The Jawa's Errand

[Hobgoblin]

Jawas were a species slowly spreading throughout the galaxy. Though most eyewitness accounts and historical records place their planet of origin on Tatooine, many desert worlds and garbage planets now played home to their kind, including worlds such as Ryloth, Genon, and even Coruscant. The Jawa natural tendency to act as bargainers and scavengers, coupled with the survival abilities and traits they had developed to endure harsh climates, meant that their kind could now be found in odd locations for strange reasons.

Ylesia, for example.

There was little to no reason a Jawa would be on Ylesia. The planet lay in Hutt Space, dominated in authority by a religious cult of spice processors and the Hutt clans that financially supported them. Little technology could be scavenged from the area without alerting the cult authorities and bringing unwanted attention. Ylesia was also fairly tropical, the humid air being the exact opposite of the type favored by Jawas. And of course, there was nowhere to bargain or arrange for anything.

Well, almost nowhere.

In fact, almost nowhere was exactly where this particular Jawa was.

Almost nowhere in this case was a market street in Garoon, one of the very few port towns that presented a legitimate face to the galaxy at large and was mostly full of fairly run businesses as a result. A place where you could find honest people down on their luck and willing to take the oddest of odd jobs to make ends meet. Such was this particular Jawa's mission. He had a message to deliver, a hook, as it were. The message spoke of an errand, and the promise of payment in the form of free travel away from the planet once the errand was done. All that remained, was the delivery.

The Jawa needed to find someone who had the right air of desperation and honesty. Fortunately, the species had been gifted with an extremely good sense of smell. It was not long before the Jawa delivered his message in an "accidental" fashion to the pocket of a dark-haired woman aimlessly travelling the market street.

[Harlequin]

It had only been a matter of days since Alex had parted company with Fidavar Veir (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=18820) but it felt like a millenia when compared to traipsing around Ylesia, as she had been.

Once again, she found herself on her own, her quest to find the Jedi proving as elusive a goal as one could ever fear to set upon.

Her humor was sour. Even an optimistic outlook would be hard pressed to see any progress whatever in her endeavour and the wayward Jedi began to dispair.

Her meeting with Mu Satach had offered such hope, but a hastey departure from Cloud City with Barton Henning and their subsequent separation had left Coal floundering, without direction.

Assisted in her travels here and there, most notably by one of the Veir brothers, Fidavar, whom Harlequin had met unexpectedly, she found herself farther from her point of origin, but no closer to the prize.

Ylesia. Tropical heat prickled at her skin, making her irritable. And the stench! The place had an odd odor to it - probably all the Reek that populated the planet. How appropriately named they were.

And then she had annoying little dwawbs like Jawa clamoring about her, waving parts and peices of droids and other scavanged miscellania in her face for her to consider purchasing. She outta just put a laser bolt in all of 'em and give herself a moments peace.

"Watch where you're goin' ya little runt!" Alex groused meanly as one particularly forward Jawa pressed his person to her attention, little hands grabbing and pushing at the same time. She smacked him soundly on the back of the head and sent him on his way. "Get outta here, creep"

It would have been some concern to her should she have something worthy in her pockets of picking, but such was not the case. Her fortunes had not improved any since parting company with Fidavar. Her pockets were empty. Her hands followed on autopilot to her thoughts and Alex sent searching fingers to forray through the folds of her clothing, not really knowing why she did so - she knew there was nothing in them.

Except a fold of paper. Harlequin pulled it from its confines and cast about her for the Jawa that must have put it there. He was long gone, and she was not surprised at that.

Her feet came to a halt as she looked at the piece of paper, innocuous and annoyingly grubby. Alex stood in the middle of the market square, dozens of beings thronging around her, and the galaxy as she knew it stood still.

[Hobgoblin]

The note, written in smudgy Basic Common with a strangely elegant handwriting style, read as follows:

Greetings:

Need the services of a human negotiator, I do. Items from Ithor, retrieved must be. No money to pay, have I. However, free transport to and from Ithor, you shall have. Once complete, free transport to another planet of your choice, payment shall be.

If find yourself in need of transport you do and agree to these terms, you will, come to the small cafe by the Garoon starport between 2 and 3 pm.

Do this, and know that the Force will be with you,
Hob

[Harlequin]

The last line shot out at her like a bolt from heaven.


