This, the Dusk Trooper concluded, was problematic.
He stood in the centre of the Sign of the Tri-Forked Tongue.
In the middle of a sea of corpses.
Someone had come into one of the most well-influenced, well-resourced and well-known criminal havens in Coruscant and unleashed hell.
He knew it wasn’t the Empire.
Or the Black Sun.
But what other rival gang had this much power or ferocity.
The Hutts? The Pykes? A resistance group?
Berec?
He ventured deeper into the den. More unfortunate sights met his eyes.
VIP rooms spattered with blood, corpses of rich crooks and their escorts strewn across beds and settees where they’d believed themselves safe to relax.
Smashed vaults, devoid of treasures, bodies of guards and accountants deposited within.
At the end of the tunnel was Hat Lo’s private trove.
The door had been opened cleanly.
The only thing inside was Seib Nodd.
Or what remained of her.
Her sordid story had come to a messy end. The woman been sliced in two, lengthwise from the top. Sizzling, black streaks across her body suggested she’d been tortured with an electro-whip, likely for the codes.
The Dusk Trooper was nonplussed.
A mixture of cunning efficiency and brutal savagery. What manner of organisation was capable?
A sinister drone playing at his nerves, he stepped outside of the vault and looked a moment at the keypad.
Pressing six buttons, he closed the door.
He stared at the outside of the door.
A cryptic symbol had been emblazoned upon it. A calling card.
Meant for him.
The Dusk Trooper’s teeth gritted behind his helmet.
‘Big mistake, old friend...Big, bloody mistake.’
*
The tall, green spires of Muunilinst made Feanor Rondel feel queasy.
The shuttle landed at the landing bay of the Banking Clan Main Vault Fortress. A collection of gaunt, gaudy Muuns awaited them.
One of them wore the colours of the Empire; Gahg Graemon, the Minister of Imperial Finance. One of the few aliens among the Imperial Inner Circle, sticking close to others like Amedda for safety.
Rondel despised him as he did all Muuns and indeed most aliens. He considered it a crime that one tied to one of the most prominent bastions of the Separatist corruption that had started the Clone Wars was allowed to sit at the helm of the New Order. But he was confident that Graemon wasn’t a threat.
Talented at his job he may have been, he was no San Hill. He lacked the tenacity to be treacherous.
That didn’t earn him any respect from Rondel however.
Disembarking, Rondel saluted beside Taubrey Terradoc and their entourage. The Muuns bowed, a curious sight from such thin creatures, appearing as though they bended their bodies into a complete right-angle.
“Esteemed officers.” Graemon greeted them “We received your wish to voice concerns among the Banking Clan’s foremost assembly. How may we be of service?”
Rondel raised an eyebrow with derision.
“Did we not make ourselves clear in our message?”
Graemon held up a hand effetely.
“I apologise but the Intergalactic Banking Clan are not permitted to hear or make requests via hologram.”
Terradoc scowled.
“You’ll do as the Empire command now. Or there won’t be any Banking Clan!”
That seemed to amuse the Muuns.
“First Lieutenant, with all due respect, banks cannot simply be removed, any more than the credits they hold.”
“Just show us what we need to see.” Feanor Rondel showed a hologram for a moment “I have here the warrant.”
“So you do.” Graemon nodded, his tall head bowing slowly and motioned his spindly fingers to lead them inside “Come along then, gentlemen."
Let inside the vaults, heady amber lights above them, Rondel cradled a blaster, looking to take some frustration out on the first banker that stepped out of line.
His father had been a banker, one of many on Humbarine who were put out of business by the ‘intergalactic’ banking firms, often run by Muuns along with Sullustans, Ishi Tib, Xexto and others. It was this that had contributed to a great deal of anti-alien sentiment on Humbarine and many other planets like it even before the war that had nearly destroyed the planet's civilisation. And it was very much reflected in Captain Feanor Rondel.
Gahg Graemon held up a hand as they stood before a vault with a great many blocked-off doors and passages.
“Why the...renovations?” Taubrey Terradoc asked sarcastically.
“This vault was built and named after a very prominent but rather...controversial figure of our organisation.” Graemon explained “Often, those he had dealings with had, shall we say, irregular ulterior motives.”
“The name of this figure?”
“Hego Damask...You’ve probably never heard of him.” He snapped his spiderleg-like fingers at two sour-faced Muuns in dark clothing “Card! Plain! Make yourselves useful.”
The two scowled at him but complied, trudging for the vault marked for Gume Saam.
“And they are?” Rondel asked.
“Nix Card and Mak Plain. Confirmed by Imperial Intelligence to have consorted with senators now regarded as enemies of the state.”
“So, you put them to work as drudges?”
“Well, it was either that or we feared we’d all go the same way as poor old ex-Chairman San Hill.”
“Now, we’ve been over this.” Terradoc snapped as Nix Card and Mak Plain feebly attempted to wrestle open the vault “Master Skywalker, acting on the orders of our esteemed Chancellor had gone to Mustafar to apprehend the leaders of the assorted Separatist organisations and bring them safely to Coruscant for trial. It was the Jedi Kenobi who attacked and murdered San Hill along with-”
Brkoom!
The marble floor was ripped from underneath their feet as Rondel, Terradoc, Graemon, four bankers and six stormtroopers were thrown across the corridor. A collosal explosion had torn Gume Saam’s vault apart and reduced Nix Card and Mak Plain to charred, matchstick-thin carcasses. One of them, it was impossible to tell which, had landed close to Gahg Graemon who gave a high-pitched scream, scrambling away frantically as service droids hurried to help them to their feet and extinguish the fires.
Rondel caught his breath, mopped his brow, swallowed his pride and turned to his First Lieutenant.
“Get Sloane on the comms.”
*
“Really?” Sloane hid a grin at the sound of her obnoxious captain’s frantic panicking “Goodness. It sounds like Senator Saam took a ‘If I can’t have it no-one can’ approach to his finances.”
“No, you stupid bint! Someone else rigged the vault!” Rondel shouted back, trying to heard over the emergency alarms and fire-droids.
“What vault was it precisely?” Rax butted in.
“Uh...The Hego Damask Vault.” the captain shook his head in frustration “They’ve found nothing on the security recordings! No-one’s been confirmed entering or leaving the vault since Saam disappeared. There’s no way anyone got in or out to do this and yet they did! Find out how!”
“...how exactly?”
“That’s your problem now!” Rondel snapped “So either find someone lower than you to lump it on or do your bloody job!” And with that the hologram shrunk and switched off.
He was in a worse mood than usual. He must have assumed that checking finances would be an easy job.
Rae rolled her eyes and turned to see Gallius Rax, unsurprisingly smiling.
“Alright. What do you know that I don’t?”
“Well, that’s a question with many answers.”
“About the vaults! I know how to read that cocky smile.”
Gallius Rax sighed, tilted his head to the left and right and spoke.
