...I felt it. The heat of the blaster bolt zoomed past my left cheek, giving it a slight burn. Frak, that was close. I look up, sweat drenched hair disturbing my view. But through the strands I saw the rodian drop  to the floor in front of me. He wasn't shot, not by a blaster. He looked alive. But stunned. Paralyzed.

"Are you alright sir?"

  My uncle's protocal droid, I-47. His dusty frame moved toward me, replacing his shock stick, and helped me to my feet.

  "Thank you 47. I thought you were shut down."

"Correct sir. Master Ra'kus programmed me with to turn on if my sensors detected intruders. I'm afraid I couldn't respond in time to save my Master, or his mate."

  "Aunt Serrah!? She's... dead?"

For the first time in my adult life, I felt taken aback. Surprised. I.. I can't explain this one emotion. It's.. elusive..

  I-47 answered, "Sorry sir. She was attacked first, Master attempted to defend them, but was tortured before murdered. They started to rob the house, Master's mate awoke and attempted to call the authorities. A simple robbery, gone terribly wrong."

  I didn't know what to think. Part of me swelled with anger, another bloomed with confusion. I walked over to my uncle, he still wore a face of content. Even in his murder, he showed no sign of fear, or hate. Atleast no sign I could see....

                            Two Hours Later...

  I-47 and I alerted the Coruscanti police, and Der Cacheek, a falleen investigator, wrote up all the information. I now sat on the steps of my home, looking over to the skylanes, where countless cruisers of all makes flew by.

  "Could I be of any other service sir?" I-47 asked.
"No. Thank's for all the help 47, is my transport ready?"
  "Yes sir. Where will you be going sir?"
"To the Mustafar system. I'll be back soon enough. Keep the the place tidy will you?" 

  "Of course sir."

--Mustafar

Hot, stuffy, breezey, and red. Typical Mustafar night. Red molten rivers of lava weaved their way throughout the planet, safely protected by repulsor feilds. Phineus stepped off of his now dead uncle's personal space transport. He quickened his pace, his posture upright as to give off a strong and confident appearance.

"Continue to waypoint five-one-charlie, I'll meet you there." He spoke in a low tone to his short T3 droid.

After letting out a set of affirmative beeps, T3-K1 whipsly moved west, away from the northward Phineus. The are surrounding him had been severely changed since the last time he's been here. A few more dim buildings, a cantina or two, even some major corporate offices. Most of the mining facilities were still there, unsurprisingly.

The northern Mustafarians were tall, slim people, and Phineus -in a way- resembled them. Even his walk drew from the fiery pits of Jestefad and Lefrani. Equipped to his side was a standard Mustafarian disruptor pistol, one which his mother gave him years ago, and he was dressed in edited Mustafarian garb, made especially for the few humans whom lived here. All black, it resembles a tight robe, and the tail end blew in the swift hot wind.

Phineus had a certain look on his face, he was one-hundred percent positive that he knew exactly what to do, down to the very last detail. He had thought it over on the flight here. He was to contact Jeridu Montap, one whom he had a meeting planned. Montap was a bounty hunter, and had apparently worked for Phineus' father in the past. That's why Phin was here. It's why he came all this way. His family, all but one member, now lay dead. And he wanted to meet the man whom he thought responsible. And get back the things he was forced to leave behind when his mother and him were forced to exile the planet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phineus waltzed into Heldger's cantina, the scent of cigar smoke and drunk mining workers filled his nose. The cantina glowed with a dark red tint, similar to that of the planet itself. Phineus scouted the place about with his eyes, and caught those of a Duros, sipping from his bright yellow drink, giving a slight head tilt to Phin

Phin took a seat at the table the Duros bounty hunter sat, directly across from him.

"Ah! Good to meet the son of Laban. Your skin is surprisingly light for a Mustafar native, and you are shorter than I assumed." Montap said as a joke to himself.

"Where's my father?" Phineus asked coldly, apathetic to the Duros' attempt at poking fun.

"Why so serious?" Montab asked, taking another gulp of his drink. "Your father's location is apparently important to you, and I am one of the few who have it, no? I think we can work something out."

Phineus gazed off to the side, where a protocal droid offered a drink,  to which Phin shook his head and returned his gaze to Montab.

"I think this is enough incentive.." Phineus rebuker, just as cold and sly as before.

And just then, T3-K1 rolled through the cantina to their table, and flashed a holovid of the interior of a ship, most likely corellian, and a large set of grenades strapped across the hull.

Montab stared with a quizzical look. "You pig..."

"It's a nice ship, I was surprised T3 here could get in." Phin let out, never taking his eyes off of Montab, he also removed his Disruptor blaster and held it under the table, aiming for the Duros. "Normally I don't like violence, and wound't resort to such a thing, I'm a firm believer of never messing with another man's ship, but you see -I'm in a bad mood. My complete family has just been slaughtered, and you informed your employer, my father, that I'm in town and he has ordered you to kill me. And bounty hunters are supposed to be a step ahead of the rest, but I'm two steps ahead of you. And trust me, three steps ahead of my father. See Montab? I'm smarter than you think."

Phineus never felt so anxious, yet he still delivered each line to perfection. He felt, for he first time, in complete control.

Montab cursed to himself, and addressed the situation. "And so you are. Your father is closer than you think..."

OOC:

Next time in Rodian Raiders - Phineus treks out to find his father, and is confronted by a mysterious Muun...

Phineus reorganized his pack, now implementing his old belongings. A DCs-15 blaster pistol, and a Sat`skar sword. Finally, he had gripped in his hands the final momento of his past. A band, to be worn on the wrist, made of fabrics from Mustafar . Each color, each fabric, had it's own meaning. In all it read,

A destiny held at an elbows length,
To determine a mind.
Fear, love, anger, hate,
Fold them inside.

For years Phineus never minded what it meant, just some wise poem. But he wondered now what exactly the words meant. His mother recited them to him as a child, years before she past.

Phineus heard a short thunder outside, and finished up his pack.

"Alright TK, we're almost finished here." He mentioned to T3-K1, whom had shut down since entering the cave. With a few flickers and beeps, he awoke.

T3 let out some beeps and buzzes.

"No, nothing like that." Phineus replied, then met by more droid speak, "Don't mind me TK. Yeah I know, we'll be off this place soon enough."

Phineus heard yet another thunder outside, this one however was long, and much louder than before. It kept it's pace strong, until the thunder continued to roll, unstopped, a sound Phineus knew all too well. He hurried to the opening of the cave, peering outside. His instincts where correct. A volcanic eruption. The lava rolled up to the unprotected town.

"Run TK!!" Phineus yelled as he spun around, sprinting through the cave.

Lava burst through the entrance, the heat making Phineus burst into a hard sweat as he leapt down to a lower level of the cave, TK activated his repulsor jets and came down nice and easy, then continued to move as fast as possible. Phineus' hair blew in the wind he created, and he withdrew his data-pad on the run.

Phineus punched some numbers, letters and codes into it and tried his best to keep moving at the same speed.

"Still with me?!" Phineus called out, breathing heavily.

TK let out some quick beeps, letting his owner know he was right behind him. Phineus could feel the heat even more, and the ground around him began to tremble some more. Death seemed imminent.

Nothing's impossible, Gage. Not one thing.

The two made some turns and leapt down to yet another level, when he finally spotted an opening. The cave's back also opened up, revealing a lava river twenty stories below, Phineus used to come back here when he was a kid and threw stones down into the river. He recalled how the rocks would melt before they even dipped into the lava.

It was his only choice. He had to take it.

Phineus tried to keep his pace up as he took out his data pad from his pocket and thumbed in some numbers, letters, and codes. He was only twenty yards from the opening now.

"Keep with me!!" He called out to T3.

This is crazy. He thought as he reached the end of the cave.

Without breaking pace, without even blinking, he leapt from the cave. Only twenty stories seperated the cave from the lava river. If he was off by a fraction, he, and T3, would be lava fodder.

Phineus kept his cool, but on the inside he was full of fear. T3 squeeled as he fell right above Phineus. They had dropped twelve stories.

Phineus could feel the lavas heat from below him, and noticed the lava from the cave had fell, chasing them down.

Bad idea..

Just as the thought came to him, his Wandering Flyer 191 swooped right below him. The pain from hitting the seat sent a jolt of pain throughout his body. He heard T3's squeeling end as he slammed into the passenger seat.

Phineus had programmed the Flyer via his data pad to arrive at these exact coordinates, a true gamble, but in life you had to gamble. Phineus closed the Flyer's hatch, and flew off faster than he could think what he was doing.

"Woohoo!!" He screamed, T3 gave a chirping rebuttle of agreement.

They were able to pull away from the lava river and downpouring lava from above.

Phineus suddenly awoke, somehow standing. He wasn't on Mustafar anymore, the land here was hot, sand blew into his eyes and stuck to his hair. He was standing there, in the hot, sand driven weather, naked. Clothes stripped from his body. Somehow. He didn't even feel tired, completely refreshed. Whispers. Silent, slimy whispers crawled in through the back of his skull..

"He's out here. You'll learn. Return home when the time is right."

The Muun plagued his head, and left as quick as he came. Phineus grew confused, and was still very much so naked. It was quite obvious what he needed to accomplish.

Phineus traversed through the whipping sand, hair blowing rapidly. Some men on banthas passed by, lending the strangest of looks. He made his way to an small camp, populated by three, four tiny shacks. A scar ridden woman popped out from one of the shacks, looking quite scared of Phineus.

"Excuse me, Milady," Phineus began, "May I bother you for some clothes? If you have any to spare."

The woman walked back inside the small hut, then outcame a man, large in stature, albeit wearing eyes of fear.

"It appears you need clothing." The man stated.

Phineus glanced to his left, then back at the man, "Yeah, that'll help." he said half sarcastically.

"Well, I don't have much, but here." The man replied, throwing some garb Phineus' way.

He quickly dressed in the torn shirt and pants, and departed the lowly shack. He recieved directions from the man to get into the city. He was also informed of his whereabouts, Tatooine.

He trekked his way through the barren outskirt of the city, finally making it inside. He had no clue what he would do here. He had some odd feeling however that his father was around. That thought scared him. Phineus opted to check into a cantina for now, he was sure he could find some odd fellows there who may have some information, if that's what he was trult looking for.

Inside Del's Cantina, Phineus sat alone in the corner, scoping everyone out. Droids, humans, rodians, everyone. He spotted a B-1 Combat Battle Droid walk through the door, and begin to walk to the back of the cantina, where Phineus sat. Phineus kept his eyes on the B-1 with every move..

The droid took a seat across from Phineus, and spoke in a hard, metallic, voice.

"Saw you naked outside of the city walls," the droid began, "Didn't know that was your kind of thing."

The droid had sarcasm, Phineus already liked it.

"Who are you?" Phineus asked.

The droid looked into Phin's eyes, almost as if he was saddened.

"It's me," he stated, "Your mother owned me. I was sent here by a strange character of sorts. Said you would be here. I found you. Now we hunt."

Phineus was confused for a moment, "Hunt for what?"

The droid let out a scappy laugh, "Your father. You're not the only one programmed for revenge."

Phineus knew this droid was different. Phineus didn't know how to make sense of it..

The fiery ball the size of a small meteor flew above the Aargau city, entering hard into the atmosphere. The flaming ball of mass was coming in faster enough to level a building or two if it kept its current path. The citizens of the Aargau night craned their heads upward, eyes wide open in panic.

“We’re coming in too hot, Cap!” The co-pilot of the fiery CRF-78R Fast Courier exclaimed to his pilot in the seat next to his own.

“I can see that, Jules. Just keep her steady, we may come out of this alive,” the pilot announced hopefully.

“I hope so, I’ve got that hot date tonight,” Jules stated.

The pilot, Keiji Dyson, let out a deep, smooth chuckle. His deeper voice balanced that of his co-pilot, Julius Xerxes, whom carried higher pitched vocal cords. The CRF-78R courier, the two smuggler’s favored ship, had hull damage all around; the interior of the craft was plagued with loud screams from the escaping air that was sucked out of the Courier.

“I still can’t understand why those Star Destroyers fired on us like that, I mean dayum, what in the kriffing galaxy did we do?” Jules asked, having to raise his voice as the hull grew louder.

Dyson put all his effort into guiding the Courier above the skyscrapers, trying to make it over the Aargau Ocean that lay past the city, “We’re smugglers in an unidentified craft rushing into a fortress world planet garrisoned with hundreds of Imperial warships.”

“Oh, well, yeah man, when you put it like that,” Jules stated, half embarrassed that he should’ve figured that.

Dyson pulled back hard on the yoke, trying to convince the Courier to head starboard where the misty blue ocean lay. The Courier, other wise known as the Moon’s Fury, began to tumble away starboard, thudding along as it continually descended, a mere ten meters from scraping across the tall Aargau buildings. Dyson struggled to keep it airborne as long as he had, and prayed to keep it up for just ten, maybe fifteen seconds longer. The escape pods were damaged once the Star Destroyer shot its turbolaser into the Moon’s Fury, and the only way they could survive was to crash land in the ocean and work their way from there.

C’mon, give me five more seconds, Dyson pondered.

The Fury’s engines came to a complete halt, utterly shutting off from all the damage they incurred. The craft began to freefall downward on its starboard side. At this current state, it would successfully land in the Aargau Ocean, though closer towards the shore than Dyson would have liked. The impact could very easily injure both of them, potentially fatally.

“Ay, Cap, think we’ll pull out of this one?” Jules asked.

Dyson tightened his crash webbing, “One would hope. Strap yourself in as tight as possible, this won’t be pretty.”

Jules grinned at that statement, “It always is with us.”

The Courier hit hard against the watery substance Julius and Dyson now used as a landing pad. The two pilots were protected by their crash webbing; without it, they would undoubtedly be severely injured at the very least. The Fury floated atop the calm waters as the two unstrapped themselves and climbed out of a hole created in the ceiling towards the aft of the ship.

“Look at that,” Jules pointed towards three boats making their way toward the crash landed Courier, “our own welcoming committee.”

As the three boats rapidly came closer, Dyson suddenly realized that they weren’t being welcomed, at least not in the friendly way. “Patrol skiffs!”

“Coming to check up on us, make sure we’re all good,” Jules assumed.

“No, they’re not equipped with medical assistance,” Dyson realized. “They’re not even security officials.” Dyson reached his right hand down to his hip holster, where his DL-44 hung loosely. “I don’t like this.”

The patrol skiffs halted within two meters from the wrecked Courier, “Ahoy!” One of the leaders called out, “Make one move and you’ll be blasted up worse than that ship of yours.”

