Lok, Stock, and Two Smoking Blasters

[Tigo Kimogila]

From the foothills of the Jungula mountain range, the naked eye beheld little other than long expanses of baked desert and desolate plains dazzling and simmering under the glare of the merciless sun. To the trained eye, however, a myriad landmarks were unveiled; a gleaming sulphur pool, a lone moisture tower, the pearly white remains of some ancient beast, or even the smoking ruins of an abandoned pirate camp; each mapping the treacherous terrain stretched out endlessly in every direction.

He stood atop a sand dune, a gloved hand pressed against his forehead as he surveyed the last leg of his patrol route. Behind him there were a series of frantic beeps. He turned to find one of his pet kusaks had strayed from the pack to investigate the sensor beacon freshly planted in the ground. The rest of the pack were startled and stood, their burnt red fur standing on end. He rushed over and hushed them when they growled.

“It’s alright, fellas. We’re leaving now.”
<o></o>
He crouched down near the curious canine and stroked its smooth back. The others promptly joined him, dragging his dunesled along behind them, and brushed their noses and ears against his soft khaki garments. He laughed, and gave each one a bit of attention before packing up and climbing aboard his hovering sled. The kusaks obediently lined up, all joined by a couple of thick leather straps which ran through their harnesses to the vehicle behind them.
<o></o>
Somewhere in the distance, there was a shrill shriek which echoed throughout the neighbouring canyons. The cry was returned from the opposite direction and Tigo took that as his cue to leave. He called to his pack of kusaks and they set off in unison, pulling him and the sled down the dune at great speed. On his descent, he noticed a bright shimmer in the blue sky above. His eyes narrowed and he made out a medium sized freighter flanked by two smaller vessels, they were heading to the north towards Nym’s Stronghold.<o></o>

[Regan Valdis]

Corellians were known for their love of starships. Many of the best starpilots in the galaxy hailed from there, as well as some of the best smugglers. And almost all Corellians who cruised the black tides of space were a sucker for heavy modifications. Most of the time there modications were visually evident in one way or another. Corellian ships had almost as much personality as their captains, showing across the glistening, blaster-scarred hulls that frequented trade routes and in-system spaceways. But as with most things in life, there were exceptions.

In true Corellian fashion - as is a Corellians' taste for old model starships - a Gallofree Yards GR-75 transport vessel soared through the late-morning sky. Though the design was old, the ship itself was brand new. The captains father had personally highered an ex-employee of the now-bankrupt Gallofree Yards to design and oversee construction of the custom-made vessel. As the captain veered slightly in response to atmospheric variations, one of the smaller escorts sparked through the intercom.

"That sure is a beauty you got there friend."

Regan's lips stretched quickly into a proud smile as he lounged back in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of him; his feet interlocked with the flight controls.

"She certainly is, my good man. My father had her custom-built as a birthday present last month. Everything shiny-new - spared no expense!"

He accepted an elegant glass of reddish liquid from a protocol droid who scooted off after acknowledging Regans approval. Sipping carefully, he leaned to one side to view one of the escorting Z-95 Headhunters. Another transmission jumped out of the communications console.

"You're lucky we showed up when we did. It'd be a shame for one of Nym's raiding parties to scratch that pretty little hull. The local administrator loves visitors. He'll be more than happy to supply you with those components you mentioned."

Another quick gulp of the wine, and Regan clapped his hands together and held them there, interlocking his fingers.

"Splendid, splendid! If it's not too much trouble, I wonder if I could arrange an escorted visit to some of the local markets? I'm always interested in partaking of the local merchants offerings. Maybe I could even arrange an overnight stay?"

Behind the tinted permaglass windows of the Z-95, the pirate scoffed, bearing his discoloured, cheap booze-tarnished teeth before donning a mockingly pleasant smile and warming up his voice into the jovial tone once again.

"I'm sure the administrator would be happy to... accomodate you."

The transport was unarmed, and the duo of fighters were more than capable of disabling it under normal circumstances. But these weren't normal circumstances. Though the captain was a naive buffoon, he was a Corellian. And Corellians always modify their vessels. But this Corellian had no desire for the latest and greatest in hidden weapons bays. But what he did have a great interest in was his life, and he always took the greatest measures to ensure it continued for as long as possible. Hence the presence of the as-yet unavailable prototype lattice shielding system designed specifically for use in military starships that Regan's father had bought the patents for and increased the efficiency and decreased the physical size for use in medium to large freighters and transports in service in the family business.

The pirates' illegal scanning computers had detected the hidden shield generators and thusly concluded that they were impenetrable by anything short of a battery of Imperial-grade turbolasers. So they opted for the more time-consuming approach - winning the idiot's trust and conning him into landing and deactivating the shields.

[Tigo Kimogila]

A strong wind picked up as Tigo and his kusaks crossed the largest of the nothern flats. In a rucksack propped up inside his sled he found a pair of tinted goggles and put them on. The kusaks were fatigued, pushing onward against the barrage of hot wind and biting dust had them dehydrated; Tigo heard their whimpers and yelps of protest over the rushing of the sandstorm. He pulled on the reigns and his pets altered course, turning northwards.

"It's okay, boys. Hold on!"

Slowly, from behind the thick sheets of whipping sand, a structure appeared. Small at first, it looked no bigger than a humble mud hut, but invigorated by the promise of shelter, the kusaks raced forth and closed quickly upon their destination. They slowed to a stop at the base of a delapidated tower made of grey stone flanked by a broken wall on each side. Where once a door stood, there was only a dark hole wide enough for one man to walk through alone, above which there flapped half a flag, its edges frayed and blackened.

"In you go, Ringo. You too, Red. Go on, Luz, inside..."

One by one, he released the kusaks into the watchtower then planted the last of his sensor beacons in the ground near the sled. He followed the pack inside, carrying a large basin of water and set it down in the middle of a cracked and charred floor. The dogs bounded forward and drank from it while their master collapsed against a winding staircase. He took a swig from his canteen then pulled off his gloves. A comlink fell to the floor with a delicate tinkle.

"...to Tig. Come in, Tig. Are you there?"

The voice crackled from the tiny comlink, he snatched it up and pressed it to his lips.

"I'm here, Duggs. Got caught in a sandstorm before I could plant the last beacon. I've set up camp at the old Rebel Outpost for a while."

"Alright. When that last beacon went up we thought you'd lost your..."

"Lost?" he repeated incredulously, "Come on, Duggsy, when do I ever get lost?"

"Well," he began, after a moment's silence, "There was that time..."

"That doesn't count! Anyway, listen, once this storm clears I'm gonna hop into the Stronghold to see if there's anything that we should know about. Who's shift is it?"

"Quazick is there 'til sundown. I'll tell him to expect you."