“Hego Damask II. Magister of the Intergalactic Banking Clan. Believed to have been the bearer of the moniker ‘Plagueis’, a Sith practitioner who trained, and was later murdered, by his unnamed apprentice. Said apprentice being the most likely mentor of the known enemies of the Republic and the Jedi Order, the Dathomirian Zabrak known only as Maul and the Serennoan Count and Confederacy Leader, Bradar Dooku.”
“Fascinating...” Rae wondered what it meant “And?”
Gallius shrugged.
“Just thought it was interesting. So, we were looking for the warehouse your moist little friend pointed us to?”
“She has a name.”
“I lost interest in that part.” He shrugged again.
“Come on.” Rae was grumbling under her breath. The sooner she was done with this, the better.
They didn’t need to look hard to find preserved gorg on Scampac Street. One could smell it from a mile off. The Koorivar Tailors could be found by the head-scarves with openings at the top for their distinctive cranial horns. Between them was a deep but narrow alleyway that had seen better days, though however long ago was uncertain.
Walking in, hoping Gallius Rax didn’t look too conspicuous, they went further and further down until they came to a trash-littered dead-end, a metal-grate door to the side of them with a switch that looked barely functional.
Rae paused, examining the tatters on the ground.
“Someone’s been here.” She brushed her hand over the crumpled paper and foils “Someone’s fallen flat around here...and some of these scraps have booster burns. Probably from a van or a truck.”
“Indeed. And once you’re finished with your phenomenal impression of a scurrier, shall we indulge our curiosity further within?” Rax gestured to the door.
“Don’t patronise me.” Rae gave him what must have been her thirty-eighth scowl that day as he got to his feet and examined the door switch, cracking open the wire frame and drawing a few lock-picking appliances she’d kept from her police days and held onto. As she leafed through the wiring and switches, she noticed the lock mechanism was actually very advanced, at least five years younger than the switch itself. Someone had been upgrading the locking mechanisms at least twice without changing how it looked at all.
If that didn’t scream ‘Shady Poodoo Inside’, she didn’t know what did.
Before she could pull it apart, Gallius waved a fob in front of her face. The door switch gave a drone and the grate slowly rose.
Rae blinked.
“How did you...”
Gallius gave a childish grin, showing off the fob as if it were an expensive toy.
“ISB gem right here. Opens every door in the Core Worlds”
Rae examined it. Her eyes widened with alarm.
“This is Yularen’s!”
“I know” Gallius shrugged nonchalantly “I pickpocket him when he bores me. You can keep this one if you like. I’ve got plenty.”
“Rax...” Rae said flatly “You scare me.”
“I know.” he replied with a smile, gesturing to the open door “Though not as much as this place, I can tell.”
“You know then?” The lieutenant supposed “You know what this place is.”
“I don’t need to be me to know, in this case.” He genuinely looked excited “This is the lost sanctuary of your old nemesis, Gabo the Wicked. Where he ‘worked his magic’ on twenty-four innocent young girls.”
“It could have been thirty if I’d let him have his way the same way most of the unit did.” Rae growled bitterly.
“Eight still haven’t turned up. This place may tell a pretty tale.” Gallius replied “It still hasn’t been too long since he was dead, has it?”
“Third day of the Empire.” Rae said “It’ll always be a special day for me.”
She remembered it well. Straight after the speech to all officers by Captain Lorth Needa, Rae Sloane went straight to one of the dodgy clubs she knew Gabo frequented. She'd fetched a few guards and hauled him out. She then convinced a few girls who knew enough about what the filthy creature did in his spare time to convince a court. Gabo spat threats all the while, expecting to walk just like the last four times and go back to turning young girls into horror-shows on the street by the next day.
She couldn’t decide what she’d found sweeter.
The look on his face when the judge had pronounced him guilty as charged...
The look on his face when he found he was sentenced to firing squad...
Or the look on his face as he watched her and twelve others press their triggers...
Gabo the Wicked had died as he lived, in tears, blood and filth.
She was dreading what she might find inside the hideout they never found.
Gallius meanwhile, had not a hint of fear on his pale, schoolboy face.
“Shall we?”
*
Pip’s ears twitched as a familiar voice sounded gently close by.
“Good morning, my little lumkin. Coming down for breakfast?”
‘Lumkin’. He’d been called that as early as he could remember but he’d only recently learned what it actually meant. He’d asked Patch the librarian on a visit and it turned out it meant ‘child of light’, after the Old Equestrian word ‘lum’ meaning a star that shines at day. The word was now tossed around various communities.
But there was only one pony he knew who always called him that.
“Mummy?”
Blinking, he rose from his pillow as his mother, Nancy, came in with a smile, sipping a mug of morning tea and bringing in a cup of orange juice, putting it on the little desk in his bedroom where he made his drawings.
The smell of margarine melting on freshly-baked bread and jam of berries and cherries wafted upstairs.
“I know it’s the start of the holidays but there’s no need to sleep all day.” she chuckled “You’ll want to eat quickly. Your friends outside have come all this way just to see you.” His mother opened the curtains, letting in the golden light of early summer in Trottingham. Pip brushed the sleep out of his eyes and mane and glanced out the window. Under the chestnut trees outside their home that were already heavy with swelling conkers, stood two fillies.
Tootsie Flute was waving to him with her giddy little smile.
And beside her...
Dinky Doo beamed as brightly as the sun. Her flax-gold mane dancing in the summer breeze, her cheeks going rosy as he smiled back.
He couldn’t believe his luck.
Waking up to such a beautiful morning, her friends coming all the way over to see him at home. He’d always wanted to know what they thought of Trottingham.
For once, everything seemed perfect.
...
‘Oh’
His face fell.
“What’s wrong, love?” His mother asked, with her sympathetic smile.
Pipsqueak looked up at her, barely hiding tears in his eyes.
“This is a dream, isn’t it.”
Everything suddenly lost its movement. Things went still, all except the muzzle of Nancy.
The gentle face of his mother sunk into itself. His entire bedroom was sucked into a silent hole. All light and noise and warmth disappeared in an instant.
The cold, hard floor and the stink of the warehouse interior rushed back to meet him so fast, it could have been grounds for assault. The smell was nearly choking him. He’d been afraid of falling asleep for fear of suffocating.
The place had succeeded in thoroughly frightening him in the first hour he’d spent here. And while he wasn’t cuffed anymore, he didn’t fancy exploring any more of this place. There was no telling what he might find, and not in a good way.
He’d just huddled, trying not to notice how chilly and thirsty he was.
He looked at the way out again for what may have been the fourth time.
He felt like chancing it. But every time he reminded himself he wasn’t in Equestria and anything could go wrong here in ways he couldn’t imagine.
As if to prove that thought, he heard the grate give a screech and crunch as it opened up.
He backed into the shelf, searching for anywhere he could hide but his thoughts weren’t quick enough.
Steps slammed down the stairs and a figure spun round, a blaster in her hands.
“ISB! Hands in the air...or...hooves?”
“Rae!” Pipsqueak exclaimed, feeling his heart slamming against the inside of his chest as Rae Sloane stood in the doorway, staring at the little colt she’d believed vanished.
