The Rise of Pulsar Company/Chapter 4

Nax awoke to feel something warm resting on his right arm. He rolled his head over, and saw a white mess of hair on top of his arm. Kyra rolled her head over, exposing her face to Nax, still asleep, but smiling peacefully. Trying to move his arm, he found he lacked the strength, primarily because, well, his arm had fallen asleep.

Looking over to the corner, he spotted Arfive, silently observing the pair. The droid evidently noticed Nax looking at him, so he used his manipulator arm to wave, but otherwise said nothing. Nax tried to wave back with his free arm, but a sudden piercing sensation put an end to that.

Right, couldn’t use that for the next few days.

Relaxing into the softness of the bed, he felt Kyra’s weight lift from his arm. He looked over to see her stretching and yawning, and she slowly opened her eyes. She looked down where her head used to be, and then looked at Nax. “…Morning.” she said, tired, but content.

“Morning.” Nax responded, before sitting up in bed.

Yawning, Kyra sat in bed next to Nax, and leaned up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “How’s your arm doing?” she asked with considerable concern in her voice.

Nax tried moving his arm around again, and flinched at the stinging sensation. “I can move it, but it hurts like hell. Probably gonna be out of action for, I dunno, two days?” he shrugged. “Maybe less if I want to tough the pain out. What about you?”

Sitting up straight, Kyra began to feel around her body, touching where Nax had bandaged her. Se pressed down a few times, showing no reaction. “Seems fine?” she pressed down on her stomach. “It’s a bit numb and I can’t feel in some places, but I’m fine otherwise.” she said, before resting her head back on Nax’s shoulder. “…I’ll get these bandages off in a bit, then I’ll make you breakfast,” Kyra looked up at Nax. “Er... can we just… sit like this? At least for a little while longer?” Kyra nervously asked.

Pursing his lips, Nax rolled his head to the side. “…Sure..?”

Wrapping her arm around Nax’s back, Kyra pulled herself closer to him.

--

The garrison was abuzz with activity this morning. Junior officers were running around, trying to finish whatever they hadn’t yesterday, or were running around with new orders. Some of the new recruits were fumbling around with their training blasters, right in front of their drill instructor, an aged Clone veteran, from the 41st Elite Corps, if Gaffi’s memory served. All eyes were on him, and everyone who noticed him took a second to salute, before returning to their duties.

As Gaffi walked into his office, his XO, Wilhem saluted him. “Good morning, sir.” he greeted. Wilhem was a veteran of the Clone Wars, much like Gaffi, but despite them being around the same age, Wilhem looked far, far older. His sharp, angular features, graying hair, and scarred skin actually made him look closer to a battle hardened Grand Moff Tarkin, and he’d been confused by the recruits for the Grand Moff on more than one occasion, though he learned to take it in stride.

Gaffi saluted back. “At ease.”

Wilhem relaxed, setting his hands on his desk. “Sir, Forensics came back with fingerprints and the blood sample from the building. I also dug up a report from one of the stormtrooper patrols that you may want to look at. It’s related to the sudden arrival of Lostur in the system.”

Gaffi nodded once. “Thank you, Wilhem. Now, has Imperial Intelligence decided to give me the time of day?”

Wilhem nodded. “Yes, sir. They’ll run the planetary scan you requested “soon,” whenever that is.”

Gaffi laughed. “Of course, I expected nothing less from the Imperial Bureaucracy. Now, did you have anything else for me?”

Quickly checking his datapad, he turned back to Gaffi. “No, sir.”

“As you were.” Gaffi said, before heading towards his desk and sitting down. He picked up the datapad that had been left on his desk by Wilhem, turned it on, and flicked to the report from the patrol.

''Tatooine Imperial Garrison Incident Report #466.21b''

''At fourteen hundred hours, last Primeday, Stormtrooper Patrol Team 22, consisting of TK-302, TK-421, TK-032, TK-912, and TK-654, was returning to the Garrison at the end of patrol duties. At the front entrance, they encountered one Trandoshan male, one Human male, and one Weequay female harassing one masked Human female sitting in a parked X-34 Landspeeder, identification plates indicate the owner being one Nax Strag, a licensed bounty hunter who was turning in a bounty on Vark Rurmiid at the time. When questioned by TK-421 as to their intentions at the garrison, the group refused to answer. When TK-421 repeated himself, the Trandoshan attempted to grab the woman from the speeder, exclaiming “Just reclaiming our property!” before being shot and killed by TK-421. The Human and the Weequay escaped into the crowd, unharmed.''

Gaffi flicked down to see the corpse of the deceased Trandoshan on an autopsy table. Underneath it was a line of text that read out:

''Unidentified Trandoshan Joh Da, confirmed nickname Slev, refer to seized datapad 470.24-E1 in evidence locker.''

Gaffi moved his chair back and pulled the referenced datapad, the one TK-421 and his squad had seized yesterday. Turning it on, he checked the journal function.

''Kaz, Bolthead, and Slev found that slave whore that got off the Bantha today. Bitch was hiding in plain sight, probably would’ve walked right by her if Slev wasn’t there. Unfortunately, the moron inside of him tried to grab her in front of the fragging Imps, and he got shot for his trouble. Not a big loss in my opinion, but who cares?''

Gaffi flicked further ahead.

''Dav and his buddies got double crossed, Kaz and Bolthead found his sorry ass, and found out that the girl was working as a mercenary or something. Turns out, she’s got her own little guardian angel! Ha! He’s tall, got pale skin, short black hair and a stubble, usually wears a duster and big stupid hat. Name’s Nax, according to one of Dav’s girlfriends. Lostur sent down that Zeltron whore for us to use if we ever find him.''

The entry ended there, and Gaffi flicked to the most recent entry.

''I can’t believe our luck! I found that Nax kid talking to one of the gun dealers in the bazaar. I trailed them all across the city, got the rest of the team in position, and clubbed them both! They’re both sitting in the basement right now, out cold and tied up. They must’ve been friends or something, cause when we raided the place we found tons of ammo and not a credit to spare. Found a ton of 6-2 Slugs though, saves me the cash on resupply. We’ll use the Zeltron whore on him, get the other whore, be back on the Cranky Bantha within a day, and Allo’ll pay us so we can rub it in that bitch Kaz’s face. Not sure what to do about Nax and his buddy though, maybe kill them both in front of the whore to set an example. Ha!''

