Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Pantoran
The cantina was abuzz with activity, its air thick and stale as patrons indulged in flat beer and even worse moonshine. The fact the bartender was a droid helped mask the shame any living employee would have serving the swill. Then again, few would venture into a backwater bar on Formos if they were looking for an aged Naboo wine. Instead, the cantina favoured clientele that preferred a setting with lights dimmed low enough to mask their faces, and music loud enough so their voices wouldn't carry. The alcohol on draught was just... The local flavour.
As the door opened, a wave of silence fell upon the place as the eyes of the patrons adjusted to the sudden influx of light, eager to see who came in. The long coat was easily spotted first, though its silhouette disguised its bright red nature. When the door slid close again, the blue skin and white hair of the Pantoran woman allowed the visitor to stand out all the more against the dark backdrop. The sight was enough to set the patrons at ease again, not Imperial looking enough to be a problem, not aggressive looking enough to be worried about. Just another rung leech that crawled its way into the place, like so many others.
The Pantoran stood for a while, her eyes scanning the faces of the customers before landing on a solitary individual in a back booth. Slumped over the table a bit, nursing a cup of whatever, he didn't exactly stand out amongst the others, but he stood out enough for the woman to hone in. She passed through the bar quickly, didn't even bother looking at anyone else or order a drink. Rather, she marched straight up to the man's booth and took a seat opposite him.
"You Marcus?" No fanfare. No subtlety either. But enough fervor for the man to sit up straight and glance around to see if his new companion had company.
"I suppose that depends on who's asking." His eyes scanned the Pantoran, from ponytail on top, to bandolier across the chest. If the table wasn't blocking his view, he would've likely examined her boots as well.
"Someone who's interested in speaking to a smuggler named Marcus." She replied coyly.
"If you're here for a job, you've come to the best. Ask around, you'll find no better smuggler this side of the Outer Rim." The man leaned back, all smug and cocksure, his arms swinging over the backrest of the bench as though he was claiming everything within reach.
"Yeah? You famous, huh?" A smirk dawned on the Pantoran's face as she leaned in closer. The smuggler couldn't help but gesture and nod proudly at himself. "You must not be very good at your job then..."
That woke him up. Pulling his arms in, he leaned forward on his elbow on the table. "What did you say?" A voice full of defensive anger, and yet... No real denial.
"How much do you charge?" The woman replied, completely ignoring the growing confrontationalism, as she leaned back, her turn to swing her arm around her seat's back.
One could almost hear the smuggler's teeth crunch as he swallowed her earlier comment, and some of his pride, through his gritted teeth. "Depends on the cargo. I don't go for lower than 15.000 credits though."
The price elicited a whistle from the Pantoran. A wordless recognition of respect for the hustle. "15.000 as an opening bid. That's expensive." She locked eyes with him again and smirked ever wider "do you know how much you're worth?"
"What?" The onset of realisation started to set in in the man's face as his eyes grew wider.
The Pantoran slid a bounty fob onto the table and a holographic image of the smuggler appeared from it, as well as his price. "6.500 credits." Her smirk cut right through the holographic image as she peered straight into the saucers that his eyes had become. "This is why being a famous smuggler is a bad thing, Marcus. Remember that if you ever get out."
There was a moment of pause, and for an instant everything seemed to fade out; no music, no patrons, no bar. Just Marcus, and the Pantoran. Then, just as the realisation cut out the outside world, so too did Marcus flipping the table bring it all back. Cups went flying, the table landed on the woman and Marcus ran for the door.
"Son of a..." The woman cursed through her teeth as she quickly got up and ran after him. She ignored the other patrons' exclamations of surprise and annoyance. She barely even registered it when she pushed one of them over a table. As she exited the bar, her eyes adjusted to the light fast enough to see Marcus hauling off on a hoverbike down the grimy street. It didn't faze the Pantoran as she quickly pulled some bystander off his bike and kicked it into gear. "I'll bring it back!" She shouted at her bikejacking victim, but she didn't know if he heard it. She didn't really care either.
With her new ride, she quickly kept pace with Marcus, her long coat flapping behind her as she dodged and weaved through the obstacles of moving vehicles. It wasn't Coruscanti traffic by a long shot, but there were enough trucks and small goods vehicles to be a problem.
Just as she was about to catch up, a truck came from the side alley and blocked her path. No time to brake. No room to dodge. Instincts, good or bad, took over and she twisted her bike to angle the hover plating sideways. Sparks enveloped her as she skimmed over the road, and under the obstacle. The coarse asphalt ground her handlebar down so much she had to move her hand for risk of losing her pinky, but the instant she got past the truck, she kicked the bike back upright and continued pursuit.
By now it was clear where he was going. Only the spaceport was ahead, and sure enough the instant they came close she saw Marcus jump off his bike without even stopping and booking it for his ship. Her eyes never left him, she could see his moves before he even made them. Going for his ship. Predictable. But then an explosion rocked her focus. Marcus' bike went straight into a loader crane, tipping a container sideways and sending its contents tumbling down. Worse, one of the workers was standing right underneath and got knocked down by the falling goods. Above, the cables holding the container up were snapping. Fast.
The hunter's eyes darted between her prey and the worker, only to lock onto the latter with a cursed hiss under her breath. She swung around, away from Marcus and throttled the gas straight for the injured bystander. Without stopping, she angled her bike and reached out to grab hold of him before he got crushed. Sure enough, her grip was right and true, and while the sudden additional weight pulled her off her bike, the momentum was enough to pull them both away from the container's drop zone. The noise was ear shattering. A combination of booming thunder and shattering steel, as the deadly weight came tumbling down, her bike skidding along and tearing through a line of loadlifter droids.