“Pip!” She put away her blaster and rushed over to him, picking him up and rubbing the back of his neck “Stars above! What are you doing here?!”
“I was in the box when it got stolen?!”
“You’re kidding! Did you see who did it?”
“Yes! I know their names too!”
“Great! That’s great!” Rae was too shocked to fully go over everything she’d thought about “Okay, we need to get down to the garrison and get this all down!”
“Ah, young Pipsqueak. How are we this morning?” Gallius strolled in. Rae found it irritating that he greeted him as if he’d only seen him yesterday.
Then she remembered that was pretty much the case.
He gazed around and sniffed loudly, coughing slightly with a closed-mouth.
“Ah...putrefaction. Unmistakably. We’ll want to have a crew dig up the place later. Might find one of the missing eight.”
“Missing what?” Pipsqueak’s ears pricked.
“Nothing, Pip. Don’t worry about it.” Rae gave him an awkward smile, turning to the shelves.
She found the box and retrieved it, checking the contents.
“Did the thieves say who wanted this?”
“More than that!” Pip exclaimed “I saw Hat Lo!”
That got their attention. Rae and Gallius craned down and listened intently.
“Do tell.” Gallius said.
“Well, Hat Lo didn’t like me. He was working with this Saam fellow. There was an inspector who was working with him. Pot-belly, face like a fish.”
“Tan Divo.” They both said at once.
“He wanted what was in the box. It’s stuff about the police officers. They mentioned Salima. And Yularen, I think.”
Rae stared at the box.
“Blackmail?” she exclaimed “This explains why Lo’s been getting away with everything for so long. That pop-eyed git, Divo’s, been covering for him!”
“Can I take a little look?” Gallius said cheekily, craning his head over the box.
“Not on your life.” Rae snapped it shut “Besides, if you’re as clever as you think you are, none of this will be new to you.”
She paused a moment.
“Hold on, that doesn’t make sense. Why would this box be full of blackmail material and be given into our hands? And the only way they’d be able to sneak into our safehouse and snatch it is if this whole thing was planned!”
“Someone’s playing poor old Moff Kaine.” Rax tutted in faux-pity.
“Or he’s playing us.” Rae growled “We need to get to the garrison. There’re people I can trust there. We can explain everything.”
“What is this place?” Pip tugged at her sleeve “Please, I need to know.”
Rae gave a grim look and spoke softly.
“This is where a...very awful criminal worked. Well, not so much worked. He...tortured people, young women. I’m afraid that’s all I feel right telling you, Pip, it’s for your own good. He’s not a danger anymore, I made sure of that.”
“But...what’s the smell?”
“Uh...mostly the paint. But...a lot of it’s from what he did. Trust me Pip, you don’t want to know.”
“She’s mostly right, honestly. You don’t want to know.” Gallius said, giving a grin “Unless you’re like me.” He sniffed at the air again “There’s just one odour I can’t quite put my finger on. What is it...Ryll? No, Balo Mushroom? Ah, Ixetal!”
“Death Stick...”
Gallius noticed that Rae and Pip were looking at the doorway.
He turned around to the same angle.
“...Ah...”
Two figures stood in the doorway. Armed and, from the looks of it, dangerous.
One was a muscular, dark-skinned human, tattooed, shaved-head and thin-bearded. He was dressed in off-world garb, likely from Hutt Space. His nose was crooked, likely broken more than once, and there was a faint scar across the right-side of his lips. His eyes were small and yellow, a sign of spice use, and both of them were fixed on the three menacingly. He was cradling a stun baton with prongs and studs that suggested they were meant for far more than just stunning.
He was smoking a death stick.
The other was a young female, probably the first and only to walk into the room with a smile on her face. She was a Zeltron with long ebony hair that hung down in curls right down to below her elbows. Her eyes and cheeks were shaded a dark indigo and her lips were painted midnight-blue. She was dressed in somewhat skimpy clothing, not suitable for grunt-work Rae had always thought, teal and lilac with braces around her wrists and ankles and a leather belt over her shoulder to her hip to provide some small amount of armour. She had a small vibroblade she was twirling round in her hand.
Gallius Rax glanced at the bronze-coloured tank with a black nozzle the man was carrying and the false-gold coated firebombs at his belt.
He gave an awkward look.
“Is this what the journalists are wearing nowadays? Or are you here to get rid of the evidence?”
The Zeltron gave them a sardonic smirk.
“You really ought to keep your noses out of other people’s business.” she said slowly “It’s against the rules.”
“Just as well we’re the ones who make them.” Rae said sternly, placing Pip on top of the shelves out of harm’s way, and drew a police baton. The Imperial issue were double-ended, held in two hands or one, and its wielders trained in the academy in how to use them properly.
Gallius Rax had a spark-crop, a small electro-whip that worked more like a birch or a cane. Delivered a greater shock but flimsier as a sidearm. Rae imagined it suited him.
Firing a blaster could cause a lethal accident for all of them. With what may well have been flammable liquids about and who knew what on the shelves, it was better to settle things in close-quarters.
“Right chaps, shall we dance a while?” Rax chuckled “How about you, Miss Sloane? Would you like some strong hands round your neck or do you still prefer the woman’s touch?”
As Rae cast him an irritated look, the newcomers smiled.
“Just one minute, ladies.” the man held up one finger then poked his head round the doorway, calling out.
“Oh Thracca?”
There was a pause.
Then Rae, Gallius and Pip grew aware of slow, heavy thuds down the stairs.
Footsteps.
A mountain walked in, garbed in the gear of an Outlander thug with bands of bones and teeth slung around this and that.
The thugs smiled as Thracca introduced himself.
A fully-grown Wookiee, slate-furred, pitted with pale, hairless scars, one eye replaced by a bronze cap with a skull engraved into it. His shaggy hands and feet were capped by bands of solid iron. Slowly, growling softly all the while, he spread his arms out before him and, as quick as the snap of an anooba, slammed his fists against his chestplate, baring his fangs and snarling.
“Grrrrraaaauuuuunnnfff!”
Pip stared at the beast with boggle-eyed horror. Rae and Gallius glanced at the Wookiee, then each other, then the Wookiee again.
Gallius Rax gave an uncomfortable smile.
“Do you want that one, Miss Sloane, or should I try my luck?”
“Whatever you think would be wise, Mr Rax...” She said flatly.
Rax nodded and turned to face the colt, shrugging apologetically.
“Pip, my lad, the big fellow’s all yours.”
*
Ardus Kaine checked his hair in the mirror.
People always kept saying he was growing it like Tarkin. Just to impress him.
It was a lie. He was growing it like his distant uncle, Angus Kaine. The Sentinel of Sartinaynian as he was known, while he’d only been a mere captain in the Planetary Armed Forces, he died valiantly fighting the Zygerrian Slaver Fleet, protecting who knew how many from a life and death in chains.
It was his bravery that had convinced him that a soldier’s life was for him, not a career spent fussing over figures, trade tariffs and lawsuits. His father hadn’t been too appreciative but Ardus was intent on showing him, even four long years after his death.
