Chapter 4 – New Departures

Discblade Alliance Camp, Ablerin

Laclim Sector

Wild Space

1 BBY

Processing the refugees had stretched on interminably, especially at the end, dealing with the ones who required translation and had all sorts of strange cultural quirks. Many had no idea they were even on another planet. Two had thought they were in the afterlife. Faced with almost nothing she could do, Ji had eventually arranged for a smuggler captain to take them to a Longrun Shipping refugee outpost. The syndicate would no doubt treat them harshly, and the bulk of the group would spend the rest of their lives laboring away in hellish Outer Rim Oreworks mines, but it was the best chance she could give them. She comforted herself as she steamed off in the refresher and tumbled into her bunk with the thought that all other options had been exhausted. I am not Zeison Sha, I cannot work miracles, only give my best, even when it isn't enough.

Jia Ji was not one to forget such an indignity, however. The slavers had forced her to such routes, and she was more resolved than ever to crack the mystery behind these strange slaves.

So, as soon as her immediate duties were resolved, Ji made the trek to see Captain Juro.

The re-purposed docking bay serving the fifty-odd fighters of this Discblade Alliance cell was spacious, having once accommodated big Action-series freighters and ore haulers. It easily fit the handful of small freighters and pair of starfighters they possessed. Captain Juro, feeling staying aboard his ship was a barrier to communication, had erected a command tent using camouflage netting in the center of it all. He was there, typing at a terminal and accompanied by only by an astromech droid assistant, when Ji found him near midday.

Juro turned when she came in but did not rise. These days he usually chose to save his strength. The war is aging him fast, the squad leader noted sadly. But he has so many duties just as we all must bear. "Captain," she said, and bowed slightly as she entered, hands together at her waist.

"Ji," the duros officer smiled. "Welcome, what can I do for you?"

It did not surprise the woman that Juro knew she had not come idly. She did not like to waste time on idle visits, it was unsuitable with superiors. "I am submitting a report on the unusual composition of the group of slaves we liberated in yesterday's engagement."

"Save the trouble and just tell me," Juro waved away her formality as she had know he would.

"Very well sir," Ji replied. "It was an extremely unusual group. All near-humans, excepting a single human police officer they captured when he attempted to interfere," she amended, being thorough was important. "No Twi'Leks, or other local species common in the slave trade. The composition bears no resemblance to local demographics and must have been deliberately determined prior to raiding."

"Really?" Juro yawned briefly, not convinced. "To what end?" He questioned. "That would be very limiting, and expensive."

"I do not know," Ji admitted glumly. She hated presenting incomplete ideas. "I can only assume someone requires large numbers of near-humans for some purpose. The police officer implied the Zygerrians would sell them to some secret or isolated firm with no contact with the outside galaxy." He had been the only one with useful testimony, and even that had been limited. The slavers had been surprisingly professional. Zygerrians set great store by their species superiority complex, but prejudice could not account for it all. "Given the expense, it would be someone with considerable wealth."

"You make a good case," Juro admitted. "So someone is seizing large numbers of near-humans, are they? Well, something to watch for anyway. I'll pass that along to our contacts."

It was the reasonable response, to tell the Zeison Sha who kept the connections between their group and other cells, and to see what shook out in time, but it was not enough to satisfy Ji. Two hundred and twenty-eight lives were taken specifically for this nefarious purpose. It was a major threat, the key to something larger. She wanted urgent action. "I appreciate that Captain," Ji interjected. "But I believe a direct investigation is necessary."

"Is that so?" Juro turned about, stood up, and focused on her with those great big Duros eyes. She could only stand in place as he looked her up and down, measuring something with the vision of an officer who had seen combat for many years. "Hmm..." he scratched his chin with one hand. "You're really convinced this is important aren't you?"

"Yes sir," Ji held herself straight and firm, giving her utmost to proper military carriage.

"Your insight is usually good," Juro acknowledged. "If you think this is important I'm sure it is. That being said, that doesn't make it important to this unit."

"I am aware of that sir," In fact, Ji had anticipated Juro saying almost exactly that sentence. It was what any good officer would do in his place, and he was certainly such.