Dyson and Jules stood atop the floating wreckage, confused, and none too willing to give themselves up. Until they witnessed as the side hatches of the three skiffs open, revealing ten men per skiff, all armed with a Devastator Acid Launcher, a more than deadly weapon outlawed on most planets, including Aargau.

“They’re certainly not security forces,” Dyson whispered to Jules.

The men, looking as though they were pirates or mercenaries of some sort, raised their weapons. “Now, or suffer a great death,” the apparent leader threatened.

Each of the pirates were dressed out in black tactical uniforms, most of which bore bright green half stripes on their left shoulders. Two of them sported light blue half stripes, while the apparent leader sported a red half stripe on each shoulder. Dyson raised his arms, knowing that there was no safe way out of this, much to Jules’ surprise.

“We giving up?” Jules surmised.

Dyson shot him a lowered brow glance, as if to say he was disappointed in his thinking that Dyson would give up so easily.

“May I ask what we did?” Dyson spoke towards the leader.

“You’ve smuggled from us, the Gah’Tah clan, and no one lives to reap the goods,” his words were slimey, not surprising due to his Barabel hailing.

“Oh, yeah, we did do that,” Jules said half jokingly.

The leader warned again, “So you did. I am Tesar, leader of my clan of Barab I, and I suggest you board our skiffs before trouble is made, and death becomes imminent.”

“Whaddayou think, Cap? This guys scarin’ you enough?” Jules asked sarcastically.

Dice let out a brief chuckle, “The invitation is kind, Tesar, but we’ve got our own transportation off this wreck.”

In no longer it took to speak those words than it did for Dyson to leap nearly a meter into the air, with help from his two cybernetic legs, and gripped tightly to the pointy head fin of an M-31 Airspeeder, flying over and beyond the three pirate skiffs. Dyson turned his head around, facing the canopy of the airspeeder and witnessed luckily as Julius was able to do the same, clinging as tight as he could a foot or two from Dyson, closer to the canopy. The airspeeder climbed upwards and entered into the nearby Aargau capital of New Escrow, the banking capital of the galaxy as well. It took a dip over the Garden of Butterflies, flying around two or three meters above the grassy mid-level of the Garden. Dyson peered over to Julius and gave him a nod. Jules let go of the speeder, landing in a tuck and roll to decrease the pain and to prevent from his knee caps popping. Dyson followed suit, and landed a meter away from Jules.

The two sprung to their feet, “Nothin’ like a free lift,” Jules remarked.

Dyson patted him on the back as the exited the Garden, “Nice work, let’s get some food.”

On the other side of the Garden, unbeknownst to the two smugglers, stood a tall Amani, his skin a yellow and green, his height nearly reaching three meters. His indented eyes stared through a pair of binoculars, targeting the two smugglers. He glanced down at his Fwit guardian, or more so his pet.

“Come Fwee, we must follow.”

-Dazza’s-

A few blocks from the Bank of Aargau, Mustafa, B-1, and sat in the most elegant of restaurants, Dazza’s. The on the walls hung brilliant artistic work of landscapes, varying from the sparkling seas of Manaan, to the grassy plains of Maridun. In between each piece of art work was a holonet viewer, displaying holodramas to the latest game of Grav-ball. The soup bowls were made of pure gold with silver trim. The utensils were heavier than average, due to the fine craftiness and pure gold they too were made of. It was a bit overwhelming, and Phineus felt more than a little out of place there.

Mustafa managed to score the three their own personal table in the far corner of the restaurant. Just as they did in Mustafa’s office, Phineus and B-1 sat side by side, with Mustafa across from them. Mustafa was halfway through his tail soup, as was B-1- he may have been ninety-percent droid, but he still hungered- though Phineus had barely eaten himself. It’s not that he wasn’t hungry; as a matter of fact he hadn’t eaten since before he dueled with his father, but he had no appetite.

The discussion that occurred over the last fifteen standard minutes, centered mainly around stories and memories Mustafa and B-1 had of Kaydee Gage. Phineus was incredibly interested in hearing tales of his mother, but knew that they were just telling them to stall.

“Why haven’t we resumed our previous conversation?” Phineus finally butted in.

B-1 and Mustafa both looked at him unexpectedly with B-1 chipping in, “We’ve been spied on.”

Mustafa nodded, curling his fingers, “Since we left the bank. Casual conversation has driven the spy’s attention span away for now, but she’ll be checking in soon enough.”

Phineus was flabbergasted, “Spy?”

Mustafa nodded once again, “The female Twi’lek, in the corner, near the kitchen doors.”

Phineus slyly glanced across the room, and caught the eyes of the most beautiful Twi’lek he’s every seen in his short life. Her skin was a light blue, her eyes as well. Her twin lekkus hung off her shoulders. She was dressed in a modest, beige tunic. The only thing Phineus knew what to do was smile his trade mark smile. She shied away at first before ultimately returning an embarrassed smile.

“How can you be sure she’s spying?” Phineus inquired.

B-1 turned his head towards Phineus, “My scanners pick up a spy equipment hub placed underneath her table, not to mention how much she looks over here.”

Phineus kept his eyes on the Twi’lek, “Maybe she simply thinks I’m good looking.”

Both B-1 and Mustafa scoffed at his remark, Mustafa added, “Good joke, Lord Gage. Shall we finish up our soup, and then depart back to my office? It will be safer there.”

Phineus stood, “If you’ll excuse me, gents.”

B-1 sounded confused, even for a droid, “Sir?”

“I’m gonna go check her out, I’ll report back,” Phineus stated with a sly wink.

He started over to the Twi’leks table, smiling as to make sure she didn’t grow nervous. He placed his hand on the chair across from hers, “May I?”

The Twi’lek’s blue face reddened, “You may.”

Phineus sat, and extended his hand, “Name’s Phineus Gage.”

The Twi’lek extended hers as well, shaking Phin’s, “Mine’s Paka Tun.”

Paka swelled with embarrassment, and that made Phineus smirk. He never would have imagined he would have such an effect on someone so beautiful, so elegant.

“It’s certainly my pleasure to meet you, Paka,” Phin said with a grin. Phineus’ right hand slid slowly down to his thigh, landing lightly on his Mustafarian blaster. “You wouldn’t happen to be spying on me and my odd group of friends there would you Paka?”

Phineus kept his smile wide and his jets cool, and Paka began to redden more, “You noticed?”

Phineus removed the blaster from its holster, “I did. Now please, tell me why.”

“Because I was sent to protect you,” Phineus replaced the blaster, but still kept his hand on the butt of it just in case. “You’re being hunted.”

Phin’s brow narrowed in uncertainty, “I’m sorry?”

Paka nodded, “Your Muun banker friend, his agenda ends with your death tonight.”

Phineus didn’t entirely doubt Paka, he had suspected something was off with Mustafa, but his information was getting crossed, and he didn’t like not having a clear truth to mull over. Before he could even begin to make total assessments on the muddled situation, a loud explosion sounded from behind him. The bright light clogged Phineus vision; the loud buzzing disrupted his hearing. He felt a strong tug on his left arm and some sort of worried shout as he was lead in some direction his mind couldn’t quite tell yet. Each one of his senses were playing catch up with his physical body as he was lead deeper into the direction unknown.

As his sight finally returned, Phineus witnessed the howling night life of the banking region on Aargau. The only reason it was howling, and not taking a break from its usual mathematician ventures was due to the explosion from the restaurant. He also noticed Paka running as fast as she could, pulling Phineus along with her. She made an abrupt right turn into a deserted alleyway. The sharp turn was too much for the unexpecting Phin as his legs tangled up with Paka’s. Phineus fell flat on his back, with Paka falling on top of his chest.

Phineus opened his eyes, and stared in the Twi’lek’s blue crystals that seemed to put him into a trance, “Who are you?”

Paka beamed, “I’m your new friend, Paka.”

The two shared a small laugh before coming to their feet, “I need to find my friends…”

Paka dusted herself off, “No need for them anymore, I know where your ship is.”

Phineus cocked his head slightly and narrowed his brow, “You know about my inheritance?”

“I told you,” she began, punching in commands on her data pad, “I was hired to protect you, like that B-1 droid was. I know all about you.”

Phineus understood now how she would know, but was still unnerved by Mustafa’s deception, “Are you sure the Muun was planning my demise?”

The alleyway was dark, damp, and a place Phineus would rather not be in. He figured Paka felt the same as he noticed her rapidly pressing in codes on her data pad.

“I’m positive. I’ve been staking him out for the past week. He’s planned it quite well, I think.”

Phineus shook his head in unbelief, “Impossible. A week ago I wasn’t planning on coming here.”

Paka bore an innocent smile, “But he did. You can’t possibly believe that the events of the past week have happened by chance.”

Phineus ran his fingers through his hair, “I did, yeah. So the Muun hired the Rodian raiders?”

“No, silly,” Paka said playfully, “that was your father as you believed. Your battle droid was in fact hired by the Muun to help you,” she paused, “more likely ensure you took out your father, so that once all that was left of the Gageus clan was you, he could soon kill you as well.”

Phineus didn’t like it, but it certainly made sense.

“My speeder’s auto piloting itself to our position, I can take you to my place, you’ll be safe there.”

“You have room for a droid?” Phineus asked as he opened up a comm channel to TK whom he had left to guard the Flyer, “TK, make your way to my position double time.”

Paka grinned, “More droids?”

“Ah, this one’s trust worthy, built him myself.”

“I see,” Paka’s J-12 Twin Pod speeder droned by overhead, “Hope he can wheel over here soon, your assassins will be coming.”

“He’s here now,” Phineus said, pointing to the wheeling T3 droid.

“Hop in brown eyes, I’ll set your droid up in the cargo hold.”

Once they strapped themselves in, the J-12 speeder quickly ascended into the skylanes and departed to their ultimate destination.

-Streets of Aargau-

The night air was crisp and cold, albeit cooling and refreshing. Julius and Dyson were dressed in their usual smuggler’s bests. Jules fit nicely into his plain black t-shirt and bantha-leather vest, brown pants and red boots. Dyson was dressed in his usual black doublet over a white t-shirt, completed with matching black pants and boots. The two walked through the un-crowded Aargau streets with a purpose as they tried to lose their tail.

“He still on us?” Dyson asked without peering back to look.

Jules, walking at Dyson’s left side, casually looked back, “Nah, I think we lost him somewhere, he’s…”

Their tale had jumped out right in front of them, much to the smugglers astonishment. The Amani stood out even in the dark Aargau night, with his tall frame, his Fwit guardian, and his green hide and yellow front side. Around his neck hung a necklace sporting the bones of a small creature’s foot. The loosely hanging belt around his thick waist carried a canteen near his right hip, and to his left a small skull. In his left hand he held a wooden staff, thick at the body and slimming to the top, where it was carved into the sharpest point possible. A simple brush against its tip could slash open a Taun-Taun’s stomach and it stood about eleven feet high. Strapped to his back was a satchel carrying four more deadly staffs, though these were around half the size. His neck was strong, his gaze murderous, and his mouth sharp. Menacing barely described this Amani.

“You!” The Amani pointed his long, thick finger at the two smugglers.

Dyson reached slowly for his blaster, “Look, whatever you want, I’m sure we can work something out, right?” Dyson said with a nervous smile.

The Amani chuckled, even his laugh was extremely deep, “The price on your heads is too high to pass up.”

“Ah, shoulda figured,” Jules began, “a regular man of class bounty hunter.”

Dyson grunted, “One had to catch up with us eventually.”

Before another word could be spoken, the ground shook, a loud rumble thudded through the city, and a fiery mass erupted in a nearby restaurant. Dyson and Jules nearly lost their balance, almost falling flat on the concrete walkway. The smoke rose from the restaurant over one-hundred meters above the ground. Dice and Jules turned back in the opposite direction, when ten Acid Launchers pointed at their face.

“You won’t be escaping this time, you smuggling scum,” the pirate Clan leader announced. “And we’ll be hauling in your Amani friend too.”

The two smugglers had no choice but to surrender, their minds were still hazed from the unexpected explosion, and the Amani, whom was closer to the blast, was on the ground, knocked cold. The pirates embraced stun-cuffs around their hands and loaded the three into their shuttle.

“Where are you taking us?” Dyson asked as they hooked his stun-cuffs to the shuttle’s overhead grip bars.

The pirate boss scoffed at the question, “You don’t want to know.”

“Humor me,” Dyson said with disdain.

“You foolish, smuggling scums. You will be taken to our Clan’s warlord, in orbit aboard our ship,” the Kaleesh clansmen noted venomously. “And he is not as forgiving as I,” he said with a deep spited laugh.

The shuttle loomed over the Aargau atmosphere without any resistance from the vast amount of Imperial Star Destroyers. Above the planet’s vast ISD cloud, and was heading toward an MC30c Frigate, in a burnt red-brown looking as though it had been through one too many battles. The faces on Jules and Dyson were glum, but they certainly wouldn’t give up without a fight.

-Back on Aargau-

Paka’s safe house was damp and confined, the roof had a steady dripping leak, and the windows were colored a dark orange with dust and mold. The walls were cracked, and the furniture- consisting merely of two couches and a chipped wooden table- were as well ridden with their fair share of holes and collection of dust that seemed to pile up every where. Phineus swiveled his head from side to side in the tiny room barely fit for a gizka.

“Nice place,” Phineus said without glowing sarcasm, but with a minor bit of discomfort. 

“It serves its purpose,” Paka said, darting her eyes from side to side as well as if she was even uneasy about the small apartment.

The apartment complex itself was thirty stories high, each story filled with twenty apartments. Out in the hall, the two heard the familiar sound of boots click clacking against the cold ground.

“Expecting company?” Phineus asked.

“Not me; must be another apartment’s party or something.”

“No,” Phineus shook his head. “These apartments can barely fit five people.”

Paka’s face began to redden and her lekkus startled to cringe, “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I’m not so sure,” Phineus said as the foot steps grew louder.

They could now here the chattering of Kaleesh language, spoken fiercely as though they were meant to issue military commands.

“We need to get out of here,” Phineus claimed urgently. “Is there another exit, some sort of escape route?”

Paka shook her head, “Well, no. No, there isn’t. But, maybe it’s nothing.”

The door to Paka’s apartment blew open, blinding Phineus. The ringing in his ears pierced through his ear drums, but he could still make out the sounds of boots clambering in the room yelling orders. He then felt a strong, blunt object smack against his skull. The crack of his head was the last thing he heard.