He wasn’t a sycophant. Tarkin had no need of those. Some other Grand Moffs and figureheads required damp-haired little lickspittles nibbling at their coat-tails night and day but the Hammer of Eriadu was made of sterner stuff.
‘He wasn’t a sycophant’, he reminded himself again. ‘He would get by in his own way’.
But a childhood spent examining financial figures and practicing court speeches had gained him little respect amongst the military elite and their children had been worse.
He did not have pleasant memories of the academy.
At a social gathering, Ardus had once chanced upon both Grand General Cassius Tagge and High Admiral Conan Antonio Motti and asked them both how to rise up the ranks.
Tagge had stated plainly that the Empire admired loyalty, dedication, intuition, wit, no small amount of cunning and a certain degree of charm. Not too difficult to pick up if one learned from the best.
While Motti had taken him aside and said something quite different.
“See, young Ardus, the only real advice an ‘up-and-comer’ needs in Imperial High Command is this; Find the biggest, most powerful, most goddamn dreaded son-of-a-mastiff in your Oversector...and weld your lips to their balls.”
He wasn’t too fond of that man. Despite how grandly they held themselves, everyone knew the Motti’s were common as muck. Though Motti wasn’t a talentless individual by any means, by far his greatest achievement was marrying his harridan of a sister to Wilhuff Tarkin, for all the good it had done either of them.
The Kaines were different. Or would be different once Ardus had given a name worth speaking of.
His uniform was a slightly different colour to the standard set. Once one was a Moff or a similar standing, one could do things to stand out. It often paid to do so, provided one knew how to keep out of trouble.
His garb was a dull teal, not too far from the standard grey but distinct enough. A small strap of bronze decorated his left shoulder. Some would say it was a bit overblown for what was simply a celebration before he disembarked. But it was customary for someone of his rank.
Actually, strictly speaking, it wasn’t. He would have to have been a Grand Admiral at the very least to request his own salutary parade before disembarking for war. These things had to be arranged by a higher authority.
And everyone around knew the only higher authority Kaine was close to.
The officer’s cheek gave a twitch in frustration.
Wilhuff was doing it on purpose. He knew Ardus wasn’t a sycophant but he’d make everyone thought he was in order to put a leash on him. Not out of spite or arrogance; Tarkin didn’t act out pettiness, Ardus had found; but mostly for security’s sake in the worst-case scenario. People were more likely to report Ardus, or any other officer, going off on his own if they never thought he had it in him. And Wilhuff was making them think that.
He wasn’t the first either.
He had to admit, it was clever. But it didn’t make it any less degrading.
“Ardus? It’s not like you to keep us waiting.”
He smiled as an officer strode up the corridor. His uniform was slightly maroon with a collar studded with amber stones. He was taller than Ardus by at least a full head and built like a gundark (Without the second pair of arms of course). His skin was dark and slightly weathered and his eyes were chestnut-brown and keen as a knife. Ironic that Ardus had been worrying about his hair while this man had none. On his head anyway. His beard was an impressive one. Thick, coal-black, sloping right round his chin to the thin strips before his ears. He had a few scars from the battles he’d seen, not enough to determine each one though.
“Belisarius.” Ardus gave him a friendly nod, hands behind his back in bashfulness “I always thought you were the patient type.”
Belisarius Randd-Geist was also someone Tarkin had high hopes for. The Grand Moff had often partnered the two on important missions. Perhaps he felt they complimented each other. They were polar opposites in more than just appearance. While Ardus was quick but calculating, quick-witted, pin-pointing weak spots and never afraid to tell someone when they needed to get their act together, Belisarius was slow but steady, straightforward, always defending vital points and holding the line and held those under his command in great respect which was very much returned in kind. Both had been groomed by the Grand Moff to guard him and his interests with utmost dedication.
“Devian will be glad to see the back of me, I suppose.” Ardus chuckled.
“Actually, he’s not at the parade.” Belisarius said “Isard’s man, Brothic is serving as his eyes but that Ugnaught-faced loon, Enix Devian’s nowhere to be seen.”
“Hopefully he’s sitting in the corner after Ysanne had to give him a spanking.”
Belisarius raised his eyebrow.
“Does she do that?”
Ardus gave him a look. It wasn’t that Belisarius was unfamiliar with sarcasm but he seemed to regard nothing as a joke or even insincere. Generally, you were rarely expected to in Imperial Command.
He simply shrugged.
“It would explain his attitude.” Ardus muttered as the doors to the shuttle bay opened.
An assortment of officers, great and small, applauded him in unison.
“Give ‘em hell, Ardie!”
“Give Berec a smack for me!”
“If you find any Namana trees, the leaves make great tea.”
“Ardy!”
A young woman in a silver and lilac dress rushed forward. Ardus Kaine didn’t smile much as a rule, never had, but this was enough to bring a beam to his face.
“Hello, Yimi. This is a nice surprise.”
She flew into his chest. She’d been crying.
“Please don’t go into battle. Please stay at the headquarters and keep safe...for me?”
Sighing, Ardus stroked his fiancé’s hair and patted her back.
To his memory, the Bescanean beauty, Yimi Dekeet was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to him. She was lithe and delicate, almost unworldly. Slender and small with large indigo eyes framed by pale lashes; soft, pale, porcelain skin, near translucent. Her lips and eyelids were coloured finely, not too vibrantly, with a light blossom pink.
He’d grown up with Yimi when they were both sent to the Bastion College of Law and she was the only thing that ever would make him look forward to taking time at home during his Academy years. He and she had both hid their tears when her father announced her marriage to the repugnant Marquis Hynerian Torpin of Reynon. Though rich and pretty, the whole Oversector knew of his depravities.
During what they’d thought to be the last time they’d ever see each other again, Ardus had given Yimi a secret transmitter to call for his help if her husband ever tried anything.
But fortune had decided to play a funny trick. Not a week into marriage, Marquis Hynerian Torpin had been killed in his brand-new pleasure space-cruiser he’d been testing by the invading IBC battle-fleet of Overseer Juhm. Yimi Dekeet and many others in the sector had been captured and held on Gwori either for ransom or for chains. In what was his first real battle, Ardus Kaine had commanded a ship and taken part in the relief effort. The rescue romance became a favourite among Holonet readers though what he remembered most was the gaggle of aliens queing up to shake his hands or kiss his cheeks for his bravery.
Aliens. Thanking him.
Deep down, he’d never really thought they were all bad.
“Yimi.” he said gently “I’ll be back safe before you know it.”
“But...you’re going to meet Berec!” she looked at him pleadingly “He’s a monster! He...he cuts off heads!”
“He won’t be getting mine any time soon. I promise you that.”
“Please don’t joke about this!” Yimi sniffed, trying to hide her tears. Most of the crowd pretended not to look. Ardus knew for a fact that somewhere, Tarkin was watching and wondering how this could benefit him.
“Please...don’t leave me alone.”
