XXX
Lysander "Cody" Folen
The garrison base, despite being one of the most modern buildings in Cindra, lacked air conditioning. The Sun bore down, cooking them inside alive like some sort of exotic meat. At least, that's how Lysander felt, cooped up inside Vash's office.
He sat in one of the worn, gray leathery chairs off to the side, not doing anything. The Commander himself was behind his desk, cluttered with papers of inspections, complaints, and stars knew what else. His father, the Police Chief, was sitting across from him in another ugly chair. The whole room was ugly; no color came through except from the windows and small assembly of medals on the wall. Slate Imperial gray dominated it all.
Dad always dragged him here, now. He hardly spent time in the station anymore, he seemed to busy. Lysander desperately wished he could leave and go out to the group, but those days, he feared, would never come again. Alone and kept away from them was what Chief Folen thought best.
"Squad Two thinks they might be hiding another spice storage under this Toydarian's home," he heard Vash mutter, pressing an ungloved finger to the map of the town.
"Did they check inside?" Father asked tiredly.
"They did, but now their squad leader thinks the Toydarian was being too shifty when they neared his bed. They suspect a trapdoor or something beneath it."
Folen sighed. "So you need another warrant. You know I can't hand these out like candy."
"You know I could just barge right in, but…" Vash bit his lip, and Lysander rolled his eyes. The whole situation with this guy Jabor seemed just overdone. Sure, the guy had seemed a little scary back inside South Tip, but he had been very nice to both of the Folen's since then. He had even offered to give Lysander a ride off-planet someday…
Not that Father would allow it. He'd shut that down faster than his friendship with the orphans.
Restless, he stretched his limbs. I gotta get out of here. I'm going to die of boredom in here, I swear.
"If there's actually spice inside, Jabor won't be able to complain if you break in," Folen argued, leaning back in his seat. "In fact, he might even repeal it if you can get that progress to Rellius."
"And if there isn't, he'll just make more complaints to Rellius," Vash bit out. His bald head was thick with perplexed sweat. The heat didn't seem to affect either of them, but the stress certainly seemed to. "This is getting more stressful by the day. Everytime we cap one of the rings, two more sprout up!"
"And what about… our thieves?"
Lysander tried to make himself look as bored as possible as Vash's eyes flicked to them. He knew who they were talking about, even if they didn't say it.
"They're surviving," Vash said shortly. "And frankly, I'm content to let them do so. Jabor can't ask about them when we have higher level crime going on anyway-"
"Speaking of Jabor," Father said tightly. "That wouldn't happen to be…?"
Vash held up a silencing finger, but it only stopped the talking, not the quiet beeping now coming from a datapad on his desk. "This is Commander Vash."
"Ah, Commander. Perfect." Lysander couldn't see the screen, but he recognized the pompous voice of the Governor. "I would like you and Chief Folen to come to the Export Station as soon as you can. Representative Jabor has returned from his offworld duties with some important news."
"We will leave as soon as we can," Vash said between his teeth, then closed down the datapad. "Terrific," he growled to to the Police Chief. "I'll leave my men on doubled patrols, should keep things controlled."
"What about me?" Lysander asked, just wanting to get out of the stuffy office.
Father hesitated. "Can I just be allowed to go around the garrison?" Lysander asked quickly. "Not go outside, but at least walk around? I don't want to be stuck in here!"
Vash held a warning finger up. "You can walk around, but not outside. Got it?"
"Got it!"
"We'll take my speeder, it's parked out front," Father said without looking at Lysander. "You take care of yourself, kiddo, alright?"
The door opened, hitting him with a blast of fresh air, and he breathed it in like the elixir of life. Freedom, at least partially. "You got it, Dad. Safe drive."
XXX
Gallis Iscander
The arrival of the miners had almost tripled the original population, and thus new avenues of commercialization were available. The market they had broken into and subsequently been caught in now had three competitors, all very close to one and other. A permanent watch by Asinus, Chief Folen's deputy, was established, as were four blank faced stormtroopers who spent more time watching reruns of HoloNet sabacc than watching the actual customers.
The density of people was high. Gallis could sense the animation around them as they walked. Is that what it's like walking around the streets of Coruscant?
He had heart billions of people roamed that city. Cindra was probably just a single block of space to them. It often bewildered him.
His heart hardened. And a lot of other people do to.
"Hey, you okay?' Adelia was watching him with concern. He smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are we ready?"
