Gamorr [completed]

[Arya Ravenwing]

Hutts stank. They really were putrid, bathing in sewage and eating amphibians of unknown origin. Well, okay, nala tree frogs weren't too bad. But still, frogs. It was almost like cannibalism, if you thought about it hard enough.

Which was just what Arya was trying not to do. Think about it, that is. Because no matter how much Hutts reeked, Gamorreans were worse. And she was trying to land on their little morrt infested dren-hole of a planet. Gamorr loomed in her viewscreen, and Arya nearly held her breath as she piloted the Wing of the Raven down into the depths of the atmosphere. Of course, she wouldn't be able to smell it until she opened the ramp and let in the air.

Running Pride blockades was foolhardy, but then, you could always expect the worst from the Cizerack. They didn't hide much of their contempt for smugglers and their ilk. But Gamorreans... They were so stupid. And they were easily double crossed. They also easily double-crossed you, sometimes by accident.

Arya was to meet a matriarch by the name of Borra, and pick up some goods that the good woman (I can't believe I put those words together in this context) needed taken off planet. She was willing to pay a handsome price, and Arya was also trying not to think about where a Gamorrean matriarch had gotten that kind of money from.

But ever since the job with s'Ilancy had gone bad on the Beautiful Jewel (Ha! More like Frelling Horrible Swamp Full of Dren.) the Hutts had blackballed her. Black listed! Arya was going to give s'Ilancy a piece of her mind when she saw her next. Because it was all her fault that she had to take the first job that came around, and it happened to be on Gamorr.

Well, the first job had been on Calan, and that had gone frelling wonderful. This was the second, and hopefully not just the next catastrophe on a string of accidents. Arya set the freighter down on a solid bit of land far enough away from the nearest settlement to let her sleep a little easier at night. Or even smell a bit easier.

The Matriarch Borra was in charge of that little mudhole of a settlement. She'd contact her as soon as the landing struts -

The ship settled down, and Arya gaped through the transparisteel in front of her. Gamorreans were pouring out of the thatched mud-huts in the distance. Somehow, this couldn't be good.

[Dan the Man]

Through the thatch window of Borra's hut, an old man watched Arya's ship landing, amid the squeals and grunts of his hosts. As the village buzzed with activity, he remained unusually calm, pouring himself another drink from the crude blown-glass bottle at his table.

[Threepio]

"Oh dear." Threepio stood at the top of the descending ramp as Mistress Arya clomped down it, her hands free of any weapons, but the rail gun displayed prominently on her hip and strapped down to her thigh. "Mistress Arya, it is not too late to go back. Is it?"

The pig-like Gamorreans gathered around the base of the ramp, and the smuggler still walked down it, the furthest end settling into the dirt.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Of course it's too late." Arya smiled confidently at the nearest green pig, and was glad for the weight of the blaster strapped under her leather jacket, and the rail gun by her side. It wasn't the newest issue, but it would still blow a hole in just about anything big enough for you ro put your head through.

And at this range, with this many targets - she wouldn't even have to aim.

"Get down here and translate!" Arya didn't move her eyes from the crowd of grunting and stinking creatures as C-3PO tottered down the ramp to fullfill his duties. "I'm looking for Matriarch Borra." Threepio just stood there, looking as nervous as he could. Arya frowned at him. "Well, translate!" Frell, I can't even tell which are the females.

The droid began squealing and grunting at the crowd, presumably asking about the whereabouts of their matriarch. Arya kept her hands free of her rail gun, and her eyes open. A lot of these Gamorreans were arms with the traditional vibroaxe or pike. Threepio finished, and they waited for a response.

[Dan the Man]

The most rotund Gamorrean of the group (and also the one with the most drool cascading from his jowls) waddled forward, oinking and grunting at the protocol droid, while pointing to the hut, and elsewhere. The gist of it all was that Matriarch Borra was inside her meeting hut, and currently had the company of two distinguished guests.

Borra bade Arya and her droid to join her, no questions asked.

At that last bit of oinking, a pair of Gamorreans to either side of Arya tightened their grips on their vibroaxes - just in case.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya stepped off the end of the ramp onto the dirt as Threepio trembled out his translation. "C'mon, lets lock up and see what she wants." The droid followed her, and a few keystrokes on the pad affixed to the hull sent the ramp upwards. She straightened her jacket, and tried to smile at the Gamorrean who'd addressed them. Ugh, but they all reek. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Ah, I believe that we are waiting for the ship to lock down -"

"It's a figure of speech, Threepio. Tell him we're ready." Arya could almost feel a headache starting right behing her left temple.