She quickly checked to see if the worker was okay, but she didn't have the time for a complete physical. In an instant she got back to her feet and bolted for the landing platforms. Marcus had gained distance, but his ship wasn't off the ground yet. First pad. Empty. Second. Empty. Third. There he was. He was just about to enter his ship. The platform was already lifting. No time for the low route. The hunter jumped on some nearby crates and rose higher and higher along the stacks of containers with graceful leaps, over and over. Then, she nearly flew as she jumped from the highest stack towards Marcus' closing platform. Just in time, she slipped through, landing and rolling down his ship's hallway with a loud and painful thud.
Marcus was nearly stunned with surprise as the Pantoran was suddenly on him, in his own ship. He reached for his weapon, but she was faster. Much faster. From her low position, she lunged forward, tackling him to the ground before he even had a chance to properly respond. The sound of air evacuating from his lungs was only interrupted by the sound of the hunter's sidearm being ripped from its holster.
She stuck the blaster almost all the way up his nose as she stood over him, panting and sweating so hard a droplet fell from her nose and right onto his face. "Now, bounty needs you alive and the stun setting on this blaster's been busted for ages, so are you gonna cooperate, or do I have to break your legs to keep you from running?" The game was up, the woman's patience had run out, and it was clear Marcus knew it. He sighed and fell backwards. It was just about all he could do.
—
Chapter 2: the Bounty Clipper
"So, Vexa, " the exclamation was accompanied by the needle going through the Pantoran's flesh, pulling the wire along as the wound was stitched up. "you had an exciting evening and caught the bounty." The Mirialan spoke as she pulled the wire tight, closing up the bleeding mess. "You even walk away with a nice story to tell at the bar." She reached for a pair of scissors and snipped off the excess before putting the tools aside. "So why is it that we're eating emergency rations and the ship's running on fumes? The bounty was over six thousand credits, more than enough for a full tank for all of us."
"Well, you know, Mira... Expenses" Vexa replied sheepishly as she moved both her eyes and her fingers over the stitches, only to get them slapped off by the Mirialan.
"What expenses?" The questioning was accompanied by Mira spraying some antiseptic on the stitched up cut. The liquid began foaming as it pulled out all the remaining bacteria from the surface around the injury. The wafts that came from it were just the ever present smells of the medbay, only more intense. "Fuel and food are the expenses."
"Well... I had to pay for the damages in the bar..." Vexa started, her eyes away from Mira’s "and... The bike..."
"The bar and the bike. What else?" Mira interjected, urging Vexa on to speed it up.
"The loader droids were the lion's share."
Vexa finally met the Mirialan's eyes, full of disbelief and surface level disappointment.
"Couldn't leave well enough alone" Mira responded with a sigh as she dropped the scissors with a clang on her surgical tray. "Had to be the hero."
"I couldn't just let him die!"
"Why was it your problem? The bounty was responsible for the accident. If anything, if you had stayed out of it, his reward might've increased!"
"That's damn cold blooded, Mira."
"Don't hate the player, hate the game, captain. That's the way the universe works. Save the loader droid next time, at least then the foreman might buy you a drink."
"The guy I saved was the foreman."
"Whatever. We're done here. Keep it clean and dressed, and it'll heal up well enough."
"You're all heart, Mira..." Vexa hopped down from the examination table, her boots hitting the metal plating with a sound thunk. She didn't spend any further time discussing the situation with Mira, there was no point. They've said it all before.
The empty halls of the ship echoed as she made her way through them. There was no denying the ship was old and had seen better days. Rust patches decorated the walls, if there was even a piece of plating there for it to decorate. At plenty of spaces the outer shell had been stripped off to leave the wiring that should be internal for all to see. There was no denying that it wasn't pretty, but as long as it didn't impede functionality, Vexa often enough let it slide.
She passed by the lounge; Mira's boots under the table, her own jacket over the chair, both their plates still on the table, foodstains hardening on the surface. Luckily, it wasn't her turn to clean them, so it wasn't her problem to scrub them off. She noticed the music player was still turned on, but turned to mute. It annoyed her for some reason, until Vexa realised it was her who had done it in the first place. A quick flip of the switch turned it off all the way, before she continued on through the corridor.
The hallway echoed with her steps, metallic clanking reverberating along seemingly endless corridors. The size of the ship was nearly overwhelming for the two of them. Normally crews like theirs zipped around space in light freighters, or more combat capable shuttles, but not them. No, they were slogging their way from one planet to another in a bulk cargo hauler. Vexa was proud of it when she first got it operational, she still was without a doubt, but it guzzled fuel by the barrel, and in these quiet hours its size was nearly overwhelming. And still, she could never imagine replacing it. The old girl was where she put down roots, and by now, they had run deep.
As she entered the cockpit, she quickly took a seat in the empty pilot chair. The lights of hyperspace illuminated the room in the typical, hypnotic blue glow. "Clip, relinquish controls back to manual." She ordered as she began tapping some buttons on the control panel to have the screens light up with both the navigational and consumption data.
"Understood, captain." The voice chimed disembodied through the cockpit, emotionless and monotone as always. "Please be advised: fuel reserves will not sustain travel beyond the current hyperspace jump."
"I know that, Clip, I can read the logs."
"For future reference, any travel with less than 25% fuel capacity is ill-advised."
"You say that every time."
"Correct. This is the fifty-seventh time this advice has been given."
"Was that sarcasm?"
