HOME"Wee Tree Man."
Written and Directed by:
Paul Burton.
Fiction by: Paul Burton and Anthony Hummerston.
STARRING:
Rojic,
Jimmi,
Karnov,
Niall,
Kory,
Mama
And special guest stars:
Hen3ry , Joe-9T, Henry and 'Blinkie.'
as the droids.
AND
Storm Cutter
their patched-up wreckage.
“Another day, another credit.” Mama sighs, as she relieves Niall in the cockpit.
-This isn’t as rude as some would believe, but snigger away while I get on with the story!
“How long now?”
“Another ten hours. -We’re roughly halfway.”
Niall stands. The swirl of hyperspace silhouettes him.
“Any place to get away from that lovely smell?”
“No. I tried ‘em all.”
“That’s the last time I haul livestock.” Niall vows.
“Agreed. I think that big cats must smell the worst.”
“Apart from dogs.”
“What’s a dog?”
“Kinda like a Bothan, but no so goat-like.”
“-And people keep them as pets?”
Niall sighs. “So I believe. It was millennia ago. Their fire has gone out of the galaxy.”
Mama is close to welling up over the fridge light again. Niall moves over, and leaves. Mama gets a reel of gaffa tape from a locker, and tapes up the door frame. The smell of the Nexu on board has stretched the air scrubbers to their limit and beyond.
“A shame you can’t open the window in hyperspace.” She muses to herself.
Meanwhile, Rojic is trying to entertain some unexpected guests. In the cramped and rather shambolic engineering bay, he is perched on a ledge over the last remaining outlet for fresh-ish air. Karnov and Jimmi are sitting at the Dejarik table, arguing as normal.
“I can’t help not being able to sense the pieces. They’re holograms. –They don’t show up in the force.”
“Well, if you concentrated, you could remember where my Houjix was, then you wouldn’t keep getting eaten.”
“Can’t we play cards instead?” Jimmi asks.
“No. The last time we played cards, you got all upset that you couldn’t read the hand you were dealt. Then we had to get Joe-9T to look for you and relay the information, and then delete it from his memory in order to play his hand.”
Jimmi looks apologetic.
Karnov continues. “And all the while one of Joe-9T’s eyes was on a shelf behind me, projecting my hand into a shadowy corner where only Rojic could see it! –Never again.”
The arguing is punctuated by a roar from the caged Nexu behind the door. Rojic reports, “They’re getting hungry again. -And angry by the sound of it.”
“Must’ve been Jimmi’s harp playing.”
“That makes me want to climb a tree and rip the face off an octopus too!”
“I could sing to them….” Jimmi offers, “Ten thousand verses of ‘Soft-Kitty’ should last us to New Plympto.”
Mama appears at the door. “I bid lower than that.”
“How much lower?”
“About three verses. –Though it’d guarantee shutting them up for a while.”
“If it’s so good why don’t we let Jimmi try?”
“Yeah! Let me try!” Jimmi echoes.
“What I meant to add,” Mama adds, “Is that it’s a guaranteed pacifier, coz I would personally feed Jimmi and the harp into the jaws of the hungriest Nexu!”
Jimmi is all sulky. “Nice to feel wanted isn’t it?”
“Actually you are. I can’t get the online reference up. I wanted to know what there is to know about Nosaurians.”
“Erm…” Jimmi stalls.
“What?”
“I don’t know much about them.”
“I thought you were the fount of all galactic knowledge.”
“Well not today.”
“What’s up, losing your touch?” Mama asks.
Jimmi shrugs, and admits to a little deception. “Actually I must admit to a little deception. You see, I usually plug into Wookieepedia and put it on audio, then relay the info to you, disguised as galactic knowledge.”
“Wookieepedia?”
“Yes. It’s the standard repository for all knowledge and wisdom.”
Rojic interrupts. “Does it have some reassuring words on the front page?”
“I don’t know. But it’s better than the older and more pedestrian ‘Douros-epedia.’”
“Well ‘Douros-epedia’ does sound like a creepy-crawly alien species.”
“So what do we actually know about New Plympto?”
Karnov has remembered something. “It was the source of Rikknit eggs. –The eggs of the Rikknit bird. -A delicacy in several systems.”
“You said was?”
“Yes. Supreme chancellor Valorum stopped the export of eggs.”
“Such a nice man. Always thinking of the environment.”
“Not so. He shut down exports because you can process the ovum into an addictive narcotic.”
Mama and Rojic exchange glances, and a certain rise of their eyebrows. Karnov continues, “Of course now that we’ve got a better supreme chancellor, I expect the situation will be reversed within the first hundred days or so.”
“I like Palpatine.”
Karnov agrees, but only to a point. “I agree. But only to a point. –I’d prefer someone more right wing….”