"Do this, and know that the Force will be with you"


Alex crushed the paper into her hand and looked about her sharply. North, South, East, West - no one appeared to have any particular interest in her at all, and she felt the stab of sudden panic that had come from reading so blatant a phrase, ease. What a bloody dangerous thing to write! Who would make such a play? In times such as these, the Empire awash with anti-Jedi and force-aphobes, such a statement was tempting disaster. And her the one standing like a struck gungan waiting for the hammer to fall. This thought spurred Alex to resume moving again and she started off at a brisk pace, mingling into the thick crowd.

Who was Hob? Harlequin cast her mind in a wide net to all her most recent associates and found no recollection. Broadening the recall, she pictured members of the Academy where she had started years ago as one in a class of child Padawans to Jedi Master Figrin D'an. Again, no recollection of anyone named or referred to as Hob. Maybe it was code...? Would Barton send her such a missive? Reverse the B and H in Hob and maybe...

Alex furtively unrumpled the paper and read it once more. No, not from Henning. The message, although half backwards, was clear enough - why goof with the name? It served no point. Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Garoon Starport between 2 and 3"


Harlequin stopped at a market vendor and asked directions to the Starport and, given the directions, finally, after having to INSIST she did not want to buy any Rancor skin luggage, started out at a hastened pace. It was a long way by foot and she had only two or so hours to get there, so she might meet this "Hob."

[Hobgoblin]

The Garoon starport, if it could be called that, lay on the outskirts of Garoon itself, making landfall on the miserable corruption of a planet deliberately out of the way. Arriving traffic notwithstanding, none of the authorities were particularly interested in visitors getting a good eyefull of everything going on. Even the Hutts knew better than to look too closely at the operations here. Those who didn't know better often found themselves with more knowledge of the operation than they might have imagined to begin with.

This, of course, helped the small crowd of Jawa sitting around a single table in the open-air cafe eatery because no one particularly cared to disturb them for want of drawing attention. Yet another link in a long, delicate chain maintained by the iron of people's fears.

One Jawa, slightly taller than most, sat alone and silent at a table in the midst of his ardently chittering fellows. A single seat remained open across the table from him; next to him lay a small stack of grimy paper and a writing utensil. As soon as Alex walked into view, his head started following her as though he entirely expected her to be here. One of his fellows noticed and said something in the curious language of Jawaese, causing all the members of the small group to turn and start tracking her movements with their heads.

[Harlequin]

Harlequin was tired. And footsore. But if she felt it, she refused to give in to it. Such had been her experience since setting out on her personal little quest that it barely registered with her anymore, let alone computed out in a physical appearance of fatigue. It was second nature now-a-days for her to look frayed and more than a tad dusty and despite it, she seemed stronger, rather than weaker because of it.

Feeling the beady little eyes of the Jawa's on her, Alex started to approach them intending to bully them out of some information. However, the cool appraisal of a loan hooded member of their company seated slightly apart from them drew her attention. Quick to note the paper, similar if not the same as the peice crumpled in her pocket, Coal veered deliberately and stood aside the empty chair so that she stared down at him.

"You the one with the fancy penmanship?" she asked dryly.

[Hobgoblin]

The lead Jawa seemed puzzled by her question. Lead turned to another Jawa who spoke rapidly in Jawaese. Lead spoke in a questioning tone, received a response, then turned back to Alex.

"No. You help?" he replied in barely understandable Common. The other members of the Jawa troop began to chatter to each other in a low buzz, but a look from their leader silenced them.

[Harlequin]

Alex looked at the chattering Jawas, too, and scowled before turing back to the Lead fellow.

"Maybe"

Clearly, she was distrustful.

"Where's the guy who wrote the note?" she said grudgingly, "The note said free transport"

[Hobgoblin]

Lead immediately responded with a question. However, he did so in Jawaese. Number Two piped up, and he and Lead had a brief conversation. A third Jawa piped up, followed by all his fellows, and Two started to try and shout them down as though he were explaining something to all of them. This discourse ran for about half a minute, until Lead barked something and all the other Jawa fell silent. He posed a question to Two, who answered him, and Lead tilted his head as though he half understood the answer.

"Not freeeeee?" It was clear from the half-question that the word 'free' was a troublesome thing to say and to understand. "Trade. You help? Show ship. Human pilot. You help?"