"Let be be frank for a moment Jia Ji," She tensed, worried about what came next. "You're the best squad leader I've got, and if I go down my standing order is for you to take the unit."

Ji stifled a gasp. He'd put her second in line? It could not be, she wasn't even close to ready to command the whole cell.

"You want to investigate this personally don't you," Juro went on. "I know you, you're one to take things too far, you've always got to be sure, to triple check, and then check again, to make certain its right." He shook his head. "This is war, and in war, that's not always possible. Look," he offered kindly. "I'll put the word out, make sure someone takes charge of this matter, but I need you here."

She wished she could believe that promise, but Ji knew the Discblade Alliance too well, better in some ways, than a purely military man like Juro ever could. There were always new projects, new needs, new demands on time and resources, every one of them urgent. This, well, someone would do a few data searches, slice a few files, and they'd find a suitable explanation they thought correct and then it would be forgotten. Without seeing it, without watching all those people taken out of the cargo hold, the strange, impossible collection of slaves in one place, without that visceral impact no one would understand it's importance.

Filled with trepidation Ji asked. "Are you ordering me to stay, Captain?"

The older Duros shook his hairless head. "No, I'm not going to force you to disregard an order just to hurt you Ji. This isn't a proper army, I can't make you stay. If you're really that committed, then go, and make sure you do find the truth."

"Thank you sir," she could not manage to keep her voice completely even. It would have been so hard, so very, very hard, to be forced to choose otherwise.

"What do you want?" Juro demanded next, putting her on the spot.

Suspicious, for she expected a fight over this, Ji began carefully. "I'll need the Nomad Sentry, I must have a ship."

"I see," Juro scratched his chin again. "Ultimately, that one's your ship, so there's no point crying over it."

This caused Ji to grimace. Yes, the vessel was in her name, but it wasn't her money that had bought it, that was her family's. She was not proud of such things. Despite this, she had expected more of a fight. The Discblade Alliance needed ships more than anything else, she would have thought Juro would try to dissuade her by forbidding her from taking any of theirs. That meant her other request might well be the target. "Beside the Nomad Sentry, I want to take Drado with me."

Juro's eyes narrowed. "You're asking for the best soldier I've got. I need that Kyuzo."

"I cannot go alone," Ji refused to budge. "If Drado is the second that's all I need, otherwise I'd want more support."

"Damn it Ji!" The Captain protested. "I know he's part of your squad and works better with you than anyone else so far, but you know the value of that one on a battlefield."

"To the many one man, no matter how great his talents, is merely useful. To the few, a great man is invaluable," Ji had learned many quotes in her life, but this one was particularly useful now, for it was the words of a Duros Jedi general from the Clone Wars. "You can carry on without Drado, there are many other good soldiers. Without him, I believe I have little chance of accomplishing anything."

Slowly Juro sat down, still shaking his head. "I wonder..." he muttered, staring off past Ji. "Well, fine, you've convinced me. I'll detach you, Drado, and the Nomad Sentry for an unspecified period of time. You can hunt down the pattern behind these unusual slaves."

"Thank you sir," Ji felt as if she was glowing. She had never thought it would go so well. "I will make preparations immediately."

"Right," the captain nodded, looking depressed.

Ji turned to go, but as she raised the tent flap she heard Juro add something else, low and somber, barely audible.

"I hope you're wrong Ji, and you come back with nothing but an odd coincidence," he whispered. "But if you're right, if this is a real threat, then you'd better stop it. I hope you're ready."

Jia Ji looked back to see only a strange alien regret in those pitiless orange eyes. She shuddered, but her decision was made, and there was work to be done.

"Drado, check the port side power couplings," Ji called down to the engine compartment from the cockpit of Nomad Sentry. "We've got flutter in that engine." The woman sighed as the Kyuzo warrior grunted back in the affirmative. Getting the ship together was taking more work than she thought. It had been damaged by a pretty serious laser barrage in the last space skirmish and the repairs had been considerably more emergency than Ji had been led to believe. Of course, repairs would probably be easier if either she or Drado had more than novice mechanical skills. As it was, the pre-flight checklist was proving to be a true ordeal.

