Chapter Twelve: Mandalorian Master

Now:

Canderous, Zaalbar, and HK-47 walked the grime-covered streets of Nar Shaddaa's Corellian Sector. Canderous had guessed that since Davik's former top smuggler was trying to regain his reputation, he'd be playing it safe with jobs. There were plenty of employers in this sector who'd jump at the opportunity to employ a playing-it-safe smuggler solely because they could push him around and he wouldn't protest. Credits were something Simer most likely didn't have, and would be grateful to anyone willing to hire him. And knowing Revan, she was keeping her mouth shut the entire time, staying below the radar in an effort to cover her tracks. However, Revan wasn't aware that Canderous knew she was currently hanging out with Simer, nor that he was searching for her, which gave Canderous the advantage.

The Mandalorian informed his companions to stick close, not answer any questions, and not to look anyone in the eye. "If anyone asks," he said, "Zaalbar owes me a life-debt and HK-47 is my droid."

Zaalbar snorted that he understood. HK verbally confirmed, then asked, "Query: Where do you propose we start looking for Master and the smuggler meatbag she is traveling with, Mandalorian Meatbag Temporary Master?"

"First of all," Canderous answered, "drop the 'Mandalorian Meatbag Temporary Master'. Second—"

"Qualification: Until my Master ceases to be my Master, I can only refer to her as Master."

"But by calling me Master, you help to locate your real Master," Canderous pointed out. "And we won't raise suspicion by people wondering why you're referring to me as your temporary master."

HK thought about it for a moment, then said, "Acknowledgement: In an effort to locate my real Master, I shall play the part of your droid and refer to you as Mandalorian Master, even though you truly aren't."

"Whatever." He shook his head. "There're a few places I know where smugglers and bounty hunters hang out. We'll find what we're looking for there."

"Query: And if we do not?"

Canderous smiled. "Trust me, droid. Trust me."

"Observation: The furball says that quite often, and his plans seem to involve me somehow losing my blaster rifle. Although, fortunately, his plans so far have proved flawed, and I have been able to maintain the weapon."

Zaalbar roared that it was his idea to contact Canderous, and his idea that HK send the coded message which, in fact, worked.

HK ignored him. "Statement: I no longer trust the furball when it comes to courses of action. Do not have me arrive to the same conclusions about you, Mandalorian Master."

Canderous snorted. "My plan doesn't involve you selling that beloved gun. Although, droid, this is your kind of town. You can't get anything done without a few idle threats. And you'll need that blaster in order to do so."

"Statement: That pleases me."

After walking for a while, the three entered Shady Café. "If you want to know what's going on in Nar Shaddaa Smuggling Land," Canderous told his companions, "this is the place to come." As they entered, the Mandalorian made mental notes of the deals going on around him, and casually looked to see if he recognized anyone. He silently wished his companions were humanoids, and could easily blend into the crowd. In a place like that, it was difficult to tell a Wookiee and a droid to spread out and look for Revan… even if she was here to begin with.

Canderous made his way to the bar and had a seat. Zaalbar sat next to him, while HK stood behind them, ready to strike if necessary. The former mercenary flagged the bartender and asked for a drink, while the Wookiee ordered two plates of the daily special. "Hope you have enough credits for that," Canderous said after the bartender walked away.

"Observation: This place appears to be filled with numerous scum and scoundrel-type meatbags," HK said. "You were correct. I like it here."

Canderous snorted. "I'm so glad you approve."

After a few minutes, the bartender returned with their orders. Canderous nodded at the man, then said, "So what's new around here? Haven't been to Nar Shaddaa in three years."

The bartender looked at him. "What're you searching for?"

"An old friend," he said. "Nal Simer. Seen him around?"

"Don't know who you're talkin' 'bout," the bartender said.

"He used to be Davik Kang's top man," Canderous casually continued, "until he dropped cargo. Now he's grabbin' whatever small jobs he can, avoiding the Exchange, and avoiding me."

"Exchange I can understand," he said. "But why's he avoiding you?"

"He's got something of mine," Canderous said. His eyes narrowed and his hands held his drink even tighter. "And I want her back." He took a sip of his drink and eyed the bartender as if to ask 'Catch my drift?'

The bartender nodded. He leaned against the counter. "If you pal's grabbin' small jobs, I can tell you the hottest thing to hit the smaller bosses is kolto."

"I'm listening."

"Those damn Selkath have hiked the prices up makin' it scarce," the bartender continued. "All the smaller bosses got men thievin' it so they can sell it to poor saps ain't got none. You find a boss waitin' on a shipment, bet you'll find your man."

Canderous nodded. "Thanks for the tip." As the bartender turned and walked away, the Mandalorian turned to Zaalbar and HK. "Stay here. I'm gonna go see what I can find. And just… just stay out of trouble."

Zaalbar nodded.

"Statement: No one shall get past me. I shoot to kill."

Gambit landed on Wayt's personal landing dock behind Gioco's Casino and Cantina. "Looks like we've got a welcoming committee," Liana noted as she looked out the side window. "Ten guards."

Nal looked. "Five more than usual," he said. "Then again, we do have forty-five crates of kolto."