[Harlequin]

"Fine...Trade, not free, if you want to quibble terms"

Coal craned her head to look around the space port, meagre as it was.

"Which is your crate?" she asked unimpressed by what she saw. "And this human pilot..is he Hob?"

[Hobgoblin]

Lead just shrugged. "Not know. Gave note. We see ship now."

With that he hopped out of his chair and began striding off towards the far end of the port. Two issued what sounded like orders and a pair of Jawas collected the paper and writing utensil from Lead's table. With furtive glances at the very tall, moderately imposing female, they scuttled after their leader.

With little other viable options in front of her, Alex stood and followed the motley troop. As dismal as the prospect seemed, the chance that she might find her path following them offered more for her to do than she'd had so far.

Which was why, after finally reaching the berth where the Jawa's were going, she had to pause on seeing the ship.

The starcraft itself was a YV-666 freighter (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/YV-666_light_freighter). While the ship didn't gleam in the sun per se, it was clearly a well-maintained craft especially for its size. There were a few visible weapons on the craft, most notably a large ion cannon mounted on the bottom hull, but it was clear that the vessel itself was not an attack craft.

An open loading ramp extended from the bottom hull to the ground, and the Jawa troop headed straight for it. As they reached the ramp, Lead paused and beckoned to the still-staring Alex. "Come!" he called, then turned and followed his fellows in.

By the time Alex had reached the ramp, the Jawa troop was no longer in sight. She picked up her pace to try and catch them, passing through a cargo area filled with containers labelled as foodstuffs, to a med bay and various passenger quarters, up a flight of stairs to the second deck, and finally down the hallway. She didn't see the troop anywhere, but inside the cockpit she could clearly make out someone dozing in the pilot's chair. She slowed her pace, taking in the figure as she approached. He was definitely an older humanoid male, with distinctly gray hair and beard. Exactly how old he was was hard to tell, but there was no mistaking that he was at least 60, if not older. In spite of his age, however, he still appeared strong and hale, and his fingers were the rough, calloused hands of manual laborer.

Suddenly, the man spoke. "Watch people in their sleep much?"

[Harlequin]

"I thought you were dead, actually" Alex tossed at him, he'd cracked one eye open and was looking at her askance. "Was wondering if it'd be worth riffling through your pockets"

She turned and looked about the cockpit, openly appraising it, yet reserving judgement on it.

"You the Capt'n then?"

[Hobgoblin]

"Aye." The man rose and took a look at the intruder. "Gonna guess you've met the Jawas or you wouldn't be here. They seem to have a nose for good folk, so I suppose I can trust you for now. Name's Desi Garood. What's yours?"

[Harlequin]

She appeared unimpressed by his vote of confidence.

"Harlequin" she answered, and added by way of elaboration, "I got a note from Hob...I take it you're not him?"

[Hobgoblin]

"Hired help is all I am, Miss," Desi shrugged. "I'm a cargo hauler of foodstuffs by trade, so t'aint no bother to haul some passengers too. Originally outta Ukio, but these days I'm all over the place."

Desi looked Harlequin up and down. "I take it you agreed to the Jawa's deal?"

[Harlequin]

Agreed? Well, she guess she had. She was here wasn't she?

"Looks like" she said, relinquishing some of her brittle edge, "Though Im not exactly sure whats expected. The note said something about negotiating..." She gave a glum look, "Im not exactly known for my tact in matters of any delicacy.." she allowed the rest of the thought to hang. Desi was sure to get her drift.

[Hobgoblin]

Desi laughed, a surprisingly cheerful sound. "Harley, wasn't it? Yeah, I've helped Hob before. If I know him, you probably don't have much to worry about. He's probably got everything all arranged and all you have to do is say what needs to be said- jump through hoops as it were. Dunno how he does it."

One hand gestured back the way Harlequin had come. "I'll show you around the ship a bit if you like? Your quarters, kitchen, medbay, all that good stuff."

[Harlequin]

No one had ever called her Harley before...And Alex decided she liked it.

This Desi character might be alright afterall, she mused. Especially if he has a well stocked kitchen.

"Sure, lead the way. Why dont we start where the food is?" she said, displaying aforementioned lack of tact.