"Good man. I'll see you later, Duggs."

The comlink fell silent and he tucked it back inside one of his gloves. After taking one last gulp from his canteen, he leaned back and with a heavy sigh fell asleep to the sound of the howling wind and the lapping dogs.

[Regan Valdis]

The administrators headquarters was an imposing building. The outer structure was a dark brown rusted shell that looked like it wouldn't budge for anything. The gates were under heavy yet inconspicuous guard. To the rear, large circular hatches served as the entrances to subterranean landing bays. Regan maneuvered his ship directly over one of the already open entrances and descended into the safety of the bay.

Less than an hour had passed and Regan sat huddled in a damp corner of a dilapidated cell in some unknown lockup belonging to some dellusioned pirate leader named Nym. The only other occupant of the dungeon was a fat, ragged old crone on the other side of the cell. Regan eyed her immense size disapprovingly as he hugged the wall even closer.

"When I suggested an overnight stay, this isn't quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of a four-poster bed, scatter cushions and maybe some fillet-mignon for dinner. And if it wasnt too much to ask, perhaps a Twi'Lekk massage and some aromatic oils."

Regan sighed, his chin resting on top of his knees as he sat in a ball on the cold, metal floor. He reluctantly glances back at the crone.

"What are you in for?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

When Tigo awoke, the winds had settled and there was silence in the decrepid watchtower. The kusaks were asleep, curled up around him and the empty water basin. He stood and gingerly navigated the sleeping canines until he reached the opening. The sun hung low, the sky had turned a gentle shade of pink, it was cooler but without a breeze the air was thick and stuffy.

From the waistband of his trousers he pulled a sand-coloured cheche and wrapped it around his head and neck; should another storm pick up only his eyes would have to suffer. He slipped his gloves on and left the watchtower; the pack would wait for him and he trusted them to defend his belongings from scavengers. He turned north and disappeared behind a bulbous dune.

After an hour of trekking across the desert, the terrain became firm and rocky. Tigo reached the summit of a hill, carefully avoiding a number of Perlek nests along the way, and found a dusty plateau, now barren, but once home to a busy shuttleport. The Perlek migration must have killed off the tourism, Tigo thought, or the tourists.

From the top of the hill, he was privy to a view of awesome magnitude: a vast red dustbowl slashed out in every direction, fortified by a perimeter of solid mountain ranges with crudely serrated peaks. A series of lime green rivers bled through scars in the hard valley floor. Brightly coloured huts scarcely populated the river banks where merchants spent hours desperately surveying for a mineral of gas of meagre worth. And at the centre of it all stood the jewel of the planet, the apex of civilisation on a pirate world: Nym's Stronghold.

As he descended into the valley, the features of the Stronghold became apparent; looming walls of reinforced duracrete bolstered by obtuse guard towers, behind which stood taller, more varied edifices, ranging in size and shape, a veritable jungle of concrete and steel. Plumes of smoke sifted through the maze of towering buildings and once high enough, whipped east by thermal winds and reached across the skyline like a great foreboding stormcloud. Only one building reached high enough to pierce this cloud of smog, the most imperious and crimson of them all, the home of the piratelord, Nym.

Near the Stronghold there were merchant huts, Tigo was familiar with most and ducked into the one most reputed for selling shoddy garments. The merchant was a grumpy, down-and-out Rodian called Undees; it was common knowledge that all of his wares were at least second hand, if not third or fourth. The hut stank and he couldn't get out fast enough with his newly-purchased tatty brown cloak.

He threw the cloak over his shoulders and pulled the hood over his head. A caravan of refugees rolled up to the great gates of the pirate city and had been stopped for questioning by the armed guards. It was market day in the city and lowly pilgrims from all over braved the desert for an evening of trade and cheap frivolity. As the caravan filtered into the Stronghold, Tigo followed them close behind. On the floor he saw a pile of Langlatch droppings, he crouched and scooped up a handful to rub into his cloak. Smelling thoroughly passable for a poor wretch, he stepped in time with the pilgrims, hunched double and trudged past the guards and through the great gates into the city.

[Regan Valdis]

The silence of the lock-up was suddenly broken by the sound of metal grinding against itself. The delapidated sturdy gate screeched open to reveal three unpleasant thugs, two of whom carried fairly old repeating blasters. The unarmed man was slightly more dignified, but little more than his scraggy guards.

"The boss likes your ship. Unfortunately your cargo wasn't worth the effort of bringing you all the way here. That's why he has a request for you."

Regan sat up, somewhat offended.

"Well as you can see, gentlemen, I'm not exactly in any sort of position to take requests!"

The blasters suddenly clicked as their power packs charged up to full, with their narrels aiming through the bars at the Corellian.

"What I meant to say was...what could I possibly do for anyone such as yourselves in my current position? I'm just a merchant. An extremely good merchant with an excellent reputation and clean record with customs and trade laws, but thats all really."

The lieutenant placed his hands on top of both blasters and slowly lowered them as a smile swept across his face. His hand disappeared into his pocket to fumble with a small electronic device. A high-pitched beep signalled the opening of the cell door. The metal bars slid to one side, allowing him to enter - one guard focused on the nameless inmate, the other on Regan in the corner, whose already shakened state seemed to elevate somewhat as the men approached.

"That's very interesting."

[Tigo Kimogila]

The guards gave him no trouble; one had swaggered up to him, wearing a smug expression and cradling a rifle in his arms but he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his nostrils twitched and his face twisted with revulsion. He didn't look quite as menacing when he scurried away, wretching into his helmet. Even the refugees kept their distance from him - Langlatch dung was particularly rancid.

Gradually, the caravan dispersed as people ran into old friends, they greeted each other with enthusiasm, despite the overbearing presence of pirate security. The atmosphere was jovial, large families laughed together as they set up elaborate stalls overflowing with an endless variety of goods: fresh vegetables, home-made savouries, richly woven headdresses, custom-made pottery, cured meats, hand-woven baskets, animal feed, sweet liquor, and crafted bronze jewellery. Others provided services behind the silken curtains of tents such as haircuts, fortune telling, oil massages, questionable dentistry and other curious practices.

Amidst the laughter, chatter, singing and dancing of the delighted punters, Tigo found it hard to believe he walked the streets of a notorious pirate fortress. No fights broke out, no disagreements ended in anything other than a handshake or a hug and in fact, Tigo thought, it would be a pleasant way to spend an evening. But he had a job to do and people were relying on him. He squezed between a face-painted juggler and a bare-chested fire-eater and slipped into a narrow sidestreet where the lantern light couldn't reach.