-Aboard the Izvoshra-

The MC30c Frigate had entered the borders of Kadok space in the Outer Regions. Julius and Dyson were side by side, a meter apart, their arms tied together above their heads, attached to the overhead dura-steel grip bar. On the opposite side of the torture chamber’s interior, the Amani bounty hunter was tied up as well. Aft of the interior- to Jules and Dyson’s left, and to the Amani’s right- were Phineus and Paka, tied as well, three meters apart. The door of the torture chamber slid open as a menacing Kaleesh- decked out in tribal coverings, and sported a beige cape, torn and tattered, most likely from the skin of a predator on Kalee, as per Kaleesh usual- walked into the room holding a sharpened spear. He bore a tribal mask, with a red tribal painting over the left eye, and black hair stemming from both sides. He gazed through the chamber, cackling to himself, and then stepped up to the two smugglers. 

“Ah, my two fearless, albeit very naïve, smugglers,” The Kaleesh warlord spoke in a deep, venomous tone.

He grazed his sharp nails against Jules’ chin, much to Jules’ chagrin.

“Get your filthy hands off my partner,” Dyson said antagonistically, “you damned dirty Kaleesh.”

The warlord chortled, “Yes, Keiji Dyson is it? The captain of the wrecked Moon’s Fury. Your one mistake was not informing the Star Destroyers of your identity, which confused me. You were born on Aargau, why didn’t you handle things with more precision?”

“You think they’d let a known smuggling ship pass without raiding my goods?” Dyson offered.

“Ah, maybe you are smart. Then again, you are left without any goods, without any ship. In other words, you are left without the precious artifacts you stole from me and that does not bode well for you.”

The warlord, Huk jah Namorous, waltzed across the room to the Amani.

“Zaxis Oombozi, I’m sure you are surprised to be in the situation you are currently in.”

The Amani, Zaxis, grunted, “You alien slime! You set me up.”

“In a way, yes. You are the best money can by, Zax, you can sniff any putrid thing out. However, I simply would not pay as much as you asked, so instead, I hired you to track down our smugglers positions, report back in, and voila. I know where they are, and I don’t depart with any credits. Ingenious, is it not?”

Zax grunted once again, “I’ll kill you.”

“And how do you purpose that will come to pass?” Huk asked.

“With my hands around your neck.”

Huk cackled, “Humorous indeed, my tall, savage friend.”

The Kaleesh warlord moved in front of Paka and the indisposed Phineus Gage.

“Paka, my dear, a sad sight it is to see you tied up like that, my apologies,” Huk bowed.

Paka’s lekkus reddened with rage, “You Chuff sucking leech!”

“Easy,” Huk stated. “Is this the man of the hour? Phineus Gageus himself?”

Paka’s eyes grew sharp and fierce, “I won’t let you get away with this!”

Huk took a step began and addressed all five prisoners, “You all are quick to threaten, yet who here is strapped to the grip holds? Who here is in charge of this ship, and who here has the weapons?” He waltzed to the door, and as it lifted open he turned back and spat on the ground, “I do hope the rancor takes his time with you, all of you.”

The door lifted, and he walked out, his cape blowing close behind. The four conscience prisoners all shared gazes at each other. Some where angry, as was the case with Dyson and Zaxis. Some where of acknowledgement, as was Zaxis and Paka.

“That scum hire you too?” Zaxis asked Paka.

“We do unfortunate business together, and I’m quickly regretting it,” the blue Twi’lek replied.

Julius leaned as much as he could to Dice and whispered, “They got a rancor, how the kriff are we getting outta this one?”

Dice looked up at the stun-ties placed around their wrists, noting that escaping from them was a practical unfeasibility. “It won’t be easy,” Dice whispered back. “I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

The chamber was one hundred meters wide and fifty meters long. The only dim source of light came from the overhead bulbs, barely brightening the entire chamber.  In the center of the chamber was a square outline in yellow painted dura-steel. The foundation began to lower with a loud chugging, and when the platform rose back up to its normal position, it was now standing ground for the rancor.

“I’ve got one bad feeling about this,” Paka stated, struggling against her stun-cuffs.

The rancor growled loudly, the sound reverberated off the dura-steel walls, shaking the chamber, and awaking Phineus. His eyes popped widely open at the sight of the growling rancor and the quick realization of the pain in his arms right before they began to go numb.

“Did I miss something?” Phineus asked quizzically.

Dyson glanced over to the newly awakened prisoner, “Easy, kid, we’re in a bit of a situation here, as you can clearly see.”

“Um, have we thought up a plan about getting the frak out of here?” Phin asked in desperation.

Paka shook her head, “Not at the moment, though I hope someone can think of something.”

Zaxis let out an exasperated scream as he landed to the floor. He had used his Amani strength to rip free from the stun-cuffs, albeit causing him much pain. The rancor headed in Zaxis’ direction, snarling and dripping phlegm from the corners of its mouth.

“Trying to get yourself eaten?” Pakka exclaimed.

Zaxis withdrew one of his sharpened wooden staffs from his pack pouch. The rancor opened its mouth wide as it let out another growl; its teeth were sharp and vicious. Zaxis took the second of opportunity to stab the rancor’s belly with his staff. The rancor’s skin was too tough, breaking the staff and its point.

“That didn’t work,” Phin said.

“Got another plan?” Zaxis asked, paying more attention to the rancor than to Phineus’ statement.

Dyson looked down at his hip and noticed that his weapon wasn’t discarded. The Kaleesh warlord either forgot, or more likely, was too cocky and arrogant to think they’d be able to escape.

“My blaster!” Dyson shouted to Zaxis.

As the rancor drew within meters of the Amani, Zaxis took the opportunity to dive away from its jabbing jaw. He rolled end over end to reach Dyson and withdrew his DL-44 blaster from his hip holster, and aimed it at the rancor’s head. The rancor turned back around and darted for Zaxis, mouth wide open. Zaxis took the opportunity and fired fifteen squeezes of the trigger into its mouth. The rancor began to choke its own blood and crashed hard onto its knees. Zaxis shot five more laser bolts into the rancor’s hide as it fell flat on its face in death. Zaxis stood from his knees, wiped the cold sweat from his sunken eyes, and turned toward Dyson.

“You’re going to fulfill your contract now?” Dyson asked skeptically. 

“You kidding? Huk wanted me dead as well, you were a job, nothing personal. Huk is personal, and we all have our own reasons to kill him. All I ask is that I get his neck.” Zaxis said with fire in his eyes.

“It’s a deal, just get us down from here.”

Zaxis un-cuffed the other four prisoners and walked to the center of the dura-steel floor.

“Where do we go from here?” Paka asked.

Jules offered his idea, “Man, I know this type of ship like the back of my hand. All we gotta do is get to the operations deck, take out anyone up there, and take command of the ship.”

“We don’t want to take over this entire ship,” Dice pointed out, “we’d be cut down quicker than you can say kriff.”

Phineus interjected, “But any escape pods or starfighters in the hangar bay would be shot out of the sky the moment we fired them up.”

“So what do you suppose we do, kid?” Dyson asked with a bit of an unnerved attitude.

“Well, I think if we can manage to make it to the command deck, we should be able to lock every thing down, it will give us some time to set up a vantage point.”

Dyson laughed at the thought, “A vantage point to do what? To try and take out an entire capital ship crew? There must be at least three hundred, four hundred crazy Kaleesh.”

Zaxis shook his head, “Kaleesh don’t travel in numbers that big. There’s most likely a small clan of twenty, thirty most.”

Paka scoffed, “Then why have a ship so big for so little?”

Phineus thought deeply about it.

Why would such a small crew operate such a large ship? What would be the point? Firepower?

“It’s not theirs…” Phineus whispered to himself.

“What?” Jules asked.

“Julius, you said you know this ship?”

“Well yeah, recognized the model when we were shuttled aboard. An MC-30, classic Mon Calamari star cruiser.”

“Exactly. Why would a clan of Kaleesh cruise around in a Mon Cal ship?”

Dyson through in his opinion, “You can buy one of these, you know, not that hard.”

“But would it make sense for the prideful people of Kalee buy a Mon Cal ship? They would prefer something less species oriented; something to showcase their beliefs. Otherwise, it doesn’t add up.”

The light began to brighten in the room as Phin’s words began to make sense.

Dyson, however, was still incredulous, “And how do you propose we go about our way to the command deck?”

“Don’t we all have blasters?” Phineus asked with a grin.

“Kid, you’ve got a lot to learn about fighting an entire clan of crazed Kaleesh’s.”

Dyson continued to add on to the already have load of discontent for the young nineteen year old. The tension between the two was palpable, but Phineus seemed unaffected by it.

“Then what do you propose? Let’s hear your genius plan. As far as I know, you have nothing.” Phineus through his words out sternly.

Dyson seemed to gain a small ounce of respect for the kid, “Alright, kid, we’ll do things your way. But you’re in charge; from this point on, what we do is all your call.”

“Good,” Phineus said with a smirk, “wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The five moved over to the chamber’s lone door which happened to be security locked. Dyson reached his hand out to Zaxis, whom returned Dice’s blasted and withdrew another one of his sharp spears. Dyson took aim and fired at the control panel, which let out an amazement of electrical sparks. The door raised two inches from the ground and came to a stop. Zaxis crouched by the door and raised it up inch by inch with all his strength until it finally was high enough for them to exit out of.

The MC-30c cruiser was dead, a total lack of life. The entire clan of Kaleesh were most likely up on the command deck, but what bothered Phin was the lack of Mon Cal aboard. The Kaleesh somehow hijacked the ship, and Phineus felt that many a life was lost during the process. The Mon Cal were an amazing species, but fighting up close was not their strong suit. Unfortunately, it was for the Kaleesh.

“There,” Phineus pointed towards an elevator. “We ride the elevator to the command deck, take it over, seal it off, and voila.”

“Voila?” Dyson snorted.

“Yeah, voila, simple. Now c’mon, they’ll be sending someone to check up on us soon enough.”

The party of five entered into the elevator and hit the button for the command deck. Nothing happened.

“What a piece of junk,” Jules pointed out. “Blasted elevators don’t even work.”

“They’re password protected,” Dyson nodded toward the elevator’s control panel.

“So we’re stuck on this floor? Aw, dayum,” Jules complained.

“Well, there’s more than one way out of here,” Phineus claimed as he opened up a comm channel with his T3 droid. Upon being captured and brought onboard, little TK was taken to the droid pit, where he would be cut down and sold for scraps. “TK, you still alive little guy?”

On the other end of the comm, Phineus heard the weary beeps and whistles of the very much alive, yet even more scared, T3-K1 utility droid.

“Good to hear your chimes, TK. Look, I have a mission for you, are you up to it?”

TK whistled elatedly.

Phineus chuckled, “I’m not surprised. I need you to break out of that pit and make your way to a computer terminal, or find some still working droid wandering about and download the key codes for elevator 6-1-4. Get back to me as soon as you have them.”

TK chimed in affirmation.

“So what now?” Jules asked.

“We wait. TK will be along any moment with those codes, and then we’ll be on our way,” Phineus replied.

“And what if he gets blasted, or can’t find the codes?” Paka asked.

“Well, in that case, we’ll have to take our chances up in the shafts,” Phineus drew some tired faces. “No one ever said escaping would be easy.”

“No,” Dyson admitted, “but you did say it would be simple.”

-Droid Pit-

T3-K1, or TK as his master referred to him as, began to wheel out of the droid pit. The pit itself was mainly a small room filled to the brim with malfunctioning droids, or those that needed severe repairs to continue to operate correctly.

Luckily TK was shoved in the front of the pile, and splicing into the control panel on the door was as easy a task as any. The door rose open with a hiss, and TK slowly wheeled out of the pit, his scanners searching the proximity as to make sure no enemies were present. Once his scanners read that everything was clear, TK appropriately exited the pit, and headed for the computer terminal nearly twenty yards to the left of his current location.

As he drew closer to the terminal, TK’s scanners picked up something directly behind him. He rotated his cheese-wheel head and noticed a Kaleesh extending his arms. TK extended his own firearms, his electro-zapper, and threatened the Kaleesh.

“You dare threaten me? Zurr el Himedi? Foolish droid, back to the pit with you,” the Kaleesh made the mistake of saying.

TK immediately commenced shocking the Kaleesh, whom began to yelp in pain. TK, with his shoulder mounted mini-flamethrower, began to simultaneously spit balls of fire towards him. The Kaleesh began to turn and run, not being armed with any blasters himself, and his screams of pain and agony grew louder. TK let out his laugh, which sounded like his joyful whooing was broken up in pieces. He continued on his path to the terminal as loud glaring alarms began to squeal. He sounded a worried “whoo” and spliced into the terminal, disabling the old codes for the elevator, and inputted some of his own.

-Back at the elevator-

The uncomfortable silence that inundated the compact elevator was unnerving and palpable. Comm chatter from TK luckily broke the silence.

“Nice work TK, we’re ascending now,” Phineus said as he thumbed the button for the command deck. “You changed the codes as well? Excellent job, TK.” Phineus lowered the comm unit and whispered to Dyson, “See, he pulled through after all.” He replaced the comm back up to his mouth, “Now work your way to the command deck, according to the elevator schematics here, there should be one directly behind you. I’ll see you soon, buddy.”

Phineus closed the channel, tucked the unit back into one of the pockets of his Mustafarian garb, and withdrew his blaster.

“They’re most likely only be equipped with spears and other such close combat weaponry; if we keep our distance, this should be quite easy,” Phineus planned.

Jules interjected, “Nah man, the command decks are pretty undersized. We won’t have enough distance between us for that.”

Zax smiled at the corners of his wide mouth, “So we over power them?”

Paka shook her head, “I don’t think we can, they’re Kaleesh. Deadly in even small numbers; Jules, how many do you think will be on the command deck?”

“’Bout ten, at the most, like I said the deck is pretty undersized,” Jules answered.

The command deck was merely four floors up, and the elevator ascended quickly, “Hope someone has a plan,” Phineus muttered, “Time’s running out.”

Dyson let out an irritated sigh, “Into the shaft we go, gives us a boost, Zax.”

The elevator dinged with an alert that they had reached their wanted destination. As the doors split open, the command deck was revealed. As Jules noted, it was certainly undersized for such a large ship. It featured a sunken leveled style, with each of the three levels being lower than the last. At the right of each level were three seats each for pilots, the gunners and readout personnel took to the left, with three seats per level as well. The seats were positioned accordingly; one facing toward its respective side on the level, two others facing ahead at the view port. All of them had computer terminals in front of them, glimmering with readouts of various craft in their proximity, coordinates for their current and ultimate location, and information on each craft around them, the system they were in, and multiple readouts regarding the ship itself. To each level, on each side, sat one Kaleesh, with the Kaleesh warlord and his second in command standing at the view port, making for a total of eight Kaleesh. Kaleesh were warriors, not pilots- giving a clue as to why the ship bucked and vibrated during turns- which made it even more questioning as to how and why they took over the Mon Cal ship. 

