Episode Two: Second Chances

[Kyra Wolfknyght]

In what was quickly becoming a common occurrence, the sound of a light foil cutting the air could be heard coming from the Soul's secondary cargo hold. An area that had been more or less given over to the crew's resident force-user in training. Kyra wove her way through the basic Shii-Cho movements to the more refined Makashi - a style that focused on blade to blade combat and was most suited to the smaller hilt of the light foil. Fluidity of form danced the young woman around the hold in what could be perceived as performance art as much as melee fighting.

Her repeated sessions, both with the blade and in meditation were paying off with a level of focus she'd not been able to reach in many, many months. She has also begun dipping her toe into the Soresu form, which was particularly suited for defense against blasters. The light foil wasn't going to be very effective against much more than a hold-out blaster, but training was training, so she thumbed a switch on her belt, activating a training remote.

The little sphere's repulsor-lift sent it into the air with a swish as the remote kicked into life. Kyra opened herself to the force in an attempt to glean where the remote's randomization sub-routines would send the first numbing bolt of energy. What she found herself most keenly aware of however, was not the remote, but a strong wave of emotion from the general direction of the cockpit. The redhead frowned, absently flicking the remote's first volley out of the air as though it were nothing before she deactivated the device.

The hum of her blade died as well as she made her way to the door of the hold. Kyra's hand hovered over the intercom momentarily before deciding that maybe a walk was more in order. The cargo bay hatchway opened and closed with a thunk at Kyra's exit.

Arden sat in the cockpit, with her knees pulled up to her chest. She stared out at the stars whizing by. It always seemed to calm her, and she needed all the help she could get. Ever since they had their last meeting with Durga, the little pilot was feeling more stress than ever.

She fidgeted with a hole in the arm of her chair and sighed and rubbed her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was that she was tired or if it was stress, but her eyes were watering and burning.

"Arden?" Kyra's voice called from behind the pilot. "Is, uh... Is everything okay?"

Arden nearly jumped out of the seat. As it was, her legs shot out in front of her slamming hard against the console with a sickening crack. Arden grumbled a few choice swear words under her breath as she rubbed her now throbbing knee.

"Oh hey, Kyra," she said with strained politeness, "I didn't see you there." She said wiping the residue of wetness from her eyes. "Y-yeah everything's fine." Her nose punctuated the sentence by giving a large sniff.

Kyra leaned against the bulkhead, crossing her arms over her chest. The 'Uh-huh, right' Arden expected went unspoken and was instead offered a: "You want to talk about it?"

Arden sighed heavily and looked back out the window at the long strings of light. "I don't know," she said after a long pause, "after our little meeting with the slug some..." she thought about her answer, "unfortunate memories." She started fiddling with the whole in the arm of the chair again.

Kyra jockeyed the co-pilot's seat around so she could sit. "Must have been something heavy. Might help if you got it off your chest."

Arden's eyes almost imperceptibly shot sideways towards Kyra and then back to the starfield. For several long moments, Arden said nothing. Finally her mouth opened again. "There's a reason Durga put me on board this ship, and it wasn't just to be a pilot," she sighed heavily again, "Why would anyone honestly believe that someone, especially a Hutt, would just loan out a slave?"

Kyra shrugged. "Not exactly, but I'm not what you would call an expert on the inner workings of a crime lord's mind. I just assumed that you were something of an insurance policy. If something were to happen to Trey, you'd be the one to bring the Soul back to Durga."

Arden chuckled mirthlessly. "Something of an insurance policy," she repeated, "that's a really good way to put it." She pulled her knees back up to her chest again and wound her arms around them. A crinkle of a smile crossed her lips as she thought. "I have no clue why I'm telling you this. We've never really even said as much as hello really."

"You know, I guess we haven't, have we?" Since Trey had agreed to take her on, she'd really only had any extended contact with Bralor. Kyra had initially felt like an outsider for the most part, imposing on the kindness - or the convenience - of a family. However, the more time she spent with this crew, the less they seemed like a family and more like a collection of personalities that only tolerated each other because they were forced to.

Maybe if she could get Arden to open up... The redhead smiled and extended her hand, "Kyra Wolfknyght. Nice to meet you."

Arden chuckled and took Kyra's hand. "Arden Ramis." She wrapped her arms back around her legs. "Your analogy about an insurance policy is pretty close. Durga guards his investments very tightly; he told Trey that he was sending an indentured servant pilot with him to keep Trey on schedule, what he didn't tell Trey was I came on board with much different orders."

Kyra's senses pricked with the wave of conflict that rolled off of Arden. She had an inkling to where this was going. "I take that to mean something... unpleasant?"

"You could say that." Arden said with a sigh. "To put it mildly, Durga hates Trey. He wants to get the money Trey owes him and then get rid of him."

Kyra took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "You're not in an enviable position. You don't do what Durga says and you spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for whoever he sends after you. You do what Durga says and, well..."

"Yeah," Arden nodded, "I never told Bralor and Trey cause in the beginning it was just a job being with them, but now..." Arden felt her eyes begin to sting again as she consciously fought back tears.

"Hey," Kyra reached out a lay a hand on Arden's arm, giving the blonde a little shake, "it's not usually the kind of thing you tell your boss and his big scary Mandolorian buddy the first day on the job."

Arden sniffed heavily. "And then as time went by it just got harder and harder to bring it up. Oh by the way now that we've been together for a year I wanted to tell you that Durga planned on me killing you as soon as you paid him off." She said mockingly. "And then Trey, being the idiot he is goes and offers to buy me! Yeah that would make it easier." Arden buried her head into her knees.

Silence, save for Arden's sniffling, settled between them. Kyra considered the options, none of which seemed to have an outcome that didn't involve Arden coming clean to the others in some way or another. Finally, she spoke, "So what's to stop you from telling them now? You obviously don't want to put a blaster bolt between Trey's eyes... at least not for Durga." She gave the young pilot a small smile. "Come clean. Tell Trey what's at stake, and maybe we can figure a way out of this together."

There was an even harder sniffling from Arden. Then after several long and horrible seconds for the blond she finally looked back up. "I just hope they could forgive me for not telling them sooner."

"I promise I'll do my best not to let them chuck you out an airlock," Kyra teased. "C'mon... you probably want to get this over with sooner than later."