[Threepio]

"Ah, right." Threepio turned to the slobbery male, and oinked/grunted/squealed Arya's words to him, trying to lighten up her brusque tone with his word choices. The male nodded vigorously, spittle splattering on the droid's golden chest. Threepio waved his hands most ineffectively, only following the group when Arya grabbed his arm and practically dragged him after her.

The hut they were moving towards was the largest in the village, but 3PO hadn't seen any other ships nearby, nor had any shown up on the initial scans of the area. Gamorreans rarely owned their own vessels, caring nothing about upkeep when they did have them, and so they rarely were spacefaring for long.

He ran a probability algorithm about the identity of the two 'distinguished guests' and figured that they were most likely matriarchs of neighboring clans. He did wish that Arya wouldn't be so tense. She was trying to act natural, but the clenching of her fists showed that she was about two point oh five seconds from putting a hole in the nearest vibroaxe-wielding Gamorrean.

[Dan the Man]

The hut was dimly lit, and like all things Gamorrean, carried a humble appeal to it. At a broad wooden table, the immense figure of Borra sat berthed on a sturdy bench. In each of her thick arms, she cradled a Gamorrean infant, piglet, whatever, which in turn suckled at a pair of pendulous, exposed teats, which in turn were further suckled upon by a series of well-nourished morrts - the pets/parasites held in such high regard by the porcine race.

Borra's jowls shook as she addressed Arya, watching the humanoid and her protocol droid enter her home with beady black eyes. Before Threepio could translate, a gravelly voice at the shadowy side of the table spoke in basic.

"Borra thanks you for coming, Arya Ravenwing."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya's eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness inside the hut, immediately drawn to the largest figure in the room. Ah, I guess that's what the females look like. There certainly hadn't been any in the welcoming committee. It was probably beneath the females to greet smugglers.

She shifted her eyes to Threepio, waiting for the translation of the female's words. The droid's eyes shone orange in the dim lighting, but the translation came from another source. Arya turned quickly, too quickly, to face the male voice that spoke good Basic. Her hand brushed the grip of the rail gun, but she forced herself to relax, and keep her hands away from the weapon.

The human man was greying, or at least it appeared so, but other than that he was hard to make out in the shadows. "It is my honor to be here, Matriarch Borra." She inclined her head politely to the grotestque porcine goddess of fertility that sat in the place of honor, but her attention remained mostly on the shadowed figure.

[Dan the Man]

Arya's attention was well placed. Borra explained as she fed her progeny.

"I have searched long and hard for a warrior to send on a great task. A task of enormous importance to my people, and to our ancestors who watch over us. It has been many years since my old eyes have gazed upon my clan's great relic, the Hammer of Martugg. The boars I have sent after it have returned home bloodied and cleaved. Their failure only makes the dishonor of the Hammer's absence more painful."

At this moment of silence and contemplation, Borra flatulated thunderously, bringing about an unspoken non sequitur.

Grunting, the matriarch continued unabated.

"My good old friend is a creature of great guile and wisdom, whose influence reaches out over the stars, and is far greater than my own illustrious rule. He honors me in bringing the names of many capable warriors who may help my clan in this great mission."

Borra leaned forward, depositing babies and teats on the table as she eyed Arya.

"Are you such a great warrior?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

The first words that rose to her lips were along the lines of "I'm a smuggler, not a warrior, what's this all about?" but Arya had a pretty good survival instinct, and so swallowed that sentance.

"I have done my share of fighting, Matriarch, and some would classify me as such." I thought I was here to smuggle something for you! I'm not a mercenary!

...I wonder how much she's willing to pay to get this Hammer back? Threepio translated, and Arya studied the figure in the shadows a little less subtly.

[Dan the Man]

Borra squealed at a plush-furred creature that squeaked and skittered across the table when she swatted at it with a beefy hand. Returning her attention to Arya, she nodded sagely.

The greying man in the shadows spoke this time.

"I would be one to do as such."

Dan leaned into the dim light, and took a shot of the cloudy liquor in his glass.

"And in turn, you will be paid vast sums of money."

