Nau'ravi(Arya and Co.)

Meh'ano en'ss'anu'ek da a'ni'eh
Au'ri'ano Kheh'ana o'ss'eha
En'riud'ek kama'a
Nau'ravi an'reh a'mo' ka'ss'ek kheh'du meh
A'mah'ss'ano ju'lau'ri'ek eh'ri a'ma an'au'ek
Kheh nau'ravi

The message had been delivered by a courier most trusted - in fact, he had the rather maddening honor of being the only one that Loklorien s'Ilancy ever used. He was discreet, and knew that the privacy of his client was tantamount to all. He had been with her for more years than he could count. Ten? Fifteen now? No, it was most likely that he'd been in her service for far longer than that, ferrying messages between herself and General Dan. It wasn't often that he was called upon to deliver outside of those two, but when it happened he was sure to follow her instructions to the letter.

Now was one of those rare occurrences, and as in times before, he'd given the recipient that familiar, almost weightless slim metal tube. Hand-delivered, he was never too careful. Even at the look he'd been given, he answered only with a nod, a curt smile, and a shallow bow before turning about on his heel and disappearing the way he'd come. No word of how he had found her. No word of what was being sent to her. He simply left as quietly as he'd arrived.

He never asked questions, never pried into the nature of what he carried for the Jedi. She paid him well enough to ensure his loyalty, and over the years it had become something ingrained beyond pure monetary value.



Inside, written in a precise hand, was a message. Short and concise, it said only what needed to be said. Anything beyond could be saved for the future. For face to face.

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The dataslip in question was no larger than a fingernail, and would fit into any datapad. The coordinates had been encrypted, though not in any Alliance code. Instead, it was in Bast'yr, a language that Arya Ravenwing would know well enough.

Arya Ravenwing whooped and leaned over the paddock railing, reaching in to brush her fingertips against the gelatinous surface of blob #78. "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

Beside her Tak was climbing up as well, feet on the second rail as she clung to the top of the fencing. Arya stood on the first rung, held the top and leaned back, giving another victorious yell before letting the stable hands shoo them away from the racing blobs. A thick plexiglas wall had been installed inside the paddock to keep the Umgullian blobs from oozing through the fence.

The Lupine turned to help Tak down, gave the girl a swoop through the air and then landed her gently on her feet. "C'mon, lets go collect our winnings. I told you #78 was going to beat all those other slackers." Arya walked backwards, blowing the greenish purple blob with 78 suspended inside of it holographically a farewell kiss.

Once out of the racing stables, the capitalistic chaos of Umgul City descended on the pair in a cacophony of holographic ads and street vendors. Most were hawking blob souvenirs this close to the arena, and Arya ignored them as the led Tak towards the important looking building where she could cash in her betting chit for their winnings.

"Arya Ravenwing?"

She looked around, confused for a moment at hearing her name, and saw a courier hurrying to catch up with them. "Uh, yeah?" Her hand dropped to the butt of her blaster and the other nonchalantly pushed Tak behind her.

He stopped just ouside arms reach, and held out a slim metal tube. Arya frowned, and saw that it appeared to be a non-standard message cyclinder. She hesitantly reached out for it, and he nodded, gave her a short smile, and a tiny bow before disappearing in the crowd outside of the stakes office.

"That was... bizarre." Arya examined the container, saw that it didn't look booby trapped, and slipped it into her satchel to open later. First - credits! Then a celebration dinner!

Back on Wing of the Raven, the smuggler broke the transparent seal and carefully removed the note while Tak groaned from her prone position on the floor. The little girl's tummy was slightly distended from all the dessert she'd eaten after dinner. Arya's eyebrows rose as she read the message, and then she turned the dataslip over in her hand before inserting it into a datapad to access it.

"Looks like your dama wants to meet up." She frowned, wondering if it was a good idea. Vymes had been fairly adamant that Arya keep Tak safe and away from s'Ilancy. Tak had seemed almost blissfully unaware of the drama that surrounded her.

But... the thing that she'd lost was her father's medallion. The smuggler's eyes tracked over to Tak who was grinning excitedly through her tiredness and trying to get up without bending in the middle. And Arya would do anything to get it back.

"Really?"