"Wait," Arden put her hand on Kyra's arm, "we're coming out of hyperspace now. We're gonna be busy getting rid of Tilla" she said like she was discussing mynock removal, "we can tell them about it after, okay?"

"Sounds good."

[Ures'vn Bralor]

Bralor's fingers steepled under his chin and stared back at the blank monitor. There had been no word from Aidene since her surprise departure with Krynn while they had been dealing with the Hutt. All of attempts to receive any word on Zann had come up empty, but Tyber Zann wasn't the sort to give any details he didn't care for you to know. That, of course, had done wonders for his own mood and assured the promise that his next encounter with the crime lord would end with nice scar to intersect the one he already had, leaving a nice little cross-hair between his eyes.

He sighed and pushed the screen away, getting to his feet and leaving his quarters.

The mood on the ship had been shaky at best. Tiila had barely left her quarters since launching for Osarian, if she had at all. No attempts yet had managed to even crack her door, and Bralor was sure she hadn't even eaten anything. Then again, no one on board could truly understand what it was she was going through.

At least Trey and Arden were more or less back to normal.

"Still no response?"

The Mandalorian looked up, finding the ship's captain standing in the corridor. His arms were folded across his chest.

"Still no response," he confirmed. "If something was wrong, we'd know. She has her ways. She learned well." He hoped it was true.

Trey nodded, lips pressed tightly together. He stood in the doorway for a moment, then sighed deeply. "I'm sure you're right. But Krynn is with her. And I don't trust him. We still don't know what species he is, much less who he's working for. I'd feel better if she was alone."

The deckplates gave a familiar shudder signalling the reversion from hyperspace, and Arden's voice crackled through the ship's intercom. "We're in realspace, should be hitting Osarian's upper atmosphere about..."

The ship bucked slightly, and the Soul's pilot finished her sentence. "About now."

Trey nodded to Bralor and walked forward to the cockpit, slipping into the seat behind the Jawa who had assumed co-piloting duties. "Nice reversion. I didn't think you could pop out of hyperspace this close to a planet."

---

Feeling the ship bringing her to fulfill her boss' business, Tiila Sadi refreshed the crimson paint on her anger twisted lips. She had spent all day preparing herself for the job that lie ahead. The gold dress she wore shimmered as light hit the scales the material was made from, her hair was pinned high around a jewel encrusted comb that matched her dress with a select few curls falling to frame her pink face. She was so made up, very little of her actual skin showed, despite how revealing her dress was.

Sitting in the middle of an extremely precarious V, her new favorite piece of jewelry accented the decolletage on display. The light blue gemstone reflected the light the same way her genetically-designed hair did, both shining in the cracked mirror before her. She touched it lightly, ignoring the pain that beat beneath. The necklace's chain bore a shining resemblance to the circle of gold she had been instructed to wear, a reminder of what choices she had regardless of any hopes this ship had infected her with.

Capping the tube of beetle red, she tossed it onto the vanity counter amid the several empty bottles of liquor she had acquired from their work on the last ship. It is a fact that the body can subsist off of the nutrients in alcohol alone, and she had put this to a test. Not having unlocked her door for days showed in the weight she had lost. Sighing wearily, she stood and unlocked the door. She knew it was being watched and didn't bother to open it, it would be opened for her.

After the briefest moment the door slid back. Bralor stood in the opening, all geared up in his dark armor save the familiar helmet. His brown eyes met hers without lingering on her frame, though it hardly went unnoticed. She had hid the way the past few days had weighed upon her body expertly enough, but not from such a trained eye.

"We're nearly there," he said, unable to raise even a hint of a smile.

Her gaze flickered away, unwilling or unwanting to meet his for long. "I know." She sat back down at the vanity and reapplied the thick winged black line on her eye. "Otherwise the door would have remained locked."

He watched her through the mirror's reflection. "Right." The old soldier stood just outside the threshold for a quiet moment. He studied her as she went through those practiced and repetitive motions, void of any passion or joy.

"You don't want to do this," Bralor said quietly, almost matter of fact. "You don't want to do this, don't do it."

Sighing again, the pink woman slipped the brush back into its pot. "Do you know what Durga does to his belongings that no longer work?" To answer her own question, she pushed a green tinted bottle off the table top, letting it shatter in the durasteel crate she had been using as a garbage container.

"There are ways," he replied. "There are always ways. If I've learned anything from all the ops I've tangled it's that there is more than one route to your goal." He paused a moment, looking around at the number of tinted bottles, void of their drink. "We can find the other way."

Tiila brushed a few more bottles off, taking a tall tapered red one that still carried some of its contents and poured it into her glass with shaking hands. "I have stood in the room while he disposed of faulty staff. There is no purpose in being concerned with the use of your body when it is inside out." The glass rested on her lower lip a moment before delivering its contents with a tip of her wrist.

"Durga's not here." Bralor shook his head. "It's good to know what to expect from him, but that just gives time to prepare. Engage what we can now, manage the possible results."

"Based on the information I received on my datapad, this is an important job. Extremely important." She finally returned to his eyes. "I wouldn't be the only one he destroyed if this isn't done."

"So," Bralor folded his arms across his chest, "change the rules. Make the job different for the client, get the result Durga wants." He smirked just a little. "I've seen what you can do."

Her thumb ran back and forth over the side of the glass as she considered his suggestion. "I... I guess I could try. Not everyone is sufficiently effected by my pheromones." Her nail picked at a crack that spread across the top half of her glass. "If it didn't work... I'd have to give him what I was sent here for." She was surprised at how much she didn't want to do this. A job she had thought she enjoyed so much... and she hated it.

Bralor finally stepped across the threshold, crossing over to where she sat. "It's a start." He placed his hand on her shoulder, just where it met her pink neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. "If improvisation is needed, that's what we do."

"Just keep Arden away from me or it will be her on her back in that man's bed." She put the glass down, perhaps a bit too hard. The crack spread down the entire side of the glass, rendering it useless. "If nothing else, I'm sure I can clean out his liquor cabinet."

The Mandalorian shook his head just a little. "Take it easy with Arden. This is the place to be building bridges, not razing them. You might need her help when this comes back to Durga."

He leaned over her and moved the glass back. "And you're going to need to keep your wits about you." He knew how that sounded coming from him, the first one to throw a few back before a job. "You should get some real food in your belly before we disembark."

