Leaving the tea house and its red door behind them, the crew walks back towards the docking bay where their ship lies waiting.
Wade waits in the intersection, watching the street theatre begin to put on another story.
"Any Problems?"
"Any Problems?"
"None yet, but there's always the road ahead." Wade replied to Maeris as he got up. "From what I hear, it seems Bellarin's authorities are less lax than those here in Noctis. With a particular eye for shipments by train."
He stretched and popped his neck.
"My question right now is if what the Captain sent me over the comm is true or some joke."
"Sometimes people simply need to walk away from where they are in life. Perhaps the captain found his time."
Stretching lightly, Elliot puts his facts in order.
"Seems the Imperials are causing a good deal of trouble for a lot of private companies out here. I hear from Wellson-Sagma that the Imperial demand for raw ore and precious metals is hedging them out."
Looking around the street, the doctor continues, "Even more than them, all the trouble with the mines here has people hunting for workers left and right. I was mistaken for one Haeritt Locard, apparently arranging for workers to head to Nenaxis. From what I hear, it's dangerous, but considering all the problems here, at least work would be assured."
So what's this street theater like?
If I think it's good, I'll give Cinder a cred-disk to toss in their hat or whatever.
"Soz has something for Maeris..."
To Wade.
"Sounds like, I'm as much in the dark here as you. He knows how to get in touch if he needs us."
Laris looks towards Soz expectantly.
To Wade.
"Sounds like, I'm as much in the dark here as you. He knows how to get in touch if he needs us."
Laris looks towards Soz expectantly.
Soz reaches in to his bandoleer and pulls out the blue box. Holding it out to Laris. As she reaches it he doesn't let go right away, instead he steps in a little closer and whispers to her.
"I still want to know who you are delivering the synthene to."
Having said his peace, he releases the box and turns toward the show.
Laris speaks quietly "A Duros, name of Gumal, anyone you know?"
Laris then pulls away and activates her message.
The troupe of actors begin another dramatization based on the acts and works of the Emperor's champion and hero of the Clone Wars, Lord Vader.
The play, occurring after Lord Vader's unfortunate maiming on Mustafar, details the hunt for an unnamed Jedi. This Jedi was once Lord Vader's master (before the Jedi master grew jealous of Vader's skill with a laser sword).
In the play, Lord Vader is portrayed as being unfailingly gentle and kind to loyal subjects of the Empire, once pausing in his quest in order to assist an old woman retrieve her six Keirce cats from a tree. To his enemies, Lord Vader inspires all manner of terror and fright.
At the end of the play, Lord Vader confronts his old master on a space station. The moon-like station had been used as a large orphanage, and the Jedi master had wanted to destroy it. Using his anger and yearning for order & justice, Lord Vader strikes down the Jedi master, who vanishes in a dramatic puff of smoke.
Laeris opens the locket, and it emits a beam of light towards the floor. A flickering holoimage appears of a man dressed in expensive clothes, his face frozen in a look of perpetual contempt, an exquisite blade hung at his waist.
In his right hand, he holds what appears to be a playing card. Instead of a familiar symbol of swords, cups, hearts, or clubs, the card bears the crest of a noble family.
"To you, this message is intended, my lady. You do not know me, but you know the mark of my employer. Know this: not all who travel with you are what they seem. My employer suggests you think carefully on the paths you choose to follow. Before long, things will be set in motion in such a way that you may never come home again, which would be regretable."
"My employer conveys all the affection that is due to you, and hopes you will return safely to Calder very soon. Until that time, his eye will be upon you."
The man in the holoimage points to his left eye with his left hand.
"And believe me, my lady, there are very few places I cannot follow. If you have need, you may call me Gemini... a name of no real importance."
The man's face breaks into a smile of sorts as the holoimage fades.
...
..
..
..
..
..
"Looks like we have all manner of interesting people following us. Hopefully that won't interfere with work too much, though."
Elliot puts on an unconcerned front, but deep down, he wonders what in the galaxy is going to happen now. Trouble like this never ends well for those targetted, and he really doesn't want that kind of trouble in his life. But, he can't leave his friends behind.
Yes, he can call them friends, must call them friends. Without them, he'd probably be lying shot back on Rhudor himself, his sense of justice finally kicking in after all that time asleep. That didn't stop him from having a moment of internal panic watching the message, though.
"Well, what's the plan, Laris? I assume you'll be taking over the captain's seat now, given that it's your ship and all."
Cinder was distracted from the play by the sound of the nobleman's voice from Laris' "message".
She shuddered as she saw his face again, and was about to look away when something about his face caught her eye. She hadn't been able to see his face clearly in the store, but now the sight of it now triggered a flash of memory in her. She struggled to capture the fleeting thought, but all she could hold onto was an impression that something bad in her past was associated with him. She shied away from pushing her memory back farther, and shuddered.
"He's a bad man," she whispered, clutching the parts she held so tightly that her already pale fingers whitened as the blood drained out of them.