Setting the datapad down, Gaffi picked up the one left by the forensics team.

''We’ve finished analyzing the weapons and corpses brought in by TK-421’s fireteam. Fingerprinting confirms that all weapons in the building were handled by the deceased, however, the recovered T21 and one of the EC-17s have the fingerprints of one Thel Novar, a licensed weapons dealer who usually sets up in the bazaar near Kerner Plaza. The other EC-17 and DL-44 carry the fingerprints of Nax Strag, a bounty hunter that we took a blood sample of a month ago as part of the IPKC process, one that also recently turned in Vark Rurmiid. In addition, the blood samples taken from the trail match perfectly with those we took for Nax Strag. The corpses are in the morgue if you need to take a closer look.''

Gaffi put the datapad back on his desk, and scratched the side of his face, trying to decide what to do. Lostur and his men were obviously after an escaped slave, two if he counted the missing Zeltron. That same escaped slave was also probably the woman in Nax’s landspeeder, the one the Trandoshan tried to grab.

As competent as his Stormtroopers were, they’d never be able to get a solid lead on Lostur, let alone a way onto the Bantha. He would need bait, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. “Wilhem!” he shouted, and the officer looked behind himself. “Have my shuttle ready in fifteen minutes.” he said as he pulled out the registry datapad, looking for the Strag homestead’s coordinates.

“Yes, sir.”

--

Nax held out the detached shotgun pump as Kyra carefully used a fusion cutter to remove the foregrip. She was being incredibly careful to not slice Nax’s fingers off, or worse, his entire hand. Finally, the foregrip fell to the ground, and Kyra picked it up. “I… still don’t get the point of doing this.” Kyra said, examining the severed foregrip.

Nax flipped the pump, set it on the ground, took the foregrip from Kyra, and then set that on the end that would face the ground when re-attached to the shotgun. “It’s to make it more ergonomic.” Nax responded. “Arfive?” he said, and the droid chipped and whirred, before he pulled out his arc welder and began to weld the foregrip into its new position.

“But how?” Kyra asked, still confused.

When he was sure that Arfive had welded it into position, he stood up and handed Kyra the scatter gun. “Hold it in your right hand.”

“Okay…?”

“Now, put your left hand right about… here.” Nax said, pointing towards the side where the pump went. “Now, rotate your hand so that your thumb is facing the gun.” he continued, and Kyra did exactly that. “Try pumping it.”

Kyra tried, and she kept fumbling around with it. “Wow, that’s… really stupid. Why would they design it like that?”

Nax shrugged with his right arm. “Blame Araykd. They made the initial design.” Nax tapped underneath the gun with his finger. “Anyways, what I’m trying to do is make it so that foregrip piece sits under the gun. Try holding it here?”

Putting her hand under the gun, Kyra tried to pump it again, this time not fumbling with it nearly as much, and she visibly had an easier time. “Ooohhh, I see!” Kyra said, pleased with herself for finally understanding. “It’s harder to do from the side than from the bottom, isn’t it?”

Nax nodded, and Kyra smiled at herself. Before they could continue talking any further, they heard a… ship engine? Kyra set the gun back on the workbench, and both of them ran outside to see a grey, rectangular shuttle with three wings forming a lambda symbol flying overhead. It set down not too far from the front entrance, cockpit facing the house, and Arfive came out too, curious as to what was going on.

A boarding ramp came down from underneath the cockpit, and four Stormtroopers came out carrying longblasters, flanking an Imperial officer. “Nax Strag?” he shouted. “It’s Captain Mazz Gaffi, from the Imperial Garrison in Mos Eisley! I have some things to discuss with you!”

Nax, Arfive, and Kyra all went back inside, holding the door open for the captain and his men, who calmly walked inside, blasters at ease. “Gaffi? What’s this all about?” Nax asked as he headed downstairs.

Gaffi stared at Nax, his Stormtrooper entourage obediently following him. “The Empire has many eyes and ears, and it’s come to our attention that you’re being… targeted, for lack of a better word. Specifically, we believe that she,” he pointed to Kyra. “..is the one being targeted.”

Nax glanced back at him as they entered the living room, and then at Kyra.

Everyone except for the Stormtroopers and Arfive sat down, with Arfive remaining stationary near Kyra, while the Stormtroopers stood behind Gaffi, who leaned in. “Do you have ''any idea'' who it is that’s targeting you?” he asked, making his tension and concern known.

“Slavers, right?” Nax responded, leaning back into the couch, almost knocking a glass of water over with his arm.

“That’s only part of what they are. The person, or, well, people chasing after you are part of a band of marauders, pirates, slavers, and every other brand of degenerate in the Outer Rim known as Lostur’s Marauders. Their leader, Allo Lostur has the death sentence in forty star systems. Not once has he been brought down in over twenty years.” Gaffi leaned in closer. “And he’s delivered himself right to the Empire’s doorstep.”

Nax raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of water from the glass he almost knocked over. “Okay, so you came to me to ask me to hunt this guy down?”

Gaffi nodded. “That was part of the reason why I came here, yes.”

Nax continued drinking. “What’s his bounty?”

“One hundred thousand credits, dead, one hundred fifty thousand.”

Nax almost spat his drink out and had to physically restrain himself, Arfive went crazy, and Kyra actually shot up straight. “There’s no way that’s the real bounty.” she said, totally shocked.

Gaffi fished around and pulled out a datapad. “It is.”

''WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: ALLO LOSTUR''

There was a picture of a Weequay with a heavily scarred face. He was wearing a combat helmet, had green goggles on, and was missing an eye, the left one, to be specific.

