Chapter 5
The Star-runner settling on the pad was in mint condition. It looked as if it had just come off the assembly line. Written in Trio-script, the name “The One-Note,” sometimes translated to the “One-Song,” looked like an art and music colliding. It was coupled with a stylish humming bird. The foreman, Tower, was impressed. His crew was not. They grumbled. He ignored it, as it was something disparaging about VIP’s in general, but clearly this one had some money behind them because no one had a Star-runner in such good shape. Service droids whistled appreciatively.
“Bet it’s pieced together with jury rigged parts,” one said.
A handler arrived and waited for the ramp to be lowered. The ship was powering off in stages, suggesting a very professional pilot was following recommend protocols, perhaps even using a check list. The lamp started its way down. A door open and R2 unit, ‘Pink,’ emerged. It bypassed the welcome committee and went to the nearest droid to communicate the ship’s needs. Pink emerged into the light. She took a moment to orientate to the sun. She noticed a stream of traffic flowing and disappearing below the vantage of the building. She was tempted to bring up her hood. She wore trousers and a poncho. Her lightsaber was concealed. The handler didn’t rush up, but waited. He was an odd little fellow and only recognized his species due to book learning. He looked out of place in the clothing he was wearing. She came to the end of her ramp.
“Snivvian?” she asked.
He spoke native. A translator penned to his collar translated. “Yes. I am Sold, your Chalcor representative. Forgive the tech, but I have such a bad lisp that my common is indecipherable.”
“It’s okay,” Ten said. “I don’t understand the red carpet treatment.”
“Damn princesses,” one of the crew member said. The foreman slapped him. “Sorry, for that,” Sold said. “We don’t get that many celebrities, but I can assure you, your anonymity will be maintained.”
“I still don’t understand,” Ten said. “I am neither a celebrity nor a princess.”
“Of course,” Sold said, bowing subserviently. “Your ship will be serviced per your Droids specifications, fueled and ready for departure within two hours. You may remain her on this pad indefinitely, but if you prefer to have it in the hangar, I will assure you it will moved with the utmost of care.”
“Hangar would be nice, near an exit,” Ten said. “How much do I owe you?” “Your service has been pre-paid,” Sold said.
“By whom?” Ten asked.
“The Wizard of the Fortress,” Sold said.
“Master Waycaster,” Ten said.
Sold bowed. On hearing that, none of the crew spoke another word, and disgruntled look vanished.
“There is a car waiting for you,” Sold said. “If you will, follow me.”
“Pink, stay with the ship,” Ten said, and followed Sold. “And don’t let them break anything! You’re in charge.”
Pink chattered happily as she departed, and then sternly gave orders. Droids and people obeyed. Sold brought her to the Taxi line, but she didn’t need further guidance. Freya, G’s luxury droid, stood out. Ten rushed the droid and hugged it affectionately.
“It’s nice to see you,” Ten said.
“I am happy to see you are well,” Freya said.
Ten’s mood shifted. “I do not need a chaperone.”
Freya bowed. A slight gesture with the hand said she could take the car without her. “He sent you to talk me out of it?” Ten said.
“That is not his way,” Freya said. “You have a choice. All choices have consequences. Not all consequences can be undone.”
“You know what I intend to do?” Ten said.
“We suspect,” Freya said.
“And you will go with me anyway?” Ten asked.
“I will not,” Freya said. “Though you are never alone with the Force, there are times when you must follow the path in silence. Should you put yourself in a situation, it will be your job to extricate yourself. Even G will be limited in response.” “If I asked you to go with me?” Ten asked.
“I would persist in redirecting your path,” Freya said.
“So you think no good will come from this, or G thinks this?” Ten said. “Anything can be made into good,” Freya said. “Master Tenico.” “Please, I am just a Padawan,” Ten said.
“In that case, my orders are to bring you to your to Master Waycaster,” Freya said.
Ten fumed. “No.”
“Not all stories have happy endings, Ten. Are you a student, or a master?” Freya asked.
“I am doing this,” Ten said.
Freya bowed. “May the Force be with you, Master Tenico,” Frey said.
Ten entered the vehicle and the door began to lower. She looked ahead, arms crossed. She told the car where to go, and it departed. She saw Freya through her periphery but didn’t make eye contact again. Kyoko arrived on the chair beside her.