The play was ruined. Cinder just wanted to get back to the ship. She stared at the ground and shuffled her feet.
Wade saw the image and instantly recognized the man in it, albeit younger than he should be. Much as he was years ago when they were both younger.
Curious, however, as he'd never seemed to be the type vain enough to alter his holo-image to simply look younger, but to disguise himself. Usually, a younger or older appearance isn't a disguise.
Think, why would you alter your appearance to look like yourself? Perhaps if someone else had seen me before, but not in some time. Would that be it? Could Tertian have chosen an appearance that would be universally identifiable amongst those in the crew who've met him? If so, its a clever ploy. Alternatively, that could have been someone impersonating him from a holovid of him, not knowing his actual age.
He would have to work through the probabilities later, focus on the situation at hand. Glancing around he searched for any recognition by the rest of the crew. Little Cinder's was the most obvious.
He took another look, this time at the insignia, but didn't recognize it. Instead, he did his best to memorize it for research later, when he had time to himself.
Wade wished he could have actually heard the message instead of just seeing the image and the insignia, but such are situations in the field. Get what you can, use it to the best of your ability, and get the job done.
"So, how's about we figure out our next step?"
Laris' eyes tighten at the sight of the crest, she considers a moment before speaking.
"It appears my past is catching up with me. I'd hoped to let it lie for a while - but it's not fair to you to avoid explaining."
"I'm on the run from people with power and resources, and I've possibly annoyed the Hut as well, I'm evidently naive enough to beleive that a name change and a new identity is enough to escape."
"If any of you want out, I'll offer you a loan to get yourself started, but for the three of you at least - they know your association with me, and I'm not convinced you'll be safe even if you leave."
Laris waits to see if anyone has any comments...
Soz scratches his head, trying to remember some fuzzy detail, finally with a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders he looks to Laris.
"Wouldn't be the first time I've had to deal with an agent of House Reiss. Except for the matter we talked about earlier, I've never had a problem with you. Hell, I owe you for helping me back on Rhudor, so I'll help you for my normal job fee."
As the discussion trails off, Laris' commlink emits a polite twinkle. The tune alerts her that an incoming comm-signal has been re-routed to her personal commlink from the ship's comm.
A hesitant voice can be heard through Laris' commlink. "Hello? Hello? Greetings to you, Miss Maeris Gaille. I am Tulgam, humble servant to Gumal. My master hopes you have traveled many pleasant parsecs, and desires for you to visit Port Bellarin soon. My master would also remind you of the many benefits of the Grey Sector docking bays. My master will know when you arrive, and every effort to ensure an uncomplicated visit will be made."
"Time to go"
Laris boards the ship
Before long, the ship lifts off the dusty pad, headed heaven-ward. Few of the spaceport's residents look up, knowing that yet another traveler has only come and gone, providing only the least life-giving trade that the outsiders could offer. While the spaceport might go on, it would never be more than a dusty outpost at this rate.
The trip through the skies to the northern continent is a long one. The dimensions of the planet are larger than typical of terrestrial worlds. The mostly barren surface is pitted with the scars of mining operations - both old and abandoned mines, and freshly torn wounds in the planet's surface. While the miners provide valuable raw materials for industry across the sector, one gets the feeling that Phloeron itself is treated in a harsh and unloved way.
The skies and space above Phloeron have resumed a more normal pattern of commerce-bearing traffic. Clusters of TIE fighters dart between merchanter vessels, with the boarding parties from the dreadnought's assault shuttles completely outnumbered and overworked amongst the larger number of freighters currently arriving in the system.
Elliot sat in his bunk, staring at the wall like it wasn't there. A troubled calm filled the room, like water, rippling after a rock had been thrown in.
I had a chance, there. I could have just walked away from this. Maybe arranged for those miners to head to Nenaxis, or helped those engineers give the Empire the roundabout. Wouldn't have been too hard, either, with my skills. And yet...I'm still here. What is it about this place? These people? I just can't walk away from them. Even though I know I need to...I just can't stop caring about them.
Sighing, rubbing his face with his hands as he arose, Elliot made his way to the infirmary. Being a doctor, he found comfort in his chosen workspace, rather than the fear, or insecurity that most felt within its walls. Slowly, he walked about the room, touching an item here, running a hand along a counter top there.
Things will begin to change from now on. I don't know what my future holds, now that I stopped jumping ships. I'm not sure I like the idea...but now I have to face it. I don't know if I can do this, but...I think I just might be able to...
As his thoughts trailed off into silence within his head, Elliot gave the operating table a final pat. "Good to see you again, friend."
Cruising high above Port Bellarin, the ship circles as the port city's orderly flight control relays final docking instructions. With a berth in the Grey Zone district already assigned, all that remains to be processed is the standard exchange of electronic greetings and verifications between the slaved nav droid systems on-board and the port's flight control network on the ground.