''WANTED FOR ENSLAVEMENT, DEALING IN SLAVES, WAR CRIMES, SMUGGLING OF ILLEGAL CONTRABAND, CRIMES AGAINST THE EMPIRE, ASSAULT OF IMPERIAL OFFICIALS, MURDER OF IMPERIAL OFFICIALS, ASSAULT AND BATTERY, ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON, CONSPIRING TO CONSORT WITH INSURGENTS, ARSON, FIRING ON IMPERIAL VESSELS, KIDNAPPING, RANSOM…''

The list went on and on, and was incredibly lengthy, longer than any of them had expected.

''BOUNTY: 100,000 CREDITS DEAD, 150,000 ALIVE''

Nax whistled in astonishment, and then looked over at Kyra. “That’s more than enough to buy that starfighter and get us off the planet, Kyra.” he then looked over to Gaffi. “…What’s the catch?”

Gaffi took in a deep breath. “You will be put into the Imperial Witness Protection program. All Stormtroopers in Mos Eisley will know who you two are, why you’re important, and that anyone going after you is probably working for Lostur. In addition, you’ll also be working exclusively for me to take out certain enemies of the Empire. I’m offering a three thousand credit bounty on each one you bring in, five thousand if it turns out they’re a member of Lostur’s Marauders, six thousand for insurgent leaders.”

Nax leaned forward, visibly thinking about accepting it. “Believe me,” Gaffi suddenly said, “ I want this scum brought down hard, and my plan involves you two helping, but if you don’t want to, then I won’t force you two to. That said,” he turned to Kyra. “I can’t leave here without knowing a few more things; you are the first person we know of to have gotten off of the Cranky Bantha alive. Can you tell us anything about the situation up there?”

Kyra briefly froze up. “I… uh…” she stumbled, before brushing some hair out of her face. She was visibly tense, staring off into the distance, right through Gaffi. “They…” Gaffi waved his hand, gesturing for her to speak. Her head sunk, and Kyra stared down at the floor. Arfive let out a long, sad beep, and rolled up to Kyra, beeping at her, trying to get through to her. Kyra reached out and pet Arfive’s head, before looking up at Gaffi. “…I killed… twenty of them, roughly. That was before I got off the ship.”

Gaffi narrowed his eyes at her. “Miss… Kyra, is it? I’ve no time for…” he stopped himself short as Arfive suddenly started playing a hologram on the table in front of everyone. Through the blue filter, they could clearly see an oil slick being spat out from just below the camera in a corridor. The camera then rotated around to Kyra in her slave rags, and the hologram played Arfive’s distinctive chirping. There was a loudening sound of multiple footsteps on the durasteel floors, and then Arfive moved closer to Kyra, with the camera turned to the oil slick. Multiple men came running, and slipped on the slick, falling down. The camera then picked up audio of a blaster firing, and the slick caught fire, burning twenty some people alive, and the recording ended. “…games.” Gaffi finished, astonished. “…So you did.” Arfive chirped and whirred, proud of himself for helping Kyra kill her pursuers. His eyes raced around, and he pulled out a datapad, jotting down some things onto it.

Kyra stared blanky, not at Gaffi, but through him. “I don’t remember much of what was going on up there… Lexi, my cellmate, was on the ship longer than I was. You’d probably get more information out of her than you would me.”

“…Lexi…?”

“My Zeltron cellmate. Nax got her away from them when they brought her to the surface, and she’s staying with his friend, Thel.”

“I-“ Gaffi started. but suddenly, his commlink buzzed in his ear, and he pressed down on it. “Yes, Wilhem, what is it?”

…

“I’ll be right there.” he said, and he pulled his fingers off the commlink. “So sorry to cut this short, but something important has come up that requires my attention. If you do decide to accept my offer, come see me at the Garrison.”

With that, Gaffi got up and left with his Stormtroopers. Nax and Kyra both waited until they heard the shuttle take off to even consider talking. There was still an uncomfortable silence between the two, with the only sounds in the living room being Arfive’s mechanical whirrs and chirps.

Kyra was the first to speak. “…I… don’t think we should take his offer.”

Leaning back into the couch, Nax took a sip from his glass. “Why not?”

Kyra’s hair fell in front of her face as she retreated into the scared, escaped slave she was a few days ago. “I don’t want to be near his men any longer than I have to.” Moving over to Kyra and brushing her hair out of her face, Nax made eye contact. She was visibly scared at the prospect of having to bring Lostur down. “…What if we get captured? I’ll be thrown back into slavery, you’ll be killed…” Kyra lowered her head. “…I just want to leave as soon as possible.”

Nax pushed her chin up to maintain eye contact. “Kyra,” he said to get her attention. “If we leave without putting him down, and if he’s relentless as that bounty suggests, what makes you think he won’t come after you when we’re off Tatooine?” Nax questioned, and Kyra’s eyes started racing around. “If we leave without putting him down, who’s to say he won’t track you down and throw you back into slavery?” he put his hands on her shoulders. “With that bounty, we’ll have more than enough money for ourselves after I buy the starfighter.” Shaking her head, Kyra broke eye contact, hiding her face behind her hair. “Besides, you heard what he said, the Stormtroopers in Mos Eisley will know we’re under protection. They’ll shoot at Lostur’s men if they see us getting attacked. I’d rather have Stormtroopers backing us up than nothing at all.”

“I know, I just…” she shrugged, defeated. “…don’t know if I want to expose myself like that.” she said, before resting her head on Nax’s shoulder, and he flinched at the sudden pressure on his injured arm, but it wasn’t significant, so he ignored it.

“You don’t have to decide now, we’re not going anywhere for the next few days. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.” Nax said quietly, in a comforting tone of voice, and Kyra made a sound that sounded like grateful acceptance.

--

Looking over the planetary scan of Tatooine in the operations center of the Garrison, Gaffi kept seeing the same thing, which was to say, nothing at all.

''“Where? Where is it?”'' he thought to himself, hastily looking over the hologram of Tatooine and the space around it.

“Something the matter, sir?” one of his Stormtrooper guards asked. “You look troubled.”

Gaffi glanced over at him. “Do you see any ships in orbit?” he asked. Maybe the Stormtrooper had seen something he himself had missed.