When the elevator pinged, the entire staff turned their heads back towards it, cocking their heads in suspicion once they noted no one was inside. Huk, the warlord, turned his entire body around, completely facing the elevator, narrowing his brow behind his mask.

“Check it,” he ordered, staring straight ahead.

His second in command readied his spear and stepped up the levels towards the elevator. He stepped up to the highest and final level, standing approximately three meters from the elevator doors. The blasts came so quickly, the Kaleesh could do nothing to prevent from being charred with holes. Dyson had lowered the upper half of his body down from the shaft, and used his dual DL-44’s to blow scorching holes through his target. He the then aimed and fired for the two Kaleesh sitting at the first level.

The other four Kaleesh at the next two levels jumped to their feet as the warlord ducked behind a terminal. Dyson muscled himself back into the shaft completely, repositioned his body, and then dropped into the elevator. He took a step out and aimed the DL’s to each side of the second level.

“Surrender now or all your lives belong to us,” he said unsympathetically.

“Lord Huk,” one of the other Kaleesh on the third level cried out, “shall we surrender?” He asked as the others hopped down the elevator, each holding a blaster and having a spear from Zax strapped to their backs, looking as menacingly as they could. “He has warriors.”

“My dear Ka’tiq, warriors are our speciality,” Huk reassured.

The stakes were an even five on five, though the blasters that Phineus and others carried were a certain advantage. However, if they weren’t careful, a stray shot could severely damage one of the terminals, making flying the ship increasingly difficult.

“They won’t dare chance another shot, they’ll have to fight us up close and personal,” Huk scoffed. “And that, my fellow clan, is a battle they cannot win.”

The team strapped away their blasters and equipped their spears, each of them at least a half meter taller than them.

“Your move,” Phineus challenged.

The five remaining Kaleesh readied themselves as Phineus’ team marched down the first level. Paka took to the Kaleesh on the left, Jules to the right, of the second level. On the third, Zax took to his left, Dyson to the right, leaving Phineus to duel with the frightening warlord.

“You fool,” the Kaleesh warlord began, “you surely realize you are doomed. I will slice through your pale flesh, and my men will annihilate yours quite easily. We are born for this, my dear Gageus, and bread to be the ultimate warriors.”

Behind him, Phineus heard the grunts of pain and strain coming from those of his teammates and their respective enemies.

“You underestimate me, Huk. I’m afraid you are taking my age into too much consideration, I assure you this won’t be easy on you,” Phineus replied with a sneer.

“I doubt it. Age has nothing to do with my assumptions, your arrogance does however.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind fighting me.”

Huk readied his staff, “It will be your last.”

“We will see,” Phineus said smirking, bringing his spear up in a defensive position.

Dyson and Zax had made easy work of their Kaleesh enemies; Jules and Paka had a harder time. Both Jules and Paka had minor cuts along their arms and torsos, but nothing life threatening. Jules defended himself against an onslaught of punches and kicks. His Kaleesh through his staff high over his head and swung it down with a speed Jules had never seen. Unfortunately, for the Kaleesh, Jules was still fast enough to somersault backward away from the strike, and Dyson had leapt over his smuggling partner, his spear pointed forward, and slice the Kaleesh’s head clear off. The blood trickled down its neck, dripping down onto the floor boards creating a red puddle.

For a girl, Paka impressed the others. She moved with grace and agility, looking as though she glided on the warm, stuffy air. Her spear met with her Kaleesh’s staff with every strike though she appeared to be overpowered, and grew tired. As her staff met with the Kaleesh’s, he pulled her in close and sneered through his tribal helm.

“My dear worm head, did you even expect the betrayal?” He asked in a hounding tone.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a fool, Lepik.”

As her words retreated from her mouth, she pushed him back away with her remaining strength, rolled beneath his legs, and delivered the sharp spear into his groin. His screams of pain tempered throughout the command deck. Dyson, Zax, and Jules all seemed to wince in unison as the Kaleesh’s pain was more than palpable for them.

Phineus’ spear connected with Huk’s with each offensive blow. Phineus spun the spear in his hands as he turned three-hundred-sixty degrees around, bringing the tip of the spear right at Huk’s neck, but merely scratching it. Huk swung his spear at Phin’s stomach, gashing it open.

Huk chuckled as Phin clutched at his stomach, the blood seeping through his hand, “You pale skins never do understand just how powerful we are. It is a mistake you will not make again.”

Huk brought the sharp tip of his staff to Phin’s neck, “Goodbye fool.”

“Not so fast!” Dyson yelled out, marching down behind Phineus, blaster aimed between the Kaleesh’s eyes.

“What’s the matter? Afraid to let this mere, undeserving, lower-class filth fight his own battles?” Huk’s anger flooded the deck.

Dyson was always serious, but this time, he took offense, “I’d put that weapon down if I were you, Huk.”

Huk cackled, “You may be right. Killing him won’t be anymore satisfactory than killing his bugslut mother…”

Beneath the pain, beneath the blood, beneath the tears, Phineus managed to look up at the Kaleesh, “What did you say?”

“That’s right; I was there with your father. We both took our turns with her, if you will.”

Hatred channeled through Phin’s blood shot eyes. Before Phin could even think, his spear- which had fallen from his hand- was being gripped tightly as he brought it up through the Kaleesh warlord’s stomach, protruding out from his spine. The growls of agony rippled throughout the room as Phineus un-holstered his blaster, stood, and took aim at Huk’s head.

“Now who’s the bugslut?”

Phineus pulled the trigger, once… twice… a third time, sending blood and brain scattering across the viewport. Phineus’ blaster dropped from his loosening grip as his eyes began to flicker.

“Get him to the medbay!” Paka screamed.

“No, we barely were able to take these Kaleesh out. Twenty more are out there, at least,” Dyson proclaimed. “It isn’t fatal, but we need to get off this ship.”

Dyson and Jules took a seat at two pilot chairs; Jules yelled from across the way, “You know how to fly this thing?”

Dyson replied sarcastically, “Don’t think we’ve got any other choice.”

A muffled, audible droid chatter came from inside the elevator, and as the doors opened, TK wheeled out.

“How’d his droid survive the scrap heap? Paka snickered.

TK beeped and whistled proudly.

“He says he’s taken care of the Kaleesh, got ‘em in the droid pit… as he calls them, ‘bastards.’” Jules translated.

“How the…” Dyson’s jaw dropped.

“Said there’s a Jeragium-class in the hangar bay, perfectly flyable. Hot dayum, this droid is good.”

“We can sure fly that, Zax, help carry Phin; Paka, set this ship on a hyperspace lane heading towards Dac, time it to take off in ten standard minutes. Once it arrives, have the beacon read, ‘We’ve returned to enslave you all, courtesy the Kaleesh Clan of Huk.’”

“Too bad we won’t be around to watch that one,” Paka admitted. “It’s set and ready.”

“Good,” Dice replied, “Now let’s get off this blasted ship before we end up somewhere we don’t want to be.”

TK whooed in sadness once he saw his unconscious best friend.

“Oh, it’ll be alright little fella,” Jules patted TK’s head, “he’s a strong dude.”

TK whistled in reassurance.

-Later, aboard the Jeragium-class transport-

Phineus grunted as Paka wrapped the bandages around his stomach, wincing from the pain and the visual of his cut up torso.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Paka joked.

“Hey, until you get your stomach sliced open, don’t complain,” Phineus said with the small smile he managed to shine through.

“You know, I never expected you to be rich and tough.”

“I’m a rare breed.”

Paka chuckled, “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Only things that matter,” Phineus let out a loud grunt, “Easy!”

“Sorry, maybe you aren’t so tough after all, eh?”

Phineus smiled again as Paka helped him into his tracker vest made from Bantha-hide.

“Where’d Dyson set our course to?” He asked.

Upon seizing the freighter, Dyson and Jules took the helm.

“Cato Neimodia,” Paka said a bit unnerved. “You have a meeting.”

“With?” Phineus asked.

“Ochi Noth-Onasi, you have a fortune to take back.”

My fortune.

____________________________________

Words- 8,000

OOC:

Part 2

-Aargau-

The smoke rose kilometers high and could be seen for miles upon miles away. The survivors from the explosion were few, and the death toll was upwards of two hundred. The Aargau policing task force had questioned every witness, and every single person with a mile radius of Daza’s. After the task force detectives had wrapped up their interrogation with two Ithorian diners, human detective Jon Suul and his bith partner, Daskar Sholess begin their questioning of a B-1 battled droid, and his Muun master.

“I thank you for allowing us this time, gentlemen,” Detective Suul began. “We’ll try to wrap this up as quickly as possible so we don’t hold you long.”

Mustafa bowed, “It is my pleasure to assist you, and I assure you my protector droid will answer all questions you have for him too.”

Suul bowed in return, “I’m sure he will, he is a droid after all. Did either of you two see anything odd prior to the explosion? Any suspicious persons, any out of place objects, a brief case under a table or such?”

“As a matter of fact we did. The table on the opposite side of the room was being sat at by a female Twi’lek, she had listening devices wired beneath her table,” Mustafa replied.

“Was this Twi’lek the blue kind, red kind, pale kind?” Suul inquired.

“Blue,” Mustafa replied.

“Wait a second,” the Bith detective Sholess interjected, “how did you know she had listening devices beneath her table?”

Mustafa answered back, “My trusty guard droid’s scanners picked it up moments before the explosion.”

“Very well,” Sholess stated.

Suul took back over, “Were you dining with anyone this evening, mister Mustafa?”

“No, just my good droid here.”

“What happened to you once the explosion hit?” Sholess asked, his Bith mouth flaps squirming.

“What do you mean?” Mustafa asked.

“What I mean is your table was closest to the bomb, yet you two survived while almost all others did not. Seems more than suspicious to me,” Sholess delivered his words rapidly, making every syllable carry as much weight as it could.

“Are you accusing me, Detective Sholess?” Mustafa asked.

“Guilty conscience, mister Mustafa?” Sholess fired back.

B-1 cut in between the palpable tension, “My master and I managed to hide behind our dining table, and the rubble which fell atop us shielded us from the blast.”

“You hid behind your dining table? How’d you have time to flip it?” Suul’s asked.

“My danger sensors indicated the bomb approximately three seconds prior to the explosion,” B-1 replied. “I managed to flip our table and pull my master down behind it.”

“So I see,” Suul replied. “Look, if there’s any information you have, anything at all, please, give me a call,” Suul handed Mustafa his communication card and bowed once more.

Sholess, however, did not leave his goodbyes as kindly, “I have a bad feeling about all this, mister Mustafa. I don’t like the idea of you and your droid here being two of the four people whom survived, whilst you two were right near the blast. I’m going to find whatever dirt you have beneath your fingernails and I will expose it, exploit it, and do whatever is in my power to crack this case.”

Mustafa met Sholess’ glare, “My kind do not have fingernails, Bith, you will find nothing.”

“Come, Detective Sholess, we have tons more investigating to do before we head back to the precinct,” Suul stated. “Excuse my partner, milord, we’re both a bit agitated from all the questioning we’ve had to do, you understand.”

Mustafa bowed in the direction of Detective Suul, “Good day, Detective.”

The two security officers entered their police speeder and flew off into the deep purple Aargau night. Mustafa and B-1 began to walk casually back to the Bank of Aargau.

“Master,” B-1 began, “do you think they are on to you?”

Mustafa shook his head, “I doubt that, they won’t find anything on me either way.”

“What now? Phineus is in danger, milord,” B-1 stated.

“Calm yourself, Dillis, Phineus’ destiny is not to end at this time. He can protect himself, and his comrades will keep a keen eye over him as well,” Mustafa spoke his slushy words. “But I do sense Master Gage is in danger, in more ways than we know.”

-Space, above Cato Neimodia-

The cockpit of the Jermagium-class ship, now known as the Validus, was quite spacious. Phineus had never seen such a ship; it’s black hull appeared menacing and slick, it’s controls handled like a starfighter, and the luxurious rooms- from the private quarters to the dining area- were ever so unique. The ID signature the original Mon Cal owners had given the ship were wiped clean by the Kaleesh, something that the Validus’ pilot, Keiji Dyson, had no problem with.

“Basically, what that means is that no one will be able to identify us, so the ship won’t registered as stolen,” Dyson explained to Phineus whom took his seat in the navigation seat behind Dyson and his trusty co-pilot, Jules. “Unfortunately there is a downside to that however. If any local authorities or some nearby Star Destroyer sees that we’re an unidentified space craft, they won’t give us much time to explain before they space us.”

Jules chuckled, “I wouldn’t worry too much, Phin, Dice and I have done this before. We just gotta get new ID coding for the vessel.”
“And how will we do that?” Phineus said as he fingered through the astrogation charts from nearby systems.

Dyson replied to Phin’s query as he attempted to open up a comm link with the Cato Neimodia docking bay channel, “Jules has made countless ID codes for the Moon’s Fury; he’s quite good at it."

“Once we land and you go off to run your errands,” Julius began, “I’ll make one for us.”

The comm channel opened up, “This is Raan Semoh of the Cato Neimodia docking station, V-sector nine-alpha.”

“Raan Semoh, this is Keiji Dyson of the Jeragium-class freighter that has entered above your atmosphere, requesting permission to dock.”

“On what grounds?” The dock station chief asked.

“Phineus Gage, the man in charge of this craft, has an appointment with Ochi Noth-Onasi, we’re expected,” Dyson replied.

Phineus raised his brow in surprise as he heard Dyson announce that he was the one in charge of their vessel.

What did I do to become in charge? Phineus mused; I’m no leader, why did they appoint me as such?

“Sure,” Raan rebutted, “my loggings confirm your statement, please dock your vessel in berth fifteen, hanger one.”

“Will do,” Dyson said as he closed the comm link.

Dyson nudged the nose of the freighter downward as it sped towards the home planet of Neimodians.

“You have any clue what you’re going to say to this guy?” Dyson asked.

“No,” Phineus said, chuckling. “But he’s a friend of my family, I’m sure we’ll get to play catch up.”

Dyson cackled back, as the Validus crept through the atmosphere and the hangar bay came into far view. “Well, we’ll keep this operational until you return. Got your comm link handy?”

“Yeah,” Phin replied.

“Good, I don’t you to go anywhere without that thing, keep in full contact, check in every ten minutes,” Dyson commanded as if Phineus was his son, which made Phineus feel even safer.

“I will, Dice, thanks.”

The Validus touched down on the docking pad and berthed with the bay’s fuel pumps, “Let’s do a gear check.”

