Departing Mines and Cells

[Jargon Chasseur]

The thin rimmed sungoggles laid blankly on the security counter. Goggles? He didn't have to ask, he knew why.

"Put them on Chasseur," the gruff voice sailed through Jargon's occupied mind.

His orange jumpsuit didn't look the same. For some odd reason that seemed worse than anything he had heard in the mines. Ruitines are what keep men alive in prison, what keeps them sane. He couldn't get past the fact his orange jumpsuit would never look the same.

"Put them on," the guard said once more with authority. "I won't tell you again."

He was forced to forget the delema of departing from his adopted normalcy. The sun outside would blind him now, his pupils so fully dilated. Glitterstim, so horribly sensitive to light. He found that the arms were hardest to move with the shackles and chains. Despite this fact he raised them slowly to reach out for the goggles, he grabbed it by the strap. They felt ackward on his face. Obviously it was meant for a much bulkier cranium. The ride to the department center wasn't far, he could take them off in the security speeder if he needed.

The door slid open and for that instant he knew what freedom was. He also knew what pain was, the goggles were of little help. Hanging his head low to protect his eyes, he clumsly walked out. The gaurds holding him by the arms made it clear who the boss was. They squeezed his arms with each step he took.

The mumbles of the gaurds inside the emmersion tower, that he was exiting, were loud enough for him to hear. One distinct sentiment expressed freely was heard clearly by Jargon.

"I give him two months."

Jargon didn't reply. He just kept walking, head hanging low. Never again did he want to return to this place. Never again. If he was ever caught, he promised himself he'd die in the process of the capture. Death was more welcoming than the Spice Mines. Atleast then he'd have a chance of living in heaven, not hell.

Security speeders are rarely fast, this one was no exception. Nimble cornering was also a nightmare in this low cost trasportation. With each turn it made, Jargon hoped it was the last. He still wore his goggles, even though they didn't help. For some odd reason they felt fitting, even though they didn't fit at all. He didn't want to shed his prisoner garb until he was on his private ship. Then he could be the man he used to be. Even that wasn't entirely welcoming. But in a perfect world, he wouldn't exist, so he took his losses.

[Jargon Chasseur]

They had came into the departing center hours ago. As the guards stood over Jargon, who sat in one of many interlocked chairs, he still wore the goggles.

"If your ride doesn't get here soon we'll have to put you back under," one of the guards said, simply to piss him off.

Most people would marvel at the technology around them. Traffic controllers maintained good space routes to and from the prison planet. They also sent out beacons to ships flying too close to the Maw, government policy. Jargon didn't look. He simply didn't care.

"Who's your ride Chasseur? They obviously don't like you," the other guard said, immediantly after his partner.

A loud shrill came over the commlink of a traffic controller. Jargon's head jerked up, regonizing it. Following the sound came a slow, steady, monotone voice, female.

"I have come for Mr. Jargon Chasseur," the voice seemed artificially amplified. "His ship has arrived."

Jargon stood up without orders too. The guards didn't seem to mind the clear violation of Kessel law, "act only when ordered". Of course, Jargon was in the gray zone. Neither here nor there.

The guard looked Jargon over.

"You know the way princess. You're not my problem now."

The guards walked off. They didn't bother to unshakle him, or fit him with a breathing mask for the thin Kessel air. It was there way of sticking it to him one last time. Jargon stopped himself from scoffing as the guards walked off to their work mates. Jargon smiled as he shuffled towards the exit doors. A shuttle was already waiting to take him to the ship. It was a Kessel ship but it was one step towards emancipation.

[Sanis Prent]

(I glanced over the outbound prisoner transfer manifest log. In addition to names and serials, there were dry summaries of personal information, analytical words used to break down the level of atrocity that had landed the various prisoners in this hellhole. In the far right hand corner of the spreadsheet was a credit price. Funny thing to put a price on a man's life. It came with the territory of my life though, and I wasn't squeamish to the harsh reality.

Glancing through the metal-slitted window of my personal office, I noticed another prisoner release commencing. I checked the outbound flight roster, and matched it up to a serial.)

Jargon Chasseur...

(I ran a hand through my hair, followed by a cursory chase of bourbon from a pocket flask. I cranked up the man's unabridged dossier...and it was an interesting browse. I debated my next move. Yes, I wanted to remain in compliance with New Republic prisoner transfer specifications, but perhaps there was room to fudge the values a little.