She ignored completely his suggestion of food. "Arden is treating her freedom like a spoiled child." Her fingers brushed the warm gold that fitted around her neck. "I wouldn't think someone who spent time under Druga's thumb would take it so much for granted."

"I think you're mistaking Arden's problem. It's not freedom; it's trusting the people you rely on." His eyes flitted to her fingers on the chain. "We survive together. Takes some longer to learn that than others."

"It hurts my trust when she acts the way she does, and not only am I the only one that calls her on her unacceptable behavior, but I am verbally assaulted for doing so." She sighed and took a few steps closer to the Mandalorian, lowering her voice as she spoke. "Personal feelings aside, Arden is hiding something. I can feel it. It crawls across my skin every time I am in the same room with her. It makes me uneasy..."

His chin tilted, looking her in the eyes. . "You aren' t the only one, Ambassador. You don't see all that happens on the ship, particularly locked away in your quarters." His were dark, almost colorless. "And a crew never dresses down the captain in public. Particularly when they are on a sour mood. Picking your battles is as much about timing as anything."

He shifted, armor moving the only sound in the room for a moment. "I've known a number of untrustworthy boot heels. Jedi. Mercs. Smugglers and officials." He paused. "I trust Arden."

"You don't understand." She sighed and shook her head. "I don't have to see. My people, we feel emotion as much as we can give it. Zeltrons are powerful empaths, and it was just another part of me that was tinkered with genetically." She reached across the short span between them and touched his protected arm lightly. "I promise you I am not speaking out of hurt feelings. I have sat on this for a while now because I didn't want it to look that way, but I fear I will never have any other situation in which to say so."

The man was quiet again. He appeared to be consider what she was saying. His gaze rose to the ceiling. "I believe you." He looked down again. "I believe she is hiding something from you being here." And he hoped that was all. He didn't like the feeling of dissent the idea started to sow. "I have trusted Arden with my life and safety because she's earned it."

"I'm not saying she is hiding something horrible, or that she is hiding something from anyone but me. All I am saying is that I have valid reasons for not trusting her. You have to remember I have known Arden for far, far longer than you have, and she has not earned trust from me. Quite the opposite."

Her hand dropped from his arm and her back straightened. "However, if Arden is allowed to show disrespect that would get her throat cut elsewhere, and I am barked at for commenting, then it is hardly freedom I am being offered here. I at least got respect in my job." She held her arms up, showing the sparse dress and gold bangles she was decorated in. "and I am little more than a whore."

"You're more now," he said. "If you weren't, we wouldn't be trying to find a way around this."

Ures'vn Bralor reached for her. His gloved hand touched high on her arm. "The life we lead out here is dirty. Tempers are high right now and people are acting hot. But we take care of our own." He squeezed, looking into her eyes. "I promise you that."

Maybe it was their shared design or maybe it was the feeling of sincerity that he was giving off, but she softened. "We'll see what happens after this job with the aristo. Maybe I'm just a whore with a really bad attitude." She laughed a little bit.

"Maybe." He didn't laugh, but the edges of his eyes wrinkled with the hint of a small smile. "I'm just a drunk with a chip on his shoulder."

Bralor stepped back. "Come on," he said, jabbing the console beside the door with an elbow. It slid into the hull with that heavy shunk. "Let's go find out how to really screw this bastard."

Smirking as she passed by him to walk out the door, Tilla flicked a blue curl out of her face. "I thought we were trying to get me out of the screwing part?"

Finally the soldier let out a small chuckle. "Lady, what I'm talking about people tend to find whole lot less enjoyable."

"I certainly hope so." She leaned her back against the door's frame. "At least when I kill people in bed they die with a smile on their face... usually."

[Tiila Sadi]

The Free Flying Soul's gangplank dropped down bleeding light up into the hanger. Bralor stood at the back of its mouth in his full beskar'gam. He could make out the feet of the personal guards that had come out to escort their arrival. He turned to the woman beside him. "You know where we are."

Tiila Sadi's fingers fidgeted momentarily with the blue jewel that hung from her neck, her pink thumb running back and forth over its elegantly smooth cut. She didn't look at him but simply nodded.

His arm fell beside one of the DC's that hung from his hips. "Want me to see you down?"

With a slow breath, she nodded again. "Arriving without some entourage is very low class." She gave a half-smile, still facing the open door. "And so they know what's coming when I change my mind." Her laugh was tight with the thread of truth in it.

"Alright then," Bralor said, stepping to the side and gesturing toward the gangplank. "After you, Ambassador."

The Zeltron nodded her head a little, and Bralor had the distinct impression it was more about psyching herself for the task she was about to undertake. He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath. Then her head rose and her back straightened.

The Mandalorian picked up the rifle that was leaning against the wall, checking the charge out of habit as he leveled it across his body, and he fell in behind her. His boots clanked in a soldiers pace down the durasteel plating. He kept his head straight, letting that cold, blank mask play its role while his eyes took in the greeting party.

A protocol droid stood beside a smiling blue twi'lek male. The two of them were flanked by a pair of togruta females. As the twi'lek strode forward, Bralor's eyes focused on the two in the back, instinctively dropping into threat assessment. Togruta were pretty, but not the usual choice for a simple greeting party. He scanned their simple robes for the telltale signs of weapons.

Experience had taught him that while many liked to show their strength as a warning, the more crafty hid their strength in plain sight. Often, those were the most dangerous.

There was no sign of the anxiety Tiila had just seconds before as the woman politely met the servants sent to welcome her. "It is a pleasure to be here." She looked around with casual curiosity. "And where is my host, Lord Varian Thane?"

"He is inside, Miss." The Twi'lek bowed politely gesturing to the sprawling white manor behind him. "He is preparing everything for your arrival. If you would care to join him, he is very pleased you are here."

The sun shimmered off her hair as she flicked it over her shoulder. "Then I would hate to keep my dear patron waiting. Take me to him."

The Twi'lek nodded again and turned, the Togruta taking up a place on either side of the pink woman, leaving only the rear for the Mandalorian.

Bralor didn't hesitate, following suit close behind. His experience with custom told him that he was being put in his place. Raised in the clone army, he found himself unconcerned with issues of status that surrounded nobles and the power hungry. Their insults rolled off his him like water off a clone's bucket.

