8
Up at the crack of dawn, Zenaa scarfed down some nutrient paste, then headed out the door. Radee was still in the sonic shower, oblivious – or so she hoped – to what his daughter planned for the day.
It took over a month of scrounging and saving for her to reach this moment. Bounding along, she whistled a merry tune. Togrutas were known for their ill tempers, but Radee had always been patient with his daughter, showing her how to ease away the anger. Most of the time, these days, she was happy.
Gand prowled the back alleys, stun sticks in hand. The Hutts didn't permit them to take slaves from the main thoroughfares – though that didn't always stop them – but the back alleys? Why not; usually only scum slunk in and out of the dives which littered the alleyways.
Fortunately, Zenaa's goal was the central market, so she stayed on the main street. When she arrived, Nivva was only just getting to her stall.
"Ah, the Bako girl," she said, eyes sparkling under the morning sun. "You got-a my money?"
"You got what I need?" Zenaa asked in return, then glared at Nivva until the Toydarian grunted.
"Yeah, I got it," she said. From her satchel, she drew forth a compact memory core. "It still needs a power source, but I figure-a, you got what it takes to find-a one, eh?"
Quickly, Zenaa reached for the core. But Nivva was quicker, palming the device and fluttering up, over Zenaa's head.
"You think-a I'm crazy or something?" Nivva's glare was cold and self interested. "You got-a the money?"
From her pouch, Zenaa drew one hundred copper coins. She slid them into the machine on Nivva's stall table. The computer bleeped and whirred, confirming one hundred.
"Good," Nivva said. Only then did she drop the core into Zenaa's outstretched hands.
"Rad!" Zenaa said. She'd sold most of what she'd scrounged lately, and all of what she'd repaired herself, to at last reach this pinnacle. The core was intact, as Nivva had said. Zenaa would have given the Toydarian what for if she'd tried to pull one over on her.
A power source was already waiting back home. All Zenaa needed to do was get the core there.
"Hi, Zenaa."
"Oh, hi," Zenaa said flatly. Her erstwhile friend, Wibiv, always seemed to smell when she had a great find.
"Whatcha got there?" Wibiv asked.
"Junk," Zenaa said, securing the pouch to her hip. Then, she glared at Wibiv. "Why do I get the feeling you're not here for a chat?"
The Gran held out her hand. "I know you got a memory core. Hand it over."
Instead, Zenaa ran. The market square was the center of Jabfar. All the main roads, and most of the back alleys, met in the square.
She knocked over a stall. A Klatooian woman shook her fist as Wibiv darted around, then a droid got in Zenaa's way. The tall, lanky thing was moving crates. Feet first, Zenaa slid beneath the droid's thick, separated legs.
The alley she took branched off in two directions. Zenaa bounded right. A door opened and out stepped two Gamorreans carrying large crates. One saw her dashing towards him and tried to move, bumping into his pal. The other tripped backwards, then bounced off the adobe wall. Zenaa deftly slid between them, before they crashed together, dropping their crates, shouting curses at the girl.
Zenaa darted around another curve in the alley, then shot across a circular meeting place of five alleys. She hid in a doorway, panting, but trying to stay as silent as possible. The sounds of running feet strayed from her own path, taking one of the other backstreets.
After another minute, her heart calming, her palms no longer sweating, she sighed in relief. When she took a step out of the doorway, however, a fist slammed into her gut and she doubled over, the wind taken from her lungs.
"Dirty, schutta!" Wibiv roared. "I ought to rip off your montrals." The Gran kicked Zenaa's leg, sending her painfully to her knees on the rocky ground. "Give me that memory core."
When Zenaa didn't act quickly enough to suit her, Wibiv grabbed the pouch on her hip. Her hand slid inside. Zenaa tried to get her breath back. Rage bubbled beneath the surface, but the agony in her lungs wouldn't permit her to get up.
"Mine!" Wibiv said in triumph, holding the core in her hand. She grabbed Zenaa up by her rear head tail and punched her in the stomach again.
Dazed, Zenaa dropped to the ground, coughing and wheezing. She could barely look up at her tormentor, but she managed.
Just then, a net filled up the sky behind Wibiv. It came down on the Gran. The shock made her drop the memory core as she struggled to get free.
A Gand Findsman – or Findswoman, Zenaa could never tell – then another and still another, gathered the kicking and screaming girl up in the net. When Wibiv landed a blow to one of the Gand, it staggered backward, but then surged forward, shock stick in hand. Wibiv shook and Zenaa smiled grimly.
As they dragged away the Gran, one of the Gand turned Zenaa's way, mumbled something in its hard to decipher language, then turned and followed its cohorts.
"W-why didn't they take me, too?" Zenaa said as she picked herself up. Had they met their quota for the day? She shrugged, glad they left her alone, whatever the reason. She scooped up the memory core and hurried home.
The core that had been in P7 previously had died. Nearly finished, it had been a big setback. Now, she happily tinkered with a tiny power converter, installing it into the memory core. Then, the whole thing slid perfectly into Peeven.