I snapped up my commlink)

Overflight control, this is Baron Administrator Prent. Stand down current outbound shuttle, and bring the prisoner to my office, please.

(I snapped the comm off, tossing the datapad to the side as I sat in my chair. I paused, then hit a paging button)

Tyen, get Saarreeaa in here, please.

[Jargon Chasseur]

The light hit Jargon like a splash of cold, clear water. It felt different on his skin, for it would be the last time he felt the Kessel sun on his body. He couldn't help but smiling as he approached the shuttle. The welcoming doors were already open.

"Right away, sir," the security onboard replied through a small wrist comlink.

Jargon's goggled brows raised at the words. He trekked on anyhow. No one said a word until he got to the shuttle. Then he heard the heartbreaking news.

"Change o' plans, Chasseur. The Baron Administrator wants to see you."

Jargon's brain searched for escape routes but quickly difused them. He had to play along, if he ever wanted to get out. If push came to shove he could always find a way out of that office. Or so he hoped.

"Come on, we'll fly you back."

Jargon nodded somberly as the shuttle door slid shut behind him.

[Saarrreeaa Meorrrei]

Tyen ducked as a datapad bounced off the wall behind her head. Saarrreeaa snarled and shoved all the flimsies off her desk to the floor with one sweeping motion. "jI told you not to jinterrrupt me when jI am worrrkjing!"

The secretary edged towards the door and mumbled something about Sanis. Saa glowered, picking up another datapad. "Tell Sssanjisss that -" She stopped, flipped the datapad into the air and then caught it before flinging it at the back of the door Tyen pulled shut behind her.

The datapad sparked on the floor and then went dark as Saa stepped over it and slammed the door behind her. Sanis' secretary was no where in sight, nor was she at her desk outside his office. Saa threw her hair over her shoulder and pushed Sanis' door open.

His office smelled like his cologne and bourbon. It almost sweetened her mood. Almost. "jI wasss jin the mjiddle of an jimporrrtant budget ssssesssjion. Whatsss ssso jimporrrtant that jit can't wajit?" She crossed her arms in front of her body, and narrowed her blue eyes at him.

[Sanis Prent]

(Saa strutted in, full of spunk and attitude. The way her arms crossed over her volumptuous breasts laid it all out on the table for me...she didn't appreciate the ad hoc call-in. I walked over to her, smiling lightheartedly)

Take it easy, Saa...you work too hard anyways.

(I slapped her on the behind with a datapad, and twirled it up to her attention in one fluid motion, with a wink)

Besides, this should be a bit more fun than accounting. Found a miner we were releasing. He's got a record on him, and a guy of his talents might be useful to us.

(I jumped back into my seat, propping my feet up on the table)

I wanna keep him here. I know the New Republic wants us to keep our release quotas, but I'm sure there's some way to...you know...sweep some of the dirt under the rug.

[Saarrreeaa Meorrrei]

She tried to pretend that he couldn't move her, but a smile creased her face, dimpling her left cheek. Saa snatched the datapad from his hand, and scrolled through it.

"jInterrressstjing ssstuff. Of courrrssse, Sssanjisss, jyou know that thjis "djirrrt" jyou sweep underrr the carrrpet? jIt makesss forrr sssome djirrrtjy carrrpetsss. And eventualljy sssomeone hasss to clean them." She tapped the datapad against the desk as she sat down in the chair across from him.

His boots were too close to her face. She stood up, and walked around the desk, planting herself in his lap. "jI hope thjisss one jisss worrrth jit." She kissed his cheek softly.

[Jargon Chasseur]

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Mr. Prent? The one you requested is here. Is this a good time?" The guard outside tried to sound pleasent enough to not upset anyone, but if came off as gruff anyway.

Jargon stood far from the door, held by both arms. Guards on either side of him.

[Sanis Prent]

Thats why you're here.

(I smiled, giving her tail a squeeze, as the door opened. I returned to a somewhat subdued position, nodding)

Yeah, send him in.

(The con waltzed in, and I got a quick look over. He looked rough, as most of the miners did. Looked like he could use a bit of the high life, not to mention a shave and hot water)

Jargon, come in. I'm Sanis Prent, Baron Administrator of Kessel.

(I gestured to Saa)

This is Saarreeaa Meorrrei, my financial assistant. Can we get you something?