[Threepio]

Threepio gaped at the spectacle inside the hut. Technically it was impossible for him to gape, since his voder was in a fixed shape where most human's mouths would be, but his optics took it all in as he translated for Mistress Arya.

This new human, this was a development that neither droid nor smuggler had expected. Vast sums of money sounded good, after the nearly disasterous turn of events at Calan, they needed a few repairs to get the freighter back into tip-top shape.

But the original boar had informed them that there were two distinguished guests. Threepio looked around for the second.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya nodded slowly, merely to fill the scant seconds she needed to wrack her memory and see if she recognized this man. Maybe one of Aaron's old associates? Her dead lover had been closely connected to all sorts of powerful people. Powerful, dangerous people.

This man was certainly both powerful and dangerous, although how one of Aaron's associates would remember that years ago they'd known someone who had a helluva gal was a bit beyond her. "Well, I have to admit that has a certain ring to it. Who are you?" She tightened up her stance a bit, trying to decide whether to face him fully, or continue to split herself between Borra and the unknown.

[Dan the Man]

"The name's Dan. And if you're about to ask the obvious question, I can assure you that I can put my money where my mouth is, as they say."

Pouring another shot, Dan paused once again to rebuke the same annoying yet cute creature that Borra had swatted at previously. Chittering, it scurried off to another part of the table.

He slid the shot glass carefully to Arya.

"Drink?"

At the obvious 'Who accepts drinks from dangerous strangers' look, Dan smiled, which creased his aged face.

"Ah, this would be Zurggorrk, which is a peculiar type of fire water round these parts. Comes from an ugly purple mushroom that nobody in their right mind here would eat anyways. They mash it up and distill it, and out comes this particular hooch, which aside from its rather strong potency, also contains a mild psychotropic, allowing one to truly...relax."

Dan nodded to the shot.

"Cheers."

With that, he imbibed from the bottle.

"Y'know, only the truly romantic or the truly desperate would make their way out to Gamorr to strike it rich. Which is it?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She eyed the shot, wondering how she was expected to relax when she hadn't been offered any kind of seat. "Not trying to strike it rich, just came here to do a job." Arya picked up the shot, raised it to Borra, and downed it to the female's delight. It was horrible, but she'd drank pints of worse.

"And in answer to your question, I've never been much of a romantic. Got too much realism in me." The alchohol warmed her stomach, and she shifted her feet once again, to a slightly steadier position.

[Dan the Man]

"Have a seat, then."

Dan retrieved another shot glass, and filled both up.

"I need realists, Miss Ravenwing. You see, I myself am a romantic, and as such, I get far too jealous of other romantics that cramp my style.

Myself, well...I first came to this place some thirty years ago, with Matriarch Borra's dearly beloved brother stuffed in a pine box. Back then, well I was a younger and more reckless man, and I'd wound up shooting Borra's brother on Ryloth, just to watch him die."

Shrugging, Dan took another drink.

"I suppose that would seem callous, even cruel to most. I'm a right horrible bastard, and I ain't ever denied it. But what you've got to understand here are the moral complexities involving Gamorreans and death.

Y'see Orlogg, the stiff boar in question, wasn't just Borra's brother, but he was the biggest, baddest boar in her clan. In the blink of an eye, I'd done put his lights out. To the Gamorreans, who above all else admire strength, it was in a way, an oath of fealty, though I'm not quite sure what kind of Lord a son of a bitch like myself is worth when its all said and done."

Dan procured a cigarette from a silver case, embossed with a death's head skull. Lighting it, he continued.

"In them thirty years since, Borra and her ilk have pledged blood and axes at my slightest whim or command. In the very least, I'm much obliged."

[Arya Ravenwing]

It was a strange man who'd shoot a Gamorrean and then bother to take it's body back to it's clan. Arya didn't have any trouble believing that Dan was a romantic. A deadly romantic, however.

She took a seat, motioning to Threepio to stay where he was. "That's all very well and good, Dan, but where exactly do I fit into this story? You... Borra wants me to collect a hammer for her?" The cute creature was at her end of the table, and it was trying to get into her shot glass. Arya carefully pushed it away, trying not to offend Borra who was vigorously burping one of her piglets.