“Yimi, I promise.” he looked into her eyes calmly and gently “Nothing will stop me coming back home safe. I have good men beside me and the best defences the Empire can provide. I’ll be back, that is a promise, a solemn vow.”
Looking after Yimi had been something of a difficult road in itself. She’d always been somewhat frail, ate little and had been sickly for most of her life, the scars her father and ex-husband left doing little to help matters. Her hands shook when stressed, often meaning she couldn’t relax in her hobbies of harp-playing or weaving.
But Ardus wouldn’t give up on her. He wasn’t some hopeless romantic but Yimi meant a lot to him.
She was the only woman who knew how to make him laugh.
Kissing her on the forehead, the dainty girl reaching to kiss him on the nose, he waved the crowds goodbye and stepped aboard the Reaper.
“Bakura then.” he beckoned to the crew as the hum of the engines grew gradually louder.
He dreaded to imagine what Batch and Tigellinus had done with the fleet so far.
If half the stories about them were true, Berec would be the least of their dangers.
He took one last look out the rear window as the officers, along with Yimi, waved him goodbye.
He'd come far. He had to remind himself. And if all went well, he'd go further.
Just as long as Rae Sloane could be counted on as much as he'd been told.
*
It seemed there was no time like the present.
The thugs moved in.
Gallius Rax threw his crimson cloak at Thracca and held his crop behind his back. The Wookie growled in frustration as he wrestled the fabric out of his face.
The Zeltron tossed her knife from hand to hand and grinned, speaking sultrily.
“I will cut you open, schutta, and I will enjoy every moment. I wonder if you-”
Crnk!
The Zeltron was pretty. On a good day, she’d hate to spoil that. But a knife in her hand and a loose tongue was more than enough reason for Rae to land a swift punch on her nose. The girl squealed in pain and shock, grabbing her face and staring at the Lieutenant.
Rae Sloane wasted no time. Landing a kick between the Zeltron’s legs then tugging the back of her opponent’s hair to knock her face and the hands that covered it into her rising knee, she followed up by grabbing her by the collar and belt and hauling her off the ground.
“Less chatter! More splatter!”
With full force, she flung her adversary straight at the filth-spattered toilets. There was a smash and a scream she turned away from as Thracca loomed over her.
The other henchman made to draw his baton.
“Nope.”
Lightning-fast, Rax slapped the man’s hand with his crop. Drawing back with a flinch, staring at the agent with disbelief, the henchman reached for his baton again.
“Nope.” Rax smacked the hand with his crop again and again “Nope. Nope. Nope.”
“Frak this!” The henchman landed a punch into Gallius’s face. Falling against the shelf, he shook his head, more irritated by his messed-up hair than his injury.
Pip, meanwhile, clambered over the shelves and made himself useful throwing things. He narrowly avoided a blow from Thracca and noticed the Zeltron, far less clean and a lot angrier, lunging at Rae.
“Look out!”
The lieutenant grabbed the knife-hand as it came forward and wrested it into the side of the shelf. The girl dropped her weapon and made to scratch at Rae’s eyes, failing to pull more than her hair before she was thrown again, through the shelves.
“Mr Rax!” Pip called out “Watch your left!”
“What?” Gallius turned back to him as his opponent drew his baton and caught him by the shoulder, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.
“No! My left!”
The ISB Agent shot Pipsqueak a resentful glare.
“You’re real bloody help, aren’t you!”
“Yes, actually”
Something round, light but somewhat spiky bounced straight into the henchman’s face. Grabbing his eye in pain with a growl, he released Rax who began thoroughly clouting him with the crop before a punch to the gut disorientated him.
Grabbed by the collar again, it became a frantic tug-of-war.
Thracca meanwhile tried to wrestle control of Rae’s staff, pulling it back and then shoving forward in an instant, slamming against Rae’s forehead. Dazed, the lieutenant could do nothing as Thracca wrapped his thick, hairy fingers round her neck, raising her high into the air as she kicked hectically.
“Oh goodness!” Pipsqueak whimpered, frantically looking for a way to help either party. As if that weren’t bad enough, the red woman was getting up and noticed him perched atop the shelves between the two brawls.
In the midst of his panic, a thought struck.
“Hey, lady! You look prettier after that shower over there! And smell better!” he jeered atop the shelf, hopping on his little hooves and sticking out his tongue.
With a growl, her eyes twitching ferally, she made a grab for him. The foal jumped onto the next shelf as the Zeltron reached further.
With a horrid creak, the shelves toppled. One after the other, like giant, dirty dominos, the thin black shelves went down.
Leaping over them, catching his balance, Pip yelled at the Wookie holding his guardian.
“Oi! Teddy Bear!”
Thracca had just enough time to turn, his hands still clutched tight around Rae’s throat, giving a dog-like whimper.
“Picnic’s Over! Time for bed!”
The enormous Wookie disappeared under the avalanche.
Taking the advantage, Gallius kicked out at his foe, pushing himself back against the shelf which fell into the Zeltron, pinning her unconscious underneath.
As Pip jumped forward, he rolled, landed in Gallius’s lap, picked up the nearest weapon he could find and jammed it into the henchman’s knee.
There was a buzzing sound as the man jolted wildly a moment before Rae rushed over and socked him thoroughly across the jaw.
The interlopers were out for the count. The day was won.
All three of them breathed a sigh of relief. Gallius Rax picked up the foal, stood up and plonked him back on the fallen shelves.
“Did you actually just come up with that yourself?” he said, distinct esteem in his voice.
“What, the plan?”
“The one-liner." Rax chuckled "'Teddy-Bear. Picnic's over. Time for bed'? Not bad at all.”
“Well...both, actually.” the little pinto shuffled his hooves bashfully. Rae ruffled his mane fondly.
“You’re one in a million, kid...But you might want to put that down.”
Pip glanced at the weapon he’d used to shock the enemy henchman. It looked like a long-handled shiny black rubber hammer but very hard, quite knobbly and was vibrating for some reason.
“...what is it?” Pip asked, befuddled.
“Kid.” Rae gently took it off him and threw it in the jumble “You don’t want to know.”
Reaching over, she retrieved the box, largely undamaged, and put it under her shoulder.
“Pip, fancy travelling in this again?” Gallius waved his hands at it.
“Well, alright...” Pip mumbled “As long as you keep the top open. And...if it’s not too much trouble, can we stop for something to eat and drink? I’m really thirsty. And I missed breakfast.”
“Well, I suppose.” Rae gave a shrug. “We’re not that far from the garrison and we have our stuff back.”
“Plus if Lo’s thugs are on our trail, they’ll be looking for people in a rush.”
“I don’t think these are Lo’s. They would have guarded the place if they were, not broken in after us.” Rae massaged her neck and noticed something that had fallen off of Thracca. A small pendant on a string that had landed around her arm.
The pendant was wooden, rectangular and inscribed with an odd symbol.
She looked it over.
“Mean anything to you, Rax?”
The ISB Agent raised one eyebrow.
“Hm...New to me, sad to say. Some kind of tribal glyph?”
Pip eyed it.