Ten hours later, they are in sight of Karsten moon, which is the only satellite of New Plympto. “What now?” Inquires Niall, after several turns around the moon. “We wait for Kory of course. I told you that a couple of hours ago.” As Mama finishes speaking, the comm crackles to life. “Punch it up. -That could be our signal!”
Niall does so. The other crew members huddle into the cockpit, as far away from the stench of the Nexu as possible. The comm crackles again. The signal is rather weak. A message starts and stops. “What was that?”
Joe-9T has been listening attentively. “I don’t know. It sounded a bit garbled. Much like a Corellian after a night’s drinking, whoring and gambling.”
“I didn’t think that Kory was from Corellia.”
“I never asked her. It seemed rude. With her slight accent, she might have been from Mandalore for all we know.”
Joe-9T adjusts knobs and dials on the comm.. “Of course, one day, we might come across a Corellian captain, and his Mandalorian.”
The others look at Joe-9T. He guffaws at the joke. Karnov nods to Rojic, who switches him off mid chuckle. “-And you can come back online when that pun is expunged from your system!”
“We certainly could do without jokes like that. –Especially from droids.” Niall says, rather dryly.
A few minutes later, the communicator sorts itself out, and a miniature image of Kory comes on the line. Her little hologram is about an inch high.
“Hi all! Welcome to Phemiss, New Plympto. Your target is Igbo’s island, which lies in the estuary of the city. It’s no place to fly to though. You’ll have to put down in the spaceport on the North side of the city, in the Drifter’s district. There you will find Terra, a Bothan barkeep. His place is named after him, so even Karnov should be able to find it. He’s your go-between. There might be an arrangement fee. -And now a warning….”
“Now a warning?” The others all echo.
“Keep a low profile. Don’t pick a fight with the locals. Don’t whatever you do, mention me or Oona. Got it?”
“Yes. We can be discreet.”
“-And keep your mouths shut.” They nod in agreement.
“Okay, Kory out….Now how do I turn off this terminal? ….What’s this switch….? ” It buzzes and hums for a while.
The others increase the resolution, and the size of the image. What they do to the holographic Kory is left to the imagination. In the end, they reduce her down to a itty-bitty little one-inch Kory and put an “Alderaan Forever.” cup over it.
Alderaan Forever indestructible carry cup.
“Why are you all queued up at the ramp?” Mama asks the others.
“As soon as we hit atmo, we’re going out wing walking!”
“Whatever for?”
“We thought we’d go celebrate my eightieth birthday.”
Mama looks at them with a wry gin.
“The smell isn’t that bad is it?”
“You betcha!”
They put down in a half-decent spaceport. They’re in the not-so-decent half.
Karnov is looking at a display. “This side of the city is for non-natives. The other sectors of the city are for the different Nosaurian tribes.”
“Interesting…” Niall muses, “I wonder how they tell the tribes apart?”
“Other than asking ‘What part of town are you from?’ I expect they have certain regalia, customs, accents or something.” Jimmi says.
Mama is listening in, she speculates, “Well, they have fancy horns on the backs of their heads. I suspect it has something to do with that. Either the way they grow, or if they’re uniform, the way they decorate them, -either with adornment or by carving or some-such.”
“Probably that’s it.” Niall agrees.
Rojic looks out of a viewport. “Anyway, this is the Drifter’s district. This is where the lowlife and the clan-less, the down-trodden and the dregs live. No-one has a job as such. They’re criminals and they smell. It’s a skive of hum and villainy.”
“Are you sure you’re not describing Storm Cutter’s crew?”
“Well....”
The bar they’ve been directed to isn’t hard to find. It has ‘Terra’s Bar’ Written on a sign over it. The sign points to a basement.
They all troop down. Everyone in the bar falls silent as they enter. –Even the holographic displays stop and turn around. Inside there is a band playing old tunes, or rather old versions of the only tune in the galaxy. Our heroes push through a crowded room to the bar.
After a good deal of pushing and shoving, they elect Rojic to order drinks, seeing as how he can fly over the queue, and plop down on the bar itself. The other patrons step back as best they can and give him room.
“Four pints of your best ‘unspecific’ and a Bantha milk….”
“In a dirty glass!” Jimmi shouts over the crowd.
“That’s the only type of glass they’ve got!” Rojic yells back.
The Bothan bartender looks at the crew. He repeats the last part of the order. “A Bantha milk. -For the lady?” He asks Rojic.
“Um…..”
The Bothan eyes Jimmi. “That lady sounded a bit like a man to me….”
“That ain’t no lady, that’s my husband!” Rojic quips, and suddenly the Bothan is a bit more friendly.
“What brings you here?”
“We are looking for a referral. –A referral to some influential people.”