“Well, that was awkward,” Kyoko said.
“Shut up,” Ten said.
“I am not Droid. You can’t just tell me to shut up,” Kyoko said.
Ten gave her a look. Kyoko settled in the seat and crossed her arms, pouting. She mirrored Ten’s look. Ten found the landscape boring. Traffic was monotonous. The steady stream and probably noise would drive her crazy after having lived in the country for so long, followed by her sabbatical in space. She wanted to be back in space. She could be, but reminded herself she needed to save Corissa. They had not parted on the best of terms, but next to G, Corissa was the only woman who had ever treated her with love and respect, the only woman she would ever call mother. There was an ache in her heart. Some of it was for the visions of how Corissa would die. Some of it was for the way their relationship had appeared to decline as she got older. She had been living on the streets and fending for herself since the age of four and so adjusting to a parent figure, even knowing that she only meant to keep her safe, had been difficult.
The taxi settled outside the club. On the outside of the club, it seemed glittery and bright. She detected a darkness within.
“Are you sure about this place?” Ten asked. “I am sure,” Kyoko said. “How do you know…”
“You told me to shut up,” Kyoko said.
“I am sorry,” Ten said. “How do you know?”
“You created me to be a guide, a helper,” Kyoko said. “I, too, am Force sensitive. I can travel, just like G, but not in the physical. I travel the imaginal realms. This is the easiest path onto the station. Most likely, the only way.”
“Car, will you wait for us?” Ten asked.
“Your service has been pre-paid,” it responded. “I am at your disposal for your entire stay on Axilla.”
“Thank you,” Ten said, and pushed the button that opened the door.
Ten approached the bar. There was a line to go in. She got in it. Kyoko walked with her.
“This is so exciting,” Kyoko said.
“I am nervous,” Ten said.
“Don’t be,” the guy in line in front of her said. “This is a great club. Want to share a death stick?”
“No thank you,” Ten said.
“You started the conversation,” he said, grumpily.
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Ten said.
“Oh,” he said. “Oh! One too many death sticks. Want to go back to my place?”
“No!” Ten said. “You should go home alone. Now.”
“I think I’ll go home now,” he said, and walked away. “I never felt so rejected in my whole life. Even the crazy chick won’t go home with me.”
“Oh, teach me that trick,” Kyoko said.
“No!” Ten said.
“No what?” the person behind her said. “Um, no cue jumping,” Ten said.
“I wasn’t trying to, bitch,” the girl said.
“Yeah,” her girlfriend said. “Who comes to a club dress like a soldier, anyway?” “Your momma couldn’t afford you a dress?” the first said.
“I bet she has fat thighs,” the other said.
“Both of you, stop being mean to people,” Ten ordered.
“I do like your hair,” the first said.
“Very nice hair. How did you get the pink streaks in it?” the other asked.
“Ask them to go home with you,” Kyoko said.
Ten looked at Kyoko, eyes telling her to be quiet. The guardian of the door saved her from further talk. “You may pass,” he said, allowing her and the two girls behind her to go in. Ten stopped just passed the threshold. The two girls had to go around her, but they did so politely. There was a darkness here, but she couldn’t see it. It was a creepy darkness, like being watched. There were people drinking and talking and dancing. There was a section of the floor with full of suds that people danced in. Some people departed and an equal number entered. She went a little further in. She didn’t like the sound level of the bar.
“What’s wrong?” Kyoko asked.
Ten jumped at the sound of her voice.
“Easy,” Kyoko said. “Come, let’s dance.”
“We’re not here for that,” Ten said. “How does this part work?”
“I don’t know. We meet people. We talk,” Kyoko said. “Which means, we dance.” “This is a trick?” Ten asked.
“No,” Kyoko said.
Ten went to the closest table and sat down. Kyoko joined her. Kyoko pouted. Ten closed her eyes, found the ‘darkness’ amplified in her mind and came right back out of her attempted
‘lite’ meditation.
“This is not the way to mingle,” Kyoko protested.
A waitress came at her, genuinely bubbly. “Greetings. First time here?” “It shows?” Ten asked.
“Yes,” Kyoko answered, echoing the waitress.
“May I get you something? A drink? A snack?” the waitress asked.
“No,” Ten said. “Why are the lights so dim? What are you hiding?”