"I'm not programmed for sarcasm."
"Could've fooled me." Vexa slumped in her chair, and rubbed her face over her right eye, her left transfixed on their fuel supplies and consumption. A jump from Formos to Teth was all they could afford, but now she's not so sure it was the right decision. "Tell me about Teth, Clip."
"Teth is a sparsely populated planet in the Outer Rim along the Triellus trade route in the Baxel sector. It is home to about 45 million inhabitants, ruled from the capital city of Peroon. Its main exports are-"
"Stop. Stop. None of that." A sigh echoed through the cockpit as she rubbed her eyes, trying to find a more applicable question to get her answers. "Imperial or Hutt space?"
"Official jurisdiction falls under imperial rule."
"Official jurisdiction? So you're saying there's flexibility?"
"Records do not specify."
"What do the records specify? Is there pirate activity?"
"Affirmative. Imperial travel advisories discourage visits to the B'omarr temples."
"Why? Hubs for criminals?"
"Imperial records state that all criminal activity is under control."
Vexa smirked and shook her head at the answer. "So Imp law rules, but stay away 'cause criminals make it dangerous. Sounds about right for Imperial doublespeak."
"Imperial records do not accept "doublespeak" as acceptable designations."
"I bet." Her eyes rolled almost unintentionally as Clip answered "Is there a guild office on Teth?"
"Affirmative."
"ETA?"
"Three seconds."
"What?" She barely finished the question when the shimmering lights of hyperspace gave way to the sight of a lush, green marble against the starry backdrop of space. Above the planet, an Imperial Arquitens-class cruiser hovered overhead. Even in the sticks and without a star destroyer, the Empire needs to make sure its presence is known. "Okay. Okay. Teth it is."
---
Chapter 3: Teth
Peroon proved busier than Vexa expected. At first, the low population described by Clip made her expect something akin to the Zygerrian markets on Listehol, or the Mos Eisley spaceport on Tatooine, but instead she found a bustling and vibrant city with every street surrounding the docks packed to bursting with shoppers and cityfolk. It didn't take her long to guess the reason; as they approached to land, the planet's dense jungle stretched from horizon to horizon. What was less noticeable was the sight of settlements marking its surface. What Teth lacked in people, it made up for in community.
As she walked through its streets, she was assaulted by the smells of spices and riotous sights of the local flavour. Vibrant textiles in all shades, bright jewellery made from local amber, exotic birds with colourful coats, wherever Vexa looked, the sights were a feast for the eyes. As she gazed up, she saw lengths of cloth, drying from the dyeing process, stretched from building to building, shading the busy shoppers underneath from the harsh sun. A smirk appeared on her lips as she realised the locals blended the necessary with the enjoyable in one easy move. In all this vibrancy, only the uniforms of the occasional imperial patrol stood out. Their blacks, and whites and greys clashing with the yellows, blues and reds of the local flavour.
Despite the distracting feast for the eyes, Vexa quickly made her way to the guild office. It wasn't easy to find, amidst the liveliness of the market streets, the dull, monolithic building of the bounty guild was almost hidden. Tucked away like a shameful secret. As she opened the door, the inside wasn't much better; empty, dark, with thick stale air, the contrast with the outside was like walking onto a different planet. Indeed, when the doors slid shut behind her, the voices of the merchants, and the brightness of the sun, both were locked out. Walking up to the counter, the official present wasn't even facing her, eyes fixed on the holonet, watching some sport Vexa didn't immediately recognise over the poor reception as he fanned himself with a small tool of feathers as leaves.
"Hey there, I'm looking for any bounties on the planet."
Whether he didn't know of her arrival, or didn't care, was soon answered as the guild worker just gave her a quick look over his shoulder before sliding a single fob her way, without so much as a word.
"Thanks." Her words were laced with sarcasm as she activated the holographic display. The image of a male Togrutan popped up, surrounding the holographic image were his name, Nekari Danz, as well as his crime; the raiding of an imperial shipment. The bounty listed as five-thousand credits. "Pirate, huh?" Vexa asked, half to herself, half to the official, only to get no response. "Anything else?" Once again, no answer came, just the ambient noise of the sports announcer and the faint sounds of the market outside. "Guess not."
"So what we got?" Mira asked as Vexa returned and passed her by onto the ship's loading ramp.
"Togrutan pirate. five-thousand credits." Vexa replied as she tossed the disc over to her. "Fob says he frequents one of the B'omarr temples."
"Small fry, huh, couldn't you get something bigger?" Mira activated the holographic image and gave the Togrutan a once over.
"Nope. I'll be taking the Sovranty out. Open the hangar for me?"
Soon enough the ship was filled with the noise of rusty metal grinding together as the hangar bay bulkheads slowly opened up. Mira's jacket flapped violently in the aircurrent whipped up by Vexa's starfighter. Its powerful Utapauan engines buzzed more akin to a landspeeder, vibrating the ladder steps Vexa moved up to reach the cockpit.
"You gonna go from temple to temple trying to find him?" Mira shouted over the engine noise as Vexa pressed the buttons for pre-flight preparations.
"You got a better idea?"
"Nope." Mira chucked up the fob back to Vexa who deftly caught just as the cockpit closed up. "Good hunting."
And with that, Vexa punched her engines and pierced the skies over Peroon.