The city below is arranged like an ungainly sea star, or perhaps the six-lobed liver of the rugged Trandoshan people, for those with a background in xenoanatomy. The arrangement is typical of high traffic spaceports - exterior docking facilities, surrounding an interior adminstrative hub.
The ship makes its descent towards the southern lobe - a hab/port area known as the Grey Zone. It is larger than the other lobes, with a handful of broad streets. The majority of the Grey Zone is tighly packed and densely settled (except for mid-day, it's likely that most of the inhabitants see little direct sunlight within the confines of their district). The buildings are a nondescript grey tone, which reflects the unwillingness of its inhabitants to pay for colorful exteriors.
As the ship receives an electronic clearance for docking bay 13F, a message from the ground comes through to the cockpit. "Hello? Greetings, Miss Maeris Gaille. I am Tulgam, humble servant to Gumal. The information regarding your arrival has been noted, and we expect no complications for your arrival. A welcoming committee will be dispatched shortly to 13F. My master eagerly awaits his shipment."
...
The landing is uneventful. Even light local air traffic keeps a fair distance from the ship as it descends.
Docking bay 13F is as unattended as the docking bay in Port Noctis on the other side of the planet, but that is where the similarities end. The poured concrete pad is flawless, and the landing markings are clear & bright. A small army of attendant droids wait in sheltered alcoves around the bay, ready to provide fuel and maintenance at a moment's notice. After the ship lands, flood lights turn on as a metal enclosure seals the top of the docking bay - protecting the ship & its cargo from the elements (as well as from orbital imagery).
Everything about the docking bay is clean and efficient, if somewhat lacking in an obvious sentient presence.
Walking down the ramp Soz frowns as he looks up at the metal enclosure sealing them in. He didn't like the idea of the ship being trapped in the case of a double cross, but it appeared he didn't have a choice. With a quick check of his weapons he turns to Laris.
"So what's the plan boss?"
"Hope everything goes to plan." Laris smiles.
In a muhc lower tone "Everything's a bit too clean and polished - I want us all ready if things go wrong. Keep us ready to fly - we'll blast our way out if necessary - and keep your eyes open. Unfortunately we can't afford to just walk out on this one."
"I don't much favor a sealed docking bay. Should things take a wrong turn, we'll be trapped here." Shrugging, Elliot double checks his bag for all his supplies. "Not that there's much we can do about that. I suppose we'll make the best of it, while we've the time."
As the crew finalizes the post-landing checklist, those with no landing routines step down the ramp into the spotless docking bay. "Cleaned" is not the right word for the meticulous level of scrubbing and cleansing that has been conducted here.
A polite chime overhead announces the arrival of someone or something outside the docking bay doors. The sound of gears moving heavy blast doors can be heard, but there is no visual change in the large hangar-side door. It remains closed.
Only after the moaning of heavy servos have ended does a second series of actuators begin to open the hangar's inner doorway. Peering into the space beyond, the crew can see that there is space for a heavy speeder/hauler between the hangar's inner cargo door and an outer door, which presumably opens to the street beyond.
In that space beyond the inner cargo door, a large speeder with an enclosed cargo space hovers with a deep and resonating thrum. There is an ample crew cab on the cargo speeder, with room for perhaps half a dozen men. The rear part of the cab is hidden from view.
The driver and the passenger in the front of the speeder's crew cab (a Human driver, his Duro passenger) sit patiently as the docking bay's doors slide open.
|
Cinder sighed and looked around the engine room one last time. The engines looked good - she knew that Ulula and her would have noticed if something went wrong with the repairs under the stress of landing. All the tools were put away, the systems locked in landed mode, and the room as clean as an engine room could be. She glanced down with a rueful quirk of her lips at her stained work clothes. Cleaner than her. Yet...she was still hesitant to make her way out of the room. There was a muffled thump as the hatch opened and touched the ground, and some strange clanking noises echoing haphazardly down the ship's corridors. Cinder sighed again and ran her hand through her hair, unaware of the faint trail of brownish black oil she left through her shockingly white hair. It was time to go. Her own fears and inadequacies aside, the last trip groundside would've been uneventful if she hadn't panicked. It would surely be the same on this planet.
She turned and left her sanctuary to make her way toward the hatch, trialing a minute or so behind Ulula.
Laris watches the speeder and it's crew appraisingly, waiting for them to make the first move.
Wade walked the corridor to the loading ramp of the ship, and saw the nervous little Cinder.
"Don't worry, kid, not everything that happens out there is bad." He said as he passed by.
He stepped on out and up next to Maeris, once again assuming the familiar stance in which he rests one hand on his belt and the other on his gun.
"So, is the recipient of the package a new or old acquaintance?" He asked Maeris, while keeping an eye on the newcomers.
"A newcomer, from my perspective."
Laris touch's her hand to her sword.
"I am Maeris, are you here to see me?"
Soz stood protectively beside Laris rifle in hand. His eyes scanning the speeder waiting for any sign of movement. He coughed slightly and his throat was suddenly noticeably dry to him, what he wouldn't give for just one drink, just to calm his nerves...