She pointed at a group of twelve beings haggling over a fresh slab of gorker meat, a winged creature that flew around the peaks of the mountains on Ommas. He recognized none of the alien species; he wasn't even sure they were all speaking Basic.
"On three?" he murmured, beginning to wrap his face in the soft white cloth.
"Three," she agreed, pulling out her own. "One…"
He looked to the stormtroopers. Still watching their screen.
"Two…" Asinus was trying to talk up a much younger woman. She clearly had no interest.
"Three." They finished wrapping their faces and both ran forward towards the groups, hands outstretched. He couldn't help it; a smile broke his features. Kennex would be furious when he found out what they were doing; he had gone out for another disgruntled walk. But the excitement of doing something they had come up with was too much.
"ZAVAJ?!" He looked up into the face of the alien's whose pockets his hands and entered. The neck was nonexistent; four great black eyes stared at him from the center of a milky white face. An arm pushed him away. "Zabuja ni katuka!"
He gave a two-fingered salute, then his hands purposely dug into the pockets of the alien next to them. She shrieked in something he couldn't even begin to try and understand, and this time both her and the first alien he had openly pickpocketed. "Zavaj nu cyka kula!" it shrieked, one hairy arm closing around his wrist. It's other waved at the stormtroopers, repeatedly shouting, "ZABUJA! ZABUJA!"
Adelia was likewise in the grip of a human; she had only gotten as far as the one. The other members of the group had now turned on the commotion, the haggling forgotten. Passerbys we're also starting to stop and observe.
The stormtroopers looked over at the noise of the alien, giving them their next cue. Curling up his fist, Gallis gave the alien a quick, "Sorry!" before sucker-punching it in the face and stepping on its feet. It howled and hissed, lurching backward into the crowd. No one caught him, and he fell to the dusty ground.
Adelia was doing the same, her "captor," jumping up and down and holding his open-toed shoes.
"Hey, stop!" one of the stormtroopers shouted. Asinus likewise had abandoned his failed sweet talk and was coming over, clumsily drawing handcuffs.
And that meant their final step was coming. Lysander looked to the female Duro, and Adelia nodded. Together, they reached into their waist and pulled out the small black balls.
Kennex would really kill them now. He smiled behind the wrappings with anticipation..
They threw down Seron's smoke bombs, and the scene exploded into chaos. Beings began to cry out in panic and escape the sudden mass of smoke. In their panic, they began to trip over one and other. A human ran right into a Trandoshan eating some sort of raw meat treat, causing it to hiss in fury and punch him. The human's friend saw this and socked the Trandoshan right in the snout.
"Stop the commotion!" the stormtroopers cried. "Get Commander Vash here, now!"
Warning shots were fired into the air, but the chaos only increased right before his eyes. Small individual fights were breaking all over, and the shouts of "THIEF!" was echoing from one of the smaller stands.
"We need backup!" another stormtrooper cried, right before he was bowled over by a pack of Devaronians, all locked into a violent tussle. The smoke was dissipating now, but they had done their job. A full blown riot was in the works.
He felt kind of bad. People were being hurt, he could practically feel the agony coming off some people. It sent shivers up his spine as he raced with Adelia away from the scene.
"That was fun!" she breathed. "That was definitely better than breaking into somebody's home when they're not there!"
"I wouldn't do it again," Gallis said hoarsely, looking back. The confusion of the scene was drilling into him, and he couldn't understand why. Why does this happen to me? He demanded of himself. He hit himself in the head a few times, but the wrappings softened it, and the dark feelings persisted.
"Heat's getting to me, too," Adelia said, still looking at him. "Come on, let's get back to the house. Time to let Magnus and Cecilia do their part of the plan."
XXX
Chief Pacem Folen
The Export Station had originally been a water purifying station from the acidic river that ran through the Kiroli Valley. It had been rebuilt on Governor-General Rellius's orders, and was now crude yet imposing structure that hugged the Kiroli Mountain a kilometer away from South Tip. A small spaceport lied in front, where Alignment cargo vessels periodically arrived to ship away the plastoid ore to parts unknown. The place had the smell of industrialization and hard labor, much like Arkanis had. Chief Folen wrinkled his nose at the memory. Some things were best left forgotten.
The airfield was fairly full. Two cargo ships were there, being loaded by stormtroopers and station workers with durasteel crates laden with raw plastoid ores. However, a large, elegant black shuttle was behind them; it towered to nearly the height of the actual Export Station. Folen frowned; it was certainly out of place amongst the almost simple layout of the port.
