Guest starring: Star Miya's smuggler, Chalinda.
III
Many people would have celebrated, having accomplished so much. But Mhyra just concentrated on work . She was aware that the power vacuum in the underground world would not last forever. But for the while the scales were tipped in her favour, and she wanted to make the most of it. She made holo-calls, met with friends and called in favours, building and stabilising her little empire bit by bit.
Risha was helping her, running Port Nowhere and seeking powerful, wealthy allies, while her fiancé was trying to win the throne back for her. But it was clear that at some point she would leave for Dubrillion.
Corso had left to rejoin the Republic military, probably with his heart broken, though really, Mhyra had tried to do as little as she could to encourage the kid. Akavi Spaar had also left – and good riddance, Mhyra thought, because she had never liked the Mandalorian.
Bowdaar stayed by her side as her loyal bodyguard and co-pilot. Gus stayed, too, and Mhyra found him a job that should guarantee some safety both to him and others around – he was in a makeshift lab on Coruscant, overseeing a small medical facility and kolto production.
It seemed that most of her friends were doing well. Chalinda was still working with Nico Okarr, both playing Republic privateers, and both making some serious credits on it. Alilia was running the White Maw, but independently, not as part of Mhyra's crew. Beryl Thorne and her friends did some jobs for Mhyra from time to time, but they were not working for her on regular basis, and could not be counted as her people. She knew, having learned from Nok Drayen's and Diago Hixan's experiences, that being too powerful was not a good thing, as too many people could and eventually did get jealous. So she preferred to have some friendly competition – or at least one not opposed to peaceful dealings – than to have only enemies.
As long as she remained a single player, not a head of a large group, she was considerably safer. Especially considering that Rogun the Butcher was still alive, and that his criminal empire was still the biggest. But there were other enemies, ones that would not be placated by such tricks.
She doubted the Empire would ever forget that she had killed one of their admirals. Eventually, someone would come for her, seeking revenge, or maybe just to teach her a lesson. A smuggler getting rid of one of their highest-ranking officers – that was a crime that the Imperials could not simply close their eyes to.
So, once every holo-call was made, every message sent and every meeting finished, and Port Nowhere was safely stationed near Coruscant, in the very seat of the Republic, Mhyra decided it was time to go on vacation. Or, rather, to go into hiding for some time, but that wasn't how she told it to her crew.
And there was probably only one place in the universe where the Empire could overlook her and from where she could still run everything. Better than that – a place where, had the Empire come looking for her, she could still hide and never be found. Tatooine. Far enough from the galaxy to be uninteresting – both the Empire and the Republic had battled over the planet for a while, but had eventually left, as it had simply been not worth it. Far, but close enough so that messages and cargo could be passed with ease.
And she had friends there. Well, maybe friends was an overstatement, but some of the people that had worked for her father once still lived there, and she could count on them. More than that, she could trust them. True, she did not know where to find them, not after over a decade – they had probably moved several times since then. But they always knew how to find someone they were looking for. And they were always looking out for her.
And, as she had predicted, they found her, in her hideout on the outskirts of Anchorhead. To think of it, they had probably been watching her from the moment she had set foot on Tatooine. And once they had found her, they came straight to her. On Tatooine, no one paid attention to a small group of suspiciously-looking, heavily armed mercenaries, in fervent hopes that they would in turn not pay any attention to him.
Their leader was a huge man, half as wide as he was tall, and just a bit more bald and with more grey in his beard than she remembered. She grinned and waved at him, and he waved back.
"Uncle Jard!" she called.
He was not crying, but his eyes definitely looked watery. "Ah, little Mhyra..." He briefly crushed her in a hug. "All grown up now. You father would be so proud..."
She raised her hands, cutting his words short. "Please, not now. This is supposed to be a joyous occasion, isn't it?"
"Sure thing, girl. Come on, you'll meet the gang." His brow furrowed. "How much trouble are you in, exactly?" he asked, guessing the reason of her arrival.
"Just a little." She winked. "You know us Galens."