We will get it done, Ji knew, there was nothing insurmountable to handle, but she was already sick of fiddling with parts and converters. Steeling herself she turned back to the command console and looked to the net sequence of system interchanges to test.

"Ma'am, there's someone here to see you," a voice interrupted over her wrist comlink.

The voice was Leviit's, which Ji considered normal, but why was anyone here, she'd already said her goodbyes to the squad and would be leaving the camp within hours. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"It's one of the refugees ma'am," the rodian elaborated.

One of the refugees? Ji didn't get it. Several had stopped by to see her in the past forty-eight hours, mostly to express utterly embarrassing amounts of gratitude, but she'd told the other fighters to have any more turned away from the camp. They were becoming a security risk. "Why did you let this one in Leviit?"

"He was very insistent ma'am, wanted you personally and not anyone else," the rodian seemed uncomfortable.

"This had better be worth the effort," Ji grumbled, knowing it would mortify the rodian trooper. Ultimately, she rather welcomed the distraction. Standing easily she took the few steps necessary to get to the exit of her little ship.

What she saw at the edge of the boarding ramp was not what she expected. It was not some teary-eyed near-human, but the police officer who she'd spoken to before all the others. It took a moment for Ji to recognize him, for his appearance had changed dramatically. His short brown hair had been shampooed and combed, straightened up in a pseudo-military cut. The ragged remnants of his homeworld's uniform had been replaced by a gray jumpsuit and a combat vest. Previously unarmed he'd somehow acquired a blaster pistol and a buck knife. He did not look like a cop, not exactly, but he certainly looked like he belonged in tough company. "You are the deputy," Ji spoke to cover her surprise. "Officer T-" she slipped, failed to recall the name, and cursed the lapse.

"Travan," he answered, his voice had a dusty accent, and rough tones, but as before he was direct and easy to understand. "Kamick Travan, my friends call me Kam."

"I am uncertain that we are friends, Officer Travan," Ji noted archly, confused as to why this man was here, and how he had acquired the gear. She had given him nowhere near the funds for such purchases. "Or why you have come to see me, and apparently applied rather forceful persuasion to one of my men." Technically Ji wasn't in command of anyone but Drado right now, but she wasn't about to let her troops be pushed around so.

"I had to say some drastic things to get in here," Kamick admitted, and looked at least moderately contrite. "But I needed to speak with you."

"Considering the apparent change in your fortunes," Ji's remark was laced with a special kind of noble sarcasm not precisely common on the edge of space. "I find my doubts considerable that you need to speak with me."

Kamick looked down at his change of clothes, and weapons. "Oh this?" He chuckled. "Well, did you know that if you add just a pinch of volcanic ash to some ales it looks almost exactly like Corellian Whiskey?"

"You got someone drunk, pretended to be so yourself, and then robbed him blind," Ji noted darkly. "Thievery is not a good way to impress me." Yes, she was engaged in wholesale armed resistance to the most powerful government in the galaxy, but she was not a criminal.

"He was a spice dealer, pimp, and rapist," Kamick spoke flatly. "Since there's no law here, well, no one should mind if I enforce a little bit of it."

"Did you kill him?" Ji needed to know. She could appreciate smacking around the strongarms who ruled this worthless excuse for an asteroid, but there were still lines.

"No, I just left him sprawled in the street on his swoop, naked and with a few broken bones," Kamick explained. "It should look like an accident."

"Hmm..." Ji upped her estimate of this man a little. He was not just a cop who happened to blunder into a slave raid. He'd absorbed the core of some hard training and learned flexibility as well. Still, rather headstrong, and she'd bet whichever gang this pimp belonged to was already on his trail. "I see. Well, consider that you have my attention. What did you so desperately need to speak to me about?"

"You're going after the slavers aren't you?" he probed.

"Why do you think that?" it was a ridiculous retort standing on-board a ship in the process of powering up, but she wanted to hear what kind of answer she would get. He couldn't have known she was working on it prior to coming inside the camp.