It also keyed him in on their flawed approach to strategy - protocol over security. Should they try anything, he was nicely positioned to take care of it. He could put one blaster right between the headtails of each togruta before either could breathe.

Trees with soft white petals dipped over the path they followed towards the home of Varian Thane, a rich lord of Osarian. Her data pad had been both demanding and vague in its instruction. There was something Thane wanted from Durga and, in return, he would owe the Hutt a favor of nearly immeasurable size. This was a somewhat unusual job for her. She usually only met with clients who Durga needed something from, not the other way around. Still, the scenery was nice, and if she could manage her way around the activities she dreaded, this job could be quite enjoyable. "Your Lord's home is quite lovely." She spoke casually to the servants around her. It was met with an odd silence.

Walking up the white stone steps, the twi'lek opened the light wood door and gestured for the others to enter. "Thank you." Now being steered by the Togruta at either side, she was herded through several lushly decorated rooms. Finally breaking through the parlor, they entered an impressive indoor garden. The home's master was sitting in a red plush loveseat in the middle of a curved wall of alien pink flowers. Flowers that strangely matched the Zeltron's skin exactly.

Having an eidetic memory was one of the most strategically useful tools that the Kamino engineers had bred into Bralor and his brothers. He forgot very little, and he never forgot a face. As the seated human raised his head he saw the man over the shoulders of one of the Togruta escorts.

His voice was eaten by the vacuum silence of his helmet. "Stang."

The man's handsome face lit a memory in Tiila of the Lianthi Princess and his arms around her as she fell. That professional work smile greeted the man that had helped her on the luxury ship. "My white knight."

"The immaculate Tiila," He rose from the cushions and crossed the grass slowly to greet his guest, the pace of a man who rushed for nothing. "finally come home." He slid his hand under hers and lifted the pink fingers to his lips. "Welcome."

"Thank you for bringing me to your exceptionally lovely home." Her jaw tightened just a little as a realization clicked into place. A favor from Durga for this man. This was too much to be coincidence. She had a sinking feeling there was no Plan B to fall back to. "And thank you for your help back on the Princess."

His fingertips touched the warm blue stone on her chest. "I am glad to see you still wear my gift."

Her stomach sank even further. He was the one that gave her the stone that matched her hair. His flowers matched her skin. He searched her out after meeting her for only mere moments. This was far from a negotiation. Her earlier words, said in jest, had come true. She was now Durga's whore. Despite the stone in her belly, she showed no outward change. "It has become my favorite piece."

Looking over the soft pink shoulders to her guard, Varian Thane finally spoke to the other person who had entered his garden. "Thank you for delivering Tiila in such immaculate condition."

Shoulders square behind Tiila, only the mandalorian helmet turned to Thane. A few flickers of his eye reactivated the voice projection. "We have our reputation for good reason," he replied with that simple, cool deadness. It could have meant any number of things from the guarantee of her safe arrival to the hell that might follow should anything go wrong.

The togruta on the right let her emotions slip, her lips parting to bare a sliver of those sharp, predatory teeth.

Thane raised his hand to his guard, effectively settling the female in one short gesture. "Yes, your reputation is well known to me. Fortunately it should not be an issue any longer." He passed Tiila's hand from one of his to the other, leading her to sit on the couch where they had found him. From within his satin jacket, he produced a silver key. "There is a lock box that has been set beside the door. The credits within along with whatever you can fetch from the sale of her things should show proper appreciation for your delivery. She won't be needing them anymore. I can provide more than enough to keep her happy."

Bralor stood motionless. He didn't look at the key. Instead that beskar'gam held the perfect poker face with its black T visor trained on Varian Thane's eyes.

This was a turn of events he hadn't quite counted on. That alone gave him an urge to pull one of his DC-17s and split the smug bastard's head right down the middle. Entertaining the simple thought left him through the series of events: How quickly the togruta would respond and how to put them down most efficiently. All the covert security they had passed on their way to his home, plus the others, no doubt hidden. Then there would be the trickiness of getting them off planet.

His head turned ever so slightly and he looked at Tiila.

For only a second, the Zeltron lost her breath completely. There had to be a mistake in communication. That solitary thought moved her feet and lips. She stood and rested her hand on Bralor's scarred armor. "It's okay. I'm sure there is just a miscommunication." She was speaking as much to her own nerves as she was to him. "I will contact Durga and get everything straightened out." She tried to give him her best smile.

Bralor nodded. He knew that he should probably say something reassuring to her. Unfortunately all too often the time and place when you needed it the most was not the time and place where you could give it. So all he said was, "Understood," and hoped that she got the message.

He shifted to the noble and nodded again, "Lord Thane." Leaving the man holding the key, Bralor turned and left the parlor.

---

Arden paced in her quarters. She really didn't want to do this. She hated the idea of opening up, even if these people were her... What were they? Could she call them friends? Just people she worked with? She didn't know what.

She let out an exasperated scream and ran her fingers through her hair. She kicked the pair of shoes that the Diva gave her and they clattered against the wall. She threw herself onto the bed.

This was maddening. She thought for sure this was how some brat youngling would act if they had their toys taken away. She rolled over onto her back and blew the hair out of her eyes.

What could they do to me? Arden thought to herself as she sat up and looked up at the ceiling, Well toss me out of an airlock. Shoot me. Shoot me and toss me out of an air lock That brought a smile to her face.

"Fine," she said out loud. She made sure the blaster was comfortably on her hip. She smiled again, good thing she was the best shot on board, and Bralor wasn't here.

---

"I don't care what you think you can do," Vullif said, frowning at the glowing eyes staring back at him. "You are not taking Pal apart."

Nik chattered indignantly and walked back down the corridor leading to the engine room. Trey wasn't entirely sure what the Jawa had said but the Soul's captain was fairly sure his ancestry had been insulted.

"My loyal crew," he muttered as he walked into the lounge and dropped into one of the padded chairs. At least he could count on Arden, he thought. She had always worked with him and tried to encourage him to find more profitable operations for the ship.

---

The twi'lek returned to the garden, bringing a tray of drinks to the seated pair. "I would feel better if I could speak to Durga directly. You must understand, this is a drastic difference from the instructions I was given at the palace."