Jard Hall, ex-soldier, ex-mercenary and retired smuggler, sighed. "I was afraid of that. But don't worry, girl, we'll hide you. And kill anyone that'll try to come after you. You'll just have to tell us who your friends are, because we wouldn't want to hunt them down, too, would we?"
. . .
"Well, for Taooine, this is pretty cosy." Risha stretched out on a pile of embroidered pillows and reached for her drink. "Though..." she grimaced. "I'd rather have wine than this."
"Trust me, this is better in that heat." Mhyra took a sip of her beer. It was a light ale, slightly fruity, slightly spicy and very refreshing, especially served cold. "And yes, I think my little hiding hole turned out quite fine."
Risha sighed in exasperation. "Listen, it's not your comfort that I'm concerned about. It's your safety."
"No need." Mhyra smiled. "Trust me, Risha, there are places on this planet that no one would ever search in for anyone. And they're not even that hidden."
"So the rumours are true, then?" Curiosity flashed in Risha's eyes. "I've heard someone at the spaceport, talking about a mad woman who has some dealings with the Sand People. Like, she gave them back the Lightspring, and when she settled in another cave near their territory, they didn't kill her. Bah, they didn't even protest. Well, the rumour has it that they've never tried to shoot her. You know anything about that?"
Mhyra kept smiling. "I might."
"Come on. Keeping secrets from me, after all we've been trough?"
"Ah, but remember that you kept secrets from me, too, Your Majesty."
"Oh, please, don't." Risha shook her head. "Fine, fine, I won't pry."
"Let's just say that I have friends here. And some of them worked for my father. Does the name Old Hall ring any bells?"
"Jard Hall? Jard 'Sergeant' Hall? He's here? Half of the bounty hunters all across the galaxy were looking for him, after the Empire offered to pay even more credits for his head, and he's hiding on Tatooine?"
"Not where anyone would look." Mhyra smiled again.
"Alright, now I believe you're safe here." Risha relaxed and settled more comfortably on the pillows. "How long are going to stay?"
"A couple of months?" Mhyra shrugged. "However long it will take the Empire to find more pressing matters than hunting me down. Well, maybe a little shorter, if I find a job than will land me in company of some competent, handsome Jedi Knights."
"I can ask Sumalee to find you some work..."
"Aw, I knew you were going to miss me, but that's really sweet of you to admit it."
Risha rolled her eyes, shook her head again, and finally laughed. "Fine, I won't ask her. Enjoy your vacation."
"I'm definitely going to. But keep your eyes open for good work opportunities."
Risha smiled. "Darling, I'm always on the lookout for good opportunities."
. . .
Mhyra felt that she should be celebrating, really. In the past, it had never taken half as much as she had just accomplished. But this time, she did not feel like celebrating. But, since she already was on Tatooine, she could do something else.
Finding the place was not difficult – the sandstorms changed the face of the planet, shifting the dunes, but the rock formations remained. That, and she could ask uncle Jard to find her a reliable guide. Some of her father's people were still on Tatooine, and made it a point of honour to help her if they only could, or at least to see to her safety.
She visited the site – there were no sings, after all the years, but she knew and remembered – and spilled a bottle of the most expensive wine she had onto the sand. Ah, Papa would have liked it, and so would Mum. But there was no point in dwelling on the past, was there? Her parents had been the first people to teach her so. They had loved freedom, and they would often take a bottle of expensive wine – which her father would get especially for her mother – and visit their friends, to dance together and celebrate life and freedom.
And that was why she took more wine and went to visit uncle Jard and his friends – those old that she knew, and those that she had met only recently, like the female Zabrak who claimed that she used to be a Jedi Knight. They drank together, and later some of them reached for drums and other instruments which names she couldn't remember, and they danced long into the night. Not the kind of dance she would do in a cantina, no. Something more connected to the desert and the wind, something more primal, but more sophisticated – something more natural, that called to her heart, because if freedom had been a dance, it would be that one.
But that was a part of her that Mhyra rarely ever showed to others, even those close to her. Maybe because she showed it rarely even to herself. But sometimes she needed that, to get some rest. And then she was back to the sarcastic, cheeky captain everyone knew. Because, among the things she liked in life, credits, adventures, drinking with friends and dancing scored really high.