Now that wasn't what she'd expected at all, and Tak smiled from ear to ear. After the huuuuge dinner they'd had, and the dessert! It was enough to fill her completely, and the little Lupine thought her tummy was gonna burst open at any moment. Ever since being with Feathers, Tak had come to cultivate a rather wild and spontaneous streak that her Dama would've never allowed. But Arya did, and it was great! They always stayed up late, ate whatever they wanted, and did all the kinds of stuff that Dama would've never allowed! Like the races!

Her eyes had been as big as saucer plates during the entire thing, and the young Lupine had almost even Changed just to be able to race with them!!

"Well frakkin' 'ell! Let's gooooo!!!"

She'd learned those words from Arya.

"Calm down," Arya said, slowly translating the contents of the datacard. Coordinates were all that it contained, and a single word. Dauntless. "We have to request clearance to leave first, then wait for our takeoff window, and then we can go."

She tapped the datapad in her hands, and lurched up to her feet. "C'mon, lets see where these coordinates are going to take us." Tak scrambled up, ran down the passage to the cockpit, and was already spinning around in the co-pilot's chair when Arya got there. The smuggler absently roughed up the girl's hair as she sat, and input the numbers into the navicomp.

"Ahh, Sullust. Ever been there before?"

"Uh uh. Is that where Dama is?!"

"That's what the message says." Arya tapped out a textual request to the Umgul Port for clearance, and nodded over towards Tak. "Start the pre-flight checks, will you?"

Bad words hadn't been the only thing she learned from Feathers; in fact, since she'd been with the older Lupine, Tak had become more of a stubborn grumbler than she already was. But, she'd picked up easily how to do the things like pre-flight checks. It wasn't too hard, and the girl enjoyed every moment of it. She wondered if Arya's ship worked like Sanis', or if it was too different for her to learn fast enough.

Working over the console as she'd done many times before, Tak began to hum the lullaby that Dama had always sung to her at bedtime. It was a haunting tune, but held a soothing undertone with a bit of sadness to it.

"How long is it gonna take us to get there," she asked, interrupting herself.

"Not long. About a day." Arya ruffled her hair affectionately, and started up the freighter, tapping the comm to acknowledge Control and take advantage of their departure window.

The sublights warmed up in moments, and the Lupine felt the familiar vibrations of her ship flow up into her from her boots. She winked at Tak, pulled up on the steering yoke and Wing of the Raven floated up into the air, hesitating a moment before flying up and away.

The trip from Nar Shaddaa had been short enough, and Montegue was a silent companion. Ecks was grateful for that. He'd never been the best at upholding his end of a conversation.

Razor's Edge had gotten clearance to land at Umgul's secondary port, and the big Falleen took the first few moments on the ground to double check his inventory of weapons. Their bounty permit had been transmitted to the Umgullian security forces, so there shouldn't have been any problems with the locals getting involved.

This was the last place Ravenwing had been seen. Or, rather, Rima Xavier, the alias she was reportedly going by. It had taken a while to find that information, and the Zabrak he'd gotten it from was a reliable slicer. Usually.

The two hunters checked out the race tracks, where Xavier was reportedly spending a lot of time. Hugo did the honors of talking to the bookmakers at the blob track, which had led them to the tertiary port and the ship that Xavier had put up as collateral against her bets. Lucky for her she'd won.

Ecks didn't gamble. Not with his money, anyway.

And... there she was. A tall, angular human female with short black hair, sunglasses, and company. Montegue made to move, but Ecks put out a stilling hand.

"Kid."

A tiny blonde girl walked at the woman's side, disappearing into the ship with her. Not Ravenwing's - the woman had no recorded pregnancies. It was possible that she had delivered with no doctors or med droids, but unlikely, especially considering that the girl shared no familial resemblance.

Was this a kidnapping? A job? Or was the child part of the reason Ravenwing carried such a high bounty?

One of the Sergeants that had trained Hugo way back when in the Senate Commandos had always told him that it wasn't enough to simply know your enemy. You needed to know your battlefield too, and the kind of additional complications that such things could generate. If you were boarding a starship, you needed to know your way around; not just your way to the objective, but your way to alternate points of interest if things went wrong - as they invariably did. If you were visiting a planet, you needed to know the local laws, and the local law enforcement that could get in your way; and local militias, crime syndicates, and mercenary groups that a fugative from the Senate could employ to aid in their flight from justice.