[Hobgoblin]

Desi laughed again. "To the point. I like that. Eaten anything lately other th'n boiled shoes?"

Harley's grimace spoke volumes.

After another laugh, the pilot led the way back down the cabin corridor. "This is my ship, Gullycrawler. Call 'er Gull for short. Had 'er for forty years, since my dad died. She's got some teeth and can hold 'er ground against pirates and other pests. Mostly use 'er for salvage runs or cargo hauling. It's a solo life, but I make a good living."

Desi paused at the top of the stairway leading down. "Least it used to be solo," he chuckled. "The galaxy's found me in some strange company recently."

He started walking again. From down below, scurrying sounds of Jawa feet could be heard. "Have to say I wasn't expecting the Jawas, but in a funny way they're good company. Keep to themselves (though I hear that's unusual), don't wreck things (strange too), and don't eat me out of all m' food."

Desi shot the woman a curious eye as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "You're a mighty attractive young pup, I gotta say. What's a lass like you doing on Ylesia of all places?"

[Harlequin]

"Seeking my fame and fortune" she answered, deadpan. Opening a cupboard, she lay hold of a packet of salted snacks and broke the seal, spilling some into the palm of her hand. "I love these" she said, munching.

"The Jawa's know a good thing when they get it" Alex observed of Desi's companions while continuing to forrage. "They have an eye for the useful and a nose for a bargain" she found some fresh vegetables, "And seems to me you are both. They could do a great deal worse. You got rice? I make a good stirfry, if youre hungry"

[Hobgoblin]

Desi frowned thoughtfully. "Can't say I really know. I can grow 'em for sure, but most of the vegetables and other stuff we have at the moment aren't mine. I'll nose around a bit though."

With that, her human companion swiftly departed the room. Harlequin continued to rummage, finding most of the other ingredients for a stirfry readily at hand.

In Desi's absence, the Jawas seemed mesmerized by her activity. Rather than wander around, poking into things as was their nature, Harley's every action seemed to be the most fascinating thing in the world to them. It would have been creepy, if they didn't give the impression of entirely harmless critters to begin with.

Suddenly, it struck her that the lead Jawa wasn't with them. Before she could wonder where he was, he answered the question by entering the kitchen. In one large mitten, he held a neatly folded piece of paper. "For you," he stated plainly and set the note on the counter.

Lead's companions suddenly started chattering loudly, causing him to issue a short, barking response. They settled into a low murmuring, and a couple of them left the room, apparently no longer interested in the going's on.

The note, when opened, was written in the same flowing script as the first one she'd gotten and read as follows.

Greetings:

To you who agreed to help, I give thanks. A rare thing your kindness is. Not able to speak directly am I, not yet. When free to speak am I, much to discuss there is. However, honest I must be. If not your way assisting Jedi is, leave now you should. Much danger ahead there is.

Hob

[Harlequin]

Alex re-read the note a time more - Hob's way of writing left a bit to be disired in the crystal-clear department - then looked up at Lead, wondering just how much the Jawa knew of things. It was dangerous to refer so openly to the Jedi, Hob clearly trusted these dubious Jawa companions.



Desi reappeared waving a package of brown rice and grinning, pleased at his success, "Look what I found"

Coal took the package with one hand, while quickly pushing the note into her pants-pocket with the other. "Good one" she said to Desi and turned a uncertain eye away from Lead.

Reaching for a pot and filling it with water, she asked the elder pilot, "What do you know about our purpose once we reach our destination?"

[Hobgoblin]

"Can't say I know much," Desi shrugged. "Just supposed to pick up some things from some plant merchant, or so the instructions said. I really don't know if there's some ulterior motive or secret meeting going on or anything."

Desi gestured back at the way he'd come. "Speaking of which, I'll go get us clearance to leave so we can get to Ithor as quick as possible. Don't imagine you want to stick around here any longer than need be."

The pilot was gone before Harlequin could do more than nod. She busied herself with the task of cooking, and about five minutes later she felt the gentle lurch of the craft as began to climb into the atmosphere. Then the repulsors kicked in along with the internal gravity and only the illusion of movement existed. Desi found his way back to the kitchen not long after. "We're in hyperspace. It's about a ten-hour jump to Ithor, so you may want to get some rest after eating. I've got quarters all prepped for you. You had a bed to sleep in recently?"