The droid bleeped and whirred and sprang to life. As it took stock of its surroundings, it blooped reprovingly.
"What do you mean, 'what a trash heap'?" Zenaa asked harshly. "This is my home."
Peeven blew a raspberry, then let out several startled bleeps.
"No, this isn't the slave quarters of the mansion," Zenaa said, now a bit confused. "Where do you think you are?"
Peeven went through a series of whirs and buzzes.
This made Zenaa laugh. "No, you're not on Sarapin anymore and you're not a noble droid. This is Sleheyron and we're serfs and we own you."
The droid told her what it thought of that.
"You can go kriff yourself, too," Zenaa said. "Let's go; I'm taking you to my dad."
Reluctantly, Peeven got moving as commanded. At Radee's shop, her father gaped when he saw them enter. "By the stars, Zenaa, where did you get that?"
"I made him. For you." Zenaa beamed.
Radee beamed, too. Then he grabbed her in a warm hug. "You're the best, most resourceful, kind daughter a man could have."
Peeven blew another raspberry, then chittered on about how the decor here was so chintzy, and he'd have to brighten up the shop a bit. The droid rolled into the back room, commenting on their terrible use of space and all the tacky items in the shop.
"Did it just say it thinks we run a pig sty?" Radee said, amusement making his eyes gleam.
"I think so," Zenaa said, then shrugged. "Maybe I'll go give it a memory wipe."
She was about to do just that, when Radee set a hand on her shoulder. "Leave it; it's... quirky," he said.
"It's Hutt-spawn," she said, but then smirked. "All right, Dad; P7 is yours, so you do as you please with it."
She missed his thanks, as she got the feeling a Duros was grabbing something off one of the shelves and running from the store. When she turned, she saw that, somehow, she'd been right.
"Dad! Call the security forces," she said, taking off after the Duros. She didn't think he was one of the protection racket thugs, but if he was, then there might be a way to get the Hutts involved. It was bad business, even for thugs, to extort money from a shop and then rob it.
She stayed back, remembering the pounding she took from Wibiv. However quick the Duros was, she was faster, and she trailed him till he went into a door in a back alley, a few blocks from Radee's shop.
No one else was in the alley – the Gand came out at night and usually were gone by late morning – so she waited patiently for a few minutes. Of course the security forces never came.
"They've got better things to do, like kiss Zumm the Hutt's backside," she said to herself with a shudder. When she thought enough time had passed, she palmed open the door and hurried inside.
The place was deserted. It had once been a shop, but everything was overturned and broken. A perfect hideout for thugs. As she got closer to what had been perhaps a storeroom, she heard the thugs talking.
A fine prize, an uncharged blaster, lay on a cracked counter. If they were going to steal from her, she reasoned, she could do unto them. She grabbed the blaster and began backing away, trying to make sure no one saw her.
When she bumped into something, she winced. The door hadn't been so close, and this something was lumpy, and it moved.
Scaly hands grabbed her by the shoulders. A Trandoshan hissed at her. "Theft is a crime here, little girl," it said and dragged her out of the hideout.
Before she knew what was happening, the Trandoshan had dragged her into a lift. Only 'official' thugs of Zumm the Hutt had access to the deep underground. Zenaa's heart sank as her body went down, down.
"What you bring me?" Zumm asked when the Trandoshan shoved Zenaa forward.
"She stole this, Master," the Trandoshan hissed, holding up the empty blaster.
"E chu ta," Zenaa said in response. This got a deep belly laugh from Zumm. "A Duros stole from my Dad's shop," she said defensively. "I tracked him to that hideout."
"Hmmm," Zumm scratched his chin. "Maybe I believe you, Zenaa Bako," he said, her name from his lips sending chills down her spine.
"Well, I'm telling the truth," Zenaa said.
"We got a pod race coming up," Zumm said, seemingly off topic. Then, he connected the dots for her. "You got spirit. Maybe you race for me."
"I'd rather marry green and scaly," she said, jabbing her thumb behind her at the Trandoshan.
"Ho, ho ho." Zumm's laugh made her wonder if he was considering it. More chills down her spine.
"You got spirit, all right," Zumm said. "Maybe I let you go, girl Zenaa." His large, bulbous eyes flickered up to the Trandoshan. "Get whatever was stolen back for her shop," he demanded.
Then, he fixed Zenaa with a glare so fierce, she feared he would burn a hole through her. "But you be careful, little girl, ho ho ho. Zumm got his eye on you now. You make him mad, and you be in big trouble."
"It's always scary when a Hutt talks about himself in the third person," Zenaa said when she was above ground again. When she got back to her shop, Radee was pacing.
"Oh, Spaceangel," he said and hugged her. "Is everything all right?"
"I got Zumm's attention," Zenaa said. "Did that Duros bring back what he stole?"
"Yes, but he said you were in trouble with the Hutt," Radee said.
"Maybe, maybe not." All Zenaa could do was shrug. It had been an interesting day, to say the least.