It had become so ingrained in his consciousness that as a bounty hunter, he continued to do the same. Thus, he'd spent most of the time in hyperspace becoming an expert on the planet Umgul. Fortunately for him, there hadn't been much to learn: the planet was relatively unimportant and unsuspecting, with very little of interest to anyone in the galaxy, save for enthusiasts of the bizzare past-time of competatively racing protoplasmic, gelatinous blobs.

In the interests of being thorough, he'd learned enough about Blob Racing to decode any local trends and turns of phrase, which had helped him to translate the otherwise incoherant dren that the bookies were rambling on about. Unfortunately, he feared that no matter how long he lived and how much more he learned, he'd never be able to rid his mind of the otherwise useless trivia his efforts had garnered him with.

One of the things his research had allowed him to do was select the appropriate weapons and gear for this particular hit: specifically, equipment that wouldn't pack up after exposure to Umgul's mists. He'd calibrated it too, to compensate for the variances between the gravity on Umgul and on the last planet the weapon had been tuned for; as a result, he was somewhat frustrated at having his opportunity to employ his customizations delayed by Ecks.

He followed the Falleen's gaze, eyes settling on the small child inexplicably present with the smuggler. His stated observation was certainly correct: there was most definately a young girl standing beside the smuggler - or at least, what looked like a young girl from this range. He raised his rifle to his eye, sighting through the tactical scope. Yes: definately a small girl; Human, or near enough, if appearence was anything to go by. Why she was there though, he couldn't decipher at this range; he cursed himself for not having had the illogical spark of forethought to bring audio surveillance equipment with him.

"The background information didn't include any mention of a girl."

He knew Ecks was probably thinking the same thing anyway, but decided it was worth stating. He'd intensively studied their quarry - every encounter, every alias, every criminal charge that he could find reference to - and there was most definately not any mention of a young girl, whether as a relative, victim, or otherwise.

Hugo bit back a curse. There was nothing more frustrating than such glaring evidence that his research wasn't up to scratch.

He shot a glance across at Ecks, and wondered how this would change things. They could certainly storm the place, and take Ravenwing; but there was no guarentee the child would survive the crossfire. The presence of a child certainly compromised his own paternal instincts: but how would it affect his new 'boss'? Was the child an acceptable loss: collateral damage? Or was the hunter scheming about the possible ways he could profit from this new revelation?

"So," Hugo asked, eyes narrowed. "What's our move?"

Stun weapons would take down an adult, but their effects on a child's physiology was mostly untested. He saw the odd headline on the holonet now and then, though, CHILD DIES AFTER COMPLICATIONS FROM STUN BLAST. And if the kid was a kidnap victim or something, that would be serious bad press.

Plus they might get involved in a long and drawn out hostage situation, which was not something Ecks ever wanted to do again, not since Ord Mantell. And then they had no permit filed for a second target. "You hurt the kid, I'll gut you myself," Ecks grunted.

Unexpectedly the ship fired up, the sublights glowing and then burning bright just as Eck's comm pinged with a message from Umgul Port Control. With no time for a committee decision the Falleen reached into his holdall and ran towards the freighter.

With a heave he threw an object at the ship, and there was an inaudible (over the growing roar of the sublights) metallic ping as it fused to the hull. The Rover Tracking device would transmit range, direction, and speed to Razor's Edge, giving the hunters a good idea where Ravenwing was headed.

Ecks' topknot of long black hair blew in the updraft as the freighter shot up into the atmosphere. With any luck, they'd be able to get there first.

Well, that certainly made that issue a lot clearer. It also revealed that Ecks had at least a shred of morality in him, which filled Hugo with a glimmer of reassurance in his new pseudo-employer. It may well have been the only line that the bounty hunter would not cross, but at least it was something. There was nothing worse than a killer without morals: those kinds of hunters were animals, not to mention dangerous to everyone around them.

Having learned one new detail about Ecks made him wonder just how much more about the bounty hunter he didn't know. Just on related topics, was there an Ecks Junior kicking around the galaxy somewhere; did the Falleen fight for the funds to support a family? Was there some dark and mysterious - or painful, even - reason for there not to be an Ecks Junior? Part of him wanted to ask; a greater part reminded him of the number of weapons Ecks had about his person, and pointed out how unsound an idea such an inquiry might be.

Hugo watched in silence as the Falleen bowled the tracking device towards the fleeing transport, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly against the gust of displaced air as repulsorlifts heaved the craft off the surface, and the sublight drives kicked in. "We should get moving," he stated simply; there was no need to explain why.