[Harlequin]

Oooooh, the thought of a comfortable bed..

"Whatever you got, Im sure will be fine"

She didn't elaborate on where she'd been sleeping of late and Desi didn't fail to notice it. Alex was tight-lipped about most everything - in this galaxy, saying too much'll get ya killed quicker than cheating a Wookie at cards.

"Foods' up" she said, lifting the pan with its contents still sizzling, from off the burner.

"I hope you like spice" she said with a ghosted smile.

Alex was curious about Desi, about where his allegiences may lie with the Jedi, but to ask him outright was not an easy thing. Maybe when they were further from Ylesia she would press him on it, where, seizing the Gull could be done in the more solitary regions of space - should his answers not be what she thought they should.

[Hobgoblin]

Desi scoffed. "Lady, I've eaten spices that'll make your hair curl. My dad used to say that if there was one thing I was good at, it was eating."

She offered him a plate of her creation and he took it, the Jawa in the room all looking on expectantly. If the steam rising from the plate was any indication, it certainly smelled delicious. He took a bite and chewed it.

"Whuuuufff," he said, not quite choking. "That's pretty good."

He took another bite and, to his credit, didn't react to the dish on the second bite. No coughs, no choking, no eyes watering over - whatever Harlequin may have thought about Desi's honesty, he had at least told her the truth about his fondness for food.

Chewing happily, he turned and regarded her. "I've got a medbay on this deck, plus a workout room right next to it," he added. "While you're staying on the ship, feel free to use the facilities. Your bedroom is a few doors down. There's a couple of locked areas on the ship and I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't go snooping. Especially, any of the guest bedrooms that are locked. My passengers," here his eyes slid to the Jawas "have asked for privacy."

Taking another tasty bite, Desi found a chair and began to relax. "You ever been to Ithor?"

[Harlequin]

Alex shook her head, her mouth too full to answer immediately.

Swallowing, she plied her fork into the rice for the next scoop as she replied, "Nah. Spent some time on Bespin and before that, quite a while on Tattooine. Too long, actually. I'd say, from reputation, Ithor is a nicer place to visit than that sandbox." Clearly, Coal had not appreciated the dessert-scape at all.

"Why'dyou ask?"

[Hobgoblin]

"It is and it isn't." Desi hedged. "On the one hand, you've got some absolutely beautiful scenery."

Here he stopped and ate a few bites of food. His cheery expression had all but evaporated. It took Harlequin prompting him with "And?" before he continued.

"On the other hand, you've got the Empire."

"Duh?"

"Don't sass me," Desi grunted. "I can't leave the docking bay. My travel is restricted on Imperial worlds."

"Why?" The question was offhand, but Desi didn't answer. Harley asked again. "Hello? Why can't you leave the ship."

"None of your business." Desi frowned blackly. "Just don't go screwing up out there, because if you do..."

Harley frowned at the implication. "What about the Jawas? They aren't coming?"

At this, Desi turned and set the dinner plate on the table. He stared Harlequin directly in the eye. "Lady, I hope you're fakin that question. The Imps at Ithor barely tolerate the Ithorians, but they leave 'em be because they're peaceful and don't do much. If the Jawas so much as stepped foot out of the landing bay, there'd be trouble of the 'we all get locked up' kind."

Here, Desi looked at the small troop of aliens, who seemed particularly out of place and helpless in that moment. "The Jawas know they're confined to the ship. You're on your own out there 'til you get back."

Here, the old pilot eyed her up and down. "Fortunately, you're not likely to hit much trouble lookin like you do. 'cept if some Imp officer decides to get friendly."

[Harlequin]

"So Ill be goin it alone again. Whats new" she stated flatly, forking in another mouthful.

"You wont have to worry about me and the Imps though. I've steered clear of them all this time and I dont intend to start somethin' now. No one will know you're here, not from me"

She pushed her plate away, nothing left in it.

"They kill your family or something..?" she asked with an abruptness that bordered on beligerent, though this wasnt the intention. Alex just wasnt very good with diplomacy. Desi had piqued her curiousity with his close to the vest manner.

[Hobgoblin]

Desi deliberately picked the plate back up and began eating again, making it clear he had clammed up on the subject. "Gotta watch what you say in this galaxy," was his only comment.