“I know a lot of people, can you be more specific?”
“Not in a crowded bar. Here, I’ll write it in this napkin.”
Rojic scribbles ‘Igbo’ on a napkin and passes it to the man.
“Sure, I can put the word out, only there are three things you need to know.”
“-And they are?”
“One….There’s a referral fee….”
“And two?”
“This man is very difficult to meet.”
Rojic reaches back, as Karnov passes a hologram projector over.
“This should help you.” Rojic says, showing the Bothan.
The Bothan studies the hologram. Rojic starts getting elbowed and insulted by other customers. He presses the Bothan to stop staring and start talking. “But what’s the third thing?”
The Bothan looks up, and points. “That’s no napkin. That’s the sleeve of a Nosaurian.”
The Nosaurian growls at Rojic, who obliges by blowing his nose on the cuff, and blaming it on someone else.
Jimmi sips the Bantha milk. A small fight starts at the bar. Luckily an old Jedi is in the bar, trying to be discreet, and cuts off the arm of the Nosaurian with a lightsabre. Jimmi goes back to the drink. “I’m sure this is white milk…”
“Eeew! White milk! How disgusting!”
Jimmi senses something. “At least the dirt on the glass is to my liking!”
They listen to the band for a while, and wait for an answer. At last the Bothan clears the dirty glasses, and Jimmi’s even dirtier one. “Contact made. Come back tomorrow.” Is all he tells them.
Outside, they breathe in the stink of the city, mixed with a cloud of death-stick smoke. Mama takes in a great lungful. “Ahh! Fresh air at last!”
“The smell of the city, the smoke the fumes, the poodoo on the floor….”
“Just like being back on the ship!”
“You did leave the top hatch open didn’t you?”
“Yes. And the sentry guns on….”
“Good.”
They pass several dark alleys, where various thugs are loitering. However, they heed Kory’s wise words and refuse to pick a fight. The locals are a rather ugly and disreputable bunch here in the Drifter’s district. Rojic and Joe-9T try to insult them in the most exotic language, but the toughs are as uneducated as they are unattractive. The crew spends another uncomfortable night back on Storm Cutter. True the open hatches and ramps are a blessing, but it only goes to mix the stink of the city with the stink of the Nexu. By the morning there are no more womp rat bones to chew on, so some of the creatures are starting on the bars. “Lucky they don’t have tin cups to run up and down the bars, yelling ‘filthy screws’ over and over at us.” Niall observes, “Though it would possibly be preferable to bar chewing and feline tummy rumbling.”
“I dunno, at least it drowned out the sound of Rojic snoring.”
“Y’know for several weeks I thought he was using a hammer-drill in there. – ‘course then I realised; even a Toydarian doesn’t need that many shelves!”
Rojic isn’t going to rise to the bait. Instead he imparts a nugget of information. “Back home, the ‘adult’ magazines are on the bottom shelf. If you’re seen walking in the store, the shopkeeper thinks you’re a pretty low and debauched sort.”
Jimmi has the last word. “I dunno how they can tell!”
They secure Storm Cutter once again, leaving the bottom hatch open, the air scrubbers on full, and the sentry guns on. “Sometimes I wonder whether to leave the cages open. The Nexu could guard it for us.”
“But when we return we’ll have to catch them all over again.”
“True.”
They make their way back to the bar. The place isn’t quite as crowded as yesterday, and they manage to find a booth without anyone doing the booth quote. The band is playing the same old tune. They order drinks, and then order Rojic to pay. This puts him in a bad mood. He glowers at the rest of them. “I should spit in those drinks.”
“It’d probably improve the taste!”
After a while, a humanoid comes over. Jimmi senses danger. If the man does so, he doesn’t show it. The man is dressed in black, with a black bandana over his eyes.
“Maybe he ignored the teacher’s advice and ran with a pair of compasses.” Mama says in a low voice. Jimmi looks nervous. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m endangering the mission!”
“Nonsense. You shouldn’t have come at all. The Nexu cages need cleaning out!”
Niall is a bit more sympathetic. “What is it, Jimmi?”
“It’s a Miralukan thing. I can ‘see’ him in the force. –Which probably means he can ‘see’ me too.”
“See?”
“Well not ‘see,’ but possibly sense my presence.”
Mama isn’t taking it too seriously. “It’s like wi-fi. You can tell when you’re in the vicinity of another wi-fi device.”
Rojic is rather scornful. “Pfft! Wi-fi! How retro!”
“It was all the rage when I was a girl!”
“When forests flew and fishes walked, maybe.” Rojic says, rather unkindly. Mama sticks her tongue out at him. The stranger approaches. “I’m Tok Embu. I represent certain parties. I understand you have some merchandise that my master might be interested in…..”