Dyson checked Phineus small pack that clung tightly on his shoulders, behind his back. Inside it held Phin’s Koroushi personal data-pad, two standard plasma grenades, his Mustafarian blaster pistol, and finally, his set of binoculars. His comm link rested tightly secured in his utility belt, and his quarterstaff hung at his right hip.

“Let’s do it, Zax,” Phineus said with a nod to his Amani bodyguard.
The dry, sticky air ran up Phineus’ nose, the scent was rich and stingy, as if they entire planet’s population bore just a bit too much after shave scent. The air was heavy, making Phineus adjust to deepening his normal breath pace. The docking bay was huge; their particular landing pad could fit at least three starships. The walls were colored a bright yellow, a maroon red, and a green-gray pattern. Everything was elegant, no doubt showing off the rich Neimodian culture, and they didn’t spare a credit.

Phineus and Zaxis stood out like a sore lekku among the hangar bay’s primary host of Neimodians and protocol droids. The near nine foot Amani- standing as tall as he could, trying to display his strength- the scraggly bearded human whom possessed more hair on his face than the entire planet’s occupants had combined. However, the Neimodian dock worker didn’t look at all bewildered at the two.

“Ah, Master Gage I presume?” The dock worker asked.

Phineus bowed, “That’s me.”

“Welcome to Cato Neimodia, I do hope you enjoy your stay. Your one-hundred credit docking fee has already been paid by Sir Noth-Onasi, and he has prepared a shuttle for you in hangar thirteen,” the dock greeter announced.

“Has he?” Phineus asked. “That was very gracious of him.”

“Sir Noth-Onasi is one of our most kind, most respected members of our planet, he is very well liked here.”

“As he is within my family,” Phineus claimed. “I have heard many great things about Sir Noth-Onasi. I’ve been lead to believe that he may have hailed from an honored Republic war hero.”

The greeted nodded, “So the rumors state, though we all know how rumors are.”

“That I do. Is there anything that needs to be done prior to my departure? I would hate to be late for my appointment.”

“That is understood and most honorable of you, milord,” the greeter rebutted. “You may leave as you wish; I assure you that your starship will be well protected here.”

Phineus and the dock worker exchanged bows, Zax merely stood tall and intimidating. As the Neimodian greeter turned and walked away, Zax leaned his long neck down to Phin’s ear.

“I don’t like this,” he said plainly.

Phineus grinned, “You’re joking, right? This has to be nicest place I’ve been to… ever.”

“I’m still keeping my eyes wide open,” Zax began, “not every thing is black and white.”

“Yeah,” Phin agreed, “I know what you mean.”

-Later, the manor of Ochi Noth-Onasi-

The short shuttle ride was nice and smooth across the bridge world’s gray terrain. The world was surprisingly inelegant compared to the richness of the Neimodian people. Noth-Onasi’s house however, was the most elegant home Phineus had ever seen. Noth-Onasi must have paid the highest amount for the most talented architect, must have paid for the most glamorous décor, and must have spent the highest amount of credits for all the most well-designed, chic furnishings the galaxy had to offer. Phineus could tell that Noth-Onasi had furnishings imported from Coruscant and most likely other extremely affluent planets as well.  Phineus was impressed at the opulence of Noth-Onasi, maybe he even respected it, but he certainly wasn’t taken aback by any of it. Phineus wasn’t one for extreme suave in furnishings; he himself enjoyed the simplicities of true, pure, natural beauty of things.
Ochi Noth-Onasi, himself, took just as stylish an approach to his well-dressed clothe as he did his home. His green robe was stitched with the finest of gold cloth, stylishly flowing through the green fabric like a marvelous fish within a green, sparkling pond beneath the Onderon sun. Noth-Onasi spread his arms wide open in an embrace that clasped at Phin’s body. It was a warm, honest, and welcoming hug from someone Phineus had just met, though knew for his entire life at the same time.

“Master Gage!” Noth-Onasi exclaimed in joy as he clenched his long arms around Phin. “It has been far too long, my nephew.”

“Hello, Master Noth-Onasi,” Phineus greeted.

“No, no. To you, I am Ochi! Uncle Ochi!” Noth-Onasi’s excitement was palpable to say the least. “I am so happy to see you, knowing that you have survived this long is true warmth to my heart.”

“It certainly took a lot of effort,” Phineus admitted. “There’s just so much confusion in this galaxy.”

Ochi nodded, “I can certainly concur with that, young Phineus. I imagine you are here for your fortune?”

“Yes,” Phineus stated, “and no. What matters more to me is answers, if you have them. Details that everyone has decided to leave out of their stories, making my mind crumble beneath the weight.”

Phineus didn’t know why, but he had a feeling of comfort that he hadn’t felt since he was last with his mother. It was as if Ochi was the first real person he had met since his mother passed. He felt as though Ochi could be trusted, as if he could find some security in him.

The last person that made me feel this way gave her life for mine, Phin mused.

“I understand things may be very confusing for you, my young nephew,” Ochi iterated. “There are few matters to which I can support the details you seek, but I’m afraid there are others to which you must discover for yourself.” Ochi extended his arm to motion for Phineus to take a seat on one of the many bantha leather couches, and then sat down next to Phineus. “So, my young friend, what are you interested in?”

-Back aboard the Validus-

“How’s it look?” Dice asked to Jules.

The two partners where ever so curious as to who owned this ship prior to the evil Kaleesh taking it over, to see if it were at all possible to trace it to any surviving Mon Cal.

“Not much man,” Jules replied, looking down at his data-pad. “The Kaleesh really did their best to wipe out all the info; and what wasn’t destroyed, was corrupted. I have a crew list of about twenty, the captain was a Mon Cal, obviously, who lived on… uh, scent.”

“He lived on Scent?” Dice queried.

“Yeah man, that’s what it says,” Jules replied.

“Let me see,” Dice glanced over at the data-pad.

The two sat at a small round table in the dining area. The room itself was about the size of a small living room of a standard sized apartment, complete with caf dispensers, a fridge full of juma juice and other assorted beverages, and a small cabinet with simple snack foods and rations.

“It’s Coruscant,” Dice corrected. “The captain lived on Coruscant, the rest of the file has been badly corrupted.”

“Oh,” Jules said as he took back the pad, “oh, yeah. Now I see it. Well, the only info on this guy is that he was married to Serra, and was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Dice asked, narrowing his brow, fixating his thoughts on how the file would dictate his recent death.

“Oh, yeah,” Jules said. “He died about a standard week ago back at his home on Coruscant.” Jules examined more of the incomplete file, “Oh, boy.”

“What is it?” Dice asked, knowing he was about to hear something he would rather not.

“Cap,” Jules began, “according to this file, he was the guardian of one Phineus Lucien Gage.”

Dice cocked his head, “Our Phineus Gage?”

Jules nodded, “The bio fits.”

“Does it say how he was murdered?” Dice inquired.

“Um, yep, says his home was attacked by rodian raiders, bounty hunters. He and his wife were killed, but Phineus managed to kill the raiders and escape.

“Does it say who hired the bounty hunters?” Dice asked, trying his scoundrels best to put things together, piece by piece.

“Oh, boy,” Jules shook his head in unbelief. “Laman Leviticus Gageus, Phin’s dad. Reports claim that files were uncovered proving it at Laman’s house on Tatooine. His business factory burned down about three standard days after the killings.”

Dice rubbed his bearded chin, slowly shaking his head, “Anything else?”

“Nah,” Jules replied. “What does this mean, Cap?”

“It means that our guy has a dark past,” Dice responded.

“You think he was the one who burned down the factory?”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about this without him around.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jules admitted.

Julius and Dyson made their way back into the cockpit and took their respective seats next to each other, with only about a half of a meter separating their chairs. Their control board that spanned across the front of their eyes was dimly lit; currently, the only active systems on the Validus were the security measures. Dyson thumbed his way to the security camera feed; it presently displayed sixteen mini-squares of camera views for various sleeping quarters, the hyperdrive slash engine room, the dining lounge, etcetera. Dyson’s eyes scanned through the sixteen feeds, and focused in on the one coming from the present quarters of their Twi’lek friend, Paka. She was sitting up on her bed, sifting through items on what appeared to be her data-pad. Dyson clicked on the image to bring it up to full view screen size.

“What do you make of her?” Dice asked Jules.

“Hot damn, Cap, she’s a hotty,” Jules said all too seriously. “I’d like to have my way with…”

“Thank you, Jules,” Dice said with a smirk.

Jules chuckled back, than realized Dice was thinking something, “What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t it odd that she has so much luggage on board,” Dyson said as he pointed toward the two duffel bags that lay on the ground next to her clothing storage compartment.

“I dunno, Cap, it’s only two bags.”

“As opposed to only a small pack for each of us,” Dice rebutted. “She claimed that she and Phin were attacked at her apartment prior to being brought on board the ship.”

“Yeah?” Jules asked, acting as the plasteel cylinder for Dice to shoot all his ideas into. That was the beauty of their partnership, Dice thought, Jules was there to listen.

“So do you find it logical that the Kaleesh who attacked them would be accommodating enough to allow her to take her precious time to pack her stuff?”

“I wouldn’t think so…” Jules played along.

“So that means those bags would have had to be aboard the Mon Cal vessel before she even got there,” Dyson deliberated.

“And that means that either she stole some random bags, or that she was on that ship before,” Julius considered, giving back to Dice.

“Precisely,” Dice iterated.

“So now what?” Jules asked. “What are you thinkin’, Cap?”

“I’m thinking it’s time to have a chat with little miss beautiful, find out the truth.”

“You gonna need me?” Jules asked.

“Stay up here, but keep an eye on the security feed,” Dice commanded.

“Aye, aye.”

-Meanwhile, manor of Noth-Onasi-

“Well, first off, who exactly are you?” Phineus asked.

“I’m a family friend of the Gageus’,” Ochi replied. “When your grandfather inherited the fortune, he flew to Aargau to transfer it from the bank back home on Hapes for better protection. I happened to be in the final years of my service at the Bank of Aargau, and was working as one of the top banker at the time. Your grandfather, Tithis, was very thorough in looking for the right ‘financial advisor’ for the fortune, one which he had vowed to keep safe for his family. There he met me, and befriended me, and I became the one who looked over the fortune.”

The story didn’t help Phineus much, “But isn’t there far more to the fortune than just credits?”

“There is now, milord,” Ochi corrected. “Back then, it was merely credits. The capital ship and droid army were made for your mother, Kaydee, to which she passed to you for when she died.”

Phineus tried to shake off the feelings that came along with hearing the words of his mother not living anymore. No matter how long it had been, the pain had yet to leave him.

“And she entrusted you with it?” Phineus asked.

Ochi nodded, “Your mother and I had become friends once she married your father, and she entrusted me to watch over the capital sh…”

Phineus pertinently interjected, “You were friends with my mother?”

“Why, of course,” Ochi said. “Phineus, I soon became friends with your entire family, even your more so sadistic father. I immediately took a liking to Kaydee when we met at their wedding, and I am proud to say I became her best friend, as she became mine.”

Phineus was enlightened to the information that Ochi was so close to his mother, “I’d like to hear about her some time.”

“I had planned on that, as soon as we finish up here, I shall include you in all that I have regarding her,” Ochi said graciously.
Phineus ran his hand through his hair, “Ochi, there is something else.”

“Yes?”

“A B-1 droid claimed to be my mother’s protector, and brought to a Muun banker on Aargau. However, I ran into a female Twi’lek who claimed she was my protector and that they were plotting to kill me.”

“Ah, yes,” Ochi began, “you speak of my business partner, Ordelaus Mustafa, my son Dillis, and the Twi’lek known as Paka.”

Phineus narrowed his brow in confusion, “You know of Paka?”

Ochi nodded, “I do, and she is my goddaughter.”

________________________________________________________

Words- 3,556

OOC:

Part 4

-Cato Neimodia-

“Uncle,” Phineus shouted in glee as he ran up to Ochi, “are you all right?”

“I am fine, my good boy,” Ochi replied in excitement to see Phineus made it back in perfect condition. “The bombardment ceased right before you arrived.

The two shared a quick hug, and then Phineus extended his right arm out, “Uncle Ochi, these are my friends; Julius Xerxes, Keiji Dyson, and Paka Tun, as you know.”

Ochi bowed, “My pleasure.” The others returned their bows and Paka exchanged a hug with Ochi. “Come, the threat has retreated, we have time to eat and discuss your further venturing. SD-88 has prepared a meal for us, I’ll have him make some more for your friends.”

“Ah hell yeah, I can eat!” Jules exclaimed with the biggest of smiles on his face, rubbing his stomach.

“What my friend means is, we’d like that,” Dice iterated.

Phineus and the others waltzed behind Ochi on their way to the dining hall when Phineus realized they were minus one member, “Has anyone seen TK?”

-Validus-

T3-K1 wheeled throughout the Validus’s corridors, his tiny motor hummed softly. He wheeled left then right, and finally ended up in his ultimate destination; the sleeping quarters of Paka Tun. TK spliced into the security panel on the right side of the rising door and used his security spikes to hack his way inside the panel’s inner computer and unlock the door; it rose with a swift swoosh.

He wheeled himself inside the room, using his blue optical “eye” to scan for any sources of energy. An emanating heat index came from within one of the drawers from Paka’s night-table next to her bed. TK wheeled over and opened the drawer, and extended his metallic droid grabber and withdrew the data-pad. He began downloading all the unencrypted files stored on the data-pad, and upon reaching one-hundred percent completion, he began to slice the pad to bypass the encryptions and download what he was truly there for. That’s when the problem occurred, the slight, unexpected error. The data-pad began systematically deleting every single file, folder, and detail it had stored within its memory. TK began to whistle and buzz in surprise, shock, and worry. He threw the data-pad down onto the durasteel floor and rolled over it with his heavy frame; once, twice, until every single beeping light on the data-pad ceased to be lit. This wasn’t in his programming, and certainly wasn’t in his mission objectives given to him by Dyson, but TK has been around for nine years and has yet to receive a memory wipe from his beloved creator, Phineus; and when droids, most notably T3 units, went without regular memory wipes for too long, they were known to engage in some odd behavior. From angered disputes turning into all out fights, to even the assembling of T3 unit gangs, they were known to do some incredible things, if incredible was truly the right word was up to the beholders.

The data-pad that was once a square piece of information storing equipment was now reduced to pure scrap, now into a hundred pieces lying on the cold, hard floor. TK extended another appendage from within his blue-silver frame, a dust sweeper and its plasteel shovel companion, and began to sweep up the mess he created.  He hauled the mess of broken data-pad beneath Paka’s bed, and began to casually wheel out of the room, slyly and inconspicuously whistling to himself.