The tray set on the glass and wood table in front of them, Thane carefully uncorked a familiar rose colored bottle and poured the chilled contents into delicate crystal flutes. "Very well, my dear. I will have him contacted." That confident, easy smile never left his face as he gestured to the servant to leave. The smell of the liquor perfumed the air, drowning any scent of flowers that had been lingering. "While we wait, I understand you have a fondness for mycosia. I have procured an extremely pure vintage." The glass held out to her was an unspoken invitation.

Protocol and politeness dictated she take the offering, but she needed neither. What she needed was a drink. She took the fine glassware to her lips and indulged as deeply as manners would allow. This was indeed a fine example of the floral alcohol. The scent was only overwhelmed by the deep complex flavor that washed over her mouth. It was like no other mycosia she had before. "This is a very fine vintage." She couldn't hide the pleasant surprise in her voice.

"I'm glad you like it." He watched her drink more of the heady liquid, his eyes almost triumphant. "I had it made specifically for your arrival"[/thane] A soft chime rang out from the crystal as he slid his finger around the rim. [color=#E55B3C]"Your species are known for your ability to metabolize liquor faster than any other human or near-human because of your unique anatomy." He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her bare arm. "And you are even more unique, aren't you?"

Tiila's head spun a little, dizziness taking her breath unexpectedly. She put the glass back on the tray and stared at Varian. Did he really try to drug her? It would only be a few moments and her system would be clear. This guy was going to be in a lot of trouble. Her body instinctively reached for its defences and found nothing.

"There is a secret written in your genetics that may come as a surprise to you, a kill switch if you will." His smile grew wider, his fingers sliding up to her face. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, tugging it to the side a little. "A protein written in your genetic code that disables all of your defenses. Essentially, it is a designer drug that is made especially for you, Tilla Sadi, and you alone."

Panic raced through her foggy mind but her body could only react in sluggish, weak, ineffective means. "What. No.... no." She tried to stand only to stumble back into Thane's arms like a common drunk.

The wicked lord ran his fingers through her cerulean hair. "Don't be upset, my dear. Durga said you would be a little resistant to the idea at first. This is just a precaution until you become acclimated to life here." Moving his fingers under hers, he squeezed her hand gently. "You have a beautiful life before you, Tiila. Here, you will want for nothing. I can give you everything you can imagine and more."

Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. "You are mine now, girl." He slid his arms beneath her back and legs to lift her from the couch. "I will make that call to Durga. I will call to tell him our transaction is successful."

[Arden Ramis]

"We need to talk Trey." Arden said hollowly as she entered the common room of the Soul. The Free Flying Soul. What a joke she thought to herself as she watched Trey turn to face her from his own conversation with Nik. Her own soul was a damn sight far from being free. She gave Nik a withering look that she knew her newest co-pilot would definitely understand as get lost and the little Jawa made himself exceedingly scarce.

Arden sat down in the chair. She could already feel her eyes burn as she looked at Trey trying to get the words to form. "Trey I..."

"This whole thing stinks of bantha poodoo." Bralor strode in from the cargo hold, unlashing his helmet and pulling it off. "I've got a bad feeling-"

He stopped and looked at Trey and Arden. He read the expressions on their faces. "What happened here?"

Arden could feel the heat in her cheeks rise as she looked at the former clone trooper, not expecting him to show up so soon. "I-I was..." she swallowed hard, "Nothing. What's up?"

Bralor hesitated a moment. He studied the expression on the pilot's face. The history between the pair, Arden and Trey, Bralor wondered if perhaps he had stepped into the two of them settling just what it was between them.

"Durga." He pushed the thought aside and carried on inside. "He's changed the deal, whatever it was." He set his bucket on the table. "This wasn't a negotiation. It was a slave trade."

Arden looked from Trey to Bralor and back. Part of her truly wanted to say So what?, but knew better than to actually express that at this point.

She took a heavy swallow. She knew what this meant. She knew that Bralor and Trey would want to save Tilla. She sighed heavily and sat back deep in her chair, and pulled her knees up. "Okay, and?"

"And he knows us from the Princess job. Not our cover. Us." The mandalorian rested his knuckles on his helmet and leaned forward. "Somehow he just so happened to be in the ambassador's box during the performance. Except no one knew to expect Tiila Sadii that night." He looked at Trey. "Durga sold us out."

Arden gave a what are you gonna do shrug. Now that she had been given a momentary reprieve from having to tell her secrets, she would try her damnedest to steer the people she cared about away from Durga's bad side so she didn't have to tell them the truth. "That tells me we're lucky he didn't give our names to the closest Imperial Governor, and we don't have an Imperial Star Destroyer on our backsides right now then." She gave another shrug. "Sounds to me like we got lucky and should thank the force and get the hell out of here?"

"Look," Trey said, leaning forward in his chair and placing his elbows on the table, his fingers knit together. "The only reason Durga didn't sell us out is he wanted to get the money if it went well or the ship and our hides if it didn't."

The ship's captain sat quietly for a moment studying the durasteel tabletop. "And I know there's no profit in it, but... We took Tiila in. And even while it wasn't our choice, she's one of the crew." He looked across the table at the other two with a firm expression. "And I don't like our people being traded like nerfs."

"I'm sorry," Arden said spinning in her chair and standing up, "sure she was part of the crew, but does it really matter? It's her skin or ours. And I say we get out of this system, and head to Nar Shaddaa and get us a new gig." She started on her way to the cockpit. "You just say the word, Trey, and we are gone." She looked at the other two members of the crew and sighed. "Look, this has nothing to do with whether or not I like the tramp, it's more about saving our skins."

Trey gave the girl a withering look. "Cut our losses and let one member of the crew go to save the rest," he said in a dry, nearly monotone voice. "Just like we did with you."

Arden knew that was what Trey would say. "Fine," she threw her arms in the air, "let's go save Tilla. Sounds like a plan. Then what, Trey?"

Trey looked back down at the table. "I don't know. He looked to Bralor for support, then repeated, "I don't know."

The dark haired man kicked his chair back, sending it clanging against the bulkhead behind. "Phwoar! I am just so damn tired of that slug being one step ahead all the karking time."

Arden started toward Trey then backed away from him. "Give me the damn heading to where this guy is," she pulled the gun from her holster and checked the sights on it, "let's get this suicide started."