“For the right money….” Mama says, but Niall glowers at her. “Let Rojic do the talking.”
Rojic puffs up his chest, and tries to look important. “I’m the brains, sweetheart!” He says, and turns to Embu. “That’s right. Joe, show the man.”
Joe-90 obliges, and fires up the holo-projector.
Embu is impressed. “How many of these do you have?”
“Six. Two cubs, two teenagers and a male and female pair.”
Embu is even more impressed. “And you caught them yourself?”
Rojic is about to take all the credit, but Karnov clears her throat at the right moment to put him off. “No. I’m aerial recon. I spot and direct the hunting. I have a more ‘managerial’ role…”
Embu considers his offer. “I’m empowered to offer up to ten thousand per adult or near adult. Two thousand for the cubs. If this is acceptable, then have them delivered to the docks late this afternoon. A boat will be waiting. You’ll see the place.” He sips on his drink, as if readying to go.
Rojic does some quick adding up. “Forty four thousand!” He can hardly contain himself.
Karnov is thinking aloud. This doesn’t bode well. “Of course, we’d be looking at a lot less profit of Boba Fett hadn’t come up with the number four. Thirty-three thousand isn’t nearly as much.”
Niall ponders. “It could have been fifty five.”
“Damn you Boba Fett!”
Rojic plays it cool. He flutters next to Embu. “Of course we have other contacts to er….Contact. We want a good price. I’m sure your master wouldn’t want to let a bargain slip away for want of a few more credits….”
Embu looks at him witheringly. “No I’m sure my master would be most displeased. I’ll forward a proposal for sixteen-thousand an adult and twenty-three-hundred per cub. –And first refusal.”
Rojic is elated. His sly tongue has netted them a fifty-one point three percent increase! He keeps his cool though, and doesn’t brag.
Embu leaves. As he does so, several cronies separate from the crowd and follow him out.
Rojic is still excited. “Split five ways….”
“What about Joe-9T?”
“He’s a droid. He doesn’t know what money is.” Rojic tells them.
“But he’s the one with the biggest gun.”
“Well…..Okay. -A share! A small share, say a thousand or so….”
“-And he’s the one with the violent streak a mile wide….”
Rojic concedes, “A couple of thousand maybe….”
“-And a kilometre deep, sir.” Joe-9T reminds him.
Rojic relents. “Okay a full share!”
Niall adds, “I’m only thankful that Kory and Mister Tuun don’t want a share, -Nor the colonel for that matter.”
Karnov is upbeat. “We got a good deal. Though it’s not done until we’re out of the solar system with the money intact and our heads still on our shoulders. –Then I’ll relax.”
Mama is more circumspect. “I dunno. I have a bad….”
“Shh!”
“Okay. I have reservations. After all this is a crime-lord we’re dealing with. I’m sure those animals aren’t going to a petting zoo for deprived children to visit…. They’re gonna be fed on slave girls and Igbo’s enemies. –Or perceived enemies.”
“Or to get around the tricky business of paying people for delivering them.” Niall adds.
“There’s something else we came here to get too, don’t forget.”
“We’ll have to bide our time on that. No need to overplay our hand.”
With that they finish their drinks and get the bar bill. It makes Rojic’s eyes pop.
“Ten creds a drink!”
“That’s not too bad…” Jimmi tells him.
“But the Bantha milk was sixty! –And the dirty glass an extra fifteen! –That’s coming off your share.”
“Talking of expenses, we need some stuff for the ship.”
“Such as?”
“A full valet, new air scrubbers and a new teapot-shaped air-freshener. The last one has shrivelled up and died.”
They walk out. Outside the bar, the stink of the city hits them. The drains are particularly potent. There are also a crowd of ne’er-do-wells in a huddle surrounded by a great cloud of death-stick smoke. Mama takes in a lungful of the rank atmosphere. “Ahh! Fresh air!”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is about, ma’am.” Joe-9T says.
“You’re on cage washing duty then!” She counters.
Karnov sniggers. “Ne need. We’ve got a service corps guy on board.” She glances at Niall, who has no response.
Jimmi adds. “Any chance of stopping off at Tatooine for a hold full of kitty-litter?”
Niall is wondering. “We still have to get close to Oona’s sister. And her brother….”
Mama stops him. “Just a sister. There never was a brother.”
“There never was a brother?” Niall echoes, not really paying much attention to what he is saying.
“No. No brother.”
“No. No brother.” Niall says again. Mama turns to the others. “This force hokum sure works easy, don’t it?”
“The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded.” Karnov quotes. The others chuckle.
They make their way back to the ship. More local hoodlums eye them up and glower, but our heroes are not in the mood for fighting. Karnov lags behind somewhat.