He cast off his putrid cloak and hurried down the dark passage until he came to a junction. To his right, he heard the humdrum sing-alongs of drunken cantina patrons and took a left turn. Ahead of him, he could see the looming sillouette of Nym's fortified residence against the angry red sky. He was close, but nearby he heard voices, muffled behind metal faceguards - a patrol was coming. He dived to one side and pressed his back against a doorway, hoping the guards took a route which didn't lead them to him. Behind him, the door rushed to one side and he fell backwards over the threshold, crashing onto a hard floor in a dark room. The icy barrel of a blaster pressed against his cheek and a cold voice muttered.

"Bantha?"

"Poodoo," Tigo replied.

The blaster pulled away and a hand reached out to help him to his feet. A lanky battle-worn man with sallow skin stood before him, his ears hidden in tufts of grizzly brown hair, his fierce green eyes were alive with a playfulness reflected in his stretching smile. He looked pleased with himself. He crossed the room and shut the door just as the conversation of the pirates on patrol could be made out. One said something about a rich Corellian kid.

"Dren yourself?" said the skinny man, still looking smug.

"Not exactly," Tigo said, indignant as he dusted himself off.

"Yeah, you drenned in your pants."

Smiling, the lanky man extended a long arm and Tigo shook hands with him and clapped him on the arm.

"It's good to see you, Quaz. Duggs told me it was your shift."

"Duggs told me you were coming," said Quazick, he gestured to an empty seat near a glowing hearth.

"Cozy place. Yours?" Tigo asked, falling into a soft lumpy chair.

"Until tomorrow, but I'll be gone by then. I should be home by first light."

Even by the orange glow of the fire, Tigo could tell his comrade was exhausted. Whatever he'd been up to during his three days in town had taken it out of him. A shift in the Stronghold usually meant enduring long sleepless nights in stables and finding company amongst the riff-raff and scavengers littered throughout the sidestreets. He felt burning pride swell in his chest as he looked at his weary friend.

"Listen Quaz, you look like hell. I'll finish your shift."

"Not happening, Tig," he protested, and jumped out of his seat. "I'm fine."

"Sit down, Quaz. It wasn't a request."

Reluctantly, the tall ragged man settled back into his chair and folded his arms the way a child would when told to go to bed. Tigo lowered his head to hide his smirk.

"At the old Rebel Outpost a couple of clicks to the south, I've set up camp and left the kusaks with the sled and the last of the sensor beacons. Take the sled back and plant the last beacon on your way."

"Not the dogs," he grumbled miserably, rubbing his face with enormous grubby hands, "We don't get on well."

"Well now you have time to become acquainted."

He shot Tigo a look of disdain but his smile didn't falter. After a moment, Quazick's stoney faced cracked into a grin and he accepted a swig from Tigo's canteen. A calm silence passed between them, they sat and stared at the cracking fire, enjoying its warmth. The nights on Lok were bitter after a day of clear skies. Tigo suddenly sat upright.

"Before you leave, I want you to tell me what you know about the rich Corellian kid."

"Only if you tell me why you smell like the rear end of a Langlatch."

[Regan Valdis]

"Let me see if I have this all straight. You want me to just dump half my current cargo to make room for a bunch of ill-gotten goods which I then have to transport through five different sectors that are all controlled by the Empire. Three of those sectors have a level 9 customs setup! And I get absolutely nothing in return, right!?"

The pirate lieutenant folded his arms as he stood against the wall, one leg propping him up against it.

"I think your continued existence in the company of your lovely birthday present is a rather fair trade, don't you!?"

Regan clasped his hands together.

"You push a hard bargain here, let me tell you! Okay, lets say I was considering taking you up on this highly-risky, career-suicide offer - what guarantee would I have that I won't be followed and the second I've dropped off the cargo my ship won't be taken again?"

The pirate stood upright now, his hands more animated this time as he spoke. He felt like he was getting somewhere.

"Well for a starter, you already know we can't take on your shields. And you aren't exactly going to fall for the same trick twice, are you? Plus - why the hell would we follow you into Imperial territory to commit a crime out in the open. And the final cherry on the cake - well you already said it yourself. Why would customs stop an established, stand-up trader like you?"

Regan nodded unenthusiastically. His head argued with itself over and over. Knowing that his only real chance of getting off Lok was to commit an crime that could result in the shutdown of his fathers business and impounding all of their vessels was a tough one to chew. But considering his current predicament, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"If this is gonna work, I'll need some way to mask the cargo hold, perhaps fooling the Imperials sensors into thinking I'm transporting something else."

The pirate extended an open palm to Regan.

"I'm sure we can arrange that. Our transport ships are fitted with a localised cloaking field that can mask the contents as well as emit a false signature."

The Corellian sighed with closed eyes, shaking his head before taking the pirates hand in his own.

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo left the cozy homestead before Quazick, trusting his friend would make it out safely. Quazick had given him a keycard he'd acquired in a game of Sabaac the night previous along with directions which would lead him to a sealed door on the east side of the security complex. After fifteen minutes of sneaking round the backs of empty homes and dodging the occassional patrol, he'd found the entrance exactly how it had been described: hidden behind a stack of old storage crates, made of ebony durasteel and, most importantly, completely unguarded.

From his utility belt, he pulled out an orange keycard and slid it into the groove in a panel next to the door. This had better work, he thought, and swiped the card. There was a low buzzing sound, a green light lit up and the large reinforced door whooshed open. He stood before a long narrow corridor dimly illuminated with red light. He stepped inside and the door hissed shut behind him. He was in.

The complex was silent. The clunk the door made as it sealed shut echoed all along the passage. He unholstered the weapon from his hip, a Mark I Blaster, and paced slowly down the length of the coridoor. There were no doors or junctions, only one opening at the opposite end of the hall which led him to a circular room. He peaked around the corner and saw a man sat at a console in the middle of a room. He looked thoroughly bored, staring idly at the screens in front of him with his hefty feet resting on the desk. Tigo grinned, holstered his blaster, and dropped onto his hands and knees.

Out of sight, he scuttled close to the console with all the nobility of a sand beetle. There was a lift across the room from him, and after listening for any movement from the guard, he started scrambling foward, however, when he heard a faint crackling behind him, he froze. A voice sounded over what must've been an intercom, and he heard the guards heavy boots smack against the floor.

"Detention Block to Upper East Wing. Do you copy?"

"Er... I hear you, Detention Block. What can I do for you?"

The guards voice was rough and deep, he sounded as alarmed as Tigo felt.

"Oh, Tipper, it's you. Listen, Mogue is on his way up to you with two of his meatheads. Just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Krast!"

Tigo looked back to see the guard sitting upright and straightening his helmet. He figured this Mogue must be an important figure in their pirate hierarchy. The lift in front of him began to hum, he watched the light change from the ground floor to B1 as it steadily descended into the bowls of the security complex. He knew he had very little time to pull it off, so he stood, drew his blaster and pointed it at the guards chest.