[Dan the Man]

"You'll have to excuse the...limitations of the Gamorrean tongue. Borra has asked for a warrior, but I am afraid warrior is a loose translation. Anyone who sets to work on a task in the name of service is a warrior, and that task ergo is their battle."

Dan poured himself another shot as he smoked.

"Thus, you can see the appeal of such a culture, if you were a romantic, that is."

Taking the shot down, Dan grimaced, paused, and swallowed once more.

"That isn't to say that you won't have to worry about a little blood on your hands. Its a distinct possibility, especially since the Hammer of Martugg is now held by a very powerful clan, currently living across the stars. If you're worried about whether this is suitable for your vocation, I have no doubt that you will not be disappointed."

Shooing the furry creature away yet again, Dan proceeded to fill his glass once more.

"There is, of course, another reason to retrieve this great artifact, and it is one that I and my colleagues feel you are more or less obligated to respect."

[Threepio]

Threepio's bright optical sensors scanned the room, but the words of 'Dan' brought his head back around. "Ah, yes, I was wondering, who exactly are your colleagues? We were -"

The silence in the room, and the eyes that were upon him, caused the protocol droid to cease speaking. "Oh dear."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Threepio opened his big mouth, but his words brought to mind what he'd translated for her upon their arrival on the planet. "I apologize for the forwardness of my droid. However, his question is valid. Who are your colleagues? I like to know who I'm dealing with, exactly."

[Vargo the Hutt]

THWACK!

A pink, serpentine thing leapt from the shadows suddenly, slapping against the table with enough force to rattle the bottle and glasses, and came to rest atop the annoying furred creature, who squeaked too late in suprise. Its back was broken by the sudden impact, and it twitched under the long creature, which undulated back over its smashed body. As it did so, thick clear liquid ran off its writhing surface onto the table, leaving a slimy slick in its wake. After a second of observation, it became clear that the pink serpent wasn't a serpent at all.

It was a tongue.

As the crippled animal struggled uselessly to flee, the large tongue slid backwards, then wrapped its fleshy tip around the animal's midsection, dragging its saliva-soaked body above and behind Borra and her suckling young.

It was then apparent who the second guest was, and where he had been. In the dim light, it was rather easy to mistake the massive form of Vargo the Hutt for a wall, or some various part of the hut in the background. His wide, blubbery hide had sat motionless in the background, becoming the background. After all, with one as girthy as Borra in your forefront, who looks past her?

As Vargo the Hutt made himself visible, he withdrew his long tongue, which brought his snack to his broad jaws. The seized creature shrilled once more, only to be remorselessly slurped into the Hutt's greedy mouth, and gulped down whole.

Licking the taste from his lips, Vargo regarded Arya with his slitted red eyes, shifting his weight toward the table with an audible sloosh.

"Arya wanto ba seecha no gata."

(A pleasure to do business with you, Arya)

[Arya Ravenwing]

She licked her lips, and accepted the second shot that Dan had poured out for her. Hutts helping Gamorreans? No, that was wrong. The Gamorreans had something, The Hammer of Gortugg or whatever it was, and this Hutt wanted it. The deal with Borra was just a ruse. It had to be.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, for I do not have the honor of knowing your Excellency's name." Frell, all Hutts look alike. Just my luck, this is Nasha's nephew or something. Threepio translated neatly, but edged a bit closer to her seat.

[Dan the Man]

"My apologies. Arya Ravenwing, meet His Grand Highest Excellency, Vargo the Hutt."

Dan made a peculiar face as he ground out the redundant and ridiculous titles and monikers that Hutts found so...necessary. He then smiled politely.

"Vargo has no doubt had the pleasure of hearing your exploits through the other Hutt clans. Before this is of any discomfort to you, I can assure you of my associate's most bent, unscrupulous, and immoral character. As such, the best I can gather is...no hard feelings."

The great mound of Hutt blubber moved in a motion similar to a nod, with residual waves of motion slooshing through his multiple chins. Vargo grunted in agreement.

"However, that being said, Vargo is somewhat adamant on your participation in this assignment. The most interesting side effect of your success in this endeavor is that the clan that you practice your banditry upon will, predictably enough, be forever in our debt for our show of superior warrior's prowess."

Vargo licked at his chops as Dan took another drink.

"Vargo needs manpower. I need Vargo's cooperation in other plans. Borra obligations to myself have been paid many times over, and you..."

Dan laughed.