"You told me you were going to reach the truth," he replied in a deeply serious voice, and his eyes seemed to take on a terrible focus. "I believe you one to keep your promises."

So I am, the squad leader agreed. One's word, given in good faith, was a thing of great value, and not to be sacrificed save for the greatest of needs, she had learned that line as a child. How could he tell? Ji was puzzled. This officer had spoken to her for only minutes, and surely his mind had been on other matters. She worked constantly to maintain tight control of herself, how had he read her so easily? "Accepting that as truth, what does my pursuit of the Zygerrians have to do with you?"

"Simple," Kamick's face split wide open in a great big grin. "I'm joining up with the mission."

"Excuse me?" Ji was completely flummoxed.

"I want to find the truth the same as you," the deputy elaborated. "So I'm coming along on this mission."

"You have no idea where I'm going, who is with me, how long it will take or how dangerous it will be," Ji struggled for balance. "How can you even conceive of this?"

"It's simple," he shrugged, not at all put out. "Officially I'm dead, so there's nothing to tie me down, and I'm committed to this cause. I've got to finish it."

There was nothing to reveal it overtly, but Ji caught a hint of desperation in this words. This is a man without a home, his whole life stolen from him. He has only this to drive him on. It worried her. Such men are dangerous. She had seen Imperial atrocities and met survivors. The man with nothing to lose was an armed grenade.

"Why should I allow this?" She wasn't sure why she would even contemplate it, but there was something in his demeanor that suggested acceptance. "What assets do you offer me? Surely not combat skills," she jumped out ahead of that conversation. Some policemen thought they were invincible heroes because they'd taken down a few local toughs and quailed in the face of actual combat.

"You're going after slavers, after a criminal organization," Kamick's speech had the tenor of one rehearsed, but it did not stop the resistance fighter from paying attention. "You're a officer, a soldier, and so is everyone else here, or maybe they're pilots, or engineers. That's great against the Empire, a military enemy, but not so good against criminals. You need an investigator. That's what I offer."

"I recall you claiming to be a sheriff's deputy, not a detective," Ji mused skeptically.

"That's right," Kamick didn't back down. "I was the sole law enforcement officer in an territory with more surface area than this whole rutting asteroid. I had to be ready for any kind of trouble. I'm no polished city detective, but I can find out what's going on out there. Besides, you getting a better offer?"

She had to concede the last at least. He does have a point, Ji admitted privately. Criminal investigation had not been any part of her schooling, and Drado, for all his skills, was a warrior first, last, and only. "I will admit that your skill set could be useful, and I could use an extra hand in any case, the Discblade Alliance can always use assistance, but I am not sure I should trust you. Perhaps you are a plant, a slaver who hid amongst his cargo to escape death in battle?" She didn't really believe that, but she wanted to see if she could set him off.

It worked, partly, Kamick's whole body tightened up as she watched. "You want proof of who I say I am, here!" he thrust out his right hand, palm up. "You know why slavers normally kill cops, not take them?" She did not, but he was already answering. "The Empire's got a genetic record for each of us in our files. Take a sample and run it, that'll prove I'm who I say I am."

"It will not be necessary to violate your privacy in such a way," Ji said quietly. "I believe you, that is not a claim to be made in a bluff, and you have the open face of an honest man. You have not lied to me."

"Then why-" the deputy was clearly puzzled.

"I asked for proof and you offered it, despite the humiliation," the squad leader answered calmly, as a teacher might. "That was the rational response, and not the answer a man obsessed with revenge would have given." She drew in a breath, weighed matters for a moment, and made her choice. "You may join this mission Kamick Travan, if you agree to swear to never betray the Discblade Alliance and to follow my orders in battle."

"Fine."

She had not expected a refusal to such modest conditions. "They is one other thing," and Ji smiled cruelly. "The other member of the crew needs to agree as well."

"Other crew mem-" A shadow appeared over Kamick, and suddenly Drado had landed in front of him, unfolding into two full meters of corded alien nastiness. "Son of a cinder!" the deputy swore.

"Cho," Drado muttered in his own language. "Vudao." The kyuzo warrior the strange alien tongue was deeply foreign, as always soundly muffled by the breathing apparatus he had to wear.