The Stormtrooper leaned in close, and scanned the hologram. He took his left hand off of his longblaster and pointed in the air above Mos Eisley’s geographic location. “I think I see one here, sir.” he said, and he tapped a small speck. The hologram of Tatooine disappeared, and a different hologram, one of a Corellian Corvette, appeared.

The corvette was obviously a retrofitted CR70, using the aftermarket Vanguard c20 suite that CEC started offering around the time the CR90 came around. The rear engines bore the same half cylindrical shielding that wrapped from the dorsal part of the ship to the underbelly, except someone had elongated them to fully cover the engines instead of only partly, as well as adding small “spikes” that stretched out roughly to the airlocks. Deterring boarders, maybe?

Branded on both sides of the engine shield was a skull shaped like a Stormtrooper helmet, with a longblaster and vibrosword directly behind it. In addition, it had two quad turbolaser batteries along the spine of the ship, something that would put an extreme amount of stress on the power output of the CR70, even a Vanguard, unless, of course, the power source was a superior aftermarket model, which it probably was.

Along the port and starboard sides of the ship were four quad laser cannons. Not turbolasers, regular laser cannons for anti-fighter purposes. They were split up and set along the sides, two facing to port, two facing to starboard. Underneath the ship, docked to the ventral airlock, was a YT-2400 freighter, although it was too small to be able to make out any specific details. Gaffi then noticed some faded Aurebesh script below the laser cannons. The script read out “THE CRANKY BANTHA” in what was probably dark red, judging by how it looked like it was dripping down off the hull of the ship, maybe to mimic blood, maybe just a poor paint job. He then noticed a faded “’S CALL” at the end, almost invisible, but still there.

Moving to the front of the ship, Gaffi made note of the two laser cannons sticking out of the front, as well as what appeared to be a concussion missile tube underneath the bridge; strange choices for a corvette, but still noteworthy additions to the already considerable firepower the ship was carrying.

Tapping on the hologram, an information readout appeared.

''// SHIP CLASS: CORELLIAN CR70 CORVETTE, SCAN INDICATES VANGUARD C20 RETROFIT FEATURES//''

''// REPORTING NAME: KAZ’S PRIDE //''

''// ARMAMENT: QUAD TURBOLASERS (x2), MANUFACTURER UNKNOWN, QUAD LASER CANNONS (x4), MANUFACTURER UNKNOWN, SHIPCRACKER CONCUSSION MISSILE LAUNCHER (x1), MANUFACTURER UNKNOWN, CORELLIAN ENGINEERING CORPORATION AG-1G LASER CANNON (x2) //''

So that was it, then. The Cranky Bantha really was in orbit, and it slipped right under Gaffi’s nose. Closing his right hand, Gaffi put it to his mouth, thinking about how best to proceed. An immediate attack would be tantamount to suicide, the laser cannons would chew any TIEs apart in seconds, not to mention the missile launchers and lack of any support ships.

Calling in an entire fleet was out of the question, he was but a simple garrison commander, they’d laugh him right back to square one, or court martial him if they did actually send a fleet out and Lostur ran away.

Having Stormtroopers come down on Lostur’s men would be an even worse idea; Lostur wasn’t stupid, he’d know the Empire was after him and would bug out of the system, blowing Gaffi’s chance at bringing him in.

As he pondered what to do, something suddenly came to mind; Lostur wouldn’t be able to run away if his ship was stuck in the system. Gaffi pressed a few buttons on the hologram table, and the hologram of the Cranky Bantha disappeared, replaced by a sort of holographic menu. The captain flicked through several names, along the likes of Aggressor, Hydra, Cerberus, and Assaulter, until he found what he was looking for;

Sandtrap.

His ace in the hole.

Gaffi dismissed his Stormtroopers from the operations center, and prepared to make a call.

--

Swirling a glass of juri juice in his right hand, Lostur rested his head on his left hand, practically bored to tears since the bridge was all quiet. Kaz and her team were due to check in soon, hopefully with something good from the blood sample.

His Twi’lek slave could tell he was bored, and so she started trying to seduce him, posing in various suggestive ways, always making sure he could see just a little bit more of her than he normally would, or rubbing her skin just a bit longer against him.

Lostur was actually about to get up and take her to his quarters, when the commlink went off in his ear, and she backed off. instinctively, returning to the side of his chair.

Before he had a chance to speak, Kaz cut in. “Boss, we ‘ot the blood ‘ested.”

“And?”

''“Only got a surname. It’s Strag.”''

Lostur gulped the remainder of his juri juice down. “Strag, huh?” he said, before pushing the Twi’lek further away from himself. That name carried some bitter, angry feelings with it for Lostur, but he wasn’t sure why. “Well, in that case, that was our last real lead, we’re flying blind again. If you can, find the Zeltron. She might know where the slave went.” Lostur ordered, twirling his slave’s lekku around idly.

The previously quiet bridge suddenly exploded with a lot of shouting and yelling, startling the slave girl, causing her to jump, but her chain kept her tied to Lostur’s chair. ''“What the ‘ell is going on up there?!”'' Kaz demanded to know.

One of the bridge crew ran up to him. “S-sir! Something big’s coming out of hyperspace!” he shouted and stammered, and Lostur got up, running to the front viewport. The airless, lifeless void showed no sign of changing, the only things preventing it from being pitch black being Tatooine itself, and the twinkling stars of the Arkanis sector.

That was, of course, until a ship came out of hyperspace.

A Star Destroyer, to be exact.

Lostur blinked twice, and then squinted to make sure he was seeing right. Sure enough, there was an Imperial Star Destroyer, within view of his ship, that had just hyperspaced into the system. He’d tangled with his fair share of Venators in the past, but never an Imperial Star Destroyer. “Boss?!” Kaz shouted into her commlink, as if reminding him that she was still there.