"Which equals to twenty-two thousand five hundred credits," she said. "Fifteen percent of which is mine."

"Woman, you're going to keep reminding me of that, aren't you?"

She smiled. "I am looking to buy a new wardrobe. Maybe something in purple."

Nal just shook his head. "Look, I know you're going to jump all over me, but I'm just sayin' that you need to be careful. That many of Wayt's lackeys means there's going to be trouble."

"I can take care of myself."

"Again, of that I have no doubt," he said. Liana sensed his need to protect. It reminded her of so much of Carth. "Just… these guys can be slimy. And they like to change the rules whenever they feel like it. So keep your ears and eyes open."

Liana said nothing in return. As Gambit powered down, Nal stood up. "I'll go first and do all the talking. You stick close and keep a look out." She nodded, then stood up and followed her partner. Together they exited the ship, with Nal leading.

"Gred," Nal said to a guard with dark hair wearing what looked to be a heavy combat suit. "Nice to see you again."

The man showed no emotion. "Simer. You have Wayt's kolto?"

"All forty-five crates, as promised," he replied. "You got the credits?"

Wayt's second in command reached into his pocket and pulled out two credit chips. "Two thousand five hundred," he said. "Fifty six twenty five up front, the rest after we get the kolto."

Nal looked at Liana. "Quarter of the total. Standard." She said nothing. He stepped forward and accepted one of the credit chips.

"Feel free to use a checker," Gred said. "But you'll find, as always, Wayt doesn't short change to his smugglers."

"I'll take your word for it," Nal said, and pocketed the chip. He turned towards the rest of the guards, then looked back at Gred. "Now, gentlemen, let me show you the kolto."

Zaalbar was finishing his meal when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned and saw a rather intoxicated, red-faced man with brown wavy hair and dressed in typical-looking spacer clothes. "I don't like you."

The Wookiee sneered that he could care less, and turned back towards the bar.

The man tapped Zaalbar again. "I said I don't like you." He hiccupped, then added, "You're too furry. You need a haircut, bub."

From behind Zaalbar, HK-47 chimed in with back-up support. "Statement: You shall step away from the furball unless it is your desire to become a bloody stain on the floor of this establishment."

The man turned to the droid. "Hey, I'm jus' tellin' him that I 'on't like him."

"Intimidation: And I am just informing you to step away from the furball." The droid raised his blaster. "Do you desire a demonstration of the power behind this blaster rifle? I would like ever so much to open fire on your meatsack body."

Zaalbar howled for HK to lower the weapon. Canderous had told them both to stay out of trouble while he looked for more possible leads on Revan and Simer. HK ignored him.

The man took a step forward towards HK. "Are you threatenin' me, droid?"

"Qualification: You are dominated with an excess of alcohol and undoubtedly your circuits were unable to compute this information."

Zaalbar softly snickered.

The man took another step forward and almost fell. "You use big words, tin man."

"Aoplogy: I shall endeavor to use a mono-syllabic vocabulary."

"Now you're makin' fun of me?"

"Explanation: I am merely attempting to adjust my discourse so that comprehension on your part is not as strenuous."

Zaalbar continued to snicker. Although this situation was fast becoming the very thing Canderous told them to avoid, the Wookiee had to admit that for the time being it was entertaining. If the droid could keep his hostility level down, Zaalbar was all for HK handling negotiations from here on out. If only Revan were here to witness her droid in action. She would undoubtedly be pleased and possibly horrified.

The man clearly had enough of HK. He took a swing and punched the droid in the chest, then howled in pain. HK remained undamaged. He looked down at where the man had hit him, then looked at the man. "Explanation: I am constructed out of reinforced durasteel—"

The man nursed his hand, then glared at HK. "I'm gonna rip your circuits outta your head!"

"Extrapolation: Considering you foolishly struck my steel frame and the only injured individual is yourself, I hold great reservation that you would be capable of fulfilling that alcohol-fueled threat." Angry, the man let out a scream and lunged forward towards HK. The droid merely side-stepped, and the drunk patron fell face first on the floor. "Observation: I was correct."

Zaalbar placed a furry paw over his mouth to keep from laughing. He was about to compliment the droid when suddenly the sound of Canderous's voice could be heard. "What the hell are you two doing?" Canderous asked as he approached HK-47. Zaalbar wondered just how much of HK's face-off the Mandalorian saw.

"Recapitulation: The intoxicated meatbag currently lying on the floor of this establishment—who is also unconscious—initiated the original confrontation with the furball."

Canderous snorted. "He started it."

HK nodded. "Affirmative."

"Didn't I specifically state for you two to stay out of trouble and not draw attention to yourself?"

"Explanation: I successfully adverted the trouble the meatbag on the floor was hoping to cause," HK said. "As you can hear, the meatbag is currently exhaling air through his nasal passages at a loud decibel level, and no longer posing a threat."

Canderous looked down at the passed-out drunk, then rolled his eyes. "I think I have a possible lead, but I get a feeling the source isn't all that trustworthy. I wanna keep poking around. Let's go."

"Query: Are we departing? I was growing rather fond of this establishment."

"And that has me worried, which is why we're leaving."