Back at storm Cutter, they’ve had visitors. In fact, the visitors are still there. Two Nosaurian bodies lie still beneath the ship.
Niall bends down. “They’re dead.”
“Dead?”
“As can be. –One way ticket to reptile heaven.”
Joe-9T bends down. He picks something up. “They left a card, sir.”
“What does it say?”
“While you were gone we tried to deliver a package. There’s a tick beside ‘two dead bodies’ and also a tick by ‘left shot dead under sentry gun.’”
“Show me that!”
“No card sir. Droid gallows humour!”
“Who are they?” Niall asks.
Karnov catches them up. She looks at the bodies. “What'd you order two dead guys for?”
They decide to drag them up the ramp. At the top, they search the reptilian bodies. “They look like tech crew. –Either that or they were going equipped.”
“Contraceptives are hard to come by in some places.”
“Not that. Equipped to rob, to force entry or to steal.”
Mama ducks back under the ship. “Sentry guns are still warm. I like the feel of a warm gun in the morning.”
The others snigger. “Are you talking euphemistically, Mama, or literally?”
“Any idea what happened?” Karnov asks. Jimmi tries to look back into the past. “I don’t know. I suspect the middleman, but I’m not sure…Always in motion the future.”
“What about the past?”
“The past is always fluid too.”
“The only fluid I see is two puddles of Nosaurian getting in the way of us getting our wage.” Niall says, rather unkindly.
Later Niall is looking over the bodies. “Either they’re petty thieves, or scouts for Igbo. Maybe he wants to know if we got the goods before he embarrasses himself. –Creature like him wouldn’t want to throw a party for us to unveil a litter of cute Jax in front of his friends.”
Rojic helps himself to the toolkits that both the Nosaurians were carrying. “Sentry guns two. Petty thieves nil.”
They prepare the cages. They consider feeding the dead Nosaurians to the Nexu. “I dunno, that seems unethical.”
“It’s now or never. They’ll be cold in a few hours. Then we’ll have to dispose of them.”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t tell me. I’m going for supplies.” Mama slips out for a moment. The final fate of the bodies is open to conjecture. On her return, they manhandle the cages into a caravan, as they are doing so, two uniformed officials come up.
“Inspection. Import duties to be paid. Come on folks, you know the routine.”
“Come aboard. See what we’ve got.”
The officials climb the ramp. As they do so, one of the Nexu gives a horrible roar.
“Er….” The official wavers. “Er….That’s gonna cost a fair price. Exotic off-world animals. The price’ll be five hundred per animal. How many did you say there were?”
“There aren’t any….” Rojic says in is smoothest tone. “They’re not real, just a figment of your imagination.”
“Well actually…” The official spies several credit sticks in Rojic’s fist. “Actually that seems to be in order. Only checking.”
“I was informed that Mister Igbo made all the arrangements, filed all the paperwork, and notified you. But if it helps, here’s five hundred….And an extra fifty for your diligence…” Rojic purrs.
Almost as though he’d used a Jedi mind-trick, the official purrs along with him. “Okay then. Docking fee paid. Paperwork must’ve got muddled up somewhere. I’ll blame one of the clerks. No duty to pay otherwise. Have a nice day.”
“And you too, officer.”
When the dock officials are gone, the crew put heavy tarpaulins over the tops of the cages and start to pull them through the streets to the dock. Luckily it’s not very far. Several townsfolk are curious, but when they hear roaring from under the covers, and smell the smell of the beasts they back off. Embu is there to meet them. A ferry-like craft is coming across the estuary.
Embu is silent. He and Jimmi exchange glances. There’s certainly some tension in the air tonight. They load the cages without mishap, and the ferry starts back the way it came. Once out of the narrow part of the estuary, they can see several islands.
“I’m sure the ferry is speeding up.”
“The water’s not as thick here. It’s like that fabled river, the Ankh.”
“The only river that’s known to stand around in lumps.”
“Talking of lumps, where’s Karnov?”
“She decided to swim across. Right under the sewage outfall, and into the polluted ocean.”
“Whatever floats your boat, I suppose.”
“He’s a man not a fish.” Niall quotes, practicing his steely gaze.
“I’m a fish, not a man….” Karnov replies, rising to the surface. “Actually, I’m not a fish…”
“That’s not what your exam paper said last time you took a test.” Niall retorts, rather cruelly.
“I’m more of a field operative. I’m not the academic type.” Karnov counters.
Jimmi and Embu are eyeing one another. The others keep a discreet distance and strain their ears. Some intimate conversation has gone on. Initially, Jimmi got the wiggins in Embu’s presence, but now the feeling has been muted somewhat. After some time, the ferry starts to veer around a large island, and as it rounds low cliffs, Embu strides forward. “We will be arriving soon.”