Bralor didn't move from the table. "Holster that sidearm, verd." The former soldier spoke plainly.

"Trafficking aside," he gave a look to Arden, "and that is one I take issue with, Durga's a greater concern here for us. We know how Hutts operate. This isn't an isolated incident, this is the one we found out about. The moment it suits his needs, he's going to hang us out on a hook."

Kyra entered from the makeshift training area where she spent the majority of her time. "What's with all the yelling?"

It didn't take a force-sensitive to read the mood of the room. The set of Trey's jaw, Arden's thin-lipped countenance, and Bralor's... whatever. She glanced around, glad that there seemed to be a minimum of hostilities, before zeroing in on Arden. "So, you broke the news?"

The color ran out of Arden's cheeks. Her eyes bore meaningful holes into Kyra. "Something more important came up." She said through gritted teeth. She leaned against the bulkhead and folded her arms across her chest. "Might as well fill her in."

Distracted by the issue he had been grappling with in the moment, the look between the two women was lost on The Soul's captain. "Apparently our... benefactor," Trey said with more than a hint of disdain, "has been selling us out. On top of that, bringing Tiila here on a negotiation was a smoke." His molars slid back and forth. "He was selling her off."

That slavery existed in the galaxy was a plain and simple fact, and it would continue to exist whether Kyra could abide it or not. When it violated what she considered to be her personal space... well, that she could not abide. "So we're going to get her, right?"

There was a quiet in the room following the question.

Bralor straightened. "We do this, it's not going to be a clean job. There's no getting Tiila and walking away from Thane. And then there's the big worm. We act here, we need to prepared to deal with Durga."

Bralor's pronouncement seemed to draw all the air from the room. Individually, as well as collectively, they had all faced more than one point of no return in their lives. But was crossing a Hutt really any worse than being lead around by the nose by one? Kyra shrugged, "You only live once."

"Then its settled," he said deliberately, "we go after her."

The common area was loud with silence, finally broken by the beeping of the comm system from inside the cockpit.

"On that note," Arden turned toward the cockpit, "I'll see what kind of fresh hell is coming our way now." Arden ran down hall into the cockpit and flicked the comm on "This is the Soul."

"This is Administrator Janzen," a static laced voice came over intercom, "why have you not left atmosphere?"

"Well we need to do some pre flight checks and..."

"You will leave this planet, now." The administrator growled through the speakers. "I have a squad of guards coming to your position now, if you do not leave the atmosphere of this planet in five minutes, I will destroy you."

Arden sighed. "Moment of truth time." Arden whispered. She muted the comm. "We have five minutes before we are blown to hell. Make up your damn minds!"

"Liftoff in three." Trey paced up and down corridor leading to the cockpit. "Plot a course for Rhommamool and make orbit. It'll keep us close but give us some time."

"Finally you're talking sense." Arden jumped into the pilot seat and turned off mute on the comm. "Once our credits are transferred we'll be on our way," she said sweetly into the commlink.

"You will have your pay." The administrator snarled.

Next to her, a datapad lit up showing the transaction complete.

"Thank you, and we'll be on our way."

The Soul's engines screamed to life and the ship pulled away from the planet.

"Alright we're heading away from this Bantha fodder of a planet," She yelled out of the cockpit toward the others, "I hear Ord Mantell is nice this time of year. It's not too late for me to lay in a course and we can just forget this whole thing."

"No!" Trey yelled back.

"Fine," Arden sighed as she set the autopilot and walked back into the lounge, "if you all are so keen on suicide, then what's the plan to do it?" She leaned against the wall and folded her arms.

"If we give them too long they'll have all their defenses back up and would be able to shoot us out of the sky before we can even look at them funny." The thief said aloud as he leaned forward on the table and folded his hands together. "You saw the place Bralor, how well defended are they?"

"On the surface, not terribly," Bralor said evenly, "I saw a number of guards, more disguised as servants, but they were lightly armed. If we hit them hard and fast, we may be able to get them before they can get to the heavy weapons."

Trey nodded. "No threats of the air support variety?"

"Couple of ion cannon batteries on towers along the property wall." Bralor reported.

"Okay," Trey nodded, "This scumbag has never even thought that someone might actually attack his compound like this. Kyra, and I will man the guns and take out those ion cannons. Arden I need you to fly us right into the heart of his compound full boar. Bralor, you do what you do best."

Bralor nodded. "We'll need to take out their communications tower as well. I'm more worried about them getting word out about what's happened. I'd make that priority number one."

"If we get lucky," Trey pushed away from the table and stood up, "maybe we can live through this."

"Rousing battle cry there," Arden rolled her eyes as she returned to the cockpit. She sat down in her pilot's chair and pulled her knees up and held them against her body.

Here they went again. They could have easily just run, saved themselves and lived to fight another day as Trey was fond of saying back in their smuggler days. Now, though, they were risking their lives, even more so than Trey and Bralor knew, for someone that had only been on the ship with the crew a month.

A hand slid on Arden's shoulder and squeezed gently.

Arden let out a small scream and turned in her seat.

"You didn't tell them did you?" The redhead said with a knowing smile as she sat next to Arden.

"Shouldn't you be prepping the guns instead of playing counselor?" Arden snapped as she started running through a systems check.

"Be angry with me all you want," Kyra smiled, "but we both know that you won't be free of this until you cleanse your secrets from you." She stood and patted Arden once more on the shoulder before leaving the room.

---

The home of Varian Thane sat, white and lavish, stretched out in a lie of harmless luxury. The snake inside arrogantly unaware of the fight he had started. The ship of space trash had lifted off his planet and he was left to enjoy his prize. "Should I put you in green or pearl for dinner?" He looked up from the dresses he was inspecting to the woman reclined helplessly on the chaise lounge. "They both compliment your color so well."

"Why don't you wear the dress and go crin-"

"Ah ah ah." Thane interrupted her, wagging his finger as if chastising a misbehaving child. "I won't have language like that in my home." He scooped up the delicate opaline material and walked to her, taking all the time he believed he had. "In our home."

He hooked a finger and drew it across her collarbone, catching the gold strap that clung to her shoulder and pulled it off. "Let's enjoy our first dinner together." His chin dipped down and his lips followed the trail his finger had drawn. "an evening we can tell our children about..." He laughed softly as she flinched away. "Well, some of it."