He rose from the position of concealment they'd adopted, and felt his knees sieze a little in protest. The cramped conditions within Ecks' ship hadn't been kind to him - maybe he should have insisted that they use his ship, after all? - and his mind was filled with scattered memories of similarly uncomfortable trips aboard Republic troop ships back during the Clone Wars. A wave of nostalgia for his old blue armour washed over him; not to mention for the squads of disposable soldiers bred specifically to take blaster hits instead of him. Life had been simpler back then.

He glanced down at the rifle in his hands, and fought a smile. Simpler, but less fun.

Ecks turned and jogged back towards Montegue, and the pair made good time as they returned to Razor's Edge. They didn't have to push through the rowdy and drunk crowds and dazzling holographic displays so much as a path formed in front of them.

The thorn-shaped vessel Ecks called home most of the time was already receiving telemetry from the Rover when they arrived, and he translated it through the navicomp while Montegue informed Port Control of their imminent departure. Technically the cockpit was built to hold two, but Ecks wasn't a small being and Hugo was no Llewelyn Voss. Their shoulders nearly brushed every time either of them moved.

"Looks like... Brema or Garris Sector. Hydian way towards the Outer Rim." That didn't narrow it down much, except that she was headed somewhere relatively close as opposed to towards the Core.

He finished prepping the ship as the navicomp provided acceptable jump coordinates, activating the repulsorlifts just as Hugo got the go-ahead from the port.

Hugo's mind plugged into the astronav part of his brain, recalling as best he could what lay in proximity to the "galactic south" extent of the Hydian Way. Eriadu, where Empress Tarkin's uncle - the infamous Grand Moff Tarkin - was was from, was out in this part of space; on the other hand, so was Alliance-controlled Sullust. Hugo wasn't sure which out of Rebel and Imperial entanglements had the potential to be more complicating to their mission; but if that was a question that didn't wind up being clarified any time soon, he'd be happy with that.

Longer trips might take them to somewhere like Mustafar or Utapau. The thought of the former - the volcanic hellhole where the leaders of the Separatists had apparently taken their final refuge - made him shudder. He'd visited Mustafar - Utapau too, during his grand, retirement tour of the old, major Clone Wars battlefields a decade or so ago - only once, and was pretty sure that he still hadn't replaced all of the fluids that wretched place had sucked out of his system.

In either case, they'd be gaining fast enough through Hyperspace that, when Ravenwing reverted for her course corrections to either, they'd be on top of her before she had a chance to recalculate her jump coordinates. Hugo contemplated that eventuality briefly, thinking back to the cursory glances about the ship he'd been making periodically, to glean what he could about its specs - a more probing investigation would have been bad manners for a guest aboard, after all.

He frowned, scrubbing at his stubbled jaw with his off-hand, to avoid jossling the pilot. "Got any ion cannons on this thing, or have we gotta shadow her covertly until she finds some place to set down?"

"Ion cannon," Ecks grunted in the affirmative, pointing a green skinned hand at the weapons systems. The standard plasma cannons were there, but there was a third, unmarked control spliced in and bolted roughly to the console. "Enough to make that freighter blink."

He leaned back in his seat, armor creaking, and a smile cracked his face. It felt good to be in the Hunt again. How in the seven hells had he been wrangled into heading up the Guild?

The flight wasn't long from Umgul, and Arya set up the copilot's console with a read-out on the volcanic world of Sullust for Tak. The little girl liked learning as much as she could, though it was hard to get her to sit still for long. Thankfully there were a lot of holographic displays of volcanic eruptions to keep her distracted.

Arya ran a shipwide diagnostic that was overdue, and left it running while she rustled up sandwiches in the galley.

She was mesmerized by the volcanos and eruptions, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as she watched. Tak had never before seen anything like this, and it was amazing! She'd have to tell Wyl about it in her next letter.

Her next letter!

She needed to write Wyl right now! In the excitement of their arrival on Umgul, the little Lupine had completely forgotten to respond back to her husband's message, but now was a great time to do that. She hopped from her seat and skipped her way through the doorway, leaving the holos to play to an empty bridge.

"Feathers!!!"

Feathers was probably getting them food, which was a good thing since she was getting a little hungry. But it still didn't deter her from her ultimate goal, and skipping past the open doorway that led into the galley, she continued on down the corridor to the room the two shared.