"Sorry, Tipper."

A blue beam flew from the barrel and hit him with a whistling sound. He fell immediately unconcious and slumped lifelessly in his chair. Not wasting a moment, Tigo started stripping the guard of his clothes while keeping an eye on the white light switching from floor to floor until the lift finally reached the detention block below. He shoved the now modestly dressed guard under the desk of the security console and fell into the chair, wearing a baggy security uniform and a loose helmet.

The lift door slid open behind him, he sat still and stared intently at the screens before him while the sound of three men walked by. The man with the impressive gait had to be Mogue, he thought. Two armed pirates walked behind him and glared at Tigo as they passed. Noone spoke to him. Relieved, he waited until they were so far down the long passage that he could no longer hear their clomping feet and he quickly slipped into the lift.

During his descent, he mused to himself how easy it had been to infiltrate the prison block and while he knew that the main reason for that was because Nym had most of his security patrolling the streets on market days, he still believed it couldn't have been done without the experience he and his men had in outwitting the pirates on their own turf. The lift began to slow, and he raised his blaster. As soon as the doors opened, he released another stunning shot from his weapon and the single security guard, whose voice he had heard before over the intercom, fell off his chair and crashed onto the floor.

Tigo darted over to the console and scanned the computer screen before him. The logs indicated that Cell 9 had been the last to be opened. He snatched the keycard hanging from the unconcious guards belt and raced down the corridor. He swiped the card at Cell 9 and charged inside.

"Is there a rich Corellian kid in here?"

[Regan Valdis]

His head hung low, with his chin almost touching his chest. The tinted glasses were barely clinging to the end of his nose. The sudden arrival of an unfamiliar, somewhat benevolent, almost welcoming voice caused his head to snap up, flicking his glasses back onto his nose properly.

"While I may very well be rich by some people's standards, I do have to earn a living. And I'll have you know I'm twenty-four!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

He skidded to a halt and stepped closer to the bars. A young man sat huddled in a corner; he must be a short man, thought Tigo, he looked tiny curled up like that. His head tilted with scrutiny, then he pulled off the pirate guard's helmet. He took one more look at him and nodded.

"Yep, you're definately the rich kid," he said, smiling, "What did you get put in for? Crimes against hair stylists?"

[Regan Valdis]

His eyes widened as his head moved back ever so slightly. He peered down slightly, so that he could see his visitor over the top of his lenses. He was a scruffy-looking lanky sort, slightly taller than Regan, with a friendly tone in his voice. But demeanor's were abundant on Lok.

"No doubt I'd have avoided such a conviction if I'd learnt from you, right Mr. Poodoo Stain?"

The penny dropped as the words left his mouth. He didn't seem to fit the attire that barely hung against his body.

"You're not one of them, are you?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"Quick on the draw, you are," he said, casting the helmet to the ground.

Tigo crouched and studied the lock on cell door; it couldn't be opened with a keycard, in fact, there were no visible markings on it to suggest it required a key at all. There was a click as he flicked a switch on his blaster, then he raised it and fired. A jet of red struck the lock, sparks leapt into the air and the metal was reduced to a fizzing, gaping hole. He slid the bars to one side and looked down at the Corellian.

"You had a complaint about your suite, sir?"

[Regan Valdis]

The fumes from the charred lock made him gag slightly. He stood up and approached the now open door, quickly revealing a handkerchief and covering his mouth and nose with it. A somewhat muffled reply issued forth from beneath the white fabric.

"I wasn't entirely happy with my roommate, and the room service was lousy!"

He gave a parting glance to the snoozing obese hag on the floor. As they started walking away from the cell, Regan puzzled as just just exactly how the woman managed to get into the cell in the first place. Her immense size easily championed the width of the gate. He quickly dismissed the thought.

"So where to?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo stared at him with disbelief.

"Outside."

He shook his head and turned to jog to the main hall of detention block. He heard the rich kid following and stopped to glance around the corner; the guard was still unconcious. Beside his lifeless body, Tigo saw the guard's weapon and silently reprimanded himself for not taking it earlier. He snactched it up and offered it to the Corellian.

"How's your aim?"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan tucked his hands just inside his jacket sleeves before taking hold of the blaster. He took his handkerchief again and started wiping the blaster haphazardly; along the stock, down the barrel and around the grip. Nothing too thorough.

When done, he disposed of the handkerchief and gripped the blaster.

"I've never actually used a blaster before. But I'll certainly give it a shot. Lead the way, Mr...?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"Tigo," he said slowly, staring warily at the blaster in the Corellian's hands.

"I was thinking of calling you Fun Size but what's your real name?"

[Regan Valdis]

He rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't heard that one before. But business mode quickly kicked back in.

"Regan. Regan Valdis. Nice to meet you." He extended his free hand. From Corellia. I'm a businessman - trade mostly. Learnt everything I know from the old man. He runs the family business but I've lately been trying to set myself up. Been getting into the property market over the last year or so, and I'm trading a lot more in small vessel components these days, but I wanna try and move up to dealing in starships...

Many people have often said that when Regan Valdis gets into an extended ramble, the meaning and volume of the words sometimes cease to exist, and all that remains is the movement of his huge mouth.

"...but she wasn't old enough. But enough about me. What about you.

[Tigo Kimogila]

For a moment, he stood gawking at Regan and found himself half believing he had stepped into some sort of surreal dream. Whatever he'd said seemed to have slipped beyond Tigo's attention and he suddenly realised that he was standing there waiting for him to say something.

"Uh... I'm..."

He suddenly snapped out of his stupor. His face contorted into a picture of incredulity mixed with revulsion and he stepped back, turned away, and marched off down the hall towards the lift.

"I'm getting you the hell out of here, you crazy..."

His voice trailing off, Tigo wondered if he had just been hypnotised.

[Regan Valdis]

Regan jogged off after Tigo. He held the blaster rifle pointed at the duracrete floor with his finger off the trigger. They seemed to be moving towards the back of the detention block. Or the front. In all honesty Regan couldn't tell where the front or the back was since he'd never been in a detention block before.

"At least tell me what you do for a living.'

[Tigo Kimogila]

He pressed a button on a panel at the end of the corridor and turned to Regan.

"I operate with a band of like-minded colleagues, striking out against Nym and his followers in an effort to help the oppressed under his boot. We take from those that have and share with those that don't have."

He smiled at Regan and patted him on the shoulder.

"Think of us as an unofficial social service."

Behind him the lift doors opened and he stepped inside.