“People like subdued lighting,” the waitress said. “Call me if you when you’re ready for something.”
Ten followed her with her eyes as she greeted another patron, affectionately.
“I hear the staff here is amenable to intimacy, if you want,” Kyoko said.
“No!” Ten said.
A man sat down at her table. Interestingly, he didn’t sit on top of Kyoko, though it was the more readily available chair. He pulled a chair from an adjacent table, flipped it, and sat backwards. Kyoko edged a little closer to Ten, unable to shift her chair.
“I am not interested,” Ten said.
“Why are you here?” he said.
Ten focused. “It’s a public place,” she said, drawing her right hand closer to the lightsaber. It was not as nice as the ‘pink’ lightsaber, the one G had loaned her, but it was still a saber. She was still baffled as to how G had taken it from where she had stowed it, but glad he hadn’t taken the one he had found while rummaging the derelict.
“Touch your lightsaber, and people will die,” he said. “Hands on the table, where we can see them.”
Ten was processing the word ‘we’ when the man hit the table and said now. Ten put her hands on the table. She saw them, out of the corner of her eyes. She had an impulse to run. She gripped the table. Her skin crawled and tingled and she just wanted to be out in under a stream of water. Kyoko disappeared. The ceiling crawled. The flashing of strobes and synchronous musical lights made the ceiling itself seem alive, like inverted ocean. Suddenly the room was quiet. No, the music was the same volume, people continued dancing, but she and the man were in a bubble of quiet.
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Who are you?” Ten asked.
“I am the bartender. This is my place,” he said. “Don’t look for them. Look at me.
Answer my question.”
Ten didn’t want to play the long drawn out game, and so just spit it out. “I want to get on board the orbital-planetary shield generator platform at Darthomir. The Force led me here, so I am thinking I can find an exploitable vice of one of the employees, or perhaps find a contact who can smuggle me on board.”
The bartender was quiet, sorting. “This will cost you.” “I have access to credit,” he said.
“I have access to credit,” Ten said.
“It will cost you more than credit, dear. But the credit part, 200,000 Dataries,” the bartender said. “By tomorrow night, this time.”
Ten repeated the number. “Are you insane? How am I supposed to get…”
“You’re a Jedi. Figure it out,” the bartender said, getting up. “Don’t come back without
it.”
“Wait,” Ten said.
The bartender politely lingered.
“What’s the other cost?” Ten asked.
“There are always hidden costs to the sort of thing you’re asking. I can get you on, but you will have to do something for us. Once this process begins, there will be no backing out,” the bartender said. “I want to know exactly what the cost are,” Ten said.
“No,” the bartender said. “You commit to the process, or you don’t. If you come back with the credit, we’re committed. I think you should leave. Come back tomorrow. Order a pink sunset. Drink it.”
The bartender departed.
Ten got up from the table and walked towards the exit. It took all her strength not to run to the exit. The further away from the bar she went, the easier it was to breathe. Kyoko was suddenly in front of her. Ten raised her hands to ward off an attack.
“Easy!” Kyoko said.
“Where did you go?!” Ten demanded.
“I was with you, but you couldn’t hear me because your fear response was so strong,” Kyoko said. “Seriously, you need to learn to relax. You’re so stiff. People will think you are autistic or home schooled.”
“How am I going to get that much credit?” Ten asked. “Even if I sold all my salvage, it wouldn’t be that much…” “Ask G,” Kyoko said.
“No,” Ten said.
Kyoko eyes twinkled with inspiration. “Up for some gambling?” “No,” Ten said.
“Come on?! It’ll be easy. We just use the Force. Or I can peek at the other player’s hands! It’s a sure thing,” Kyoko said.
Ten frowned, thinking not a good idea, but also found her feet moving in the direction of a casino. Kyoko had taken her arm and was chattering excitedly.
♫♪►
Ten found herself in a lone chair in the center of the room. Kyoko stood behind her. Four armed men were in each corner of the room. There were cameras and, she was certain about this, hidden weapons pointing at her, either controlled by a remote operator or Droid Intelligence. Dryster, the floor boss, scrutinized her, leaning against his desk, arms crossed. He was old, but dressed well, and in apparent good health.
“I have this little problem,” Dryster said. “It’s bad for business to kill winners. Word gets around, business drops off. At the same time, I can’t allow cheating to go uncheck in my own establishment.”