“We’ve got problems. A Star Destroyer just jumped into the system.” he squinted, and then noticed three Dreadnaught-class heavy cruisers sitting in its shadow. Lostur also noticed four symmetrical balls that poked through the hull, on both the dorsal and ventral part of the ship. “Sithspit! Scratch that, we’ve got bigger problems. It’s an Interdictor, it’s got escorts!” he yelled, mentally cursing himself for not fleeing from the system beforehand, and instead simply letting the teams do their job. Lostur turned back to the bridge crew that were still at their stations. “Is it doing anything?!”

One of the crew who was monitoring the power output of the Interdictor half turned to the front of the bridge, facing Lostur. “No, sir! Power levels seem normal!”

“Weapons?”

“Not charging, sir!”

Lostur quietly breathed a sigh of relief, but whatever he was about to say, he was interrupted by another crewmember. “I.. Captain, sir… with all due respect,” he nervously said, afraid of retribution. “…we don’t know if they’re here for us; it could simply be a routine patrol.”

Crossing his arms, Lostur turned back to the viewport. “Exactly. Glad to see someone on this fragging ship kept their brains,” he growled, angrily looking over the crew, “..but I would rather be safe than dead.” he finished, and then pressed down back on the commlink. “Kaz, begin Communication Protocol Delta.”

Kaz didn’t respond, and the commlink clicked off. “Smart girl.”  he thought, and then grabbed a nearby intercom. “Attention all pirates, slavers, and other business associates on my ship! An Interdictor class Star Destroyer has entered the system with escorts! They’re not doing anything right now, but running away isn’t exactly possible, so we’re initiating Communication Protocol Delta and waiting for them to move on! Not a single transmission is to be sent off of this ship, and I’ll kill anyone that does!” he yelled, before hanging it back up.

One of the bridge crew still staring out at the viewport looked at him like he was crazy.

--

Jace Weyland stood proudly on the bridge of the Sandtrap, surrounded by his bridge officers, arms behind his back and chest held high. He was a young officer in his mid twenties, and looked very much like a greenhorn. He wasn’t as experienced as many of his senior officers, nor was he a veteran of the Clone Wars like his father before him. He didn’t even become captain of the Sandtrap through demonstration of leadership ability or skill as a captain, no, he became captain through nepotism from his mother’s connections. That’s not, of course, to say that he wasn’t a competent leader; he’d more than managed to prove himself to the crew. He just became captain in a… less than ideal way.

As he looked around, he saw all officers on deck working diligently at their stations. A year ago, they would have been staring at him like dumbfounded children, or ignoring orders, but now they were a tightly knit crew, working as efficiently as an the crew of an Interdictor-class could.

While catching pirates and occasionally helping put down insurgent strikes in space was part of the job of an Interdictor’s crew, given the gravity well generators, everything he had accomplished in the year since becoming captain of the Sandtrap felt like it hinged on this one moment; catching Allo Lostur and the crew of the Cranky Bantha alive.

Lostur was a wanted criminal since the time of the Republic. As Jace walked back towards the bridge holocomm, one of the bridge crew at the sensor terminals got his attention. “Captain, sir! We’ve spotted our target! What are your orders?” he asked.

Leaning over his shoulder, Weyland looked at the terminal. On screen was a Corellian CR70, clearly retrofitted with the Vanguard C20 suite, something a lot more common with poorer pirates who couldn’t afford a CR90. What caught Jace’s eye, though, was the armament. Two dorsal quad turbolasers, four quad laser cannons split on the starboard and port sides of the ship, two forward facing laser cannons, and a ventral missile launcher. While the Sandtrap WAS based on the Imperial Star Destroyer, and could probably take a good beating from the ship with the gravity wells off, the Dreadnaughts might not fare so well. Attached to the ventral part of the ship was a YT-2400, of far less concern than the armament.

“Keep tracking that ship. If they try to jump into hyperspace, turn the gravity wells on and engage the tractor beams.” he ordered, locking eyes on the crewman.

“Yes, sir.”

Jace walked to the ship holocomm, pressed a button on the terminal, and the holographic image of Mazz Gaffi appeared. Gaffi had known Jace’s father and served with him during the Clone Wars. As a matter of fact, the whole reason he was in the system was due to Gaffi being the only reason his father lived to see the end of the war. Jace instinctively saluted, and Gaffi saluted back. ''“Glad to see you got my message, Jace.”''

“It’s not an issue, sir. I was just in the area when I got your call.” Jace replied respectfully. “The Sandtrap and her escorts are at your command.”

Gaffi cracked a smile. ''“Drop the formalities, Jace. I know your family well enough that you don’t need to talk to me like I’m the Grand Moff himself.”'' he said casually, almost uncharacteristically so.'' “Has your crew spotted the Cranky Bantha?”''

Jace nodded. “Yes, sir. We picked it up on our sensors as soon as we entered the system.” he responded, refusing to drop the formal attitude expected of him. He was the captain of an Interdictor, after all.

Gaffi jokingly rolled his eyes and smirked. “Polite as always, Jace.”

“It’s my job, sir.”

Gaffi coughed loud enough for the holocommunicator to pick it up. ''“Regardless, I called you here because of Lostur. We both know how dangerous he is. Did he try and jump out of the system when you arrived?”''

“No, sir.”

''“…Interesting. Maybe he thinks you’re a routine patrol?”''

“Maybe. That wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. That said, I have the Sandtrap monitoring their systems. If they try to jump, we’ll know and interdict them, and then bring them in with a tractor beam.”

''“Glad to see you taking the initiative, Jace, but we’ll need to formulate a battle plan for when we try to bring them in.”''

“Yes, sir.”

The two of them would go back and forth about tactics for hours on how best to bring the ''Cranky Bantha'' and Lostur in. Suggested tactics included waiting for the YT-2400 to land on the surface, ambushing the crew, and then sneaking on board with a boarding party, launching all 44 TIE/Ins and the 8 TIE/sas in the fleet, disabling the weapons, and then going in with TIE/brs on the port and starboard airlocks. Another suggested strategy was simply pummeling the ship with turbolaser fire until it was disabled, using the tractor beams to hold it in place, and then using TIE/brs to board it.

Eventually, the two of them did come up with a strategy for how to bring Lostur in.