"Now let's just hope the guard I knocked out upstairs stays that way long enough for us to-"

There was a sudden piercing screech which sounded throughout the whole facility, echoing in the elevator shaft from floors above, and strings of red lights flashed all along the corridor before them.

"Never mind."

[Regan Valdis]

"Oh no! What have you done!?"

Regan thrust the blaster in the direction they had just came. the corridor was quite long with no branches before the security hub room at the end, yet he checked and checked the walls for any signs of movement.

"Quick, what do we do? Is it up or down? Or is this one of those fancy elevators that can go from side to side as well? Hurry up, make a decision. Oh god, I think they're coming."

He began bashing random buttons on the elevator panel. As luck would have it, he managed to hit the correct button and the doors slowly closed. But not before Regan managed to fire off a few desperate shots down the corridor as well as planting a melthole in the doors themselves. He then banged on the door.

"Help!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo siezed the arm in which Regan carried the blaster and yanked him away from the elevator doors, keeping the weapon pointed down.

"Will you calm down? Keep screaming like that and you're going to get us both killed. Now..."

Still holding Regan firm, he pushed the barrel of his blaster into the button marked L1. The elevator came to life with a low hum. He faced Regan and looked him in the...

"Who wears shades indoors?" he scoffed, and snatched the tinted glasses from his face. He threw them to the floor and held him close again, speaking quietly.

"Regan, I need you to listen carefully. You must be quiet and do exactly what I tell you to do. Understand?"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan backed up against the wall; so hard, his quest for safety amost scared him to death as the thud echoed up through the shaft. He only half-heard what Tigo was saying, but the gist of it soon worked through all the doomed scenarios running through his bewildered mind. He drew the blaster close to his chest, hugging it as if his life depended on it. He looked at Tigo with wide eyes and simply nodded his head.

A clang somewhere up above made his shudder.

"Oh no!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"Krast."

He stared up at the elevator ceiling. Regan babbled something about imminent death and he shushed him. In the brief moment of silence, he heard a distant clang. He raised his blaster and fired twice into a panel in the roof. Separated from its hinges, it fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Regan wailed.

"Regan, we need to get on the roof before the turbolift stops. Come here, I'll give you a boost."

He crouched and cupped his hands before him ready to support Regan's foot.

[Regan Valdis]

Without protest, Regan planted his shakey foot in Tigo's palm and scrambled up toward the open panel. He hoisted himself up into the elvator shaft. While he tried to shift his weight up by grabbing onto the large gears that operated the compartment, his legs below flailed around inside the elevator. Tigo ducked and weaved to avoid being smacked in the face by an expensive suede boot.

"I'm almost there..."

Suddenly his hand slipped and he almost fell back inside. But Tigo managed to support Regan on his shoulders and the merchant soon climbed on top of the elevator. He popped his head back inside.

"Need a hand?" he said with a nervous grin, presenting his arm in an over-elaborate fashion

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo hesitated a moment, with Regan being a slight man he envisioned him being pulled head-first through the narrow opening back into the elevator should he try to support his weight. However, Tigo noted, once the Corellian had been given something to do, his fear diminished a degree. He nodded.

"Okay, hold onto something up there."

He crouched, guaged the height of the ceiling, then jumped. He cleared a fair distance and managed to get one hand outside the elevator before he siezed Regan's outstretched arm with his other hand. For a second, he thought his fear had come true when Regan's body jerked violently, but he held fast and gave him enough time to find something to grab hold of on the elevator roof.

After a moment of stuggling and grunting, he found himself standing on the elevator roof alongside Regan(who suddenly realised he was standing on top of an ascending elevator and looked up with a sharp intake of breath). The lift slowed and they heard the muffled sound of an irate officer barking orders. He crouched down next to Regan and whispered into his ear.

"When this lift stops, I want you to start climbing the ladder behind you as fast as possible. Quick, holster your weapon."

[Regan Valdis]

Regan fumbled about with the blaster. The absence of a holster made the order somewhat difficult. There was a small clip on the blaster which Regan was able to secure to his trousers with. The blaster was moderately heavy, but his tight belt stopped it's weight from revealing his underwear.

The lift jolted to a halt. Without wasting any time, Regan jumped, clearing the first few steps of the ladder before grabbing hold and working his way up the dimly-lit shaft. The light from inside the elevator shone like a star in the jet-black vastness of space as he drifted away into the unknown. He assumed Tigo was right behind him but in all honesty, the last thing he was going to do was wait around for him.

[Tigo Kimogila]

An icy wind whistled through the elevator shaft, it stung his face and bit at his knuckles as he gripped each rung of the ladder. As they ascended, the dark consumed them and he was forced to guess how far from Regan he was based on the volume of his panting. His fancy boots tapped against the metal as he climbed. Below them, the elevator doors opened with a soft hiss. The tapping quickened.

There were voices, indiscernible, from the turbolift. Tigo's grip tightened and he pushed higher. Another chilling gust of wind and a moment of silence followed. Suddenly, they found themselves illuminated in a brilliant white spotlight; great stretching shadows splashed the grey elevator shaft.

"There they are," a voice cried out. "Blast 'em!"

One shot rang out, red light raced up through the grim shaft and exploded overhead. Then followed an entire barrage of angry red blaster bolts. Some damaged the ladder, melting the metal, while others ricochetted off the reinforced walls in a fantastic chorus of fizzing sound. Tigo pulled out his own blaster and with one hand still holding firm to the ladder, he leaned out into the abyss and fired. The first hit the turbolift roof and sent a shower of hot sparks onto the pirates. One of the men fell away and sent the spotlight veering off target.

"Keep going!" Tigo shouted, "When you come to a red light, feel for a lever and pull it."

His second shot struck a pirate in the chest and he collapsed in a smoking heap.

[Regan Valdis]

Regan battled gravity with all the strength he could summon. He never did enjoy the rock-climbing excursions his father took him on, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was the only reason he was able to withstand the current ordeal. He imagined his father, several hundred metres above him, shouting down words of encouragement.

That's it son - you're doing great. Mind you don't rip that jacket, it cost a fortune. And don't scuff your boots, they're one of a kind...well, two of a kind. The grips were custom-cast from solid dyatine!

He grit his teeth as he willed his body upwards. There was a gap in the ladder as it opened out onto a round panel. Regan reached up to grab the next section of the ladder when a hatch swooshed open before his very eyes. A growl leaped from the gloom, accompanied by the appearance of three malicious purple eyes.

As if his trial wasn't insurmountable enough, he was suddenly bathed in strikingly bright light as the exterior doors on the opposite side of the shaft suddenly opened to reveal three pirates with blasters in hand. They took aim at the merchant just as a shriek errupted from the guttural furnace of the clandestine creature before him. Acting quickly, Regan cupped the sides of the ladder and hooked his ankles round the sides as well, then slid down a metre or two just as the monstrous entity lunged at his throat.