He finished his meal and collected the empty plates, leaving them in a dishwasher for the moment. "Dunno why Hob picked you," he muttered, as he did minor cleaning. "You've got all the sense of a fruitbat. Can't tell which is worse some days, Jedi or the Empire."

[Harlequin]

"I'm not the one who cant show my face in Ithor - sounds like you could learn some things from a fruit bat"

Alex got up from where she sat and exited the eating area, the sourness of her retort hanging in the air.

"Which quarters are mine?" she called out, her voice trayling out behind her as she moved farther from where Desi was in search of a bed.

[Hobgoblin]

"Last door on the right!" Desi's holler chased her down the hall. "And don't you go into any of the locked rooms either!" Then he clammed up with a solid grump.

It truly befuddled him how quickly his day had turned topsy turvy. Less than an hour ago he was relaxing in his ship; now he was arguing in it.

Some days, he really did wonder why he'd thrown his lot in with the Jedi. Not so much because he thought he could come to terms with the Empire, but more because he really couldn't fathom why they were any better.

Then again, he only barely remembered the Purge. It had all happened so long ago. His only recollection was that things were happier when he was young.

With a sigh, he went back to cleaning.


######

Meanwhile, all the doors in the corridor with the sleeping quarters were locked except one, which stood open in contrast to its fellows. The lights were off and only dim shapes could be made out inside.

The door was on the far left of the corridor.

[Harlequin]

The last door on the right was locked. Alex looked back for Desi to check he had meant right, not left, but she couldn't see him from this far down and at this straight angle.

The door of the quarters to the left was open and it looked unoccupied. Alex stepped inside and made directly for the bunk, pressing on the matress with both hands to test for comfort. It would do. Sitting, she bent foward to unlace her boots and, kicking them off, stretched herself out along its length.

[Hobgoblin]

The sound of scurrying footsteps echoed in from the outside hall. The steps stopped just short of the door, the sound of someone intending to enter but sensing something amiss before doing so.

Then a head poked around the frame of the door. With the lights in the room off, it was difficult to make out the features of the visitor, but for one detail: a pair of eyes that almost-glowed in the dark.

The figure tilted its head and regarded Harley. "Hm!" it said.

[Harlequin]

The scurrying had alerted her, pulling her guard up just shy of drifting within the realm of relaxing.

Startled by two beady eyes looking directly at her, Alex shot for her discarded boot and, snatching it up, flung it seconds too late to hit anything but the empty doorway and sail on through to clang loudly against the corridor wall opposite.

"What the..?"

[Hobgoblin]

The scurrying steps moved back the way they had come. From the opposite direction, moving quickly, came a pair of far heavier footfalls. They paused, then Desi moved into view as he picked up Harley's boot. "This isn't your room," he said darkly. "I said you were bunking in the room on the right."

He stepped over to the doorway. "Out," he said and hit the light switch.

And then a new world suddenly revealed itself.

The room was filled with plants. Plants of all shapes and sizes sat around the room in pots and trays; tall, thin, fat, short, prickly, hedged, viney, glowing, plain green, or a robust rainbow of color. They were clearly representative of some of the most stunning species the galaxy had to offer. Even their arrangement throughout the room seemed to enhance the beauty and wonder of it. Somehow, some elusive sense of harmony was echoed by the placement of each plant, and a soothing sort of goodness pervaded it all.

Here and there lay an odd object - seemingly a personal effect or two - and perhaps the most telling item of all was a set of Jawa robes and a breather mask that sat on a nearby chair. The room was seemingly one of the Jawa's rooms and yet the belongings in it so antithetical to Jawa reputation as scavengers of technology and motorized goods.

Yet another piece to the odd puzzle Harlequin had become wrapped up in.

[Harlequin]

Alex scooped up her one boot indignantly and marched out of the room.

It was bizare if you asked her, plants like that all over the place. Desi had some strange ideas of boarders on this barge of his.

"You got rats" she said, pushing passed Desi in a grouch. She scooped up the second boot from the corridor floor.

"All these doors are locked. You mind telling me which one EXACTLY is my room?"

Harlequin looked aft down the hallway, seeking signs of the creature that, quite probably, called that jumple of botanics its room.

[Hobgoblin]

Beyond Desi, the hallway stood empty, dim, and silent. Not even the sound of scurrying Jawas echoed from the kitchen area.