“It...looks like some kind of shapes test...but orange.”
It was three-pronged southwards, the centre prong split down the middle and the two on either side facing out diagonally and curling like talons with a small plate underneath at each corner.
“Bane might know.” Sloane supposed.
Gallius Rax gave her an unimpressed glance.
“Whether he knows and whether he’s willing to say are two mutually exclusive elements, Miss Sloane.”
Making their way outside, bright, colourless lights shone in front of them. Thin, ungainly droids stepped forward.
“Attention!” one of them warbled “You are trespassing on a designated crime scene. Please accompany your neighbourhood police droids to the underlevel holding cells.”
Rae rolled her eyes.
“We’ll save you a trip. We’re officers of the Imperial Garrison.” she explained “We’re on investigations. We need to see the Grand Commandant.”
The police droid paused a moment.
“No trespassing is permitted on designated crime scenes. Please accompany your neighbourhood police droids to the underlevel holding cells.”
“No, no, we’re not trespassing! We’re investigating!”
“No investigating is permitted on designated crime scenes.”
“What?!”
“Please accompany your neigh-”
The droid’s head suddenly snapped back, fizzling with blue and yellow electricity. In another instant, the other police droids did the same, falling to the ground like thin, broken trees.
Rae and Pip stared at Gallius Rax, a smoking blaster in his hand.
“Boring conversation anyway.” he muttered.
“What are you doing?!" Rae exclaimed "Those were police droids!”
“Tan Divo’s police droids!” Gallius barked “The one working with Lo! Remember?!”
“Right, right, I...” Rae’s eyes suddenly snapped open, face a picture of terror.
“Suui! I left droids like them at her safehouse!”
*
Suui Do couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a proper shower.
In Nautolans, that was a serious issue. Dehydration would leave them sluggish, disorientated, highly suggestible. This often allowed slavers or exploiters to more easily control them.
Turning off the water, she reached in her wardrobe.
Rae would be there some point in the afternoon.
Suui had been allowed to keep most of her things from her time working in the industry. Checking a small mirror, she picked out a set of lingerie and tested them.
‘Yes’ she thought ‘Rae will like these’.
She heard the door give a swish as it opened.
Hopping on her feet, she scampered into the living room.
“Rae!” she giggled “I found a nice suit. You’ll want to...”
She stopped. Her sheer black eyes widened with horror. She took a step back.
Standing in the doorway was not the beautiful defender who served as the guardian angel of so many young Coruscanti girls. Instead, there was a Leffingite, squat, hunched and grinning.
Mumpfasoom had a knife in his hand.
Suui felt her entire body shaking. Mumpfasoom must have liked that. He took a step forward, his grip on his knife tightening.
“No...Not you...” Suui whimpered.
Mumpfasoom gave a giggle, his four eyes cold and hungry.
“Rae will be here soon!” Suui held up her hands “She got Gabo and she’ll get you!”
The Leffingite licked the air and lumbered forward. With a scream, Suui ran into the bedroom and armed herself with a lamp. She turned around too late. With a lurch, Mumpfasoom grabbed her and pinned her to the ground. Trying to kick him away to no avail, she watched in horror as the knife rose.
“Rae!” she wailed “Help me! Please! Somebody!”
“Mumpfasoom.”
A calm but commanding voice overtook Suui’s screams and her attacker’s giggles. The Leffingite turned his head to see a man in a long cloak and a Mandalorian helmet pointing two blasters at him.
The Dusk Trooper’s voice was low and emotionless.
“Let her go and leave immediately and I’ll let you live.”
Mumpfasoom gave a growl, his beaky mouth cracking in frustration.
The helmed figure stepped forward, his blasters nearly resting against the thug’s back.
“Your employer has been betrayed. Criminals far worse than him have manipulated all of us. You should head back to him and gain some semblance of safety. It really would be wiser.”
With a grunt, Mumpfasoom demonstrated the exception he took to that suggestion, throwing a backwards punch that caught the Dusk Trooper across the face. The helmet came loose and the trooper fell into the corner of the room.
Mumpfasoom pounced at him with a roar.
The noise was drowned out, however, as the scream of blaster fire echoed across the safehouse.
A hail of plasma from the Trooper’s guns caught the Leffingite squarely in the eyes. He fell to his knees silently, his face reduced to a charred mess, before crumpling to the ground.
The Butcher of Almak would shed no more blood.
The shaking Suui Do got to her feet, helping the Dusk Trooper up.
“Th-thank you...”
“None needed. I am with Lieutenant Sloane. Complications arose which prevented her arrival. As such I acted in her stead.”
“I know. Thank you. Thank you, I...” Picking up the helmet and holding it toward her rescuer, she nearly dropped it.
Where she’d expected to see the face of the average clone trooper, instead she saw someone very different.
“You’re...Oh my stars, you’re...”
“Madam, I must insist that you do not finish that sentence.” Just as emotionlessly, the Dusk Trooper placed his helmet back upon his head “I can assure you, my intentions are benign and Rae Sloane is safe in my company.”
He spoke sternly, putting away his blasters, holding his hands on them meaningfully.
“But if you divulge this information to her or any other...I will have to kill you.”
There was a pause.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. I promise you nothing but absolute safety as long as you keep what you’ve seen strictly to yourself.”
He picked up the body of Mumpfasoom, something that required more than average strength, and said one last thing before leaving.
“The lingerie looks rather nice. But just so you know, I heard Rae prefers red.”
*
“Okay...Okay, thank you. Thank you so much...” Rae found her breath coming back as she spoke into her commlink “Nice work, Dusk...You mind if I call you Dusk? Yeah, great. Yeah, put her over, just for a quick word.”
Pip listened, he knew Rax was doing the same, as Rae spoke sweeter through the comms.
“Okay, Suui, that’s great. Sorry for letting this happen. Who do they have coming? Oicunn Jr? Yeah, he’s decent. Averen, he’s a bit of a tosser but he’s harmless. Don’t worry. Yeah, I’ll come visit this evening. Promise...Yeah, red’s great, baby. See ya.” She kissed the air and turned to sit down.
The cantina was just a few steps away from the garrison. The bartender and most of the staff were humans but there were a few aliens among the clientele, though they either owned property and businesses or they worked with the force in some way. Rae sat down and dug into her barbecued nerf and tato wrap.
“Are you actually going to eat that?” Rax said with a raised eyebrow.
Rae raised her own.
“No, I’m going to wear it as a swimsuit.” she retorted sarcastically.
“You are what you eat.” The agent muttered as he pulled out a small box. Opening it, he began dining on what must have been a home-made (Wherever his home was) salad. He even had his own small shaker of salt, pepper and spices.
Of course, she doubted he was genuinely a health enthusiast. She just knew he didn’t trust anyone else making him food.
Pip meanwhile slurped at a smoothie in between munches of crispy tanga dumplings in a peppy brown sauce on a bed of sliced greens and peppers.
Rae took the opportunity to buy Pip a frosty milkshake before leaving for the garrison. She felt it was the least she owed him for what he’d been through and for how he helped in the fight.