The pirates screamed as the unmentionable thing soared across the chasm and through the open doors. They slammed shut, muffling the screams from the other side. With a quick sigh of relief, Regan resumed his ascent. Some fifty feet above, he spied the red light Tigo mentioned.

"Almost there!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

A second pirate fell in the turbolift and Tigo saw his feet disappear as his body was dragged away. He turned and scurried up the ladder, gaining on Regan quickly. As the gap between them closed, he chanced a glance down the shaft to find that the turbolift was now packed full of armed pirates but not one of them opened fire. Then he heard a faint whooshing sound.

"Sithspit! We have to move!" he cried out.

He found himself at Regan's boots, scrambling franticly for each next rung before it became available. Sure enough, the turbolift sprung to life with an eerie hum and its repulsion field cast a cold blue glow on the walls on its ascent. He looked down again and already the turbolift had picked up some speed - it would be upon them in seconds.

"You ready to become a whole lot shorter, Fun Size?"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan's eyes darted down to Tigo against a backdrop of certain doom as the elevator grew closer and closer with every passing second.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Throwing caution to the wind, with the fear of falling to a painful death dissolving with the imminent clash of the repulsorlift cabin, Regan began leaping up the ladder like some sort of mutant businessman-space-monkey, taking three or four rungs at a time until he was within reach of the red light and the currently hidden lever. Regan began feeling for it like some sort of blind mutant businessman-space-monkey.

"How much time do we have?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"Oh, about one... or two... seconds," he said between heavy pants.

Tigo felt helpless stuck on the ladder beneath Regan who was busy flailing about in the dark. He looked down, the turbolift rushed at them with a syren's wail and collision was imminent. He closed his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a a loud creak and a hiss. Fresh light filled the elevator shaft as a pair of hefty security blast doors parted just above Regan. Not wasting a moment, Tigo dashed up the ladder and followed the Corellian into the blazing white corridor. Just as his foot crossed the threshold, the turbolift rushed past and losing his balance, Tigo fell backwards and crashed to the ground.

He chuckled, "Jeez! That was close. Good work!"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan sat on the floor, legs akimbo, leaning backwards on his hands. He stared at an obscure point on the floor with his mouth open slightly, wearing a look of bewilderment across his slightly annoyed face.

"I didn't do a damn thing! I don't get it!? It just opened."

He stood up and began dusting himself off.

"Must be our lucky day!"

Gripping the blaster that was still secured to his belt, Regan took in the new surroundings for anything suspicious. The corridor was well-lit, so the likelyhood of anything jumping out at him was pretty low, but you never can be too careful. He pointed the blaster rifle at corners, alcoves - anything he didn't like the look of. Once he was satisfied they were relatively safe, he leaned back against the wall.

"It won't take them too long to figure out what happened to us. Do you know where this corridor leads to?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"Not a clue," Tigo said, scrambling to his feet. "Let's go!"

He pulled out his blaster and sprinted off.

[Regan Valdis]

Regan stood upright, wearing a stupidly flabbergasted look while staring at the spot where Tigo had stood just a second ago. Shaking his head, Regan sighed with frustration before running after him.

Turning a corner, Regan glimpsed Tigo's form darting around a corner up ahead.

"Wait up you damn lunatic!"

Willing his legs to carry him faster than they actually could was futile, but Regan spurred on nevertheless. The corridors winded and dipped, weaved and climbed until Regan finally came to a stop. His loud, fast panting was the only company in the bright corridor. His breathing slowed and lowered to silence as the full horror of his current predicament dawned on him.

He was lost.

"Oh dear God!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo stood pressed against a wall just around the corner from where he heard footsteps racing in his direction. He held his blaster aloft, looking down the corridor and waited for Regan to catch up. If he had his bearings correct, all he and Fun Size would have to do was turn left at the end of the corridor, and somewhere long the next passage there should be a window through which they can both escape. The footsteps and sound of panting turned the corner and Tigo's grin faded. Before him stood an armed guard, he froze.

"You're not Fun Size!"

He shot him in the chest and darted off in the direction he had just came.

"Regan!" he called, "Regan?"

[Regan Valdis]

A shot rang out somewhere down the empty corridors. His cold surroundings seemed to close in on him. His breathing began to grow heavy and erratic as he quickly glanced up and down the menacing gauntlet he found himself in. Alone with his blaster, he swallowed hard as he approached the corner he had just arrived by.

Though that corridor was empty as well, he found that it only led to more corridors that led off like river tributaries in each direction. Spaghetti junction indeed!

Suddenly a large metal blast door bordered by alternating black and yellow caution lines began to screetch open to reveal darkness.

"Ahhhhhh!!!"

Regan took off once more down the corridor and, hopefully, the way he came.

A mouse droid appeared from in between the blast doors.

[Tigo Kimogila]

After avoiding a rush of guards by hiding in a supply room, Tigo darted off the way they came and found himself in the security wing. He peered into a room through a panel of plexiglass, three of its walls comprised of viewscreens. The man sat at the console seemed preoccupied, he fumbled with controls and barked out orders into the com-system. Then he froze. He leaned forward and stared fixated with one of the screens.

"Oh, shag!"

On the viewscreen was an image of Tigo stood in the corridor outside the room. He looked up, and gave the security cam a scathing look before charging into the room. The large officer rose out of his seat and siezed the blaster at his hip. Tigo cracked his weapon across the officer's head and he fell back into his seat unconcious.

"Come on, Regan, where are you? Where did you- Ah!"

On a screen to his right, he caught a glimpse of the little Corellian dashing down a corridor and out of sight. On another screen, Tigo brought up a blueprint of the facility. On a third screen, he saw a patrol walk by at the end of a long passage. Then Regan suddenly appeared on that screen, running in their direction. Suddenly frantic, Tigo fidgeted with controls and buttons, and then he saw a mic protruding from the console. He smashed the button next to it and cried out.

"STOP!"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan's boots screetched on the glossy floor as he came to an abrupt stop. The commanding voice instilled fear in his body, which started to tremble. Without waiting for further orders, Regan slowly fell to his knees, dropping the blaster onto the floor and raising his hands behind his head.

[Tigo Kimogila]

"No, no! Stand up!" he barked into the mic.

His eyes scanned the screens around him, he noticed one security guard stationed at another console stand up looking around quite perplexed. He glanced over the blueprints and activated the comm-system again.

"Go back. Take your first right then your third left, climb the stairs and turn... right. Okay? Go!"

[Regan Valdis]

Coming to his senses, the corellian jumped to his feet, scrambled for the blaster on the floor and took off running. As he turned right, a door down the corridor began to open. A blaster barrel loomed out of the doorway. Screaming like a maniac, Regan charged at the guard who looked truly horrified as the young merchant threw his body at the man, knocking him to the ground and out cold.