—
Chapter 4: Displaced
Thirteen temples. Thirteen busts. Vexa started to get frustrated with the lack of progress. Initially she actually found herself enjoying going through the abandoned monasteries. Her work rarely gave her time to appreciate art and culture, yet here she could wander through the architectural marvels and take in the sights. The towering monolithic structures looming over her, coupled with the thin, cold air that hounded the tips of the rock pillars on which they were constructed gave her a sense of smallness, insignificance and reservation, yet also peace, tranquility and ease. If under any other context, she would've wandered its halls and enjoyed its breeze in quiet contemplation, letting herself get lost in her thoughts. For monks who put their brains in jars, she couldn't help but think, they definitely knew how to build a place.
But she didn't have the time to let her mind wander, she was on the hunt, and this made her appreciation of the architecture fade by the fourth empty monastery. As she approached the fourteenth target, she noticed something was different about this one. Circling overhead, she saw figures moving about, and tents set up in the courtyards. Smoke from lit fires rose above the monastery towers as in some places minor patches of crops could be seen even from the sky. "Well, they haven't shot at me yet..." She muttered to herself as she brought her starfighter in for a landing. She didn't go straight down, though, in case they just hadn't seen her, she brought herself in slowly, and visibly. Only when there still wasn't any hostile response did she finally touch down on one of the pads.
As Vexa exited the fighter, most of the residents of the temple gave her sideways glances, but kept their distance. All, but one. A female Twi'lek stepped forward to greet Vexa. "Good afternoon" her voice was soft, like silk, but thick with a Ryloth accent. The 'r' in particular slipped by in her speech. "We don't get many visitors."
Vexa gave her a quick eyeball; ragged clothes, dirty fingernails, burn scars on the lekku. This was someone who had fallen on hard times. "My apologies for the intrusion, I'm looking for a, uh... Friend of mine. Nekari Danz? I was told he frequents these parts."
"Yes, he's well known here." Her voice brightened at the chance to discuss the Togrutan. "He should return in a few hours. Please, come inside out of the cold. We were just about to eat."
"Oh, no, miss, I wouldn't want to intrude. I'll just wait in my ship." Even as Vexa spoke, her stomach betrayed her, grumbling loudly as though her ears were directly connected to it and it spoke up at the sound of food. The embarrassment made her feel her face light up with a light blush.
"Nonsense. Any friend of Nekari is a friend of ours. Besides, your stomach has already accepted our offer."
The Twi'lek led Vexa through the temple gates and inside the main hall. Everywhere there were people of all species huddled together in tents or shanties, sleeping on makeshift bedding or on crudely made seats. They were gaunt and pale, with many being hurt or bearing the scars of past injuries.
"My apologies for the late introduction, we are not used to visitors up here. I am El'ara. I was one of the first to find this place, and others have seen fit to make me a spokesperson because of it."
"Vexa. A pleasure. What is this place?" Vexa spoke up as she crossed eyes with a woman removing strips of cloth from a clothesline.
"This is our home. After we lost our first. Pirates, criminals, the Empire,... No matter where you are in the galaxy, sooner or later one of these groups will find you. People here survived their discovery."
"I'm sorry... So you're refugees?" Vexa's voice
"I suppose so, but we prefer to be called displaced. When people think about refugees, they believe they need handouts. We just need an opportunity." El'ara opened a door and revealed a room filled to bursting with colour. Against the backdrop of the grey monastery walls were tapestried of patterned yellows and greens. The texture was rough, but the designs were intricate and precise. As Vexa's eyes lingered on the decorations, she nearly got hit by a twi'lek girl getting chased by another on the way out. A soft "sorry" was spoken before the duo continued out. In the centre of the room was an electric fire on which a large pot stood boiling the meal El'ara promised earlier, surrounded by cushions and rugs of a similar make as the tapestries. A male Togrutan rose to his feet, but as Vexa looked him over he didn't appear even remotely like her bounty.
"This is Kosha, my husband." Tel'ara introduced him. "Kosha, this is Vexa. She's a friend of Nekari."
"Welcome. Please take a seat"
Vexa felt awkward accepting the invitation under the false pretences she had set up. The more it became clear her bounty wasn't what she anticipated, the more her stomach felt like a rock was weighing it down. "Your place is beautiful." She spoke, trying to veer the conversation away from Nekari, hoping this would ease her mind.
As Vexa took a seat on one of the cushions, she met her hand move over the rug. The colours were vibrant, yet the materials felt coarse and rough. "What did you use to make the rugs?"
"Bark from the more supple young trees down below in the jungle." Kosha spoke as he began filling a bowl with the soup before them "we work with what we have. It isn't much, but it's ours."
Tel'ara gave Kosha a playful slap on the arm to silence his humility. "Oh, hush." She turned to face Vexa "He's too modest to say it, but he's a marvel with the loom. I keep telling him he should be proud of his work, but he keeps trying to downplay his talent."
A forced smile appeared on Vexa as the weight of the context kept bearing down on her. "She's right. They're very beautiful."
Vexa watched as the family hosting her enjoyed their meal. How Tel'ara wrangled their children around the pot, how Kosha wiped the mouth of the youngest, how the both of their eyes met softly every time they gazed at each other. Every minute spent with them made the soup, delicious as it was, taste ever more bitter in Vexa's mouth.
She had stomached about enough of it when word came that Nekari had arrived. Tel'ara helped her to her feet and guided her back to the landing platforms. To her surprise, Vexa had to emotionally wrangle herself not to simply leave them all alone. Every step she weighed the situation in her mind, forcing her to accept the notion that he might not be representative of the community she had just infiltrated, nor they of him.
“Nekari,” when Tel’ara spoke, Vexa was shaken out of her thoughts. She looked up and sure enough there he was. The bounty puck must've produced a slightly older image for he stood a little broader than the image, a little bit more damage with a scar across his neck, but it was him without a doubt. “We've been waiting for you. One of your friends arrived earlier.”