Another package delivered to its new owner safely – that was a good excuse for celebrating. That, and freeing Bowdaar from Drooga the Hutt – though the Wookie decider that he'd rather celebrate by having a few hours of silence, a good meal and some sleep, and Mhyra respected that.
Risha, for once, decided to leave the ship for a while, but she quickly got bored with teasing Corso, and returned to the Wheel of Fortune. Corso stayed, and soon they were joined by Mhyra's old friend, Chalinda. Back when they both had been about Corso's age, they had been working with Nico Okarr, and over time they had become close friends. And then, over time, because work tended to throw them across the galaxy, their friendship had loosened, but still they met from time to time to chat and talk about the good old days and good new days. So when they had learned that they both had business on Nar Shaddaa, they had immediately decided to meet.
That was definitely a good night. Club Vertica had everything a smuggler might want on an evening off: great drinks, live music and luxury. Sure, the prices were high, but it was worth the money, and since their recent job had earned them a nice amount of credits, prices were not a problem. So they danced, drank and danced again, and drank some more. Then Corso kept drinking, Mhyra switched to dancing, and Chalinda was busy flirting with every handsome man – of any species – in the cantina.
Mhyra had just finished another drink and was getting up for another round of dancing. Corso was watching her sullenly; apparently, he had finally given up trying to get Mhyra's attention, after a few failed attempts.
She shook her head, laughing at him silently, careful not to let him see that. Oh, he was a nice kid, chivalrous and all... But still just a kid, at least for her. Too naive, not sarcastic enough, too unsure of himself, and to eager to please. It was obvious that he was fascinated by her, but Mhyra was just not interested. Simple as that.
And that was when she stopped thinking and started dancing. It was a good night, really. She had helped Bowdaar, which was important because of her past. She had gotten her ship back, and had even something of an acceptable crew, which was a bonus. The business was good... Mhyra smiled to herself. Also, there was Darmas. He was still a bit of a puzzle to her, but their acquaintance certainly seemed very promising.
She had not replied to his message, not yet – letting a man wait a little was always a good strategy – but she smiled every time she recalled it. And the holo-sculpture he had sent was nice, too. She was not an expert in art – well, aside from the 'where could it be sold and for how much' aspect – but it was pleasant to look at, and it was nice of him to send her something.
When another song was over, she decided to return to the bar and get another drink. She loved dancing, but it was tiring business.
"Captain Galen!" called a familiar voice when she approached the bar.
She turned and found herself face to face with a smiling, pleasantly surprised Darmas Pollaran.
"And here I thought you were doing some legitimate work." She grinned. "And then I find you in a cantina."
"Just waiting for a business meeting." He loosely wrapped an arm around her, and she stepped close, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Which is most unfortunate, because I'd rather have a meeting with you, sweetheart."
Mhyra laughed. "Flatterer." She reached for his glass and took a sip. "Water? By the stars, you weren't joking..."
"Disappointed, sweetheart?" When he wanted to, he could smile like a real scoundrel, and she liked that. It was both funny and a bit appealing, and it was obvious he knew that, too. "I know I am. To think that I'll have to leave such a lovely woman so soon..."
She pulled away and arched her eyebrows. "I'm sure it's a crime somewhere," she said, in her most serious voice.
They both laughed.
"Ah, I missed that." Darmas smiled at her, then waved at the barman to order her a drink.
"So, tell me, because I don't understand... If you're working, and I really think you are, because you'd be drinking wine otherwise... Then what are you doing in a cantina?"
"Waiting for my contact. And I'd rather wait in a cantina than at a hotel or at the spaceport."
She nodded. "Okay, you have a point."
"I'm waiting for a holo-call, and then I'll have to leave immediately, but..." His voice dropped a little. "I'm pretty sure I have enough time for one dance. What would you say, sweetheart?"
Mhyra smiled. "Oh, you know how to convince a woman..."
. . .
They were dancing slowly, bodies gently pressed together, his warm hand at her waist, his fingers barely brushing the small of her back. Mhyra kept smiling, glancing up at Darmas from time to time. It was all just a game, but what a delightful game it was.