-Ochi’s Manor-

The dining room was large, to say the absolute least. The entire Phantom could fit inside it, with some room to space. The room was enclosed with the norm of four walls, and to each wall belonged a window directly in the center. The window’s each had red silk drapes spun from the most tamed of Shyrooks. A meter to the left and right of each window on each wall hung an artistic painting. All eight paintings were of the most elegant, yet assumed the look of an oddity. They appeared to have been painted by an artist whom possessed the most beautiful of minds, a mind which also may have been taking on a dose or two of the finest spice. They were colorful, complete with attractive hues of purples, blues, yellows, and so on. The rare pieces of art had the tendency to draw the observer deep within an artistic observational trance, that proved to beg- more likely to force- the observer to think deeply about everything, yet nothing at all. The long table, which was the length of a stretched out rancor, was covered with an absolutely stunning, silky red tablecloth. Embroidered in the center of the cloth were the letters ‘N-O’, sewn in with a beautiful golden thread, complete with the most stylish of print. Candle holders were placed every half meter, their candles were a deep purple base, home to white and black lines that appeared to be dancing throughout the wax, and were lit to set the mood with a calming, soothing and radiant scent. Each of the five plates was made of the finest material, hand crafted, and each had an original gem pressed within it. The gems were a charming blue, an engaging viridian, piercing silver, or a romantic red. The entire dining room- table, windows, drapes and all- was of a certain beauty not typically seen too often in this galaxy. In all honesty, Phineus was almost overwhelmed with it all. He wasn’t big on the fancy elegance that the rich seemed to display so gracefully, but it unquestionably caught and intrigued the eye.

At the northern head of the table sat Ochi Noth-Onasi, to his left sat Dice with Jules sitting to Dice’s left. To Ochi’s right sat Phineus with Paka sitting to Phin’s own right side. Everyone except for Phin and Ochi had immediately dug through their meals of bantha steak, complimented by the most exquisite Tarisian ale. Now, this ale wasn’t the true choice draft from the planet Taris- seeing how it was destroyed thousands of years ago by some unknown armada, the data was a bit spotty- however, the recipe had drifted from planet to planet, and some brewery along the Zug system had been able to bring it as close to the famous, classic taste which made it so famous back on its berthing planet. Phineus and Ochi, however, were drawn in close together, and had not ceased their tête-à-tête since they sat down.

“…and that’s when she flew to Mustafar?” Phineus inquired.

Ochi nodded with excitement, “Precisely. She knew the planet’s remote location along the Outer Rim, coinciding with its treacherous environment, would by her some time from Laman. She cared so much about you, Phineus; she loved you with all her heart. She lived for you, she breathed so that you could breathe. And it could be said that the only reason she did not track down and kill Laman herself, was because she had a responsibility to you.”

The words seeped their waAnd it could be said that the only reason she did not track down and kill Laman herself, was because she had a responsibility to you.”

The words seeped their way into Phineus’ skull as his eyes got lost in the picture Ochi had given him. It featured a ten Phineus’ skull as his eyes got lost in the picture Ochi had given him. It featured a ten year old Phineus building his T3 droid, and his beautiful mother kneeling down to help, with the blazing Mustafar night behind them.

“Uncle Ochi?” Phineus asked.

“Yes?” Ochi replied, clearly interested.

“Was I the reason for my mother’s death?”

The words were brutal, yet honest. Phineus was merely a nine-teen year old kid, and Ochi knew he should have expected this.

Ochi’s small mouth dropped in surprise, and he patted Phineus on the shoulder, “No, no. Young one, you were the reason for your mother living as long as she did. Without you, I’m afraid she would have never left your father, and her life would have been much worse. You were a true blessing to Kaydee, and she knew it. She took care of you better than she took care of herself. Phineus, you were the reason your mother lived the life she believed to be great.”

Phineus narrowed his brow and tilted his head towards Ochi, strands of his jet black, glossy hair swiftly fell in front of his left eye, “She believed she had a great life? Wasn’t she living in constant fear that Laman would find her, which she would have to be increasingly cautious as the days passed by?”

Ochi leisurely shook his head, “Phin, you were the reason she loved life. Before you blessed her soul, she was very depressed. Then she had you, and you were the one thing she treasured in this galaxy.” Ochi smiled at a thought, knowing that Phineus would smile once he heard it himself, “Phineus, would you like to see a holodiary she kept? I’m afraid the copy I have has been slightly damaged over the years, but some entries should work.”

Phineus’ face brightened with a youthful and honest excitement- something he rarely felt in his life, “Absolutely.”

The five finished up their dinner, Dice had contacted Zax through the comm and filled him in on all of the details he had missed out on. Zax was more than happy to return to the manor, as Dice found out that Phineus ordered him to the cantina to unravel his troubles in the finest mead available. Zax, the big worrier that he has, did not have a single sip.

The now six of them stood in a small semi-circle around a holoprojecter as Ochi dimmed the lights in his theatre room. The gray-blue static-filled image of a young female, no older than twenty-seven standard years, rose above the projector. She was rather short, standing at a mere five feet. Her hair was long and ended in shiny black curls, her eyes were big and brown, and her structure was petite yet firm. Her beauty would rival that of any noble throughout the galaxy. Kaydee Gage was, as Phineus had always remembered, extremely gorgeous. As she spoke, a swift chill ran down Phineus’ spine and dug into his veins, it being a voice he had not heard in quite some time. Two years to be precise.

“…eus has finally finished repairing that old droid he found, he’s named the little guy “TK.” It is pretty cute for a little droid, and it has taken a strong liking to Phineus.”

A ten year old voice came across from a distance, “Mom, me and TK are gonna go scabbage for treasure.”

A smile that’s beauty and purity matched the one that Phineus was well known for graced Kaydee’s face as she let out a tiny chuckle, “It’s scavenge, sweety. And becareful, don’t stray too far.”

“Ok, mommy, don’t worry. TK will protect me!” His sweet, innocent voice grew farther. A brief affirming whistle from T3-K1 could be heard as the two departed the small hut.

“Sometimes I worry that I’ve raised Phineus wrong. I’ve given him all the love I have in me, and I’ve taught him how to be a good person. But in today’s galaxy, is that enough? I guess I’m just the typical, worrying mom that everyone predicted I would be. But he’s all I have, and all I want. And with me, he’s safe, as I am with him.”

The holoprojector grew static and cut off, and then the figure reappeared.

“…built him to have a friend, and to have someone to watch out for him. Yet oddly enough, Phineus seems to be the one watching out for TK. He rescued him for the tenth time- well, ninth time- while they were out playing, TK wheeled right into a crater and landed on his head.” The sweet, cherished laugh of the young mother both pleased Phineus, and made a tear drop from his eye.

“Oh, they’re so cute together though. I was worried that Phineus would grow to resent me not giving him the proper life of having countless friends to cause trouble with, though he and his droid seem to have plenty of that. I often hear the two of them laughing no matter where they are. They seem to be a good pair; I just hope Phineus doesn’t grow to despise me in his teen years when he realizes his life is not one of normalcy. I was able to get in contact with Parton Gageus, Phineus’ uncle. He informed me that Ochi has been taking considerable care with Phin’s protection. I can only hope that it will be enough for him when I…”

“…ore days until I leave for Kashyyyk. Orton was able to set up transport for me, bless his old soul. He also volunteered to look over Phineus for the three days I’ll be away. I can’t put into words just how much I’ll worry about him, but he’ll be in good hands. And even little TK assured me he’ll look out for him. Once I get to Kashyyyk, I’ll be able to talk with Tu’mecca. He has told me about his son, Thorvald, he’s Phin’s age now yet he’s at least a foot or two taller. I hope to get holopics to show Phin, he’d love to see the Wookies and their amazing forest homes. I must admit, I love how Phin finds more joy in the simplicity and dullness of such things, rather than the elegance and rich decorative fixtures of Hapes or Coruscant…”

“…ack from Kashyyyk, and I’m afraid the news there was most unsettling. Phineus and I will be leaving soon, and I cannot say where for security purposes. This will also be my last holoentry, I’m afraid our position has been found, and I can’t leave any traces any more. Goodbye.”

The holovid ended with a worried expression forming on Kaydee as she stepped behind the recorder to switch the power off. In the background, a joyful, laughing ten year old Phineus ran past, being chased by a cackling TK. Seeing his mother like that, hearing her voice for the first time in too long, brought a waterfall of tears down Phineus’ face. Dyson and Julius hung their heads, feeling the emotion emanating from Phineus, secreting out from within his pores. Paka had stepped over and hugged him, hoping that he would know he had more than just himself in this galaxy.
“Is there anything else?” Phineus asked beneath his tears, beneath the lump of sadness in his throat.

Ochi turned the holoprojector off and handed it to Phineus, “Some. An entry of you and her playing, but I’m afraid that’ll have to be seen later, my young friend. You must move quickly, I’ve held you for too long.”

Phineus replied only in a questioned look as Paka still clung tightly to him.

“I sincerely enjoyed your company, young Phineus. But your enemies must not be far from finding your fortress in the sky. Here,” Ochi propagated a file from his data-pad into Phin’s. “All the information you’ll need to receive your fortune. Hyperspace coordinates to find your capital ship, the account coding for your bank account. Everything.”

Phineus stepped forward to Ochi as Paka let her grip loosen and eventually let go, “I thank you, Uncle Ochi. I can’t tell you how much this has meant to me. I apologize for putting you in danger like this.”

“Now, now, I’ve been expecting this for nine-teen years,” Ochi said, embracing Phineus in a family fueled hug. “Take care of yourself, and be sure to chime in soon.”

“I will,” Phineus said honestly, more tears began to slowly stream out from his tear ducts. “What will you be up to?”

Ochi pulled away from the hug, “I’m afraid I have one last task to carry out, an order from your mother. You’ll understand once you step foot inside your capital ship, your data-pad also has a holorecording that will explain all the loose ends.”

The two shook hands and hugged once more, and then Ochi walked the party of five to the front door. As the others bowed and said their kind goodbyes to Ochi and entered into the Validus, Phineus clasped his uncle for the final time.

“Thank you,” he said in a whisper, his words muffled as his face buried into Ochi’s left shoulder, “for everything.”

“Thank you, Phineus,” Ochi replied, “for giving me a purpose in this life that far exceeds credits.”

Phineus smiled as he bowed goodbye, and as he began to walk off into the twilight distance, Ochi called out to him, “Phineus! I forgot to inform you.”

“Yeah?” Phineus asked as he turned to face Ochi.

“You are a pure blooded Gageus, you may take upon that name if you so wish.”

Phineus glanced of to the right, breathing in the last sights of Cato Neimodia, “No,” he said with a smile. “My mother was stripped to only Gage; I think I’ll keep it that way for me.”

“Good,” Ochi nodded, “I was hopping you’d say that.”

Phineus smiled back and returned to his current path aboard the Validus. Inside the cockpit, Dice and Jules were already firing the cruiser up.

“Where to, kid?” Dice asked.

Phineus thumbed through his data-pad and let Dice and Jules gaze at the coordinates Ochi gave to him.

“Nar Shaddaa, huh?” Jules asked.

“Yeah, scummy, full of no good smugglers. You two should fit right in,” Phineus said sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, just strap yourself in,” Dice replied playfully. “Wouldn’t want our jump to hyperspace to throw you around the cabin.”

Phineus smiled as he sat in the navigator’s seat and buckled in his crash webbing. As the Phantom ascended into the wide open Cato Neimodian sky line, which glistened a yellow-white hue, he finally was able to relax. He was surrounded by actual people he felt he could trust, something he hadn’t felt in far too long a time. He was finally able to breathe. He finally had a family.

-Back at the manor-

Ochi shut the door to his bedroom and palmed on the light. When the bulbs illuminated, he immediately noticed the red-haired man sitting on his bed, slowly clapping in mock approval.

“Good work,” the man spat out. “The whole teary-eyed, touchy family moment was a nice touch,” he said in a slimy tone. “You made Gage very happy,” he stabbed his chest with his finger; “I like that.”

“What more do you want, Jacin?” Ochi demanded angrily.

“Did you give him the Nar Shaddaa coordinates?” Jacin Draalis asked.

“Yes, now if that is all, I demand you to leave at once, you terrible Hutt, you!”

Jacin stood, licking his lips as he shook his head, “Now, now, that tone isn’t very friendly. I only have one last thing for you, Noth-Onasi, and it will only take a second.”

Jacin took out a mini-digital-feed recorder and aimed it at Ochi, “Smile,” Draalis said, “You’re on camera.”

In his right hand, Jacin charged up a DL-44 blaster, and aimed it at Ochi, “Kneel.”

Ochi began to bend his knees, “No!  You said after I did this I’d be free.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jacin said mischievously, “and you are free. Free from this pathetic galaxy. Consider this a favor, as my way of thanking you. This galaxy is so full of greed and corruption, and you my oddly-shaped headed friend, no longer need to suffer in it.”

Jacin pulled the trigger and sent a red strand of heated energy blasting a smoking hole through Ochi’s forehead. He holstered the blaster and thumbed off the digital-feed and carefully stepped over Ochi’s dead body. On the back of the door which stood between him and his exit, hung a meter long mirror. Jacin took a moment to stop and glance at his self. His hair was stringy, and his black roots were beginning to show through his laigrak’s red-eye colored hair. His face was twisted and mangled; the long scar that ran down his left cheek was seemingly trying to jump from off his skin. His jade colored irises were nothing more than a foreground for the wild, bloodshot veins that wrapped around the white in his eyes and mauled them, crippling them. From a distance, one could be fooled into thinking that nothing but a fully red eyeball held the emerald-jade irises in place. His pupils were dilated to an abnormal wideness, and the red-black strands of hair fell to each side of his face. He looked, as always, psychotically menacing. He smoothed out his hair, straightened his shirt out, and left with a wide grin- not out of content for his looks; he truly cared not about himself in such a vain way. Not out of comfort of how well his plan was falling into place, not out of joy or any form of true happiness for anything that had happened. As a matter of fact, there was not a single thing Jacin had in this world, nor a single thing that could be had, that would ever make him feel such joy… not yet at least. Rather, the crooked smile which he bore as he exited from the room was out of sheer lunacy, madness, psychosis; the three traits that best described Jacin Draalis or so all whom have met him have said. What was a true mystery was what he thought about himself, or what he thought about anything for that matter. His mind had never once been opened to anyone; it may have even been locked tightly away from Jacin himself, destroyed and lost forever due to his insanity. There was however, as in most cases, a sense of genius within his utter insanity. The way he could plot and map out so many schemes, underlying  with other nefarious plans, all eventually tied together to form one brilliant, inimitable, intricate, multifarious arrangement that crippled everyone around him… even himself.