“My friend?” His voice was like gravel, rough and rattling. The scar must've cut quite deep. As Tel’ara stood aside to reveal Vexa to him, his face was a jumbled mess of confusion and failed recollections. He peered into her eyes but found no memories that included her. Then, realisation. His eyes peeled open, his mouth went slightly agape, but when he reached for his blaster, Vexa quickly interrupted him, raising her hand to stop him from any rash act.
“Perhaps we could speak… in private…”
He was hesitant, but equally as disinclined to start a scuffle amidst the displaced as she was. “This way.” He nodded towards a door along the side, and Vexa followed him in. “Bounty hunter, correct?”
“Spot on.” Vexa took out the fob and activated the holographic image. “Says here you're a pirate.”
“Maybe. But I only steal from the Empire. And I don't do it for profit.”
“I figured. People around here spoke of you with some reverence. Not exactly something typical with pirates.”
“So you understand why you can't bring me in…”
“I’ll admit to being conflicted, but if it's not me, then it's gonna be someone else, and I really, really, need the credits.”
“But surely you wouldn’t want these people-”
“These people don't need your help. They said so themselves; they're not looking for a handout.”
“And what about the Empire?” Nekari’s voice flared with anger at Vexa’s immovability. He stepped forward and into Vexa’s space, his large frame nearly towering over her even as Vexa didn’t budge an inch. “Are we to let them get away with anything? Look around you! Someone has to fight back, and you’re out here doing their bidding by proxy.”
“The Empire already won. It won against the Separatists, and it… it won against the Republic. One thief with a bounty isn’t gonna bring them down!”
His face scrunched up as he nodded in both response and denial. “How much is my bounty, anyway?”
“Five-thousand.”
“You're really gonna do this for a measly five-thousand credits.”
“Don't make this harder on me than it already is.”
“So why the privacy?”
“I didn't want anyone else caught in the crossfire.”
“Anything I can say to change your mind?”
“That depends, you got five-thousand credits on you?”
“No.”
“Then you have your answer.”
An air of anticipation washed over them as silence captured the room. Both of them eyed each other up, either anticipating the other’s move. It was Nekari who moved first. He tried to draw his blaster, but before he had it levelled, Vexa knocked his hand aside, sending the blaster flying. Nekari threw a punch and it flew along Vexa's cheek like a blade as she barely dodged it. Her arm wrapped around his like a snake as she attempted to use his force against him, turning him around and trying to pin his arm around his back, but Nekari simply slipped out of his jacket to escape her grasp.
The instant he was free, he turned back around and gripped his coat, trying to yank it back out of Vexa’s hands. The surprise of the act in Vexa was quickly replaced as she started wrapping the clothing around her arm, pulling Nekari in closer and attempting to reach for his collar. The Togrutan awkwardly leaned back just out of reach of her grip and let go of the jacket to gain more distance.
He didn't stick around to keep trying to get it back. The instant he was free, he bolted for the door and out into the central halls. Vexa cursed as she ran after him, hand still gripping Nekari’s clothing. The commotion caused the Displaced in the temple to take notice. Many called out to the two of them in shocked attempts to get them to stop.
“She's a bounty hunter!” Nekari cried out as he attempted to flee, his heavy thud nearly drowning out his voice. “She's trying to capture me!”
Vexa nearly blocked it all out. Her eyes fixed on Nekari, she hounded his heels at the full pace she could muster. He was strong, she'd give him that, but he was no runner. She could instantly feel herself closing the distance, only to get suddenly blocked by Tal’ara.
The Twi’lek stood directly in her path, arms stretched to the sides to stop Vexa from moving any further.
“Get out of the way!” Vexa called out, attempting to move around, only for another Displaced to block her path as well
“No! Whatever your problem with Nekari, we can't just stand by to let you hurt him.” As Tel'ara spoke, more and more began to surround Vexa, blocking her every route.
She cursed under her breath and drew her pistol, blasting a warning shot into the air and causing some to flinch enough so she could slip by. But it was already too late, by the time she reached the platform, she could see Nekari descend some rigging down the rock face and into the jungle. There was no way she could track him there.
All she caught of him was his jacket. Before she could give them a once over, she got hit on the shoulder by a rock. Looking over, she saw the same children whom she had dinner with not a few minutes earlier throwing them at her. Behind them, the displaced eyed her with anger and disappointment. She couldn't bear to look them in the eyes, and solemnly walked off towards her ship. Once in the air, she rooted around inside the pockets. There wasn't anything of note in there, except a code cylinder.
---
Chapter 5:
It didn't take long for Vexa to return to the Peroon docks. Circling once over her freighter, she noticed a gathering on the surface near its loading ramp. She quickly landed her fighter in her ship's hangar bay and made her way down to the ground level. As she exited the ship, she saw Mira talking to an imperial officer flanked by two stormtroopers. Her pace didn't slow for a second at the sight, instead she moved deftly next to Mira.
"Just in time, cap, these boys wanted a word." Mira smirked as she nodded towards the imperials.
"Is this your ship?" The officer barked barely even looking up from his datapad at her.
"It is. Is there a problem, officer?"
"That remains to be seen. We're increasing spot checks of off world vessels. I'll need to see some identification and registration."