Vash handed his identification papers to the guard at the door; a fresh recruit from the rejuvenated academy on Porrax, he guessed. The young stormtrooper analyzed them briefly, then allowed them in.
Instantly a loud clamor reached their ears. At least ten miners, dressed in the bright white tunic's of official laborers, were chatting amongst themselves, waiting for the ore teller to take their goods. Here, the ore's were handed in, examined for authenticity and pureness, and then the miner's were promptly paid.
"Upstairs," Vash said, his tone taut. "Rellius has his private quarters there."
"Why so tense?" Folen asked as they ascended the slightly crumbled stairs.
"I recognized that shuttle. It's Representative Jabor's."
"Ah." He still didn't know how he felt about Jabor. Certainly he had taken an interest in Lysander during his month of stay after the incident at South Tip. He was certainly very cultured and prim, though he couldn't shake the image of him callously stunning Kennex in the mine.
Vash certainly despised him, and Folen had the feeling it went both ways. Not a day went by when the Imperial Commander criticized how Jabor seemed to be influencing Rellius- and therefore himself- on Ommas.
The stairs ended, and he wiped some sweat from his forehead. The heat was finally reaching him; he wondered if Lysander had been feeling it as well.
Two of Rellius's elite Vanguard Squadron guarded the doors to the Governor's temporary quarters whenever he came to Ommas. Originally, he would always visit the capital of Ommas, Tellik Prime, but the mine now sucked his attention away.
"Commander Vash?" one of the stormtroopers question imperiously. His rifle was slung over his right shoulder, while his left bore a long, red shoulder sleeve signifying his elite rank.
Vash nodded, and the two stormtroopers opened both doors for them.
Folen suppressed a whistle of awe. The room was a perfect, blemish-free white. Blue and white banners hung on the walls, as well as replicas of artwork he had never seen before. Wherever Rellius went, it seemed, his luxuries were never far behind. Compared the the derelict state of the rest of the building, the room was as out of place as a bantha at an Ugnaught family reunion.
The Governor himself was seated in a velvety red chair, legs crossed and arms clasped before him in his olive-gray uniform. Upon their entry, he stood and stepped forward to shake their hands warmly. "Thank you for coming, gentlemen."
"Take a seat," the familiar voice said. Jabor was not sitting in his seat; he was at one of four large windows that allowed the room to have a view of the spaceport below. Sunlight filtered in, drowning out the pale lights above their heads. It made his black uniform look slightly less imposing.
Vash hesitated a moment, then chose another one of the red chairs. Folen followed suit; they were very soft and squishy, and he forced himself to remain upright.
The New Republic Representative turned around, a datapad held in his hands. "I had asked you to come here for a specific reason, but it now seems we have some delay?"
Rellius frowned, his clasped hands coming undone to rest on the armchair rests. "What now?"
"It seems a riot is breaking out in the market section of Cindra." The pale face purposely turned to look at Vash with a small smile. "And a break-in at the garrison is being reported as well."
Folen stared. "A break-in? Who would be stupid enough to try something like that? It's the most protected place for kilometers, besides this station!"
The Commander was looking back at Jabor, his face reddening. "Then you understand we need to cancel this meeting so I can go and be with my men?" he said menacingly.
"I think not. Perhaps this will show us how good your soldiers are without you tugging their leases."
"They've never experienced something like this-"
"So you're telling us you have not trained them fully?" Jabor interrupted smoothly, and Folen understood. He's testing him. Maybe Vash's worries were justified, after all.
"That's not what I said at all," Vash countered angrily, his helmet swaying precariously on his bald head. "They need their commander-"
"And I think having you here will be the perfect opening to my speech to you all," the Representative said. He turned pointedly to Rellius. "Do we have your authorization, Gathoren?"
The Governor-General shrugged. "Fine by me- the longer I'm here, the longer I have to stay away from the petty issues on Argos Major."
Vash's face reddened further, but he remained silent. Folen looked at Jabor, feeling unreasonably queasy. There was something about the man that told him he very much didn't want to know what he wanted to say.
The feeling, however, wasn't universal. Rellius clapped his hands. "Well, while we wait for this issue to resolve itself, let's reacquaint ourselves with civilization on this backwater planet. Redstripe, four glasses of the ale we brought with us from Argos!"