At the jetty, several minions come down for the cages. They are led off toward the forest. Embu leads our heroes up a few steps to a long avenue of trees. At the end is Igbo’s house.
“Nice house.”
“Naah! Bit gaudy.” Rojic says, rather unguardedly.
As they get closer, they can see that each part of the house clashes in style with each other part. Two enormous towers leap skyward at each end. Gold leaf is in abundance. Gaudy statues line the avenue. Mostly of Igbo and his family. There are also ones of Igbo slaying ferocious bests. The scale and the kitsch grandeur make some of them feel queasy. When Embu goes ahead to announce their arrival, Rojic turns to the others. He jerks his thumb at the house. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that this Igbo is over-compensating for something rather lacking in his life….Or maybe rather lacking in his anatomy….”
“Shh! Here come the escorts.”
They are escorted by escorts into a grand entrance hall. Our heroes boggle at the wealth on display, as well as the tastelessness of it all, while crooning their delight and trying not to transfer too much mud from their boots onto the sumptuous ornamental rugs.
The place screams money. It only whimpers taste though. Niall is playing it cool. After a long wait, they are seen into a grand ballroom. This is even more gaudy and tasteless than the hallway. Several fanfares announce the imminent arrival of their host, and many dancing girls and boys of many species gyrate and try to entertain. A young Twi’lek girl catches Niall’s eye, but he’s playing the part of the enigmatic hero too well. Mama is feeling uneasy. They are right in the lions den. Though the prospect of thousands of credits looms large in her mind, there is also a question of the morality of dealing with one such as Igbo.
There is a long introduction, where Igbo is praised and decorated and honoured, and praised, and toasted and praised again, then he rambles on for a while. Mama Nudges Niall, who has been doing the whole nine-yard stare into the middle distance, not flinching or moving a muscle for a good ten minutes now.
“What are you doing?”
“Being enigmatic. I’m finding inner peace. The calm of the soul. I’m just a stranger in a strange land. I’m the man with no name….”
“Niall?” Mama asks.
“Yes? What?”
“Oh, nothing…..” His head turns to her. He spies the Twi’lek girl again. He nudges Mama back, and her eyes follow his. Their eyes meet again, without any emotion showing. “This is a good game.” She says, flatly and not letting any hint of recognition into her voice. Igbo addresses them directly at last.
“I must congratulate you! Few have the skill and courage to capture such magnificent and fearsome beasts.”
Mama mumbles. “We’re only here for the money….” The others glower at her, hoping that Igbo hasn’t heard. Rojic flutters forward. “Well sir, the tracking down took a long while. We could have got many heads as trophies, but to capture one alive….We had to travel many leagues away from hunting parties to capture such magnificent specimens. We enlisted only two of the finest local guides….”
“-And where are they now?”
“The Nexu killed both.”
There is a ripple of shock among the courtiers, servants, flunkies and lieutenants in the room. “Of course,” Rojic continues, “Without your generous patronage all this would not have been possible.”
“I think without your support I’m gonna be ill!” Mama whispers to Niall as Rojic’s flowery language goes on. –And on….
Rojic is in full flow. “Of course, we could have offered the creatures to five or six other collectors. The Hutts prize them almost as much as you. –But we selected you as a man of taste, decency and standing in the community.”
“We stuck a pin in one of six names, and you’re the one.” Jimmi whispers to Karnov. Rojic is still droning on. “They’re a breeding pair, of course, plus two cubs for diversity and to continue the breeding line. The other parties, the Hutts can’t be trusted….” Rojic emphasises the last part. Igbo has been getting more and more excited at Rojic’s flattery. The other heroes are getting greener and greener around the gills at his sycophancy. Finally, Igbo gets in a word, slipped in edgeways.
“For you, my thanks! –And I award your team a hundred thousand credits!” There is a palpable intake of breath as the crowd let this information sink in. Then a cheer rises up. Some chant “Igbo! Igbo!” The crime lord claps several times. The wipers are dismissed. “Drinks! Food! Death-sticks! Make merry!” The party starts again like someone has put a credit in the slot. Several scantily-dressed dancing girls and boys approach each member of the crew. They offer their services of negotiable affection. Niall is keeping his calm, unfazed attitude.
“It’s alright sir,” Joe-9T tells him. “It’s all right to pretend to like girls.”
“I don’t need to pretend!” The party gets under way. “The things! The people! The things that people are doing to other people –with the things!”
Niall is watching the Twi’lek dancers. Mama comes over and watches with him. “Y’know, A Twi’lek is very nice, but a real man goes for a Farghul girl any day.”
“The last one we met carved a dozen men into inch cubes, then skipped with our money.”