--

Thel turned away from his ammo bench and grabbed some more propellant off the counter. Sitting on the couch looking right at him was Lexi; handcuffed, but otherwise free to move around. Thel started mixing another batch of death stick ammo, pouring the propellant in, and then adding some of the Tibanna sludge, before beginning to stir. “Hey,” she suddenly said. “When’ll Kyra be here?”

Thel continued mixing. “Probably not for a while.” he said, not taking his eyes off of the mixture. “Nax got shot up pretty bad, so I’d imagine they intend on staying home for a while.”

Lexi remained silent, watching him make the ammo. “…What are you making?”

“Special slugthrower ammo.”

She raised an eyebrow. “People still use slugthrowers?”

“Plenty of people still do.”

“…Why?”

Thel smacked the spoon against the bowl to shake some of the mixture out, and then smelled it. Satisfied, he set the spoon down, and walked into the living room, sitting next to Lexi, and he threw his hands behind the couch. “Slugthrowers have a lot of advantages over blasters.”

“…Like…?”

Thel cracked his fingers. “Well, for starters, slugs aren’t nearly as visible. You need to have tracer ammo loaded to get anywhere close to blaster visibility. They can also be suppressed more easily than a blaster.”

“So then why does the Empire use blasters instead of slugthrowers?”

“Because blasters are better for infantry. The main advantage blasters offer is the higher ammo capacity. An assault slugthrower’s magazine is something like, thirty rounds? For about the same weight in a blaster rifle, you can get five hundred shots or so out of a standard cartridge. It’s a lot more cost efficient.”

“Really, now? When I was training to become a gunsmith, I asked about slugthrowers, and the Twi’lek teaching me discarded them wholesale, so I thought they were kinda just… bad.”

Thel raised an eyebrow. “You were training to become a gunsmith?”

“Mhm. Last time I had any practice was… five months ago?”

Thel pursed his lips. “Was that when you were captured?”

Lexi frowned and nodded. “Yeah,” she looked around at the various weapons littering Thel’s walls and furniture. “You sure seem to know your weapons.” she commented, admiring the work.

“’Know’?” Thel asked, a bit insulted. “I practically breathe weapons. I’ve done everything from simple repair jobs on slugthrowers to building entirely custom bodies for military blasters. It’s my lifeblood, and I treat each one like I would one of my kids.”

Lexi’s eyes widened and surprise, and she smiled. “…You wouldn’t happen to be taking on an apprentice, would you?”

Chuckling, Thel scratched the side of his face. “Maybe. I don’t trust you enough to let you go free, let alone let you handle my weapons, but if you gain my trust later, I might consider taking you on.”

Before they could go any further with their conversation, they were interrupted by a few raps on the door. “Hello? Is Thel Novar here? It’s Captain Mazz Gaffi.”

Right. Gaffi. The guy running the Imperial Garrison. Thel cleared his throat, and prepared his standard response for Imperials wanting to talk to him.

“Piss off and come back with a warrant!” he yelled, and he caught Lexi snickering at how blunt he was. None of Thel’s illegal weapons were out, he always kept those locked up in case of a surprise inspection, but the ammo might raise some suspicion.

“We’re not here for an arrest.” Gaffi yelled back.

“I very much doubt that!”

“We’re here to see you regarding your friend Nax, as well as recent events, including one Zeltron who we found missing!”

Thel looked down at Lexi, and she motioned with her head for him to open the door. He stood up, opened the door, and peeked out. Outside of his house was Gaffi staring at him, as well as two Stormtrooper escorts. “Come in.” Thel flatly said, opening the door fully.

As soon as the three of them walked in, Gaffi pinched his nose. “What is that smell?” he asked, sounding confused and disgusted. He then looked over the couch and saw Lexi sitting there, staring expectantly at him. “Ah, you must be Lexi. May we have a seat to explain why we’re here?”

Thel quickly scanned his chairs. “Yeah, sure. Just watch where you sit.” he said, before unnecessarily vaulting over his own couch and returning to where he was. Gaffi and the two Stormtroopers sat down opposite Lexi and Thel, although the Stormtroopers fumbled with their uncomfortable armor.

“She already knows why we’re here,” Gaffi said, gesturing to Lexi, “but as for you, you’re an outsider. Allow us to clue you in,” he cleared his throat. “Your Zeltron friend here, we believe, is a wanted slave by one Allo Lostur.”

“…Who?” Thel asked, and without being commanded to, Gaffi produced a datapad with Lostur’s bounty. “…Holy…” was all Thel could muster to say. The bounty itself was impressive enough, but the crimes committed by Lostur made him think twice about keeping Lexi with him. They actually made what would happen if he didn’t pay his debts look enjoyable.

“Lostur is a known slaver, pirate, smuggler, et cetera et cetera. She,” he gestured to Lexi, “is most likely wanted by Lostur and his crew.”

Thel blinked a few times. “Ignoring the obvious of why they would want an escaped slave back, why do you think they’re after her?”

“Most likely, because they’re looking for another slave.” he said, before producing a different datapad. “Your activities haven’t exactly gone unnoticed, Thel.” he glanced at Lexi, then back to Thel. “We were investigating a discharge incident yesterday, and found a bloodbath, tons of weapons lying around, plus a large blood trail. We took samples, collected evidence, and forensics ran through everything. Both Nax’s and your own fingerprints came back with the results, plus Nax’s blood.” Gaffi explained, turning the datapad on and tossing it to Thel, which he caught midair.

Looking at the datapad, Thel’s eyes widened. “…Nax didn’t tell me… any of this. I thought he had just upset the wrong people by not paying his debts or something.”

“Yes, I was afraid of that.” Gaffi frowned, and turned to Lexi. “Lexi, ma’am, would you mind explaining to us everything you know about Lostur’s purpose here?”