Vexa's face pulled a half-frown, half-apathetic raising of the eyebrows as she shrugged and pulled out her identichip, guild license and ship's ID card, and handed it over. The officer once again didn't see fit to meet her eyes, so she had to suffice by eyeballing the stormtroopers to his sides. "Vexa Nirell. Bounty hunter. Flying the..." He finally met her eye, only to give her a disapproving raise of an eyebrow. "Bounty Clipper..." He then eyed the ship as a whole. The disdain on his face was palpable. "Do you have a registration for that museum piece I saw you fly in with?"
"It should be under the same registry as the Clipper"
The officer didn't immediately respond. Instead, his datapad beeped rapidly as he scrolled through the details of the registration. "There's no listed transponder code." He finally spoke up. "You'll need to stop by and get that registered."
"Guild license permits spoofing for under class five drives. Mine's six."
He pulled the identichip and registration cards out of his datapad and handed them back. "And I have a mandate by the Empire to keep the peace, so if you wanna make use of Imperial docks, you'll be registering your codes. Sooner rather than later." The instant Vexa took the registration documents from his hands, the officer turned and walked off, his troopers in tow.
"Charming fellow." Vexa remarked to Mira the instant he was out of earshot
"Yeah, makes you wonder why they stationed him on the backwater." The smirk on Mira's face as she spoke was so wide Vexa spotted it clearly even from her peripheral vision. "So how'd the hunt go?"
Vexa responded by handing over the code cylinder she got from Nekari's jacket. "What do you think?"
"Well," Mira took it and rolled it in her hands "it's a code cylinder."
"Thanks Mira, that's why you get paid the big bucks."
"You don't pay me." She raised the cylinder back up into the light and took a closer look. "Well, it's not military grade, but it's still a code cylinder, so... I don't know. A place accessible to civvies, but still has security on the higher levels. Maybe a bank, or a secure storage yard."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Vexa took the cylinder back and held it in front of her with both her hands. "If he's engaged in illegal activity, I doubt he's storing stuff at an Imperial controlled bank. There's probably not a lot of other options on a planet like this."
"There's a storage site for goods here on the docks."
"Good a place as any to start."
It didn't take long to reach the yard from the docks. Just a stone's throw away from the landing pads, rows upon rows of containers were situated. Many were visibly empty, their doors rattling in the wind, but most were locked up tight. Vexa walked up to one and checked out the lock, sure enough it had room for a code cylinder. A quick insert, and a red light of denial later, she was able to rule that one out. “Well, at least we know this is the place.”
“Now what?” Mira asked, waving her arm at the endless containers stretching out before them. “We can't check them all one at a time.”
“That's exactly what we're gonna do.” Vexa lobbed the cylinder over to her and then pointed at one behind the Mirialan. “You can start with that one.”
Mira sighed loudly, but complied, only for the container in question to reject the cylinder as well. Over the course of the next few hours they went by every locked container, checking to see if the cylinder worked with nothing to show for it. One by one the containers accepted the key, checked to see if it was correct, then spat it back out. By now, the sun had started to set, and both of them were starting to get annoyed.
“Where'd you get the cylinder anyway?” Mira asked as she tried it on another lock with no luck.
“I got it from Nekari jacket, down at one of the temples.”
“Wait, so you had him? And he got away?”
“I almost had him, yes.”
“Oh, so we're almost getting paid then?”
“Mira, you're killing me.”
Overhead a pair of gunships tore through the sky, their flood lights illuminating the docks and storage yards as a trooper could be visibly seen sitting on the edge of their open doors holding a heavy repeating blaster.
“That's the third flyover in an hour. Didn't think the Empire would be this active.” Mira remarked as she followed the gunships with her gaze until they disappeared behind the edges of some of Peroon’s taller buildings.
“They're planning something.” The remark was dry and matter of factly as Vexa spoke. “You don't exert that many resources unless it's for a purpose. They're laying the groundwork for something.”
“You sound sure.”
“I recognise the procedure.” Vexa inserted the cylinder into another container.
“One day you're gonna tell me how.”
Before Vexa could respond, the container's lock sprang up green and the door unlocked, opening slightly on creaky hinges.
“Finally.” Mira uttered almost to herself as she gripped the edges and opened the metal doors wider.
Inside the container were crates upon crates bearing the imperial insignia. Vexa walked up and opened one, only to find it stuffed to the brim with some sort of plant packed in vacuum sealed wrapping. Opening one, she examined it, smelled it, before handing it to Mira.
“You know what this is?”
“Yeah, it's nysillin. Raw, and unprocessed.”
“Drugs?”
“Kinda. It's a healing herb. It's no bacta, but it's pretty valuable. All things considered, I'd say a haul like this is worth…” She went silent for a second, her eyes darting around as her lips moved voiceless. “a hundred thousand credits if you have a buyer. Closer to fifty-thousand if you're less lucky.” She patted Vexa on the shoulder with a gratifying smile. “Well done, captain, we're set for ages with this haul!”
There was a silent pause as Vexa contemplated the situation. “No. We're not selling it. If it's as valuable as you say, Nekari will be coming back for it soon enough.”
“What are you saying, Vex? Even on the low end, this stuff's worth ten times what that nobody would fetch.”
“And who would you sell it to, Mira? Do you want to risk venturing into the drugs business?”
“Drugs? Vexa, it's a healing herb!”
“Who would buy this from us that wouldn't turn it into a narcotic of some kind? I'm no drug peddler, and I'm not gonna start now.” Vexa walked back out of the container, standing by the door waiting for Mira to join her.
It took a few seconds for Mira to comply, instead silently pointing at the crates with her mouth open as though she was trying to say something. When she realised Vexa wasn’t budging, she finally responded. “Fine, but I’m taking a box for the ship.” she hunched over, picking up a crate before joining Vexa outside. “Remind me again why I stick by you?”