Soon, Regan was ascending the stairs three steps at a time. Once he triumphed, his breath heavy, he quickly burst towards the right turn he had been commanded to seek out. He found himself in a long corridor with several windows on the left. He approached them. It looked like a good escape. Hurried footsteps caused him to lower his posture and point the blaster in the direction of the sound.

Regan breathed a sigh of relief as Tigo rounded the corner.

"Have you finished messing around? I'd really like to get out of this place!"

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo raised his blaster arm to the right, maintained eye contact with Regan, and fired. The blast blew the window out in an explosion of shattered glass. He smirked when Regan winced.

"What are you waiting for then?"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan peered out of the gaping window and looked down below. It was quite a high drop and there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to...

"Aaaaah!!!!"

The shove came quite unexpectedly and before he knew it, the floor was rushing up at him. As luck would have it, a pile of debris and junk had arranged itself against the wall in a sort of arching slope that eased the slide down to the floor. Rubbing his backside as he stood up, Tigo appeared above, quickly sliding down like a professional ... person who jumps out of windows and ... slides to safety for a living ... thing!

Yeah, anyway...

"That wasn't very polite!"

Regan spied a chain-link fence separating them from the open wilds of Lok.

"Do you have a plan as to where the hell we're going to go? I'm new to this planet and haven't the foggiest idea of what's where."

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo crouched and grabbed Regan by the shoulder, dragging him down into a crouching position alongside him. His eyes were narrow and scanned their surroundings; rooftops, barricades, and streets. Below them, armed men charged out of the detention facility and dispersed amongst the few remaining market stalls.

"Good, we haven't been spotted."

He rose into a cautious stoop and Regan immitated him. He spoke quietly into his ear.

"It's late so we need transport. There's a garage over in that direction. Once we're out, don't worry, I know these parts well. Alright?"

[Regan Valdis]

Regan nodded as they edged towards the garage, being careful to use whatever cover was available. Ducking behind crates and large rusty garbage crushers allowed them to sneak right into the garage via a small hatch in the side wall, despite three guards patrolling the yard. Tigo seemed to have things sized up as they approached a speeder when Regan suddenly tugged on his jacket.

"My ship! I can't just abandon it! It's one of a kind! It's my home, it's my livelihood! We've got to try and take it back!" His eyes pleaded even as one of the guards approached the garage doors.

[Tigo Kimogila]

The guard stopped abruptly and looked around. Tigo yanked Regan down behind the speeder. They crouched in silence, a spotlight roamed the back of the garage, and after a moment it disappeared. The guards footsteps faded.

"We can't get your ship now," Tigo whispered, "Security is too tight. We need to get away first and plan how to get your ship later. Besides, I know people who can help."

[Regan Valdis]

Regan sighed.

"Fine, but understand this! If anything happens to that ship..."

His fists began to clench as his eyes took on a menacing glare that didn't quite work.

"...I'll have the finest lawyers in the galaxy on your back until I've been reimbursed every credit it's worth! You got that!?"

[Tigo Kimogila]

"I'll keep that in mind."

The tone in his voice betrayed his insincerity. He spied through a gap between a fuel tank and a rather suspect looking piece of machinery, he shifted his gaze to follow patrols, a pale grey speck of light bobbed on his cheek. His next words were too hushed to discern, he tapped Regan on the shoulder and scuttled out of sight. Silently, he mounted the speeder bike, and snapped a wire which ran from the control panel to the engine. He whispered over his shoulder.

"I drive, you shoot, okay?"

[Regan Valdis]

"Got it!"

No soon had Tigo spoken the words, and Regan was sat behind him facing the rear of the speeder. A small yet sturdy leather harness fixed to one side of his seat looped around his waist. He pulled on the strap to tighten it before fastening the clasp on the other side. A large detached, empty repulsor unit was parked next to them. A lone blaster rifle hung from the side on its strap. The barrel was much longer than the shoddy weapon he clung onto.

The repulsor engine wailed into a crescendo as they blasted out of the garage, flooring two of the guards. The ruckus caused a large group of reinforcements to storm out of the nearby warehouse. A tethanane cannister to the side of the door sat at the tip of the long barrel momentarily, before an amber blade rushed out into the light, like a beacon joining the two. The flash from the resulting explosion caused Regan to shield his eyes briefly.

As the pirates scrambled back to their feet, helping those who had landed awkwardly several feet away, Regan took another volley of five shots, taking down four more of the thugs and narrowly missing one. Though their numbers had been lightened, they were still many. They made for the other speeders and skiffs without hesitation. Regan leaned back, turning his head slightly, the roaring wind causing him to shout slightly.

"I don't think they were too happy about that."

A light show of red and orange seared passed them in retaliation.

[Tigo Kimogila]

The explosion bathed the marketplace in a seering glow, straggling punters and greedy merchants stared at the unfolding drama, their gnarled faces twisted with shock and fear. People scattered before the speeder bike and its pursuers, they took cover behind stalls, crates, and baskets, and those fortunate enough to have them darted into their homes. The agile speeder bike negotiated a clean route through the winding narrow roads, twisting gracefully at intersections, each time gaining distance from the convoy of skiffs and speeders. Tigo felt his insides bubble with the familiar thrill of the chase and even the wind whipping his face failed to supress his smile. The speeder bike banked elegantly to the left, turning them onto the next road and his smiling stopped.

"Oh, poodoo! Regan get down!"

The road was broad, straight, and long, behind them the manic pirates lined up their vehicles forming a single rank the width of the road and up ahead stood a blockade manned by armoured guards, their blaster rifles trained on the approaching target. Just beyond the blockade there was a fence and beyond that the cool, dark horizon where sand met the sky, freedom was a moment away and they had fallen into a trap. Tigo lurched forward, pressing his head against the control panel, his feet thrusted down upon the pedals and as the speeder screamed into maximum velocity, all he could do to avoid the oncoming fire was yank the maneuvering controls left and right. The street was aflame and angry red volleys rained down upon them.

[Regan Valdis]

The blasts shot past, but Regan was largely unaware. He failed to hear the warning as explosions and screams jumped out from the sorrounding market square as aliens dived for cover left and right. He'd managed to remain calm up to now, pouring all of his tension and fear into each squeeze of the trigger, releasing it into a torrent of energy that smacked down his pursuers one at a time. The desert skiff was down to just two men - the pilot and a single gunner, while the bikers giving chase were still strong in numbers.

Suddenly, another group swooped out of a nearby alley and onto the street. They joined with the others to converge on their rear.

"Uh-oh!"