Lexi sat up straight, fully attentive. “Sure?” she said, unsure, before clearing her throat. “Lostur was here to pick up some more slaves for… a pretty big sale on Zygerria, I think. A week before, Kyra, the slave they’re looking for, and the one with,” she turned her head to Thel. “…Nax, right?” she asked, and Thel nodded. “Right, Nax. A week before the ship came up over Tatooine, they kind of just threw Kyra into my cell, unconscious. When she came to, she was totally delirious, and I helped her as best I could. When we finally got to Tatooine, I managed to… seduce one of the guards into getting close so I could knock him out and take the keys to the cell.”

“…Seduce?” Gaffi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I used my natural pheromones to put him in a sort of trance state where he would do what I asked. Regardless, he fell down with the keys out of reach, so I thought we were done for until one of the R5 units they kept with the slaves felt sympathetic and let her out.”

Gaffi raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. “You didn’t run?”

Lexi shook her head. “No. If I had run, they’d have beaten the slaves as punishment. Instead, they just chose to punish me by forcing me to come down and bring her back.”

“…I see.” Gaffi said, jotting some things down on another datapad. “Now, do you know why they’re after her?”

Lexi stretched her limbs and yawned. “I’m not privy to the details, buuut I remember overhearing some of the guards talking about how she was “important,” probably was going to be the main attraction for the sale.” Lexi said, before stopping to scratch her arm with what little space she had to move her hands around. “No idea why she’s so important; she didn’t seem to remember who she was, and the guards didn’t know either.”

“An amnesiac? …Interesting…” Gaffi commented.

“Yeah, from what I heard, Lostur was driving himself insane trying to find Kyra. It’s weird. I’ve been a… slave… for the past five months, and he’s never done anything like… this.”

Thel slouched back into the couch and hung his head over the side. He had half a mind to kick Nax’s ass into the suns, but then again, he clearly had his reasons for not telling him everything about the situation. Gaffi suddenly spoke up, breaking a silence that Thel hadn’t noticed. “Yes, now, as for why we’re actually here…” he went on, and Thel brought his head back up to look at Gaffi. “They’re after her because they want to shake Nax’s location out of her, or you, if they find out you’ve been keeping her. What I would like to do is bring you both into the Imperial Witness Protection program. All Stormtroopers in Mos Eisley will know who you two are, why you’re important, and most importantly, will know to protect you.”

Thel didn’t entirely like what he was hearing. Stormtroopers knowing who he was sounded like a pretty fast way to having his… illegal transactions discovered. “I don’t know.”

“Thel, I offered the same deal to Nax. While he has a spotless record, we cannot say the same for you.” Gaffi suddenly, slowly, and very tensely explained, and Thel immediately caught on. Looks like that went right out the window. Blast. “If you don’t accept, we can’t guarantee your safety… or your freedom.” Thel pursed his lips, now significantly more in favor of the idea. “…but if you do accept, I’d be willing to look over some of your more ‘questionable’ records.”

Time to play coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Thel replied, playing dumb. Gaffi rolled his eyes and pulled up Thel’s personal file on a datapad, listing basically every single illegal transaction he had made.

So much for being sneaky. Thel’d need to step his game up if he didn’t want the Imperials to come knocking later, and they had him by the balls here. “Fine.” he begrudgingly said, tossing his hands up in the air. “Do we need to do anything, or are you going to handle it yourself?”

Gaffi glanced back at the troopers, and took a flashlight from the belt of the one flanking him on the right. Standing up, he pulled out a datapad. “Stand up, and face me, please.”

Thel stood up and looked directly into the datapad as Gaffi flashed the light on him. The a second light flashed from the datapad, and then Gaffi motioned for Lexi to stand up, which she did, and Gaffi repeated the process.

“The Empire appreciates your cooperation, and we’ll take it from here. Thank you.” Gaffi said respectfully, motioning for the Stormtroopers leave. All three of them walked out of the house, leaving Lexi and Thel alone once again.

Thel actually just noticed how late it was getting, what with the orange evening rays shining on Lexi’s pink skin through the window, partially highlighting her features. He saw her crack a smile. “Questionable records, huh?” she laughed.

Thel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, laugh it up. I do work that pays, don’t really care about what the work is.” he reached for his holster and pulled out a DC-15s side arm blaster, albeit a heavily modified one. “This beaut of a DC-15s is the most work I’ve ever put into any one gun. It’s also probably the most illegal weapon I’ve ever made.” he flicked a switch, and the blaster charged up. Thel tapped at the bright blue power cell. “This power cell is basically entirely custom; it’s made from a DL-44 cell, but I removed the need for blaster power packs so that it self charges. Doesn’t pack as much of a punch as a real ’44, but it’s a helluva lot punchier than the regular 15s.” he explained, and Lexi was greatly interested, leaning in close to look at the weapon, the bright blue power cell shining against her skin. Thel then tapped just below the power cell. “Right under the power cell is a custom capacitor I made; lets it hold fifteen shots instead of the regular seven.”

Thel flipped the blaster around and pointed to a lever near where his right thumb normally rested. “This is the fire selector, lets me switch between blaster bolts and stunning.” Thel moved his left hand towards the muzzle. “This big bulky thing on the bottom is a combination of a laser sight, a tactical flashlight, and an EM launcher, all connected directly to the power cell. I also made an entirely custom pistol grip, made a new trigger, set the screen on the back up to accommodate the new tech, added vents for heat, and reinforced and replaced a lot of old parts. None of it legally, since the blaster itself is illegal as hell to own.”

“Lemme guess, Imps wet their panties as soon as they see something even slightly threatening or advantageous against their bucketheads?” Lexi cracked, and Thel erupted into laughter.

“You bet! Then again, we did just accept Imperial protection, so then again I guess we can’t really chat shit now, can we?” he snickered.

Both of them kept laughing about the Empire, until Lexi finally stopped. “So, why’s it actually illegal?” she asked, this time seriously. “Seems to me like it’s just a regular hand blaster.”

Thel calmed down too, and slouched back into the couch. “Well, aside from the fact that it’s a weapon made for special forces, it doesn’t run out of ammo.”

“It doesn’t?” Lexi asked, sounding incredibly surprised.