---

The Soul had only just broken the atmosphere back into the blackness of space. Bralor stood armored and cloakless in her hold next to the ramp. He checked the repelling cable's attachment a third time before a flicker of his eye opened the com in his helmet.

"Ready, Arden. Let's retrieve the Ambassador."

Arden let out a final heavy sigh. "Here goes nothing." The engines roared as she opened the throttle and pulled forward on the controls powering it into a dive back to the planet below.

The red glow of atmosphere tinted the windows of the cockpit as Arden checked the instruments, "Thirty seconds," she said through gritted teeth, the controls rattling in her hands, "I've never pushed her through atmo like this before. We're getting heat and turbulence like you wouldn't believe."

"We'd believe it." Trey's voice came staticy through the coms.

"Just hold it together girl," Bralor said, laying a hand on the Soul's hull.

"You hear them, baby," Arden said as they broke through into higher layers of atmosphere, "hold it together."

The Soul righted itself skimming the tops of the trees.

"Starship Free Flying Soul," the air controller's voice crackled through the cockpit's speakers, "you are in violation of the terms of our agreement. If you do not desist..."

Arden flicked off the coms. "Well they know we're coming now. You all better make this count. I really don't want to die for Pinky."

The trees parted and the walls of the palace were dead ahead. Three landspeeders with guards stood at the gates.

"Here's the party," she said with a grin, "light um' up!"

"Don't be cute, girl," Bralor called through the comms, "that communications tower is priority one."

"I'm on it, Bralor," The redhead said from the weapons blaster. Kyra closed her eyes and let out her breathe slowly. She let the force flow through her. She imagined her target in her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she had a new focus. The rest of the world fell away except for her and the tower. A smile crept across her face as she pulled the triggers.

The green fire of of the laser cannons covered her entire field of vision as the bolts launched and seconds later hit the tower causing a brilliant explosion.

"Nice shot, Kyra!" Trey called through the comms. "Now it's my turn. I'm going to clear you a path Bralor." Trey grinned.

Before he could lock onto his targets however, the Soul was rocked by an explosion.

"Damn it!" Arden swore as the ship rocked, and almost dropped out of the sky. "They took out the starboard stabilizers. I'm sending T3 to try to do something about it, but this may not end well."

Another blast rocked the ship.

"Trey would you please stop them from shooting or this is going to be a very short rescue!"

---

The first blast was near deafening, a hum filling the air in the space between each volley. It wasn't long before the electric smell of discharged lasers and ozone joined the sounds and quaking walls to tell the people inside the house that a small war had been started outside. Tilla's alien intoxication made the situation even more difficult to think through, but she knew one thing clearly. "You are in big trouble, Mr. Thane."

Varian's perfectly coiffed hair fell across his forehead as he grabbed her bare shoulders and shook her, the dress still hanging by a single strap around her neck. "Your friends will be shot out of the air like the mynocks they are. A deal was struck and goods delivered, my dear. The credits were nothing, pocket change. I owe a very large debt for you and I intend to take every," he put his hand around her waist and jerked her body into his roughly, "bit," he leaned in and snarled into her ear, "I'm owed."

---

The Soul dipped hard, shuddering under the fire. The mandalorian peered through the window as the ship shifted, throwing him against the cargo door. Through the flashes of green laser fire traded between them and the compound he could see the ground. It was coming up on them fast.

In his helmet Arden's voice argued back and forth with T3. Suddenly the ship leveled dramatically, scooping back up. Cheers came from The Soul's pilot to the cranky droid, whirred and chirped in response.

Gripping the cable tight, the soldier slammed his fist against the door mechanism and the cargo door opened. He was sucked out into the open air. Steadily he let the line feed through his hand, sliding down it as the ship rocketed up and away from him. The DC-17 fired round after steady round, picking off Thane's security guards.

"Cut it."

In his ear the utility droid Pal whistled in reply, and he could hear the cargo door close. The cable went slack, and he let it go.

His stomach jumped as freefall and that familiar adrenaline rush set in. He landed on the rooftop with a roll, coming up with both guns firing. Togrutas brandishing long vibroblade swords came running him down from both sides. "Should've brought Kyra." He leveled both weapons and fired. "She might have appreciated the practice." The Togrutas fell before even making it halfway to him.

Bralor shouldered his way through the door and into Thane's home.

---

His short, manicured nails dug into her side through the thin material at her waist as he forced another flute of the flower liquor past her lips, choking her and spilling half of it down the front of her. "They won't get past the securities, darling. Your friends are dead." One hand still grasping her roughly, he tore at his shiny leather belt and unbuckled it with the ease of someone who was used to forcing himself onto women.

Despite her best efforts, Tiila choked on a sob and put her hands against his chest, feeling like a small child as she tried, and failed, to push him away from her. The spiked mycosia has made her so weak. Never had she hated anyone so much in her entire life. She shook her head. "You're wrong. You're dead." She spat in his face. All her strength gone, she could still do that.

His smile was more an aggressive baring of teeth, a show of dominance. There was no mirth in it at all. In that moment, he looked like a togruta himself, sharptoothed and strong. "You shouldn't be afraid. I know this isn't your first and I have been told I am very good." With a final jerk of his wrist, his white pressed pants fell around his ankles. "You'll learn to love it."

Tilla's struggle redoubled, repulsed by this filth pressed against her. He was no better, no less disgusting than a Hutt. She thought for a moment, if she would rather die than submit to this man. He kissed her roughly and began walking her backwards to the bed, the sounds of battle still going on in the background. "Not quite the romantic music I had planned for our first time together, but it gets the blood flowing, doesn't it?" He curled two fingers around the strap that held up her dress, the one that wrapped around her neck, and pulled, snapping the delicate material. Tiila's fight against him stopped as her hands went to holding her dress up.

As he pulled her almost relenting body back toward him, a wet red spray splattered across her face and chest. Thane's predatory expression didn't even seem to take notice even as his head jerked forward. The high pitch call and deep echo of a single blaster shot came in a quick wake and drowned the din of everything else.

Lord Varian Thane didn't blink. His expression went slack, grip falling limp around her arms. He collapsed dead at her feet.

Across the room Bralor stood in the open doorway of Thane's chamber. "Time to go, Ambassador."