As he waltzed out of the bedroom into the focal area, leisurely taking his time, he glimpsed around at all the fine interior decoration to which Ochi crammed his home with. The thought of stealing something- even the most diminutive of décor could have been worth up to a few hundred-thousand credits- never crossed his mind. After all, Jacin Draalis was many things, but a thief certainly was not one of them. He shook his head as he opened the door leading outside of the manor, rolling his eyes.

“One nice treasure,” Jacin muttered to himself, “thanks, dad,” he said in an apathetically mocking tone.

______________________________________________________

Words- 3,776

OOC:

Part 6

-Smugglers Corner-

Man, Julius thought to himself, people sure are strange when you’re a stranger.

Julius had been scouting around the Smugglers Corner of Nar Shaddaa, taking in all the grim sights. He passed shady spice pushers, sabacc players who have taken one too many deathsticks, and many propositioning females of all species. It was truly a dark and gruesome place, one that brought many a memory back into the mind of Julius. He knew he shouldn’t he here, he should be back at the hotel room whipping Zax’s Amani hind-quarters at a game of dejarik, but he couldn’t help but tempt himself perforce. Back at the hotel, not fifteen minutes ago, Jules thought it best to catch some fresh air- as fresh as Nar Shaddaa air could be- with a little peregrination, a little mindless wandering.

His venture led him to the all too perspicuous Smugglers Corner. Deep down, he truly didn’t want to be here, it was no machination of his. But, never-the-less, here he was. In the one place he shouldn’t be. His mind lit up like a nova at the wide selection of ailing attractions. But before Jules could tempt himself further by gambling, or by other such vices, a cold chill ran down his spine. It felt as though someone bad let out a breath on his neck, someone who had spent too much time on Hoth. He turned and came face-to-face with a most disturbing looking man, grinning through his teeth.

-The Hotel-

Phineus felt like an idiot. During their game of pazaak, strip-pazaak, he had lost everything bar his undergarments. He sat there half-naked, as Paka’s face reddened from trying not to laugh too hard as she sat with her entire dress still on. Phineus bit his lip and nodded his head.

“Oh, this is funny to you?” He questioned sarcastically.

“No,” Paka admitted, laughing, “it’s hilarious.”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer, and broke out into full-fledged hysteria, cracking up at Phin’s dispense. All Phineus could do was sit there, humiliated, and laugh himself.

“Yeah, yeah, well this game isn’t over,” said Phineus.

“Then let’s end it quickly,” Paka said.

The first two cards were upright, a combined total of 19 for Phineus- he stood- and 11 for Paka. Phin’s deck had been cleared out by now, and he knew standing would be his best bet. Another card flopped out for Paka, her total now stood at 17. She had one more card in her deck, but had not even thought of using it as of yet. Once more, a card flopped upright, bringing her total to 24. She had all but been defeated for this hand.

“Looks like I finally got you,” Phineus claimed.

All Paka offered back was her signature raised eyebrow and slight smirk as she picked up her remaining card from her deck. She placed it down on the table, a minus-4 card. Phin’s eyes rolled as his jaw dropped ajar, he stood up and placed his hands on both sides of his undergarments.

“I hate you, you know,” Phineus joked.

He began the tug on his undergarments when the door slid open, revealing a very confused and wide-eyed Amani.

“Uh, should I have knocked?” Zax asked.

Phineus reddened as Paka fell back onto the bed, laughing hysterically.

“No, you’re fine. We’re fine, all fine here,” Phineus stumbled as he searched for his pants.

“Uh-huh,” Zax grunted. “Well, if you can put your odd human mating games on hold for a moment, our lady has a message waiting down at the lobby.”

Paka chimed in, “A message?”

Zax nodded, “Data message, they have a terminal in the lobby for you to use.”

Paka shrugged, and then grinned at Phineus, “We’ll pick up where we left off when I get back?”

Phineus chuckled, “You mean when I stage my miraculous comeback?” He asked rhetorically. “Sure thing.”

Paka smiled wider and left the room, heading for the lobby. Zax lingered for a moment, flexing the muscles in his face as best he could to mimic a look used often by humans which signified interest.

“What?” Phineus said half sarcastically.

Zax shrugged, “Nothing, just taking notice of you and our blue female friend.”

“And what have you noticed?” Phin asked.

“You like her,” Zax chuckled a deep chuckle and turned for the door. “Just proceed with caution, women are what you humans call, ‘crazy.’”

“Thank you, Zax,” Phin said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

-Lobby-

Paka had entered into her privacy terminal, one of fifteen lined up in a single file along the outskirt of the far wall of the hotel. It was the size of a holo-booth, completely enclosed, yet its transparisteel windows were heavily tinted so that no ease-droppers from outside could peer inside. Within the privacy booth was a terminal, good for sending and receiving live and non-live holo-feeds, browsing the holo-web, or relay messaging within the entire galaxy, provided another terminal was on the receiving end- simple data-pads were not strong enough to receive the intricate transmissions. And the relay messaging was what Paka was there for.

“Transmitting now, ma’am,” a clear picture of the lobby’s receptionist was in the center view screen, showing as she tapped away on her controls. “Message sent to your terminal, engaging in privacy code zero-zero-zero.”

The code was a complete privacy protocol, meaning that whatever happened within the terminal was not monitored- neither the sound, nor the text was recorded, and there were no security cameras within. It was exactly what its name implied, private.
Paka smiled as the feed of the receptionist thinned out, replaced by text that simply read in a bright red color against a black background.

Sender: Hello, Paka.

Paka’s text background was labeled as ‘receiver,’ and was of standard white color.

Receiver: Checking in on me?

Sender: To put it bluntly, yes.

Receiver: There is no need, I’m fine.

Sender: How is Phineus?

Receiver: Why do you ask?

Sender: What, I can’t find happiness in knowing how well he is?
Receiver: You, my old friend, can never find happiness. I only ask that you trust me.

Sender: Oh, I do. Have you two shared a bed together yet?

Receiver: That is none of your business! If that is all you wish to know…

Sender: Forgive me, I crossed the line. Just check in from time to time, you know how I get.

Receiver: Yes, I do, more than anyone else. Just have faith, everything is fine with me.

Sender: Good, when will I see you again?

Receiver: You shouldn’t.

Sender: And why is that?

Receiver: Things can get complicated, and I hate complicated.

Sender: Aren’t they already?

Receiver: Look, don’t do this. Not now. Things are actually going well.

Sender: Fine, report back to me once you’ve reached checkpoint C.
Receiver: Nothing until then.

Sender: As you wish.

The relay messaging system snapped close and deleted the scripts that it had just passed from one terminal to the other, ensuring the utmost privacy and security. Paka clasped her right hand to her face; the conversation with her former love and drained her. It was difficult for her to even think of him, knowing that she cannot- nor should not- be with him. But still, her feelings for him radiated and pulsated from her mind. She tried her best to shrug it as she exited the privacy booth and returned to the turbolift.

On the other end of the relay message, not as far away as Paka had thought, sat a man in the dark. The only light illuminated from the view screen of his desk’s holo-terminal, to which he had just logged his most recent terminal-to-terminal account. Through the blue hue that was cast on his face, the man smiled malevolently. The comm link on his chair’s right arm rest blinked a steady orange; he gave it a tap with his finger.

“Captain,” a sloshy voice came through the speakers, “we’ve set course for Manaan. We will enter hyperspace on your command.”

“Then the time is now,” the slimy voice of the captain iterated. “Enter hyperspace now.”

“Understood.”

-Hotel-

The cold, piercing water from the sanisteam glistened as it rolled down Phineus’ unclothed body. It was the first chance he had since being on Coruscant to fully cleanse himself, and it felt revitalizing. He leaned up against the wall, letting the water rain down upon his head, his eyes shut, and his mind open. He tried to- once again- make sense of all that had happened. To fully let the events soak in. He thought of his father’s face as he confronted him and the wild emotions that nestled into his mind during their fight. The face of his mother as he saw her once again through the static, and finally, the blue-ridden face of Paka.

The door to the refresher opened, and Phineus further tinted the sanisteam door’s semi-see-through glass doors.

“Hey, there cutie,” the voice belonged to Paka.

“Hi,” Phineus so bravely mustered up.

“I’m just here to prepare for bed,” Paka said as she thumbed on the refresher’s water facade.

“Mmk,” Phin said back.

“So tell me, how’d you like Mustafar?”

Phineus chuckled, “We’re starting off with that?”

“Anything else in mind?” Paka asked.

“Sort of,” Phineus claimed nervously. “Who was the message from?”

“An ex-boyfriend.”

Phineus wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt a strong eruption of jealously fire up within him, and then diminish twice as fast as it arrived. “Ex-boyfriend, eh?”

“Yup,” Paka said as though it didn’t faze her. “Don’t worry; we’re over and done with.”

“Why would I worry?” Phineus asked, trying to mask whatever it was he truly felt.

“Good point,” Paka said through brushing her teeth. “So, Mustafar.”

“Hot place,” Phineus said jokingly, albeit truthfully.

She spat, replaced her oral-cleanser, and partially opened the door to the sanisteam, just enough to eye Phineus. “Ok, mister joker, when a girl asks you a question- twice- you answer. It most likely means she’s showing an interest in you, which in case you don’t know,” she whispered this last bit as if she were giving away a galactic secret, “is a really good thing.”

Phineus was frozen, eyes wide open, barely able to respond, “It’s been awhile.”

Paka didn’t back down from their not-too-competitive staring contest, “So… tell me about where you grew up…”

-Later-

Their conversation- which mainly consisted of Phineus telling stories of his childhood with Paka asking several questions, which Phineus actually found more refreshing than anything- had migrated from the refresher, to the balcony, to the mini-table back inside the room, to now ultimately ending up in Phin’s bed. He laid there, his upper-torso partially raised, leaning against the bed post; Paka lay to his left in a friendly cuddle atop the bedspreads. She showed such an interest in Phineus’ future, such an honest, pure interest in Phineus himself- something that she shared with practically no one. How they ended up so close together, on his bed no less, Phin couldn’t quite remember. Once they came back inside from the balcony, they took a seat at the elevated mini-table barely big enough for a game of pazaak. The chairs waned their comfort levels, and Paka suggested a lay on the bed. If Phineus’ memory served him correct, she inched her way closer with every passing minute- possibly he did too. All in all, it was nice being close to someone again- it had been over two years since his first love, Natalie, had died- and it brought back those familiar feelings of warmth, security, safety, and calm.

“…so after that I ended up on Aargau, where I met you,” Phineus finished.

“Which had to have been the greatest moment of your life, right?” Paka joked.

The two chuckled together, and then Phineus took in a slightly deep breath, “It certainly wasn’t a bad moment.”

Paka, who was just about an entire foot shorter than Phineus, looked up at him, her head resting now atop his chest. She shone an innocent smile; her blue eyes twinkled like perfectly crafted diamonds which had to be cut out from the Alderaan sun itself. Phineus half-smiled back as he took in another breath, trying to convince himself that this was real.

“What are you thinking?” Paka asked as she repositioned her head back down onto his chest.

“Me?”

Paka giggled, “Yes, you. What’s on your mind?”

Phineus thought for a moment, really just stalling to admire his current position, “For the first time in my life, nothing.”

Paka now threw her left arm around his torso, loosely, and her lekkus began to rattle nervously. She took in a breath herself, and repositioned herself atop Phin’s stomach and looked deep into his eyes, burning through his soul, planting herself into his mind. She leaned up and her lips met his, softly, passionately.

“We…” Phineus whispered.

Paka placed her lips back onto his, cutting his words short, then withdrew. “Shh, there’s no need to worry.”

She leaned back in for another kiss, this time longer, deeper, with more purpose. He closed her eyes and wrapped his arms around her smooth body. It was a feeling he hadn’t had for years, and one he thought he would never feel again. Yet here it was, digging its way into the hole that Natalie’s death put into his heart, his mind. A love that was so easily misinterpreted was now so delicately placed into his soft hands. There was no need for the other bed that night…

-Morning-

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads!” Julius exclaimed as he entered into the room he shared with Zax and Dice. He carried a plasteel tray in his left hand, topped with three medium-sized travel cups filled to the brim with their respective liquids, and one mega-large cup for Zax.

Dyson and Zax- Zax had one of the beds; Dyson took to the floor next to it- awakened, barely, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Julius walked up to Zax’s bed, closest to the transparisteel viewport and placed the mega-large cup of caf onto its night-table.

“Some caf for you and me,” Jules said, grinning as if morning was the grandest time of all- which to him it was. “And a nice cup of Aitha for the, Cap,” he placed the Aitha down not a centimeter from the tired, bald head of Dyson.

Dyson wasn’t one for Caf, but the energy drink known as Aitha- commonly known around pilots who ventured out into open space for long periods of time- was his drink of choice.

“I left a bottle of vayerbok outside Phin’s door, I know he likes that sludgy crap,” Jules said.

He lifted up his right hand, showing off a rather small yet full brown breakfast bag, and his smile grew as wide as his facial muscles would allow, “I got doughnuts!”

Within three, maybe four minutes, Dyson and Zax were wide awake, digging into the assorted doughnuts and bantha-biscuits, washing their food down with the occasional swig of their drinks. Dyson, though not good at waking up so early, was pretty good at fully energizing himself once he was awake. A simple routine of de-starving his body, followed by two sets each of push-ups and sit-ups, and a quick sanisteam tickled his nerves into full compliance to being awake during the wee hours of the morning- 6am standard time in this case. Zax preferred dissembling, reassembling, and cleaning his weaponry to start-up his brain. In either case, both ways for effective; once they finished their morning meals they engaged in their routines and within an hour they were awake and animated.

“I got some good news,” Jules informed.

“Better than the breakfast in bed?” Dice asked. “Or breakfast on floor, in my case.”

Jules nodded, “I think it is. The Validus has been repaired and ready to go already.” Dice narrowed his brow, and Jules picked up on the unspoken question, “I dunno, apparently some repair specialist happened to fly down and helped fix her up.”

Dice nodded along and dropped his voice level to a near whisper, “And what about the T3 droid?”

Jules shrugged, “He’s been helping with the repairs, we’ll have to wait and see though.”

“Then I suggest we pack our things and check out,” Zax interjected. “The less time we’re on this moon, the better.”

-Later-

In the other room, Phineus lay alone in the bed. He heard the raining water coming from the sanisteam as it shook him ever so gently from his sleep. His eyes leisurely blinked open as he tossed his legs over the right side of the bed, rubbing his face. He was in desperate need of a shave, his beard had took on a pirate look to it; a pirate who had been out at sea for a good month or two. His untidy hair fell messily in front of his eyes; he countered with a twitch of his head, placing the hair back into place. He rose; the bedspread fell lazily as he came to a complete stand, stretching his tired limbs. His night clothes- which merely consisted of black sporting shorts- were entirely wrinkled from his waist to the bottom of his knees. His muscular chest and arms glistened from the minimal amount of sweat that he had occurred from sleeping in the hot room, further heated by sleeping so close to Paka.