At Kamick's blank look, unsurprising considering how few members of the species were in this part of the galaxy, Ji smiled. "He's says you're naive." She noted, a sentiment she was inclined to agree with.

"Is that a refusal?" the man tightened up, looking ready to fight.

Lightning quick Drado jabbed him in the gut, just beneath the edge of the protective vest, with a three fingered hand.

Kamick coughed and hacked, but lunged forward, throwing himself at the Kyuzo.

Drado dodged back, and Kamick's hands slipped off armored robes, but it was a very close thing.

"Enough!" Ji demanded. "Point made, I should think."

Drado nodded. "Xo."

"It seems you pass," Ji smiled, Drado's directness was always refreshing, and often revealed much.

Kamick shook his head, managing a weak smile. "I don't know you, but you can sure hit," he muttered to Drado. He leaned heavily against a landing strut and gasped for breath.

"Don't feel bad," Ji added. "Drado is extremely capable, I've never met anyone better who wasn't Zeison Sha."

"Right," the deputy managed to straighten up. "So, moving on, I'm all aboard for this, what's next?"

"Go stow your things in one of the unused cots," Ji instructed, noting that wouldn't be much. "Then grab some tools, we've got to fix the rest of the ship up."

"Copy that," Kamick acknowledged, and headed up the boarding ramp.

Ji reached out in his direction and started to warn him, but he had a long, fast stride.

Reaching the top Kamick promptly hit his head on the doorframe.

"Rut!" he barked. "What's this?" he glanced inside. "Wait a minute, I'm not that tall."

"You are not short either," Ji noted, for he was most of a head above her, though she was admittedly a small woman. "But the Nomad Sentry is. I'm afraid that's how Phoenix-Hawks were made. There is little comfort to be found aboard, but she'll get us from place to place."

"I'm not worried about comfort," the policemen scowled. "Grew up camping on ash flows, but I'm going to get such a crick in my neck..."

Ji shrugged. Personally, she had no problems aboard. Sometimes it was good to be short.

As they finished the repairs over the next few hours, Ji kept her mind focused on immediate matters, but eventually Kamick's patience failed and he asked a question he'd been carrying for a while. "You were already getting the ship ready, so you must have plans. Where are we going?"

Still getting used to the 'we' component, Ji was initially hesitant to reply. No, she determined. The choice is made. This man is with us now, for better or worse, and he must become a comrade. For that there must be trust extended. "Smuggler's Run."

Kamick drew in a breath. "Really, that's...not supposed to be very nice."

"It isn't," Ji confirmed her inkling that though the deputy was only a few years her junior at most he had little experience off his homeworld. "But it is the crossroads of the Kalat Arm, and the center of much traffic in slaves. Our targets, the Coldiron Conglomerate, have been sighted there often enough, and it is the best place to start gathering intelligence."

"It's also one of those legendary shadowports you're never supposed to visit if you wear a badge," Kamick replied sourly.

"You no longer wear a badge," Ji admonished. "That man is dead, you are a soldier for the Discblade Alliance now, and we are not without friends on Smuggler's Run."

"Oh," She could tell from the shocked look on his face he hadn't really considered this. Well, she thought. It doesn't matter for now. If he still thinks of himself as a cop that is normal, he will come to the rest in time.

"You will see," she muttered with cryptic amusement. "Now fasten down those bolts so we can get out of here. I want to launch in ten minutes."

"Right," Kamick moved with alacrity to complete the task.

Perhaps three will not be so bad, Ji considered, but her mind was still far from made up. Smuggler's Run, she suspected, would provide necessary answers in more ways than one.

Chapter Notes

Nomad Sentry is a Phoenix-Hawk class light pinnace, a patrol ship that was deliberately built small and spartan as a way to cut corners. It is a canonical vessel. By this date they were very rare in the galaxy at large, but in a remote region such as the Kalat Arm, remained common.

Ji's dealings with Drado are intended to show that while the Discblade Alliance has a military structure and organization, unlike the Rebel Alliance there is no concrete fleet delineation. Everything is much more informal.