"Feathers! I have to write Wyl another letter! Where's my paper and pen?!"

There was something about a child's voice that carried magnificently over any distance and through any obstacle.

"In your drawer under the bunk!" Arya called over her shoulder, slapping some egg and vinegar whip on the bread and adding a heap of cheese and meat. She licked some mustard off her finger and put two sandwiches on her plate and one on Tak's.

"Come and eat! We're -" A beep from the cockpit alerted her that reversion to realspace was coming up. "I have to enter the last jump. Shouldn't be long now."

She left Tak's plate on the table in the galley and took hers and a glass of blue milk up to the cockpit. Arya set the drink on the abandoned co-pilot's console and balanced her food on her lap as she supervised the hyperdrive's operations.

With pen and paper in hand, Tak bolted from their room and dashed her way into the galley. There was her plate - ugh, Feathers put egg and vinegar whip on it! A heaving sigh, and the girl angrily slapped her letter-making tools on the counter. With a scowl, she took the top piece of bread off to scrunch her nose up at the whip. It was gross, and Feathers knew she didn't like it!

Making a face, the little Lupine rebelliously used the edge of the counter to scrape the concoction off. No doubt Feathers would scold her, but frankly Tak didn't mind too much. She could scold her caretaker right back - and with just as much volume as the elder Lupine possessed (though just a little higher pitched).

Replacing her mostly whip-free slice of bread, Tak took the plate, her paper, and her pen, she turned on her heel to head back to the cockpit.

She could eat, write her letter, and watch the holos of Sullust for the rest of their trip, and with any luck Feathers wouldn't see the fruits of her little insurrection until after they'd met up with Dama.

Wing of the Raven, currently using its pirate transponder to transmit that it was the freighter Harbinger out of Chandila, reverted smoothly into realspace in the Omwat system, Garis sector. The navicomp quickly checked the holonet for updated route information, and computed a final jump to Sullust.

Arya took a big bite of her sandwiches, looking sideways at Tak who was trying to get into her chair and move Arya's drink over at the same time. "Be careful!" she said, but it sounded like "Bmf Mmmfmml!"

She reached for the tipping cup of blue milk, but it suddenly jumped at her and splashed its contents all over her. Adult stared at child, and both were momentarily frozen in shocked anger and fear, respectively. Then the ship rocked again, and the warning lights on the console (dripping in milk) alerted Arya to what was really happening.

"Krasst!" Her plate and sandwiches fell to the floor as she grabbed the controls, sending the freighter into a nearly uncontrolled dive and straining the inertial dampners. Tak rose up in her seat as the ship's systems tried to compensate, and Arya's arm flew out to catch the girl before she could crash into the console or viewport.

They had gained up the ground they had lost in hyperspace, and Ecks transitioned them into realspace at the same time as Ravenwing's freighter. He hulked over the steering yoke, arrowing his smaller and more maneuverable craft at the Harbinger, and let Montegue have at it with Razor's weapons.

The first few shots weakened the aft shielding, but did not take out the sublights, and their prey immediately went evasive, rolling its bulk down the Z axis and away. Razor followed, Ecks putting the ship through its paces smoothly and getting what should have been the freighter's main systems directly in front of them.

Harbinger was more agile than its size suggested, and was already rabbiting starboard, an impressive spiral dodge that must have had the occupants pinned into their seats with g-forces. Ecks narrowed his eyes and flew straight towards it, the sleeker Razor cutting through space and catching up.

Hugo scowled, wrestling with the awkwardly poised weapons controls. In the same way that the cockpit of the Razor made little concession for the presence of two ordinary-sized individuals - well, an ordinary sized Hugo, and an over-sized Ecks - it's configuration apparently favoured a single operator more than it did two. That made sense, of course, given its usual sole pilot, but it did make trying to hit the escaping Harbinger a touch more difficult than it could have been. Especially when Ecks kept piloting the thing all over the damn sky while trailing Ravenwing.

I'd give my arm for a nice, comfy gun turret about now, he mused, depressing the ion cannon controls to loose another salvo. His arm ground uncomfortably against Ecks' shoulder as he did so. Hell, I'd give my arm just to stop it bashing against him.

The icy blue shots of ion fire flew wide; Hugo clenched his teeth. "Back off a little," he requested, eyes narrowing at the targetting information on his display. "Give me a little more space to work out which way she'll be turning next."