Speaking of…

Phineus rubbed his unkempt beard as he leisurely made his way toward the refresher. Without knocking, he slid open the door and stepped inside. The sanisteam’s four rectangular walls were tinted to the maximum, though Phineus could still barely see the outlining of her figure. He smiled his trademark smile and slid open the door.

“Waahh!!”

“Gaaahhh!!”

The screams came from Julius- not Paka- and Phineus in turn. Phin slid shut the door as he shielded his eyes and turned away.

“Did you see anything?” Jules exclaimed.

“What the frak are you doing in here?” Phin asked frantically.

“Dice is in our refresher, Paka said I could come and use yours,” Jules spoke as he shut-off the sanisteam and grabbed a towel from the inner waterproof rack.

“Well, fine then,” Phineus said, as if he had been scarred. “Get some clothes on; I’ll be in your room.”

Phineus trekked out of the room he shared with Paka; upon opening the durasteel door, a leaning Paka and Zaxis almost fell flat on their faces. They had been attempting to withhold complete and utter laughter, apparently they had been leaning against the door listening in- Zax was behind Paka due to the humungous size difference. Phineus bore a face of disappointment, and slight humiliation.

“So you two planned this all alone?” Phineus asked sternly.

“Two?” Zax reiterated.

“You were behind this, Paka?” Phin shifted his gaze to the suspect.

Paka grinned, and finally stopped giggling, “Hey, I simply told him he could use our refresher. I knew that you’d think it was me.”

Phineus nodded, trying not to let his grin show, “Very funny.”

“Good news,” Jules said from behind Phineus, now dressed in his smugglers best.

“Yeah,” said Phin, “you’re not naked.”

“That,” Jules came to Phin’s right side, “and our ship’s been repaired earlier than we expected.”

“So what do we do now?” Zax asked. “Where do your coordinates lead to?”

Phin shrugged, retraced his steps back inside the room, picked up his datapad from his night-table, and then returned to the others.

“Weird,” Phineus muttered, though loud enough for the other three to hear. “Those coordinates I had that sent us here?” The others listened intently. “They’re gone, replaced by other coordinates.”

Paka quickly extended her hand, “Let me have a look.” She took a few seconds to look it over, and then nodded. “Weird is right. They’re completely gone and erased from your pad’s memory. The new coordinates head for Manaan.”

“Manaan?” Jules questioned. “So why were we sent here?”

Zax interjected, “Sounds like a wild bantha hunt.”

Paka continued, “There’s a red blip marked on the planet of Manaan, more like above its atmosphere. I think that’s your capital ship.”

Phineus narrowed his brow in contemplation, “What Jules said; why were we sent here?”

“A good question,” Paka resumed. “Maybe there was an error in the transmitting, something somewhere got frakked up along the way.”

“So how do we know these ones are right?” Zax asked.

“Well, there is the blip there,” Paka said lightly. “And comments.”
“Comments?” Phin reiterated.

“Little folders attached to various coordinate markers along the way,” Paka confirmed. “I think they’re set up to open once we arrive to certain destinations. They form a path to the blip. I think it’s our best bet.”

Phineus nodded, and then noticed the three other faces- now four as Dice stepped out from the other room, wiping his moist face with a towel- staring at him. Not in a creepy sort of way, but as if they were expecting him to magically come up with an answer, to lead them, to guide their path. Somehow, the answer was simple, and came out before he could even take a moment to think.

“We’ll head for Manaan immediately,” Phineus said. “Dice, Jules; can you two head for the ship, make sure we have a green light, and fire her up?” They nodded. “Zax, escort Paka down to the lobby, check us out, and buy a supply crate,” Zax bowed and Paka winked in confirmation. “Good, I’ll plot our course and send a holo-transmission to the Selkath, letting them now we’ll be there in…”

He glanced over to the piloting experts, Dice and Jules. Jules chimed in, “A day at the most.”

“…a day it is. Keep your comm-links at the ready; we’ll meet at the ship in an hour.”

The four bowed to each other, and separated along their own ways.


______________________________________________________

Words- 3,644

OOC:

Part 8: Final part for now

-Manaan-

The Validus had docked in the Bothan Assault Frigate’s hangar bay, to portside. Phineus took a deep breath and then departed down the boarding ramp. Upon exiting the ship and stepping onto the durasteel floor, Phineus immediately took notice of the three starfighters of varying model lined up next to each other. Starting at the left was a Belbullab 22 starfighter; a sleek ship coated in a grey-silver with a red trim running across the left side. In the center of the three aligned fighters sat a green Gauntlet; stylishly crafted with two ferocious, protruding from the center canopy. Lastly, a blue and grey Eta-2 Actis Interceptor sat- the sleekest of the three craft. Immediately, Phineus fell in love.
The welcoming committee was nothing short of unimpressive, as a matter of fact there was none. Led by Dice and Jules- as always- the others walked down the boarding ramp. Phineus felt a pat on his back and turned to his left, seeing Dice.

“Well, for a rich kid,” Dice began, “you don’t really have many friends.”

Phineus chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure someone will be along shortly.”

Dice raised his brow, “Um… sure. Isn’t this your ship? Can’t we just walk about freely?”

Phin shrugged, “I…”

His datapad shook again, Phineus extended his arms out and allowed the holo-image to be displayed; another meter tall image of his mother. She bore a warm smile, though appeared as if she were prepared to never smile again.

She said, “Phineus, welcome to your new home. I hope you have everything you need here, it’s all yours. Your droid army is active aboard the ship, watching over it, led by HK-95, your army commander. He can be a little brutal- even sadistic- sometimes, but he’s very efficient and always gets the job done. Your quarters are within the command center at the top of the ship, and the only other room up there is custom made for a very special droid.”

She smiled as she patted the cheese wheel headed TK, whom ‘dwooed’ warmly within the static. She continued, “These droids are trust worthy, I reprogrammed half of them myself. In a galaxy full of treachery, betrayal, and duplicity, it is hard to find honest and loyal companions. These droids aboard this ship are the definition of loyal. They will watch over you, fight for you, and protect you at all costs. I hope you are not too overwhelmed by the destiny that lies ahead for you, Phinny, as I was. Goodbye, my child, I love you.”

The sweet, young, and innocent image dissipated and was pertinently replaced by that of Ochi. He said, “Young one, as you now know you are in possession of everything aboard this ship, and that you have the pass-codes and information needed to retrieve your fortune in full on Aargau, there is one last thing. There is a moon, along the outer rim, that was once owned by Yagino Morticius Gageus. He passed it on down the family tree, and now it has come to you. You own this moon, young one, however- its coordinates have been lost. If you so wish, you may trek out and explore the outer rim for this moon and regain rightful ownership. All the information has now been uploaded to your datapad. Finally, I wish for you one thing; survive! Defeat those who bask in evil and wish to do nothing but strip the happiness from your very soul. Not a member of the Gageus clan exists today aside from yourself, and I ask of you this one thing. Survive, and continue on the Gageus legacy so that one day that name may once again be a prominent player in the galaxy. Take care young nephew, of yourself and others; it is the Gageus way…”

The datapad withdrew the image, the final holo-vid he would receive, and transmitted an unidentifiable set of coding. Once the transmission was complete, the above glow rods which once illuminated a dim blue light now radiated a bright white. The double doors leading into the hangar bay from the interior of the ship now slid open, as an all black- and very glossy- 3PO droid staggered inside.

He tilted his head, continued walking the remaining two meters to come in arms length of Phineus, and then bowed.

“Ah, Master Gage, there you are,” the droid spoke. “I am D-3PO, proficient protocol droid at your service.”

Phineus spared the droid a bow- not out of disrespect, but merely out of confusion, bewilderment, and longing, felt all at once. “Hello D-3PO,” Phineus mustered, “nice to meet you.”

“As it is an honor to finally meet you, Sir,” D-3 chimed as excited as the droid could sound. “I assure you that my functions are quite vast and can be well used. I can speak in any vocal language known within the intergalactic circuit, as well as that of binary moisture evaporators…”

Phineus smirked and waved the droid off, “That’s very good, D-3, your services will be appreciated.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” D-3 bowed again, then shifted his body forty-degrees to the right and extended his right arm outward towards the now open double doors. “If you’d be so kind as to follow me into the main corridor of the ship, I can give you a well-plotted tour.”

Phineus kept his smirk, he loved the way droids worked, and followed leisurely, “I’d like that. May I ask what my mother named this vessel?”

“You may,” D-3 allowed.

Phineus chuckled hardily, “Alright then, what did my mother name this ship?”

“She didn’t,” D-3 answered. “She gave me orders to allow you the naming of this ship.”

Phineus offered a look of ponderment, “What did you know of my mother?”

“I only served by her side for a few short months, though in my time with her I discovered that she was steadfast, headstrong, a leader. Her intentions were as good as any, and her love for you was unmatched.”

Phineus rubbed his bearded chin, “Hmm… then this ship shall be named the Fortis.”

“Very intelligent, Sir, I must admit,” D-3 said proudly. “You have combined the highlight traits of your mother into one word. A word that belonged to the ancient language of the Gre…”

Phineus waved the droid off one last time, “Yes, D-3, I know all about it. Now, let’s get that tour underway.”

D-3 bowed again, “Very well, Sir.”

-Manaan, planet side-

Jacin sat across from the other figure, a Selkath, at the two meter-long mahogany table within the bright blue conference room. Overhanging on the ceiling were half-meter long bright-white glowrods, along ten meter-long room. The conference room itself was within a small, one story building full of similar conference rooms- some smaller, some larger- set-up for meetings between Manaan officials and various off-worlders; meetings such as this.
The Selkath sitting across from Jacin Draalis was Jito Qual, one of the few Manaan judges. Jacin’s goal was to talk Qual into giving complete admission to Phineus and his crew- ever since the Imperial attack on the Selkath not too long ago, many off-worlders were completely restricted to a small zoning area with a single, run-down cantina and just two merchant shops. Selkath all but hated off-worlders now-a-days, and they kept a very close eye over them. Jacin, however, needed them to be more than convivial to his soon-to-be-landing friends.

“What is it, exactly, that you want Mr. Draalis?” Qual asked in a watery tone.

“A few off-worlders will be landing within the hour,” Jacin said. “I want them to be given complete access to every single inch of this planet.”

The Selkath turned from a deep blue to a blushing red, “Aboslutely not! They are restricted to a quarter of our shops in Ahto City, and that is all.”

“Well, no,” Jacin said as he rolled his eyes while shaking his head, “that’s not good enough. I need them to have an unrestricted freedom, planet-wide.”

Qual came into a near-laughing cackle, “Surely, you have wasted both our times here, Mr. Draalis. Would you like an escort back to your shuttle?”

A look of fatigue swept across Jacin’s face- not due to his physical body being drained, but because he was so bored from having to jump through hoops in order to convince people to listen to his voice.

“I think I can find my way back on my own, Judge,” Jacin said. “Though I must say, I doubt our business is done here.”

Qual now laughed completely, “Oh, sure, off-worlder. Thank you for stopping by Manaan.”

Draalis angrily walked from the conference room, and was now joined by Buro Orhshek, a Mandalorian mercenary. Buro was hired some two weeks ago and assigned to Draalis, whom Buro had taken an extreme liking to. Jacin was sinister, violent and non-diplomatic. Entering into his early forties, Buro had grown mature enough to admire men nearly half his age.

“I take it things didn’t go so well?” Buro asked with his Mandalorian-Coruscanti accent.

Jacin kept his speedy pase, easily matched by Buro, and began to speak with a hint of annoyance, “It went perfectly.”

Buro knew Jacin was annoyed, but could not tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He questioned, “Sounded to me as though he wouldn’t budge.”

“And that- my Mandalorian friend- is exactly what we wanted,” Jacin replied.

His annoyed tone dropped to one of content, his droopy face picked up into a half-smirk, and his walk become slower and more lax. The Manaan judge had left the line of sight and ear shot, and Jacin dropped his act.

“Sir?”

Jacin decided not to reply with words, but rather with actions. He withdrew a datapad and opened the holo-vid tool, and handed it to Buro. The two men were now standing twenty meters outside the small building, still within the small, cut-off section of Ahto City that off-worlders were still allowed in. Jacin stopped, turned on his heel, and quietly whispered.

“And the scene… begins.”

The datapad buzzed as a red ‘breaking news’ bar scrolled across from right to left.

It read: Reports of a bomb threat have seeped themselves into the ears of many Manaan officials. The threat has claimed that the Confro-Building in the off-worlder section of the city of Ahto has a bomb within it. All civilian and non-civilians are being evacuated and detained.

Buro raised a brow, and then the threat became real. The building they had just exited had imploded; a grey-red smoke began to seep from out the broken windows. Buros turned his head to Jacin.

“You sent in the threat once we left and just detonated the bomb before the evacuations began?” Buros asked.

Jacin shook his head, “Me? Now I didn’t do a thing.” Jacin then rolled his eyes, “Ok, so maybe I happened to send in a threat and plant a bomb, but I didn’t detonate it.”

“Then who did?” Buros inquired with a furrowed brow.

“You,” Jacin said firmly. “And you did it all on camera.”

Security officials of Ahto City and the entire planet of Manaan quickly emerged into the small off-worlder section of the city. They had raised blaster rifles, prepared stun-cuffs, and angered faces. Ju-tep Drall, the Security Chief, stepped up to a very confused Buros.

“Thanks for the tip,” Drall said to Jacin.

“It was my pleasure,” Jacin admitted. “I simply cannot tolerate terrorists on any planet. It was simply my intergalactic duty.”

Buros’ face steamed with red anger as the Chief slapped the stun-cuffs on him, “You…!”

“Now, now,” Jacin said as he slowly backpeddled, raising his hands to his chest in mock fear. “Anything you say or do can and will be used against you.”

Buros shouted a Mandalorian curse as he was taken away and fire, search and rescue teams arrived. Jacin smiled; he had set it up so that by simply touching his fingerprints to the datapad, Buros would set off the bomb- which he had planted unknowingly not an hour prior. In this life, Jacin knew, one had to make certain sacrifices in order to survive as long as possible. This particular sacrifice- letting go of his top mercenary- was neccassary to ensure Jacin’s survival, as well as making certain that Phineus and his group of pitiful followers would be given free will to go about Manaan as they so pleased. Everything, so far at least, was going to plan.

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