Carrying him over to the garrison, she finally felt safe and sound.
Tan Divo was nowhere to be seen. Though there was no telling if he’d got there before they had.
“I’ll, ah...wait by the entrance.” Rax said “There’s been a bit of bad blood between me and certain members of Coruscant’s finest. And I’ve a few calls to make.”
“Don’t let us keep you.” It had been the nicest thing Rae had heard from Rax all day.
Honor Salima was perched over at her desk with the grace and posture of an Aiwha. A trim, tanned, steel-eyed woman with side-shaved hair that was slate-black and stiff. She gave off the impression of a no-nonsense senior officer who let nothing fall out of place and stood for no amount of insubordination.
But of course, that impression was considered fashionable. Sloane and Salima had worked together in many fiascos and she wasn’t afraid to dodge a few regulations to get the best result. And in the Empire, the result was what mattered.
She was in her element.
Two other officers were with her, a young man and woman. The man was fairly unremarkable but Rae knew him well.
Ross Yularen, the Senior Secretary’s second son. A dutiful but quiet boy, he was growing a moustache like his father, his chestnut-brown hair still a long way to go before greyness. He'd been in the next grade down from Rae at the academy and they'd both had their first mission together in a riot control operation.
The girl was his little sister, Beorna. Long, curly brown hair, fierce feline eyes and a slight build, she made up for in will what she lacked in size. A headstrong young madam, while she’d follow orders properly, she was often one to make a bit of a scene and this came with both benefits and problems to the garrison. Beorna was familiar to Rae as well. She’d trained her in her early years and regarded her as something of a little sister.
“Divo’s dumb droids need to be scrapped! They’re everywhere we go with the same old excuse! Wait for the investigation squad! Which one!” Beorna was yelling in her shrill, stubborn tone “Some of them have been hanging around the same spot for weeks!”
“I have explained the problem to Divo and his associates. He is due to see us this evening.” Salima said plainly “You can give him all the grief you like then.”
“Maybe more than grief.” Rae butted in.
“Sloane.” Salima gave a smile, getting up from her desk and giving her a hug.
“Rae!” Beorna exclaimed and joined the hug.
Pip found himself wedged underneath the three.
Now, he was certain, his mother really wouldn’t approve.
“Hello, Rae. Glad you see you.” Ross Yularen seemed the most modest in the room.
“Hey Ross. How’s your mum?”
“Better. Thanks for asking.” he shuffled nervously “Uncle Jan’s another matter but dad’s still getting him to understand.”
“Well, well, who said you could start without me?”
A jovial voice sounded as an older man swaggered in in the gear of a district commissar. A chisel-jawed, blue-eyed, bright-smiled officer with a head of curly ginger hair with impressive sideburns and a small beard held up his hands as if to announce himself.
“Lieutenant Rae Sloane!” he laughed “Still shagging your way across Coruscant, eh?”
“Crass as always, Alix Balam.” Sloane chuckled, prising free of the hug and slapping her hand against his.
“Um...hello everyone.” Pip murmured, holding up his empty milkshake cup “Does anyone have a bin?”
There was a pause. Beorna Yularen bent down and gave an adoring smile.
“Aw! Who’s this little guy?!” she cooed.
“Squad mascot.” Sloane said “His name’s Pipsqueak. You got my message, right?”
“Yeah, sit down.” Honor said. Behind them, Parisian entered, saluted, and took a seat between the Yularens, old academy friends.
“We’ve got Saam ready to be questioned and I’ve secured Bane a suitable price for his service. Hope Amedda’s feeling generous this afternoon.” He looked at Rae’s bruises.
“Lieutenant, what did I miss?”
“Don’t ask. Sit down.”
Beorna reached out and ruffled Parisian’s long blonde hair cheekily as she always had when they were younger.
“Right. To business.” Salima stretched her fingers “What did you find?”
Rae let Pip have the spotlight as he explained all he’d been witness to that morning, impressing himself by how much had indeed happened in the space of it.
Salima needed a moment to check figures and notify fellow officers. Beorna Yularen took the opportunity to give Pipsqueak a bit of petting. The little colt blushed fiercely as she ruffled his fur and squeezed his cheeks, giggling all the while. Beside them, Alix Balam lounged back in his chair and chuckled.
“So, young Pipsqueak, are you one of the stragglers old Miss Sloane has a soft-spot for? Or perhaps the product of a particularly adventurous tryst of hers?” he winked “Just for future reference, if she says she has to work a night-shift at a safehouse, it means she’s gone off to bonk someone.”
“Alix! Shut up!” Rae exclaimed.
“Oh wait, sorry. Silly me...That’s the Grand Commandant here who says that.”
“Button it, Commissar!” Honor Salima snapped “Sorry about him, Pipsqueak. Long ago, someone once told Alix Balam he was amusing and, unfortunately for us all, he believed them.”
Those within the room gave a collective chuckle, Balam included.
“So Divo’s working with Lo?” Salima said gravely “That explains how his police droids have been so non-compliant.”
“Let’s duff him up once he gets back.” Beorna punched the palm of her hand with a menacing grin as Ross passed him back to Rae “I call his teeth!”
“Hold just a sec.” Rae held up a hand “I’ve got a plan for him, if all goes well.”
“So, you said Tas Kee was the one who opened the warehouse. Before these twi’lek girls got the drop on her?”
“That’s right.”
“We’ve been looking to get Kee for a while. You mentioned Sel Maa?” Salima said bitterly as Pip nodded.
“Sel Maa...‘Head In The Womp Rat Nest’ case?” Balam added.
“The very same. Nasty business. What about the girls?”
“I’ll have a talk with Bazatta later.” Rae said “If anyone knows where they’ll be going, it’s her.”
“Dirty old bird knows the working girls better than you do, Rae.” Balan jested.
“Am I the only one here who’s into men?!” Beorna said, exasperated. As her brother opened his mouth, he held up a finger.
“Don’t you start.”
There was another round of laughter.
“We’re all cheeky tossers here, Pip.” Balam hooted “Nothing to be afraid of.”
“Don’t look now. Divo’s back.” Salima whispered as the hobbling little inspector approached, a smile stretching his piscine mouth.
“Miss Salima.” he said with a sardonic syrupiness “You’re looking well.”
“Inspector Divo.” Honor Salima rose from her desk “We’ve just come across some unpleasant news.”
“I’m sure. But before we spoil the mood, I just have to ask...” he gave her a poisonous look.
“How’s Glira?”
There was a long pause.
Pipsqueak had mentioned he was going to blackmail them but he’d pretty much omitted what he’d use.
Salima was frozen still. Her face was flat. She was blinking fast.
“What do you mean?”
“You know Glira, don’t you?” Divo asked, pressing hard “I just want to know if she’s in any...difficulty.”
It was then that Rae played her card.
“Why?!” she stood up, a frightened look on her face. Pip nearly fell off the side of the chair in her haste “What’s happened to Glira?!”
Tan Divo gave her an unpleasant look.