“See? she had character! All these Twi’lek girls do is get naked and submissive.”
“I like naked and submissive!”
After a long pause, Mama asks, “Would you like me naked and submissive?”
“I think I’ll tke my chances with a dozen Farghul girls!”
Some time later, Rojic approaches Igbo. “My sincerest apologies, but my companion has taken rather a shine to one of your girls. He was wondering if you might consider swapping his share of the reward for the girl.” Rojic indicates a teenage Twi’lek girl, who has a passing resemblance to Oona, and then he points out Niall.
Igbo thinks. Rojic gets scared that he’s asked for too much, or that Igbo has been tipped off. Finally, Igbo concedes. “Take her! –Her kind are ten-a-credit”
Niall enthuses and gushes enough for Igbo to ignore him. A while later the crime lord goes to leave. “As a sign of my goodwill we will reconvene tomorrow. In the meantime I’d like to present you with a gift.” A servant bring a heavy trolley into the room. “Ooh! Sweet trolley!” Mama gushes. “One each I hope!”
Igbo hasn’t heard. “A gift each. These golden statuettes!” Rojic’s eyes bulge. His is worth at least five thousand credits! –However this doesn’t make him as excited as a young lady Toydarian, buzzing over the trolley. She comes over.
“I’m Mister Igbo’s personal accountant, and financial advisor….” She starts to say.
Mama is rather cutting. “Don’t tell me: You ran away from the circus to become an accountant….” The accountant gives her a hard stare, before turning back to Rojic. A few minutes later and they’ve discussed how attractive money is, and are locked lip to lip in the top corner of the room. A young man approaches Mama. “I’m at your service, ma’am. I’m fully functional in al departments. I know several score techniques in the ways of love…. I also find the older, fuller woman most alluring.”
Mama is flattered, but looks downcast. She takes the young man by the hand. They dance a sultry dance. They also lock lips for a while. Then they hold one another during a slow dance. After a few more drinks, the young man starts to lead her away, but she refuses. “I’m married…-And I’m sorry.” She tells him.
Meanwhile, Jimmi is flitting between Embu and the girls crowded around Niall. Eventually a decision is made. Embu and Jimmi will not be spending the night together. Igbo leaves. “He probably has some pressing villainy to be getting on with.” Karnov says.
“Goodnight!” Igbo tells everyone. To our heroes he says, “My house is yours!”
“I swear that man is wearing heels.” Karnov says, unkindly.
“My house is yours!” Rojic repeats, “Woohoo!”
Mana thinks. “I’ll ship it out of the polluted estuary, and somewhere sunny then!”
“Pastels would be nice.” Niall chips in, making the girl titter nervously.
“I’d install a water feature, and some koi-carp.” Karnov says.
“What about you, Joe?” Jimmi asks. “I’d not change a thing. I’m off to interface with the toaster, sir.”
Mama smiles. “Sweet. –One day he’ll be a real boy!”
With Igbo and some of his cronies gone, Mama circulates around the other crew members. “I’m not certain that I’m fully comfortable trading with such a notorious crime lord. It seems unethical.”
“Think of the money.”
I am thinking of the money! No amount can make what we’re doing right though. We’ll never get this close to him again. We could rid the galaxy of a really evil person.”
The others aren’t so keen. They are slightly uncomfortable at Mama’s moral standpoint, but are not letting it worry them for now. Even Karnov isn’t sure one way or the other. “There’s plenty of good things you could do with the money….But my advice is to sleep on it. –Something may turn up.” Mama is still confused. Karnov reassures her.
“Well maybe patience will serve us better than rashness.”
“You sound more like Master Junn every day, Karnov”
“Maybe I am. Goodnight.”
Our heroes retire for the night either alone or with company. Niall takes the girl back to a sumptuous room. She is nervous, but disrobes and lies on the bed all naked and compliant. Niall comes over. He slips a hand over her mouth. The girl’s body trembles. There is fear in her eyes. Niall calms her. “Your sister sent me. Act normal, but do as I say.” At this point, Karnov sticks her head around the door. “Special hell!” She says, and disappears. “I’m Reena.” The girl says. “Niall. –And I’m not here to hurt you.” The girl cheers up a little. “Or have you….” Niall jokes. The girl smiles nervously. Karnov appears again. “Why not? You’ve already had her sister!” Niall gets a pillow and throws it at Karnov, who leaves. Meanwhile, Jimmi and Tok Embu have not ticked all night. In the end, they go to different rooms. When Niall finds out, he quips, “In Jimmi’s little black book, he clocked Tok, and talked to Tok by the tick-tock clock, and gently mocked Tok, but didn’t tick Tok in the ticking Tok book. Tok was ticked off for not being a Tok tick. They’d had a tiff. After the tiff, Tok wanted to notch his bed with Jimmi’s tick. Tok never missed a trick. He was a tricky Tok. Jimmi didn’t tick with Tok, by looking at the clock, and promise to be back with his knitting kit in a tick. Time stood still for Tok, caught between a Tok tick on the tick-tock clock and a Tok tock on the clock that ticked for Tok.”