[Jargon Chasseur]

Jargon couldn't help but notice the woman was in his lap. This didn't seem odd to him. It did seem unprofessional. However, this was a prison, professionalism quickly became a casuality. But he did note him calling her a "financial assistant". Jargon had no clue how finance came into play in a prison, except between prisoners, and that was contraband, not finances.

Jargon stood, fully shackled. His throat did tingle harshly, he could use a drink. Maybe even liquor? He hadn't had that in a while. As he opened his mouth to speak, it quickly closed. No. He didn't want to waste time getting offworld. He shook his head and added.

"No," Jargon forgot the customary 'thank you'. He'd forgotten his manners a week after going underground.

[Saarrreeaa Meorrrei]

Saa leapt to her feet as soon as the door opened, but the shackled prisoner had noticed her former position. His eyes betrayed nothing but a slight impatience.

Slight would be an understatement if Sanis had indeed stopped him from his transport offworld. Saa wrinkled her nose a little bit at his smell, and felt a stab of compassion for him. The poor male, mistreated down there in the mines. And rude, too. Completely abandoned, with little to no proper training.

Saa blinked. She had spent too much time with her mother, the female was starting to show up in her thoughts. Still, she had purposefully distanced herself from the slaving/prisoner aspect of the mines, contenting herself with making the numbers dance. It had only been a decade ago that Kessel had been operated totally by slaves, and some of those original beings must have survived in the tunnels. It was pitiful to think about.

So she tried not to, letting Sanis figure all that out. She nodded at the dusty orange jumpsuited male, and noticed the dark glasses. She reached to Sanis' desk and manipulated the lighting, dimming it to a more comfortable level. He was still fully visible to them, but perhaps he would feel more at ease.

[Sanis Prent]

I couldn't help but notice you've had your fair share of run-ins with the law. What was it...attempted murder on a Senator, right?

(I pulled a beer from a microfridge at my desk, eyeing the man as I did so. I set the cold drink across from me, as an open invitation for him to have one, even though he said no.)

You know, I'm suprised they only give two years for those kind of things.

(I arched an eyebrow)

Until I found out that something in that flavor gets you 15 minimum.

(The thought of it made me laugh, as I glanced to Saa)

After all, its not what you know, its who you know.

[Jargon Chasseur]

The dimmer light didn't matter. Jargon refused to take off the goggles. It was a sign that he would not always be a prisoner, that he'd soon get out. Then, he'd take them off.

Jargon gulped as he looked at the drink. Alcohol? He hadn't a cold one since a prisoner traded it to him for a stack of flesh mags. He couldn't resist he started downing it hard, not even wondering if it was poisoned, like he often did. Jargon was a suspicious man.

He almost threw up the alcohol as Sanis spoke. Was his release taking a turn for the worse?

"You seem to have all the answers. What do you want from me?"

[Sanis Prent]

Actually, its what I have to give you. A job offer. Your line of work isn't exactly a secure one. Yeah the pay's good, but the prison sentences...or worse...

(I glanced to Saa, and back)

I could find use for those kind of skills right here. Well, plus some travelling. I can give you a pretty big umbrella to work under, too. I guarantee you that you won't spend another day in a prison or labor camp. And all you have to do for me, is solve problems.

[Jargon Chasseur]

Jargon didn't smile, he often didn't. Although his heart pounded rapidly, and his mouth did curve slightly.

"Okay, I'll do as you ask," Jargon quickly added. "But I do not wish to remain on this planet. A comprimise, I stay in constant orbit, in my ship, a floating office. When you need me, I will come. I also am allowed my own business ventures. Meaning I can break orbit and do odd jobs as I please."

Jargon hated this planet, and wanted his freedom. He was intriuged and overjoyed by the proposal, but he couldn't bare to look at this planet for another second.

[Saarrreeaa Meorrrei]

Saa listened with her ears, letting her eyelids droop a little as she wondered what Sanis was up to now. And why did he need her in here? Another salary to figure into their measly budget?

They hadn't started making any money yet, although there were some shipments sitting on the docks, waiting to be taken out. The supercooled droids had started arriving, but it was time consuming to get them down into the mineshafts. Saa's eyes narrowed. Sssanjisss, jyou arrre alwajysss sssurrrprrrjisssjing me wjith anotherrr expenssse.

She looked at the "Baron Administrator," and wondered if he'd ever find time for things other than the business. Saa licked her lips, making sure he saw her, but the other man did not, as her face was turned away from him.