“It’s my captivating personality.” As soon as Mira was outside, Vexa locked the storage back up. “Let’s get that back to the ship quickly. Nekari knows we have the key, he’s gonna want to move this stuff as soon as he’s done slogging it through the jungle.”
As night settled in, Vexa and Mira stuck around the container to keep watch. Mira remained on foot, hiding in one of the unused containers close by Nekari’s to keep watch should he arrive on foot. Vexa on the other hand returned with the Sovranty, parking it nearby behind a row of shipping crates should he arrive in something a little more mobile. While Vexa’s engines were turned off to remain hidden better, the radio remained on so they could stay within communication, though Mira used the channel more to complain.
“He’s not coming.” Mira’s voice chimed in over the radio.
“Patience.” Vexa replied like she was trying to control an unruly child. Unlike Mira, Vexa had taken the time to get settled in; on her dashboard lay some half eaten rations and her thermos cup, still containing some caf, as Vexa had her legs up reading a novel on her datapad.
“I should’ve brought my playing cards.”
“Yeah, you really should have.”
As soon as Vexa made her remark she noticed her caf started to vibrate, the liquid showing rings as though something was shaking the cup. Looking up through the cockpit, a wing of Imperial gunships flew out and towards the jungle in formation.
Over the radio, Mira spoke up again. “They’re in a hurry.”
“Yeah, someone’s in for a bad time.” Vexa could feel her face scrunch up as she watched the gunships disappear into the distance.
“Best stay out of it. Not our concern.”
“Sure…” But even as the gunships moved off, Vexa’s caf continued to rattle.
“Wait, do you hear that? I think someone's coming.”
Sure enough, a small freighter began to hover closer to Nekari’s container. Slow and steady it approached until finally hovering over the target. The cargo door opened and as the loading ramp slid out, Nekari walked along it holding a hook and chains. As he attempted to secure the container, planning to haul it out the hard way, Mira walked out of her hiding spot and up to the Togrutan.
“Lost your key?” She said, all smiles and sarcasm.
He managed to utter a single “Frack.” before trying to book it back onto his ship, but before he even got halfway up the ramp, Vexa’s fighter was already in the air and up close and personal with his ship. As he gazed up at the ship, Vexa gazed back down with a sly smirk and a sarcastic wave.
Tied up and bound, Mira dropped Nekari against his container as Vexa approached after landing her ship.
“You gave us quite a run for five-thousand credits, big man.” The comment came with a light slap across his head as Mira leaned against the crate next to the Togrutan. “What’re we thinking, Cap? We bring him in, get some droids to fuel the ship as we get drunk in the local bar?”
“Please, don’t do this.” Nekari pleaded before Vexa could even reply. “You know why I do this. You’ve seen for whom I steal. Five-thousand credits isn’t worth taking away the only lifeline these people have.”
“No, but it’ll fill our fuel storage all the way to the top.” Mira interjected. “Come on, Vex, we’ve wasted enough time on this guy.”
“The Empire is gonna crack down on the Displaced sooner or later. They don’t care if they’re pirates or not, if you don’t have identification or pay taxes, you’re a criminal to them.” He leaned forward, or at least tried to before Mira pulled him back, as he attempted to plead with Vexa. “When, not if, when the Empire starts raiding the temples those people are gonna need this nysillin more than ever.”
“That ship has sailed, my friend. We just saw a bunch of Imperial gunships head into the jungle. I’ll bet ten credits your friends are on the chopping block.” Mira’s wording was cold as ice, but she was correct. If the Empire did head out to suppress activity in the temples, the Displaced were a likely target
“What? No! You have to let me go! If you’re not gonna help me, at least don’t prevent me from helping them!”
Vexa stood between them silently. She knew Mira was right, there was no benefit to helping them, but even as the logic was weighed, Vexa’s heart fell into her stomach like a rock. She had to keep telling herself it wasn’t her fight. The Empire had already won, fighting back at this stage was pointless. She knew that. She had known it for years. So why? Why did his words hit her so hard?
—
Chapter 6: Fire over Teth
Fires lit the night sky as the B’omarr temple blazed in the distance. Even from miles away, the flickering lights of the flames could be seen, as well as the oppressive flood lights of the gunships hovering overhead. Screams filled the air, the high position of the monastery meaning that there was nothing stopping the desperate cries from carrying for miles and miles.
From above Vexa could see the Displaced scrambling against the backdrop of the chaotic lights. Blue circular shots flew all around the courtyards as landed stormtroopers began stunning everyone in sight. Without resistance from the residents this was a game to them. Target practice. The sight made her blood boil so hot she nearly saw red. If they wanted a fight, she’d give it to them.
Like a bird of prey she swooped down in the starfighter and descended straight upon one of the gunships. Her twin triple laser cannons lit up the sky as she tore through the first gunship. Swooping down low around the rock pillar, she gazed up at the remaining gunships scattering in all directions in response.
“Not as much fun when they’re shooting back, is it, ya bastards!” Indeed, her comm lit up with calls from the gunships she was picking up, panicking from the sudden assault. Gunship down. Repeat: Gunship down. Frack, where did that fighter come from?
She curved around the rockface and swung back up. One of the repositioning ships was just begging to get its belly torn upon, and Vexa obliged. Her fire ripped a line straight along the centre of the patrol ship, its solar panels flew off as the imperial vessel spiralled down into the greenery below. Once again, the assault made her comm light up as the Imperials attempted a response. We’re getting picked off one by one, we need fighter support! Vexa smirked at the notion. Call ‘em all you want, she thought to herself, with my jammer up it’s just you and me.