"...then there's you. You could use a lucky break, for once."

[Arya Ravenwing]

The second shot rested comfortably in the palm of her hand, and she tipped it back into her mouth as Dan spoke. Arya wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and shrugged. "Well, I guess I could, at that. So, I'm already here to do the job for Borra, guess it doesn't make much difference who it is paying me. As long as it's clear I'm not in anyone's pocket. Just this job, that's where it ends. The illustrious Vargo the Hutt may need manpower, but I'm not paticularly fond of nine to five jobs. Meaning, I work ultimately for me, and me alone.

"That being said, fill me in on the details. The Hammer is with a clan beyond the stars?" The smuggler shifted on the bench, trying to find a slightly more comfortable spot on the wood smoothed by decades of Gamorrean rumps. I'm not a bandit. I'm a smuggler. The last time I tried stealing anything s'Il managed to get us nearly killed. Arya chuckled silently, I really lost my shirt on that deal.

[Dan the Man]

"When this is over, your obligation to Vargo for all intents and purposes is over. Your reputation, how do we say, preceeds you in Huttese circles. Do a good job, and it's water under the bridge.

At that point, we'll decide where that leaves you and me. I intend on going after the hammer with you, so my own interests in this job are understandably greater."

Dan smiles, with a dangerous edge to it.

"As you said, you're a smuggler. Myself, I'm a murderer. That about covers all the bases we need covering, I reckon."

Taking another shot, Dan flips a dataslip across the table towards Arya.

"Thats all you'll need to get from point A to point B, wheelman. I take it you're more or less accustomed to all the Tattooine space lanes."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Tattooine?" Arya raised an eyebrow, and then looked down at the datslip. "Of course I'm familiar with them, you'd be hard pressed to find a lowlife that isn't." Her eye twinkled a bit at her words, and a smile softened her mouth. Now that she'd committed to the job she felt a bit more relaxed.

"I haven't been there for a while, but I'm sure nothing's changed."

[Dan the Man]

Dan glanced away, pouring himself another drink.

"Nothing ever changes there."

Turning his attention to Vargo and Borra, Dan exchanged the proper amount of pleasantries.

"Vargo, may your largeness increase in power and girth. Borra, your hospitality as always, is priceless, as is the mushroom stew and mushroom liquor."

He finished his sentence by taking one last shot, and winced slightly. Borra snuffled slightly, shifting her weight on the bench, and nodded to both Dan and Arya.

Dan rose slowly to his feet, adjusting his jacket, and the double holster belt beneath it, where two ivory-handled pistols rested. Tossing a lock of hair out of his face, Dan flicked the ash from his stim on the wooden table.

"Well, smuggler, lets get to work on finding something to smuggle. Lead me to your ship."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya got to her feet a little slower, turning to the aliens in the room. "Matriarch Borra, may your clan increase in number and wealth. I only pray that Gamorr herself blessed us on our task." She bent her lithe body into a bow, and then addressed the Hutt, "Your Excellency, if it pleases you to offer me this chance to serve a Hutt once more, it honors me to accept. Ha burno cha hoomba na grobna." The rough translation of the Huttese phrase was 'get big and fat,' but it was a traditional Huttese farewell blessing.

Arya bowed to Vargo, deeper than she had to Borra, and then turned to follow Dan out of the hut into the brightness of a Gamorr mid-morning.

[Threepio]

The droid started as the two humans exited the hut, and turned to the Gamorrean female, and the Hutt. "Ah, yes. Thank you for your immense hospitality." His thin voice seemed inadequate in the company of these two immense creatures.

And...what was that crawling on his feet? "Oh no!" Morrts were trying to latch onto his golden coverings. Threepio scurried after Mistress Arya as Vargo laughed.

[Dan the Man]

Dan paused to take a look at Arya's ship. Pocked by blaster fire, and with a bit of cosmetic hull-patching slapped onto the top, it looked like it had seen a bit of a downtrodden streak.

He flashed a bemused look at Arya.

"Well, it did get you this far, I suppose."

Walking alongside the gangplank, he ran a hand along the lower hull.

"I'll throw in a paint job, to sweeten the deal."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Ha, ha, thanks." Arya grimaced as he brushed his fingers along the hull. "But if I brighten her up, people will think she's worth noticing." Threepio struggled out of the hut behind them, the sunlight reflecting brightly off his domed head.