“How’s it any of your business?”
“I-I-I need to know.”
“But how’s it your business?” Divo asked again.
“How is it your business, Sloane?” Salima asked, fixing her a curious look.
“I...well...Glira and me were...are...” She made a small gesture close to her waist.
The officers around her looked away awkwardly.
“...Oh, you didn’t.” Salima growled.
“Look, it wasn’t like that.” Sloane held up her hands defensively “It was back when we were on leave. I...we...We never meant for it to happen. It was meant to-”
“Stars sakes, Rae! She’s barely of age!” Balam massaged his temples.
“I know! That’s what I told her but she was the one who-”
“Not another word.” The Grand Commandant pointed at Sloane threateningly “We’ll be having a good long chat later.”
“Sorry to break up this little lament but may I have a little of Miss Sloane’s time?” Tan Divo piped up.
Salima’s lips twisted in anger.
“Go on then. The rest of you, don’t move a muscle.”
Pipsqueak huddled against Rae Sloane’s empty chair. Rae Sloane and Tan Divo walked out the office and down a corridor.
“Um...excuse me?” he murmured “I’m...I’m a bit confused.”
“Join the club.” Parisian Froul muttered.
“Not to worry, Pip.” Ross Yularen replied “Let’s just say Lieutenant Sloane’s doing a bit of fishing.”
“Look, Divo. I’ll do anything. Anything I can do. Just don’t tell the guard about Glira. She didn’t mean it. She just...”
“Ah-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba...” Divo wagged a finger “You needn’t worry. I have no intention of telling anyone about anyone...As long as you and I can cooperate.”
Rae took a deep breath.
“What do you need?”
“I need Gume Saam released from custody. I need Honor Salima making way for me in the way of rank and position. And most of all...” he cricked his neck “I need the foal.”
There was a pause.
“The foal...as in...”
“Pipsqueak, you’re calling him.”
Rae blinked.
“Why?”
“You’re not the one asking questions, ma’am.” Divo gave her a smirk “Bring them to the old hanger of the former Haugg Nerf Industries factory. This evening. Not this afternoon, not this night, this evening.”
Rae hung her head.
“Fine.”
“Good girl.” He turned his back, reaching down to slap her on the backside, and chuckled “Don’t be late.”
Rae ground her teeth behind her mouth.
He was going to pay for that one.
Walking back into the office of Honor Salima, she grinned and held up her hands.
“Hook...Line...Sinker!”
The officers applauded.
“Always said you threw a decent angle.” Balam chuckled.
“Where?” Salima asked, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.
“Haugg’s old factory.”
“Typical.” Ross sighed “Divo said the place was still a crime scene. Blocked off the whole place. None of us really want to involve ourselves with what he does. He never did anything of worth in his career. Turns out...” He gave a meaningful shrug.
“Well, nicely done, Rae. Thanks for the cover.” Salima patted her on the shoulder with a grateful smile “Though if you tried anything with Glira, I’ll gut you like a gorg.”
“No worries, Honor. I haven’t touched her. She’d bite me.” Rae chuckled, picking up Pip “Besides, she’s not my type.”
“She likes experience.” Balam sniggered.
“Though, you might want to keep a closer eye on your niece if you’re worried about who she frolics with, so to speak.”
Salima started.
“Who?”
“You remember the Getelles family? Came around on inspection?”
“What? The son? Tol Getelles?! He’s gay!”
“So’s his stepmother!”
The room burst out laughing again, louder than ever.
“I know I’d be if I was stuck with a foul old berk like Heffing Getelles!” Balam chortled “Especially if he’s old enough to be her dad!”
“Oh, what am I gonna’ do with her.” Salima shook her head “Right. I want us ready to hit the place as the sun goes down. We can nail Divo, Lo, Kee, every last stinking one. It’s good to know Mumpfasoom’s no longer an issue but if we can take down the whole pack of them in a night...”
“It’ll be high honours for the whole bunch of us.” Balam finished “Amedda and Hax will probably have us on a billboard.”
“Well, I was going to say that stopping Lo and his associates butchering anyone they like will make the streets more safe.”
“I was getting to that.”
“Right.” Rae got up, Pip in her arms “I’d better make sure we’re all equipped for the evening’s get-together. Ta-ta.”
She left the office alongside Parisian Froul and Pipsqueak and found Cad Bane slouching against the wall in the corridor leading to the cells, twirling his blasters impatiently.
“You know, if I don’t get to shoot somethin’ soon, it ain’t gonna’ be pretty.” he growled.
“And letting you shoot something would?”
The Duro gave her a tired look.
“Comparatively.”
“Well, we could use a hand. We’ve found Lo’s hideout. Haugg Indrustries factory. Any help is welcome if you feel like satisfying a bit of bloodlust. We can pay.”
That brought the beginnings of a smile to his face.
“Well, I like to stay in shape. And the thought of putting a blaster in Lo and his cronies is a sweet one indeed. Just so long as you keep your end o’ the bargain.”
“All taken care of.” Rae held up his hands.
“My grandfather’s organised the payment transferral and he’ll even pay a small fee himself for your patience.”
“Well, he’s got bigger brains than you have.” Cad sniggered, turning to Rae and noticing her bruises “You look like you’ve seen better days though, darlin’.”
“I’ve still enough strength to make you learn not to call me darling.” Rae chuckled, retrieving the pendant “Though the ones that delivered them got a lot worse.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it for a minute, ma’am.”
“Recognise this?”
At the sight of the pendant’s logo, Cad Bane’s sheer red eyes grew wide. He dropped the toothpick he was chewing and examined it closely, tilting it to the sides.
He looked at the puzzled Rae, Parisian and Pipsqueak. The dreaded bounty hunter looked the closest they’d seen to frightened.
“Where’d you find this?”
“One of our attackers.”
He checked his left and right and spoke quieter but harsher.
“Look, if this is Lo you’re after, I’ll pitch in. But anything with this on? Forget it. Done deal. We never met.”
“We can pay.”
“Not enough for them, that’s a dead certain!” Bane snapped “Look, these guys are not someone you want to mess with. I don’t wanna’ mess with them and you’ve seen who I’ve messed with! These guys are ferocious. And professional.”
“The ones we found weren’t.”
“The next ones will be. That’s how they roll.”
“We didn’t think they were Lo’s.” Rae said gravely “So...who are they.”
“I'm not saying.”
“You’re scared of them?” Parisian asked, slight mockery in his tone.
“Yeah! An’ ya got ya head up your ass if you think you're not!” The Duro snarled “Look, they’re new. But they’re fast. And if anyone talks about them, they know and it ain’t pretty by the end. It never is.”
“Okay, look.” Rae held up a hand “I know that it never pays off to tell a bounty hunter something he doesn’t want to do. But if you can’t tell us...can you at least tell us who can?”
Cad Bane rolled his eyes and whispered.
“Ask Thrawn.”
“Thrawn?” Pipsqueak piped up “You mean he knows who sent them?”
Cad Bane nodded darkly.
“Better than anyone.”