Desi calmly walked to the room opposite the open one and punched in an unlocking code. "I called out that the code to unlock it was 342#," he explained. "But I guess you were out of earshot by then."

The door slid open and the lights turned on to reveal a room whose furnishings had a slightly feminine touch to them. No bubblegum pink or gaudy pictures adorned the walls, but a genuine bed did sit in the center of the room with a quiet floral print quilt. "It was my mother's, before she passed away," he said quietly. "I thought you might like a real bed instead of a cot or somesuch."

[Harlequin]

A nondescript shrug and Alex stepped through the threshold. A real bed...oooh so nice...but Desi didn't need to know how spoilt she felt. In fact, she felt a little shamed that he had repayed her rudeness with such thoughtfulness on her behalf.

"It'll be fine," she said then added quietly, revealing a softer side, "..thanks."

Angling so Desi could not see her, she withdrew a small knife from her waistband and slipped it under the pillow - should that critter, whatever it was, come capering into her room while she slept, she'd give him a little prick with it for his trouble.

[Hobgoblin]

From his position in the doorway, Desi wasn't really paying attention. Instead, he was staring at his feet, wishing he were a better person. "Harley," he started. "I'm sorry for what I said. I get a little edgy sometimes and don't talk to people much, so I screw up bad. I'll ring your room with a wake-up chime when we're close to landing at Ithor."

He began to leave the doorway, then hesitated, "I hope you have a pleasant sleep."

With that he closed the door and left his guest to her own devices. Ithor was coming up and they would need the rest.

[Harlequin]

The Gully Crawler entered the Ottega System at 0028 hrs standard time and a bell sounded on the nightstand just left of Alex's head.

Groggy, Harlequin roused herself from a leaden sleep and swung her feet out of the covers and over the side of the bed, bringing her to a sitting position.

She had to think for a moment as to where she was, but the newness of the quarters surrounding her quickly jogged her thoughts and realised that the chime was Desi's notification that they were approaching Ithor. Pushing her feet into her boots and lacing them up quickly, Coal threw a shirt on over her tank top and half-tucked it into her kakis. Rolling up her sleves, she splashed some water on her face from the small sink in her room, towelled dry and left to find the Captain.

[Hobgoblin]

The Captain was busy in the kitchen. A small host of delicious smells wafted down the corridor, tantalizing Harley's nose and drawing her into the kitchen. Desi smiled at her dissheveledness. "Morning Leadboots. Have some caf."

Harley mumbled something incoherent as she accepted the wake-up juice and parked at the kitchen bar. Moments later, a plate of piping hot eggs slid its way under her face.

Tucked beneath the plate was a note.

Harley stared at it, the reality of what it was slowly penetrating her sleep-fogged consciousness like caffeine seeping into her brain cells. Slowly, she unfolded the paper and read it.

'Good morning!

Time it is, for you to retrieve that which you were tasked for. Directions, below are. When arrive at flower shop you do, ask for Jhodi. Tell him "Time it is, for the mahtinger to stalk the jungle." Suspicious he will be and say things that might arouse ire, but do not respond to him. Arranged this test of no reaction to be our code, did we. Give you two flowers, he will. When received, return them to the ship.

Then, reward you I shall.'

She looked up from the note. "He's on the ship, isn't he?"

Desi succeeded in looking very noncommittal for a change. "He who?"

"Hob."

Desi shrugged. "For all you know, Hob is a woman who lives two solar systems over and has been communicating by commlink the whole time."

As Harley stopped to consider the implications, Desi took his own plate of food and slipped from the kitchen.

[Harlequin]

Watching with a hooded sideways glance as Desi left the room, Alex ate her eggs by stabbing at them and forking them into her mouth in indolent fashion. She didn't like this cloak and dagger stuff, cryptic notes left in the night, codes, vague rendevous, a mysterious mystery someoneorother leading her about by the nose. It didn't help that Desi had a ghosted smile tugging at his lips as he'd left either.

She leered at the note, of half a mind to set the thing alight and set off whatever fire-safe protcols Desi had rigged in his ship. Instead though, she looked over the directions to the flower shop closely and re-read the instructions. If she was gonna play this merry-go-round then she would atleast do it right and see what this "Hob" might have to say about that.