He glanced behind him to see what it looked like up ahead. The blockade was approaching fast.

'Oh krast! Hang on a second. When I tell you, put her into full throttle!'

Regan began fumbling with the blaster rifle. He slipped the outer casing of the barrel away from the gas chamber, revealing the inner charging coils. There was a thin wire running from the gas chamber to the acceleration buffer. He yanked it out and threw it away before quickly sliding back the casing.

Straining his head around, he shouted into Tigo's ear as best as he could.

'Okay! When I say so - flick the repulsorfield to maximum and floor it!'

Regan leaned down, almost hanging off the speeder bike. He let the harness take as much of his weight as he dared; his head only a foot away from the gravel and dirt as it rushed by.

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo wondered what Regan expected of him; the speeder bike had already reached its top speed and the old chasis beneath them had started to rattle. He put all of his weight behind the steering, throwing the vehicle violently from side to side, avoiding as much of the relentless barrage as possible. The hot metal burnt his cheek but he kept low and behind them the chorus of roaring engines was suddenly pierced by a frightful screech. He looked under his arm in time to see one of the pursuing swoops veer off course and, taking another out with it, planted itself into the side of a house with a spectacular explosion.

"Now!"

The cry sneaked through the atrocious din and Tigo reacted immediately. First, he dislodged a chunk of protective plating from the side of the bike, exposing an underbelly of angry hissing mechanical organs, and he reached inside. There was a bright blue flash and out came an S-shaped piece of tubing that had a connector at one end which sparked and fizzed like a serpent. What followed was a blur for a blaster bolt tore through his shin and all of his attention was focused on not giving into the pain while he wrestled with the speeder bike. It lurched forward, engines wailing, and they charged the blockade and impending doom with terrible speed.

[Regan Valdis]

The burst of acceleration was so abrupt that it almost flung Regan to the floor had it not been for the harness. He reached back with his arm flailing behind like some insane wave goodbye to the pursuers. Then as he breathed sharply he pulled the trigger. No blaster bolt spewed forth. Regan swung his arm around and under the speeder, launching the blaster rifle several feet in front of them.

'Tigo, do it!'

A high-pitched pulse emitted from the underside of the vehicle just as Regan pulled himself back up. He barely had time to tighten his hands around the harness when the blaster exploded. The blast, though small, was enough to send a force up at the speeder bike as it passed over. The intense repulsorfield shielded them from the blast, but it was more than enough to send the speeder rocketing into the air, up and over the blockade. Dozens of pirates and thugs looked up in bewilderment as their catch of the day zoomed overhead, clearing the northern wall of the market and out into open country.

'Woohoo!!! It worked!'

Then came the chaotic landing. The uneven ground did not help, but thankfully the repulsorfield cushioned their drop. Regan almost slipped off the back, but clutched at Tigo's shoulder, almost taking him with him.

'That was close - almost tripped at the finish line.' he said with a grin.

[Tigo Kimogila]

Tigo clung to the handles and hugged the chasis with his knees to avoid being thrown off. His knuckles were white and his shin stung from the blaster wound. Regan's words were lost against the rush of wind that assaulted their bare skin and as the last errant flash of red light buried itself in the sand beneath them with an unremarkable thud they knew they were safe. Tigo squeezed the brakes.

Their bodies shuddered upon the rickety speeder bike; pushed beyond its limits, it struggled to stay in one piece while it blasted across the expansive desert. The sand swelled skywards before them and shortly, a great dune had risen in the dark, dwarfing the fast approaching riders. He tried to brake again but the speeder bike pushed relentlessly forward like an enraged bull, and cutting the power was no longer an option. He shouted something over his shoulder to Regan then lowered his head.

They reached the foot of the dune and the speeder bike jerked into a steep climb, its fighting engines cut a clean swath in the smooth surface of moonlit sand. Regan cried out and Tigo dared to glance over his shoulder. The sand was aglow in red and yellow and a long tail of smoke billowed behind them. He turned his head so that his lips were close to Regan's ear and shouted.

"We have to get off this thing! When I say 'Jump'..."

He turned suddenly, stunned to find the vehicle was level once more having reached the dune's summit. The sand was flat but only for a few meters and then it dropped out of sight into a vast darkness. There was no time for planning, the speeder was already at the precipice and just before it rocketed over the edge, Tigo was afforded a view of the sprawling black belly of the ancient Tunaki Water Basin. His cry echoed into the night.

"Jump!"

[Regan Valdis]

He didn't need to jump. The momentum of the speeder suddenyl dropping from beneath them was enough to strain the already torn harness to the point of no return. A faint slap sung out below the roar of the engine's whine as it fell down the side of the dune. Regan soon toppled backwards, his head narrowly missing the rear armor plate as he plunged into the sand. But the fun and games didn't end there.

He coughed and spluttered as he tumbled down the side of the dune like some insane desert demon whirling in a crazy dance ritual. The dune was strewn with rocks protruding from beneath. As he neared the bottom his topsy-turvy form failed to avoid a large boulder at the foot of the dune. His head cracked into the side of it, and soon the already dark sky began to bleed into itself, pulling a murky, watery curtain over his eyes.

As he lay in the sand against the boulder, the darkness seemed to burn away to reveal a dark sky now and again, only to swallow him up once more. He wasn't sure how long he lay there for. All he was certain of was the sound of dogs in the distance. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness as the barking and baying grew nearer. The last sensation before he lost total consciousness was a big wet tongue lapping at his nose.

[Tigo Kimogila]

When Tigo stirred, it was not the tough clay bed of the arid valley he felt against his scorched skin but the soft carress of cool bedsheets. He opened his eyes. The room was gloomy and sparce, a dim light buzzed overhead and the walls were made of coarse duracrete. The ceiling sloped and arched into low corners bolstered with thick durasteel columns. The metal framing supported every straight edge in the room, the floor of which had the shape of a perfect equilateral triangle. He was in one corner and lying on a bed in another corner was Regan.

Slowly, he sat up, every muscle protested and his hazy head rang. The last thing he remembered seeing was the speeder bike race past him then explode, this was the reason he was sooty and also explained why the hair on his forearms had been completely singed. His nostrils flared and his face twisted with apall, something reeked. He cast his gaze about to find the source of the odour. In the dim light, he noticed something on Regan's face, it glistened with a thick greasy paste. Upon further inspection, Tigo discovered his face was also covered in the stuff and it stuck to his finger in streaks of bright orange and dark brown. His revulsion was given a voice and with an angry string of expletives he darted for the sink.

It took five minutes to be completely rid of the offensive matter but the stench lingered. He glanced at the short Corellian, the crude substance had been striped across his skin. He grimaced and called out to him.

"Oi! Small Fry! Wake up!"