"So you think now it's time to be subtle?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. "After all the flirting and after, ah, sabacc?"
He laughed quietly, then turned his head slightly to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "Subtle is always good, darling. Everyone needs subtlety sometimes." And then he pulled her closer, close enough for a kiss. "Although I'd rather be having another game of sabacc with you, my dear. But, alas, it seems my work is in the way."
"Are you sure you didn't mean 'a woman', mhm?" She pulled, steering them towards a darker corner of the cantina. There was no way she was going to let the rascal go without at least a proper kiss.
"Oh, there is a woman. Senator Dodonna, who hired me," he reminded, then laughed again. "She can't hold a candle to you, sweetheart... Wait." He looked at her closely, his hand coming up to touch her cheek. "My, my... Are you jealous, Captain Galen?"
"Jealous? Oh, really?" Mhyra held her head higher, feigning indifference and trying not to laugh. "Would I really miss so much?"
"Ouch, that was a nasty blow to my pride..." He pretended that her words had hurt him, but his eyes were laughing.
"I'm sure you'll recover in no time." She grasped the front of his tunic. "Remind me, why should I be jealous?"
Smiling lazily, Darmas leaned to kiss her. A slow, unhurried kiss, meant to seduce. He definitely knew very well what he was doing... and that was what she liked in him.
"Okay, I might reconsider... But surely, Darmas Pollaran, you can do better, can't you?"
He laughed. "Ah, sweetheart, you're a delight. And you should never be jealous, because anyone who would choose another woman is not worthy of you." And then he kissed her again, putting an arm around her waist to keep her close.
Mhyra wound her hands around his neck and happily let him kiss her. Yes, Nar Shaddaa had always been her good luck charm.
And then his comm beeped quietly. Darmas cursed under his breath, then flashed an apologetic smile at her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. There's business to be done. But I'll contact you when I'm back. Unless you don't want that, of course..."
She smiled up at him, her fingers curling into his hair. "Isn't it bad manners to invite a lady for a game of sabacc and then leave her?"
"Ah, you mean my message?" He smirked. "I'd never do something like that, of course. I pride myself on my manners. So, when I get back, I'll find you and renew my invitation." He leaned in for another kiss, which was an invitation all on its own. "In person." Darmas stepped back, smiling at her. "Good hunting, Captain Galen."
She grinned, watching him walk out of the cantina. Yes, that really was a promising acquaintance. And, unlike Corso, Darmas was a man who could offer what she was looking for, but without any complications. And with life experience. A proper amount of right life experience was always a good thing.
. . .
"So," Chalinda grinned, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You and Darmas Pollaran, eh? Who'd have thought." She raised her glass to Mhyra. "You're in for a treat, girl."
"Oh." Mhyra arched her eyebrows. "So you and Darmas have...?"
"What? Force forbid, no!" Chalinda laughed. "It was years ago, and a one-time thing. I was a little tipsy, he was a little tipsy... We danced, kissed a little, nothing more. But I've heard some rumours." The Twi'lek grinned. "Well, anyway, he's all yours."
"Oh, come on. We both know that type of men."
"From what I know, he's not as terrible a flirt as people think." Chalinda giggled. "Well, anyway, you two should get on perfectly."
"So, what about you? Still doing business with Jet?"
"Nope. Remember Nico Okarr?"
"That old flyboy who's become the Republic's hero? Of course." Nico was one of the few people in the galaxy that Mhyra would call friends. At least sort of. They had worked together a few times, they had flirted a bit – more just to pass time that for any other reason, and it never got further than a few jokes. "Still wearing his trademark hat? You're still working with him?"
"Yes, and yes. We're doing business together."
"Uh-oh." Mhyra whistled.
"Shut up. But, well, yes, we're business partners, more or less."
"Are congratulations in order?"
"Mhyra. Shut up. And grab another beer." Chalinda grinned. "And tell me some more of you and Darmas."
"Well..." Mhyra smiled lazily. "Not much to tell yet. But, whatever his reputation in sabacc is, I think he earned it."
"Which type of sabacc do you mean?"
Mhyra grinned. "Well, I can only speak of one, but I think he's good at cards, too."