The smuggler stepped up to the keypad, tapped in the access code, and stated her name for the voice print lock. After a moment, the gangplank began to lower. "I know, the Wing of the Raven doesn't look like much, but she'll get me to Tattooine. Will you be meeting me there?"

Don't say you're coming with me. No price is worth you on my ship. The slight smile stayed on her lips as she stepped out of the protocol droid's way. Threepio walked up the ramp as quickly as he could, shaking his legs as he went. He looked like he was trying to dance a jig.

[Dan the Man]

"I'm sure somebody stocks a shade of drab grey that suits you just fine." Dan replied knowingly as Arya dropped the gangplank.

As she asked her question, Dan smiled thinly.

"I actually planned on taking just one ship. That isn't a problem, is it?"

Not that Dan had to put on airs or anything. It should be apparent to Arya that nothing should be a problem at this juncture.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Of course not, just wanted to be sure, that's all." The smile never left, and she gestured him up the gangplank in front of her. The earlier crowd of porcine boars had disappeared, leaving the two humans alone.

Dan obligingly walked up the ramp, frowning a bit at the antics of Threepio in the living area. The droid appeared to be trying to use a fork to get something off it's feet. Arya paid no attention to Threepio, and pointed at the couch. "It's all I have to offer you, but you are welcome to it. Grub's in the refridgeration unit, and if you have anything you need to bring along, the cargo hold is empty, surprisingly enough."

Chevette77's only had one cabin, and she wasn't about to offer it to him, or give it up should he ask for it. No amount of money was worth that. "Do you need to go get anything first, or are we leaving now?"

[Dan the Man]

"Contrary to what you might think, I'm not particuarly inclined to the life of the upper crust."

Looking around at the ship's homely interior, Dan nodded at the couch in approval.

"I've enjoyed my stay on worse. It'll do. As for the grub...no thanks."

He arched an eyebrow.

"I doubt my stomach will agree with anything after partaking of Borra's finest. Or at least for the next day."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"I didn't expect you to dig in immediately. It's a week's trip to Tattooine, at least it is with our current hyperdrive motivator." Arya motioned to the ramp. "Last chance to get something off this planet." Her hand rested on the panel that would close up the ship.

In her other hand she held the dataslip. "Threepio, take this and input it into the nav computer - what in Corellia's nine hells are you doing?"

"Morrts, Mistress Arya, help me!" The droid tumbled off balance onto the couch, fork still clutched in one mechanical hand. The smuggler growled, and stalked over to him, picking off the morrts with her fingers and throwing them into the incinerator.

[Threepio]

"Oh thank the Maker, you've saved me." Threepio straightened up, finding a dataslip in his hand instead of the eating utensil. "Ah, the nav computer. Of course, right away." He walked stiff-legged into the passage, and continued past the human named Dan into the cockpit.

The data slip didn't hold inter-planetary navigational information, at least not for getting to Tattooine. When accessed by the ship's computer the Wing of the Raven told Threepio that it held an extensive map of Mos Espa, and the surrounding areas. The droid processed that, noting that the dataslip implied they would be visiting a vaporator plantation. He could speak vaporator... hopefully no moisture farmers would need his services. He seemed to remember something about Tattooine, but by the Maker, his memory circuits were degraded.

Too degraded for a memory wipe, even, Arya had looked into it, and had been laughed at for bringing in such an old model of protocol droid. If a memory wipe was attempted it would very well destroy the entire programming of C-3PO, and then he would cease to exist. It was a bit disturbing, he'd been aware for so long, to no longer exist seemed... lonely.

Human wording to describe something that he was not technically capable of feeling. Threepio sat for a long moment in the co-pilot's seat, not moving, merely processing information.

[Dan the Man]

"I think I'll suffice on what I've got."

Looking around the ship, Dan spoke again.

"Is there a co-pilot's station in the cockpit? I'd hate to get lonely."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya nodded, the ramp climbing upwards although she was still well away from the controls, dropping the last of the wriggly morrts into the incinerator. Sometimes things like that happened, she didn't explain them because she couldn't. Came in handy though, when need and weird happenings coincided. "There is, and if you want, I'll even lock Threepio in the cargo hold. He 'sleeps' there when he gets too annoying."

