubble covered Brax’s chin, except where the pale scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t the most distinctive feature of his face, however. His right eye was replaced with a cybernetic eye. It didn’t even closely resemble an organic eye. It was lit a bright red, and the eerie effect was amplified by the smoke. The metal socket gave him a cyborg look in profile. The smile that stretched across his face seemed oddly out of place. “Indeed it has, old friend.” I shook his outstretched hand. I couldn’t help but turn and look at my two companions. Their looks of confusion and shock were priceless. “I need your help.” He laughed. “I can tell. The girl is worth a lot to certain Imperial agents.” Brax sighed and scratched his head. “The bounty stands at 75,000 credits, alive. And that’s a fifty percent increase from yesterday. You also have a price on your head, standing at thirty grand, so far. Aiding and abetting a fugitive, destruction of government property, attempted assassination of an Imperial official, and the list goes on.” “That’s disappointing. I thought I’d be worth more after all that.” I leaned forward. “I need weapons and transportation. And I have a ship I need to get rid of. It’s Imperial.” “There’s nothing I like more than destroying Imperial ships.” Brax grinned again. “And believe me, I have weapons to spare. Name it, and I’m sure I either have it or can acquire it.” I called up a hologram list from my suit’s gauntlet and scanned over it. The shuttle trip had been boring. “I need an assault rifle, preferably something with variable fire settings. And a scope,” I added. “Next, the girl needs something that isn’t prison garb.” Brax nodded. “I can tell she just got sprang. I’m assuming at least one of the crimes she’s wanted for includes escaping a prison.” I cocked an eyebrow. “You know what I’m wanted for, but not her?” I threw a thumb gesture in her direction. “She’s worth more.” “But she’s not half as interesting as you. And it’s always amusing to see what you’re doing out in the greater galaxy.” I just shook my head. “She needs something more along the lines of a jumpsuit, maybe with some armor. She needs more mobility than durability.” Brax nodded. “The boy will need a pistol. Compact, but respectable firepower.” “And knives!” Sterlo threw in. “I can do that,” Brax replied. “I’ve got a lot of knives.” He grinned wickedly. “Anything else?” “Transportation. Fast, armored, weaponry. You know what I like.” Brax shrugged. “I can find something. I have one question though: how do you intend to pay for all this?” “The girl’s daddy is the governor of Bilbringi. He spent his life savings for me to find her and now to get her to the Rebellion. I have the cash.” “I don’t doubt that,” Brax said. “I can have it tomorrow at midday for you. Be here.” I smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss it.” Brax got up to leave.“Also, one more thing. If you want to get her to the Rebellion, I recommend heading to Wild Space, specifically the Cattamascar system. That’s the only cell I can tell you for sure exists. Most have gone underground after the Yavin IV debacle.” I nodded. “Who am I looking for?” He flashed a wicked grin. “Another old acquaintance of yours. The pirate, Harkonen.” I scowled. “That’s not even funny.” “It’s your best hope. Take it or leave it.” “Fine,” I spat. “But in return, I’m going to need one more thing from you. Weapon-wise.” Brax’s head moved slightly, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?” I again gestured to Naelah. She froze, her eyes showing shock at being brought up again. A grin slowly spread across my face. “The girl needs a lightsaber.”
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