“I wasn’t cheating,” Ten stammered.
“Your soul-bound was looking at other player’s cards,’ Dryster said. “Oh!” Kyoko said. “You see can see me. He can see me!” “I see,” Ten said.
“I am a seer,” Dryster said.
“A Jedi?” Kyoko asked.
“No,” Dryster said, chuckling. “Not all Force users are Jedi. I could have been, back in the day, but I never came under the scrutiny of those in power. Of course, that was before the fall and the rise of the Empire. I didn’t see the fall, but had I been brought in, I would have died. I see that in retrospect.”
“You’re that old?” Ten asked.
“Never trust a young seer. Only the aged have demonstrated ability,” Dryster said. “You have potential. Let’s talk when you arrive at a hundred years old.” “So, if we’re just discussing abilities, I wasn’t cheating,” Ten said.
“Negotiating?” Dryster asked.
“Is counting cards cheating?” Ten asked.
“Yes. The thing is, you weren’t even being subtle about it,” Dryster said.
“What can I say? The Force was with me,” Ten said.
“The Force is with everyone!” Dryster said. “But you’re not everyone. You’ve had training. You are no longer just a piece of glass, you’re focused lens. That’s cheating.” “And the house doesn’t cheat?” Ten asked.
“The House always wins because of the volume. We serve the community. We pay taxes.
We employ people. We offer hope. “ “You take advantage of people who are desperate and or ill,” Ten said.
“Is that why you’re here? A crusade to right all the wrongs? Stealing from the perceived rich to give to the poor, who will in turn just give us back the money as they try to win more?” Dryster asked. “We donate funds to the charity next door. An anti-gambling establishment, to help those who are stuck in addictive behavior. Bet you didn’t know that. We also offer employment opportunities for the desperate, the homeless, and we give small loans when the official banks won’t. You’re not here to help people. You’re here to help yourself. You thought you had an advantage. How much did you intend to steal?”
“500,000,” Ten said, doubling her need in case half sounded too little to be believable.
Dryster uncrossed his arms. He brought his hands together. He twirled his thumb. “Not a small sum,” he said. “You have a modicum of talent. I could offer you employment.” “Like what? Debt collecting?” Ten asked.
“I imagine you’d do well at that. People are more willing to give girls money than the stereotypical goon,” Dryster said. “But there are lots of opportunities for a Force sensitive. Your soul-bound would be great at gathering intel. We pay extra for good secrets.” “No, thank you. I’d rather remain an independent contractor,” Ten said.
“Very well. I will give you 500,000. One caveat, you will never gamble at any of our facilities again,” Dryster said. “Ever.” “Seriously?” Ten said.
“I could just kill you,” Dryster said.
“I accept,” Ten said.
“You will have to do one favor for us,” Dryster said.
“I will not kill anyone for you,” Ten said.
“I won’t ask you to kill, but you will be in my debt. I will call this favor,” Dryster said.
“When?”
“When it’s time,” Dryster said.
“You assume I’ll be around to collect?” Ten said.
“I am a seer,” Dryster said.
“And what if I am dead?’ Ten asked.
“Death will not relinquish you from my debt,” Dryster said. “My men will escort you off the premise. Before you leave, you will do a photo op in the winner circle. Try to look happy. You just won big time.”
♫♪►
Ten hesitated at the ramp of the OneSong. She was confident she wasn’t alone, but there was no one to be seen in the hanger short of droids. She exposed her lightsaber and walked up the ramp. She forced herself to relax, deepening her breathing, and entered. She found Priya waiting inside and relaxed for real. Priya was sitting at a small table. Pink was nearby. The Droid gave a nervous little call, recognizing the tension in the room. “You scared me,” Ten said.
“And yet, you still came,” Priya said. “Come have a seat.”
Ten came over to the table. “If you have come to talk me out of this, I am not listening.”
“I am not here to talk you out of it,” Priya said. “You want me to go?” Ten said.
“I do not,” Priya said. “Pink?”
Pink displayed a hologram image of the shield generating platform. “This is the orbital shield generator platform at Darthomir,” Priya said. “Assuming it’s fully manned, there is likely to be 60,000 souls on board.” She spun the hologram and enlarged it. “It is su