She wiped her hands on the front of her shirt, and then stuck them in her pockets, and brushed past Dan, making her way to the cockpit. "Follow me." If only there were a way to keep his sharp eyes from taking in every inch of her ship.

Arya plopped into the pilot's station, beginning the start-up sequence. "Threepio, shove over and let our employer have a seat." There was no response from the golden droid. Arya looked at him sharply. "Threepio."

The droid's head swiveled to her, and Threepio started, violently. "Ah! Apologies. You can access the dataslip through your main console, Mistress Arya." The aged protocol droid got to his feet, shuffling past Dan.

Arya frowned slightly, and called after him, "Make sure you get your oil bath, it should be set up in the cargo hold." There was no reply. She shrugged, and began pre-flight tests on the sublights. Everything was in working order, if only just.

[Dan the Man]

"I trust you weren't hassled too much by the Cizerack on your latest run. They have a nasty habit of holding grudges."

Dan reclined slightly in his seat.

"I couldn't help but notice the hull incision. You're either born lucky, or a better fighter than you give yourself credit for."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya gave the heavily welded patch job a rueful look, and then turned her attention back to bringing the systems online. "Ah, never said I wasn't a fighter. Just don't see myself as a warrior, I guess, at least, I don't do jobs as a warrior. I'm not a bounty hunter, I'm a -"

"Smuggler." Dan finished her sentance with her.

Arya grimaced, levering up the sublights and getting the ship off the ground. "Yeah, I guess I've said that a lot today." She kept her mouth shut while they broke atmo, and then was silent to the jump point.

As hyperspace enveloped them in it's swirling embrace, she kicked back out of her seat, and nodded to Dan. "Speaking of the Cizerack, want to see the two that dropped in on me? I haven't figured out what to do with them yet."

[Dan the Man]

"Not particuarly. They all look the same to me."

As the hyperspace vortex twisted around them, Dan broke the silence once again.

"Back to what we were talking about, well, in Borra's hut. You consider yourself a realist, forsaking all attachment to your profession except for love of money, yes?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Slightly non-plussed, Arya settled back into her seat. "The love of money is the root of all sorts of evil, or hadn't you heard? I am a realist, and I don't love money, I just need it to survive. I don't know if you'd noticed, but I don't exactly travel in style."

[Dan the Man]

"Those who claim money is the root of all evil are simply too consumed with the philanthropic spirit, I think."

Tossing Arya a sarcastic smile, he continued.

"You mean to tell me that you're here exclusively for the payout? And what if I were to double your average wages to be my secretary?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"But I am dren at filing, I have no people skills, and you aren't offering me double my average wages - because if you were I'd know you were lying. I'm good at what I do, and I get paid accordingly."

Arya shrugged her shoulders, "And, okay, I appreciate my freedom. Sitting behind a desk is too cramped for my liking."

[Dan the Man]

"Bad example."

He waved a hand casually.

"I just have a hard time gauging that kind of thing, I guess. You say you appreciate your freedom, but would you take the same money and your freedom, no strings attached? Would you take that over smuggling?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Without knowing the job?" She shook her head. Dan was piquing her curiousity, but there were warning lights flashing even as he did so. "And definetely not without knowing who you are and who you work for." Arya smiled, but the smile didn't really reach her eyes.

[Dan the Man]

"Purely hypothetical. Nothing implied."

Dan waved his hands slightly, dodging Arya's accusatory implications.

There was a moment of silence, and Dan eventually filled it again.

"I own a cat."

He settled in his seat somewhat, and continued.

"Not really absorbed into the cat owner's lifestyle, mind you, but I own one. She's spoiled fairly rotten, all the expensive canned fish dinner things, you get the idea. At any rate, I give her just enough attention to take care of everything she needs."

He raised an index finger.

"But...this spoiled little feline still regularly tromps into my apartment with a mouse or a bird, or whatever was stupid enough to cross her path. For a spoiled cat, she's pretty damn good at hunting. Maybe its a case of the apple not falling far from the tree, but that may be interjecting too much.

What I'm getting at is, why does she do it? I've cleaned up enough of those mangy little war trophies to know that she doesn't eat a bite of them, and she subsists entirely on that damn expensive fish in a can. So, why?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya blinked at the change of subject, but shrugged. "That's easy. Cats bring presents of their prey to their owners - as a sign of affection, or maybe just to prove that they still can." She thought about that a moment. "Well, felines aren't all that affectionate, so maybe they do it just to prove that they still have it where it counts."