By now the surprise had worn off and two gunships attempted pursuit, but theirs were vessels for crowd control and police actions, hers was a starfighter with an overpowered engine and built for war. There was no way they could keep up, but that didn’t stop them from firing their own guns to try and shoot her out of the sky. All around her the impacts on her shields made her ship light up against the night sky, but Vexa couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s it, ya sons of whores, come and get me. If you’re planning on jumping through that opening I gave you, Nekari, now would be the time.”
From the side, Vexa could see the Togrutan’s freighter fly in from below, shooting one of the lingering gunships on his way into the temple courtyard. His wasn’t a warship, but its armaments were enough to fight off a gunship… or suppress infantry.
A flicker of satisfaction washed over her as she saw the Stormtrooper scatter like ants from the freighter’s fire. The white plating of their armour made them easy to spot as they ran for cover, or attempted to retreat off the platforms. Her amusement was cut short as she noticed one of the gunships trying to line up a shot, and she quickly veered her ship back around to intercept.
Vexa was about to line up her shot when the gunship fired its missiles, forcing her to reangle. She pulled her ship hard to the side and led her shots generously, shooting a continuous stream of laser fire in their path making them explode before they got a chance to hit their target. The gunship tried to reposition, but it was far too late, another burst of fire from Vexa went straight through the cockpit, sending it down against the rockface.
By now the battle was lost for the Imperials, and they knew it. Stormtroopers, now having lost most of their air support and transport, attempted to evacuate from the monastery, descending down the rigging to attempt a retreat through the jungle. Meanwhile, their last gunship tucked tail and ran in its own right, but Vexa wasn’t having it. She banked her ship around in pursuit and quickly caught up. The gunship attempted to drive her off with its tail laser cannon, but when she returned fire it wasn’t even a contest. Her aim was true as it pierced the tail section. The Imperial ship still went on for a few seconds before suddenly igniting in midair, lighting up the jungle canopy as debris rained down.
As the fires descended to the surface, it was like Vexa could finally breathe again. She exhaled loudly, her grip on her controls easing up as she felt herself able to slump back in her seat. She could feel her heart pounding from the aftershocks of the adrenaline, but calm seemed to return to her slowly despite of it.
When Vexa landed on the monastery platform, she was greeted by Nekari and Tel’ara. This time, the Twi’lek didn’t bear the same angry, disappointed facial expression as before.
“Is everyone alright?” Vexa asked, but immediately felt stupid as of course they wouldn’t be alright after what had just happened.
“If you hadn’t come…” Tel’ara started, but trailed off before she could finish. “Thank you…”
The only thing Vexa could muster in response was a restrained smile and a nod.
“Are you gonna be alright? You made an enemy of the Empire today.” Nekari asked, his voice not disguising the concern. It felt strange to Vexa, seeing as she had been hunting him not a day earlier.
“If any of the troopers recognised my ship, I’ll be long gone before they’ve made their way back to Peroon. Besides, I spoof my transponder codes. The Sovranty hasn’t pinged a valid IFF in three years.”
“Here, take this…” Nekari handed over a collection of credit plates. Not nearly enough to match his bounty, but more than Vexa had. “I make it a point to help those in need, especially when they come through for me.”
Once again all Vexa could muster was a smile and a nod as she raised the credits before putting them away. “What are you gonna do now?”
“We’ll make due.” Tel’ara spoke, her husband Kosha approached from the temple as she did, holding one of his rugs and joined the trio. His hand on her shoulder seemed to ground her in what was to come. “The Empire will come back. Seek retribution for what happened. We’ll take some time to melt into the jungle until they’ve given up and abandon the temple again, then settle back in.”
“We’ve survived worse.” Kosha spoke, his voice carrying the weight of much darker experiences. “This time we lost only brick and mortar. We’ll survive this.” Then he stepped forward and offered his rug to Vexa. “Please,” he said “as thanks, and as something… to remember us by.”
Chapter 7: Food & fuel
“So, Vexa” Mira’s voice echoed through the hangar bay as Vexa was cleaning out the exhaust from her starfighter. “You had another exciting evening playing the hero, but I can’t help but notice we’re still down to ration packs for dinner.”
“Your powers of observation never seem to amaze me, Mira.” A loud thud accompanied Vexa’s sarcasm as she jumped down from her position cleaning the engines and onto the plating below.
“And the bounty? I’m guessing I shouldn’t ask about that?” She crossed her arms and attempted to hide her smirk, but try as she might, the corners of her mouth pulled upwards.
“What bounty?” Vexa asked, sarcastically as she began to wipe her hands on a dirty rag. “Oh, you mean Nekari?” She clenched her lips and shook her head. “Nah, lost him in the jungle. Who knows where he is now.”
“Uhu. And the nysillin?”
“What can I say? He stole it once, he seemingly stole it again.”
“That’s the story we’re sticking with?”
“I am.” Vexa lifted up one of the fuel lines connected to internal storage and hooked it up to the Sovranty.
“At least we have fuel I see.”
“You said it yourself, Mira, food and fuel are expenses.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
The answer was seemingly unsatisfactory to Mira as she shook her head smiling and called out to the computer. “Clip, how much fuel do we have?”
Clip chimed in through the shipwide comm system, its voice echoing through the hangar bay. “fuel reserves will not sustain travel beyond the current hyperspace jump. For future reference, any travel with less than 25% fuel capacity is ill advised."
“Oh he says that every time!”
“Correct. Fifty-eight times to be precise.”