“Thanks, I couldn’t have said it better. –Or at all, for that matter!”
“If you repeat it out loud, it sounds better.”
“I think I’d need a master’s degree in Basic to get that right!”
“Read it again. It makes perfect sense!”
In the morning they awake so late, that it’s nearly afternoon. “Eighteen hour day, see? Before you have breakfast, it’s lunchtime. As soon as that’s over it’s suppertime, and as soon as you wash the dishes it’s bedtime!”
“Mmmm…Bedtime.”
“No chance of setting a personal best when the hours are shorter.”
“I think you mean when the seconds are shorter.”
“Okay seconds then… Hey!”
They are invited to bathe, and dress. There is no breakfast though. They are informed that brunch will be served on Igbo’s private skiff, a Nubian pleasure yacht. Mama looks on as it comes to collect them, wishing she could have Storm Cutter chrome plated. Rojic is eager to puncture that dream. “It’d just be over-compensating for something lacking in your life.”
“True….Too true.”
Rojic thinks back. “Say, do you think that Igbo was a little short?”
“Maybe. I’m sure he wears heels to raise himself up. –Little Rodian men, big egos. It’s all to do with being lacking in a certain department.”
“Yup, big egos, little architecture. I’ve seen it all before!”
“Shh! Here come the others!”
THe others approach. Behind them, are some trusted lackeys that are loading a crate with the outstanding money. Rojic is upset that Igbo has taken the thirty thousand off for the statuettes.They embark on the Nubian skiff. It’s all chrome plated and polished.
“Shiny!”
As soon as they are aboard, Igbo and his cronies come aboard. They are whisked off to another part of the island, where the forest gives way to a large area where the trees are planted more sparsely.
They are offered a large banquet, fit for a fascist dictator. It’s a pleasant breakfast among the tree-tops, though they do wonder what keeps the midges away.
“Maybe it’s your girl’s perfume Niall.”
“Then why are the midges not attracted to me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Embu and Jimmi appear to be part glowering at one another and part in love. It’s difficult to work out which. The others know not to get involved though. When brunch is cleared, a large speeder is seen coming toward them. It stops in the middle of the area. On it are six chained and gagged people, and several guards. Igbo gets up from his throne, and as the speeder draws near, he makes a speech.
“You are slaves! You are spies! You steal from Igbo. You may beg for forgiveness.”
One of the prisoners turns around. Our heroes manage not to gasp, as the gag comes free, and the long locks of hair blow away from her face. It’s Kory!
Another prisoner is unbound. This one is Oona! Minds race. What is going to happen is pretty obvious. Nervous glances telegraph between crew members, but they are cautious and remember not to give anything away. Kory isn’t going to ask for forgiveness or mercy. She snarls at the others. “Don’t give him the pleasure!” The other prisoners are almost as frightened of her as they are of Igbo. This in turn makes Igbo angry. “Binders off! He yells to the guards. The binders on their hands are removed. Then the guards give them little grappling spikes for their shoes. –Presumably for them to use climbing the trees. The members of Storm Cutter know that they’ll have to sprint to keep out of the way of any Nexu, who co-incidentally are prowling around behind a force-barrier at the edge of the arena. The prisoners don the spikes. In a few seconds, they are ready. Niall thinks that he has seen Kory and perhaps even Oona steal blasters from their captors. His spirits rise a little. Mama goes to a better position, from which to see. –She also moves her hand closer to her blaster in the process. Niall stands impassively, with hands on hips, one hand not far from where his lightsabre is. When he realises that Reena has recognised her sister, he shoots her a look to silence her.
Karnov closes her eyes. Embu dismisses this as a sign of weakness, but Karnov is measuring feet and inches in her mind, preparing for battle. Only Joe-9T makes any obvious move. “Disgusting behaviour…..” He says. Igbo shoots him a look full of scorn. Joe-9T turns a knob on his front. “Okay! I’m fine with it!”
The prisoners are forced at gunpoint to disembark. They drop down a few feet and stand in the clearing. The guards throw knives and clubs to the floor for them. Four of them are cowering. Kory and Oona are standing defiant. This enrages Igbo. He gives the order for the barrier to be switched off. Six hungry Nexu give a terrible roar, and come loping into the arena. Igbo sneers at the prisoners. “Now let’s see what my new pets can do!”
NEXT THRILLING EPISODE: "If you go down in the woods today...."
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