Thel shook his head. “Nah, it’s got some sort of internal power system that constantly keeps the thing juiced. It doesn’t use gas like most other blasters do, so it’s just a matter of keeping the thing charged, which is automatic. Though, the thing with removing gas from a blaster is that while yes, it does basically mean you can shoot forever, the shots aren’t as powerful.”

“…So you got around the problem by using a DL-44 power cell.” Lexi caught on, and Thel nodded.

“Exactly! It’s probably my favorite piece, hands down. Love it to death, although Trax’s ’44 comes close in terms of how much love and care I put into a gun.”

Lexi smiled at him. After months of being on that shithole corvette, it was an understatement to say that it was nice to finally be able to be treated like a person again and just… discuss things. She didn’t even mind that she was handcuffed; it was just a safety precaution, after all, and Thel hadn’t really done anything that would suggest he was harboring malicious intent.

One of the shutters on the window fell down and hit the floor, letting more rays into the room. “Sonuva-“ Thel cursed, as he got up to fix it. Lexi noticed something in a junk pile in the corner of the room, something reflective. She tried to focus her eyes, and saw that it was some sort of light attached to something, sitting about a meter off the ground. Lexi got up and went over to the pile, peering at whatever it was that was reflective. Under a metaphorical mountain of blaster parts was something flat and cylindrical, with the reflective… thing poking out of it.

Brushing some of the parts on top away, Lexi took an even closer look, and she realized what it was.

It was a droid, an astromech by the looks of things.

Lexi blew some of the dust on top of it off, and she realized what kind of droid it was; a T3 utility droid. Probably thousands of years old, judging by the amount of rust, damage, and general wear and tear on the unit. “My droid catch your eye?” Thel asked casually, leaning down with Lexi to look at it.

“..Yeah. Do you even know what you have here?” Lexi asked, before pausing. “Furthermore, how did you even get this?”

Thel tapped on the droid’s photoreceptor. “Some kinda utility droid, I think. When I still lived with my family, my dad bought it off some Jawas, looked about the same as it does now but it worked back then. Soon as it got inside the house, something blew up inside and it hasn’t worked since.” he said, rubbing his thumb on the photoreceptor to clear some dust off. “My dad chewed the Jawas who sold it to us out, they ended up letting us keep it since they just wanted it gone and gave us an Arfour unit as a replacement. Dad gave this to me as a sort of family project, but we never got around to making it happen. Brought it with me here, and now it’s sitting there.” he said, before pausing and patting the droid on its head. “Why do you ask?”

Lexi rested her wrists on the droid’s top. “This,” she glanced at Thel, “..is a T3 series utility droid. It’s probably thousands of years old,” Thel whistled, “..and is incredibly rare. I’ve seen just three of them in my life, only one was a functional model, the other two were collector’s pieces.”

Thel gently pushed Lexi out of the way and moved some of the parts in front of the unit out of the way. He then stood up half-way and moved the other parts over to the side, revealing the front of the droid’s body. He then grabbed on to a groove in the front, set his hand on the junk piled on top of the back, and pulled it out slowly, grabbing on to the biggest piece of junk so it wouldn’t topple over on top of the two of them. The droid’s wheels had long since withered away, so Thel had to jolt it repeatedly to get it clear, but eventually, he did get it out, and gently set the parts down.

To Lexi’s surprise, the droid looked fully intact, none of the plating was missing, just ridiculously corroded. The photoreceptor lens wasn’t cracked either. Lightly tapping on the casing, she also found that it sounded remarkably intact inside, nothing seemed loose. Lexi glanced up at Thel. “What’re you gonna do with it?”

Thel just exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “Dunno. Maybe fix it and sell it to a collector?”

Gently shaking the deactivated droid, Lexi frowned. “Good luck finding a collector on Tatooine that’s not a Jawa. Did you ever try and fix it yourself?”

“Only took a look at it the night it broke down. Don’t know squat about droids, probably would have broken it further.”

“Ha! Lucky for you, one of my friends was a real gearhead. I don’t know about doing this to a T3, but I could probably fix it working backwards from an Artoo unit. I can practically recite the schematics from memory, what with how much he’s repeated them to me.” Lexi laughed, before her face suddenly seemed devoid of joy, as if she had suddenly realized something, and it crushed her.

Thel didn’t bother pushing her sudden change in demeanor, and instead heard her stomach rumbling. “Maybe, but you can’t really work on an empty stomach, eh?” he joked, ribbing her gently. “I’ll make something to eat.”

--

Lostur sat in his captains chair, staring out of the viewport at the Interdictor. The patrol fleet had jumped in a few hours ago, and hadn’t moved from the spot they arrived in. They were just sitting there, menacingly.

It creeped him the hell out, and it normally took a lot more than just a simple patrol fleet not moving to unnerve a season slaver like himself. Then again, he had never crossed paths with an Interdictor before, so there was that fear of the unknown. Yes, he had heard stories about Interdictors and Immobilizer 418s taking down seasoned pirate veterans, but there’s a very fine line between hearing stories and then seeing the real thing. Lostur twirled his S-5 with his finger around the trigger guard, pondering what exactly to do. If they were indeed after him, he could probably bait the Dreadnaughts away from the Interdictor with the Bantha’s superior engines and destroy them, and then broadside the gravity wells with turbolasers.

Even without squinting, he could tell where exactly the generators were. They were huge, and had to be a massive power drain, which meant that the shields might be weaker whenever they got turned on. Sure, it was based on the hull of an Imperial-class, but it couldn’t be packing the same firepower; the generators alone took up almost half the damned ship.

Idly tapping on his chair, Lostur’s mind wandered to the guy’s surname.

Strag.

''“…Why does that name piss me off so much?” ''Lostur wondered, his head slipping more into his hand the longer he thought about it.

Strag. Strag, Strag, Strag. Just why did that name ring so many bells? Angry bells, too, the kind that Lostur usually associated with jobs gone bad. Or traitors. Traitors angered him like nothing else could.

And then it suddenly hit him.

“Cobro.” he mentally seethed. The next few days were going to be interesting. How nice it would be to meet his kid, after all these years. Maybe even meet Cobro himself again. After all, they still had unfinished business to attend to.