[Dan the Man]

"And why do they need to prove this? What purpose does it serve? I take care of my cat as good as any reasonable owner. She's well fed, has a warm bed to sleep on, and at every whim, she's provided for."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya shrugged. "Just shows that wild things can't totally be tamed, I suppose. And yes, I think I see what you're getting at. You think that even if I'm offered a job of equal pay, with all my freedom attatched, everything I could ask for, and quit smuggling, you don't think I would stick with it."

[Dan the Man]

"Precisely."

Dan nodded for emphasis.

"That cat is a killer, same as myself, and much like you are a smuggler. We all need food, water, shelter, and the other basics to live, but we need a reason to feel alive."

He smiled wistfully for a moment.

"Now, maybe that reason changes from time to time. Epiphanies happen, I suppose. But there's damn well always a reason."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She twisted her mouth into a wry smile. "No matter how gilded the cage, it would still be a cage, keeping you from your 'reason' for living, is that right?" Arya glanced at her chrono, a sturdy military model that was strapped to her right wrist. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have two bodies I need to dispose of."

The two Cizerack who'd boarded her two weeks ago were currently in deep freeze in the built-in cooling unit she'd had installed in her hold. It was meant for transporting climate controlled substances, but it had served a purpose in this case. After the incident she'd been a bit too rattled to just open the airlock and get rid of them. But that was history, and this was the present. She pulled back on a lever, and the Wing of the Raven broke smoothly out of hyperspace.

"Won't take but a minute, we'll be on schedule don't worry."

[Dan the Man]

"Need a hand?"

Dan queried, as he swiveled his seat towards the rear of the cockpit.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She stopped in the doorway. "Wouldn't mind one, the male is pretty heavy. And my droid is no help when it comes to heavy lifting." Arya nodded her head for him to follow her, and started off down the passage. They walked through the living area, past the door to her cabin, and to the ladder that led down into the hold.

Arya turned around, grasped the sides of the ladder, and slid down, her boots thumping solidly on the deck. She stepped away from the ladder, smacked the light controls, and the cargo area lit up. It was notoriously empty, except for a few crates in a corner, and, of course, Threepio.

"Mistress Arya, I do hope we've reconsidered going to Tattooine. That dreadful planet, and I do not think that you should trust that man - Oh." Dan came down the ladder behind Arya, and Threepio's voice cut off. He said nothing more, only stood looking. . . like he always did.

Arya grimaced at him, and led Dan to the cooler built into the back of the hold. "All we need to do is get them into the airlock." She opened the door, and stepped into the cooler, her breath instantly condensing.

[Dan the Man]

Grunting, Dan caught the male under the armpits, dragging him by his heels behind Arya, following her to the airlock chamber. The bodies had a sheen of frost on them, and had begun to stiffen as rigor mortis began its onset. There was a faint stink of ammonia as well.

Dan slid the male's dead weight through the interlock chamber doors, and laid him beside Arya's pilot.

"Y'know, a little stunt like this has a ways of garnering a reputation to precede you."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Ha ha, yes I know." She grunted a bit (the female was dense, and hadn't gotten any lighter with being frozen) as she heaved the female into the chamber, and then stepped out with Dan and closed the inner doors. Arya shrugged, "But it was them or me."

The doors closed with a clang, and she pushed the button and activated the outer doors. They opened, and the bodies were sucked out into the vastness of space. The distant suns glittered, and she chuckled. "You should have seen what I did to their ship."

[Dan the Man]

"Well, I've seen what they did to yours, so I can only imagine."

Dan turned away from the airlock, walking back to the cockpit with Arya.

"The only language the Cizerack speak is attrition, so I doubt you could ever be considered excessive."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Mm." Arya didn't say much more until she was back in the pilot seat. "So, we're going after a hammer? A literal one, or a figurative one?" The smuggler set the ship back into hyperspace and on course for Tattooine, waiting for Dan to sit before activating the jump.

She sat back, and lightly closed her eyes, although her second sight saw the whole cockpit clearly.

Dan sat back in the co-pilot's seat, and a ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Or, just keep me in the dark. I like that too."

[Dan the Man]

"Well..."

Dan said with a grunt, as he eased himself back in his seat.

"...I do suppose I owe you more of an explanation."