---

Arden turned the Soul on her edge, presenting as little of the ship's profile to the anti-air crews. She kept the craft steering to port, giving T3 a chance to work on the damaged stabilizer, while giving Trey and Kyra the widest fields of fire from their turrets. The steady chuff-chuff of the cannons was somewhat comforting to the young pilot in that it kept the anti-air fire to a minimum. Arden was starting to think they might just pull this rescue off, when the incoming aircraft alarm blazed to life.

"We're gonna have company!" She pulled the Soul into a tight barrel roll as an ion blast missed the ship by millimeters.

T3 trilled angrily from the back of the ship.

"Just keep working, you little rust bucket," Arden yelled back, "I'd rather get out of this alive!"

Arden could hear the sizzle of the blasters as they battered the anti air on the ground below. She said a silent prayer to the force or anything else that would listen.

"Arden," Trey's voice came through the speakers, "incoming at point three."

Arden's head swiveled and then she saw it. Three C-73 Tracker starfighters came screaming in from their left flank.

"You have got to be frakkin' kidding me." Arden blew a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and banked hard to the right.

"T3 we have fighters incoming, I need that stabilizer."

T3 beepeed indignantly back to the blonde.

"What do you mean you can't?" she said panic settling into her voice.

There was another series of beeps and moans.

"Fantastic," Arden swore again, "I hope you two have a miracle, cause I'm out."

"I think I can pull something out," Kyra said through gritted teeth, "Fly directly into them."

"Are you nuts?" Arden screamed.

"I think I see what she's planning, Arden," Trey said as he laid down suppressive fire, "just do it."

Arden cursed one more time then gunned the Soul toward the three fighters, giving all the power she could to the front deflectors.

The four ships were on a collision course. At the last moment, the three fighters lost the game of chicken and swerved out of the way. Unfortunately, the fighters pilots were not nearly as good as Arden. The ship closest to the Soul got clipped, ripping it's wing off in the process sending it crashing into the ground while Trey and Kyra shot down the other two.

Arden let the breath she didn't realize she was holding out. "Kyra," she said into the comms, "remind me to not second guess you again."

---

Relief flushed her face and she felt dizzy. "Ures..." She took a step towards him and stumbled a bit, shock doing almost as much damage as the drug by now. The curved wood of the bedpost caught her and she steadied herself against it.

Reloading, the Mandalorian jogged across the room toward her. "We have to go."

"I'm trying..." She pushed off the post and slipped her shoes on. Looking across the room to the dark wood table that held the red bottle, she took careful, wobbly steps towards it.

He holstered one of his side arms and grabbed one of the blush blue robes from the back of a chair as he approached. "Sorry, Ambassador," he wrapped it around her shoulders and closed it tight around her before crouching down and hauling her over his shoulder, "but I need you to move a little quicker than those shoes are going to carry you."

Tilla made an unmistakably annoyed noise and shook her open fingers at the bottle she had been interrupted from acquiring. "I need that. We can not leave that behind."

Bralor was sure that they could all use a drink when they were far far away from this place, but he didn't pause to question her. He shifted so she could get one of her arms out from the robe's trappings. "Can you hold it?" Holstering his other DC he corked the bottle. "Because I'm guessing you're not fit to shoot straight." Behind him he could hear the next string of Thane's guard rushing toward their position.

"Yes. I'm not letting this bottle out of my sight." She looked over at the body on the floor. "Even if I could shoot straight, I would have nothing on your aim." Her body shifted and she groaned. "And this is extremely uncomfortable, so I am all for getting this over quickly."

"Roger that." He handed the bottle back into her fingers and pulled his gun. "Keep your head down.

"I've got Tiila," he said into his com, "I hope you left me something to get out of here on."

"First ship parked on the apron," came Kyra's voice in his helmet. "Hope it works."

He ran full tilt from the room. Even with her over his shoulder he seemed to jostle her very little as if he had done this before. As they hurried through the mansion red jets of blaster fire showered all around them and were silenced by the nearer sounds of the soldier's weapon. They left the hallway littered with gently smoking bodies, laying in shallow, dark pools.

Tiila clutched the bottle close to her body, keeping her head down and her eyes closed tight as she tried not to think about getting shot at. It was true that she worked in the crime business, but she wasn't often in the line of fire part. She focused on the fact that she was being saved. They had come for her. They had risked themselves to come and get her when it would have been far easier to leave her there and save themselves the trouble instead.

Out. They would be out soon. She keep repeating that over and over in her head in a mantra to drown out the ambient carnage.

A well placed shot on the lock kicked the door open. Bralor slowed, ducking to the side cautiously. "You alright back there?" He leaned his head out, checking the cover. A few stray shots impacted around the open door and he quickly filed away their sources.

"I won't be alright until we are far off this cursed planet."

"Fair enough." He laid down a few shots of suppression fire. It got him a better look outside and he saw their exit ride. Amid the smoking wreckage and debris sat an untouched YT-775 freighter. "Couldn't have left us a bigger target?"

Bralor reloaded one more time. He took a deep breath. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur."

With his blaster blazing, Bralor rushed out the doorway. He fired each round with precision at the cover that had been shooting in their direction. Some shots met their mark, others kept the guards ducked down. He ducked under the freighter's hull and made his way to the ramp controls.

Return fire started ricocheting around them as he hotwired the ramp to drop. One bolt managed to singe across his bicep, eliciting a cringing, "argh!" but nothing more. He clambered up into the ship and rushed for the cockpit.

"Alright, Ambassador," he said, lowering her carefully but quickly into the copilot's seat. No sooner was she down, he immediately went to flipping switches across the board, kicking the ship to life. "Buckle up, because we're not sticking around for the preflight safety inspection."

Tiila wrapped the thick nylon strap over her chest and clipped it securely in place. She couldn't get out of here fast enough. The bottle of secrets was still clutched in her hands, her knuckles white with strain. The Ambassador curled her back and pressed her forehead to the corked top. "I don't care, just get me out of here."

The back of the Corellian freighter lurched upward, followed by the cockpit in the front. "Arden." As its engines fired up, he swung the tail around, putting a black scorring across Thane's home. "Let's put this dwanghole behind us." He pitching the nose up throttled back hard. The white hot jets burned a black line across the ground and Bralor and Tiila jetted into the atmosphere after The Soul.