Chapter 1: Floph

Kamino was a wet planet. There was water everywhere. Before he had taken the job, Floph had been told to bring a hydro-repulsor-as if he would be caught without one on rainy terrain!

I must have left it back at my room on Kour. There's no other explanation.

He seemed to have made some friends of the weather dieties, however. The planet was in an ironically dry season. The ocean levels waved, but the rains were nowhere to be found.

The waters moved with the tides, pulsing to and fro, seeming to give him the runway he needed to Tipoca City. The estuary between the vast ocean all around him, and the fresh water that the Kaminoan Capital processed, somehow formed concentric circles that narrowed and focused with the stilted city at the center.

The luckiest part was, it wasn't even raining!

Floph piloted his freighter, the Red Razor, away from the only landing platform that he saw. In orbit, he had been told to avoid this one and head toward the tower on the southeast hub. That's where the library was.

He found it without difficulty, using a spare hand to send the communication burst that would be picked up by the droid he was to meet.

The droid. Floph hadn't met the client, but had been told to expect a data engineer. Someone who works with information. Surely, the droid would be able to give him another job-it was his duty to know who needed cargo smug-sent on!

As he descended toward the hub, a hatch opened and the Communications Console began to to blink green.

"Red Razor, coming in for delivery to the Lo Hurla Library and Records Office. Cargo two crates of biological matter and records," he said. Fancy way of saying 'Here's your corpses. Where do you want them?'

The voice coming back to him was both clear as humanoid and robotic. "Once ship identity is confirmed, further instructions will commence. Ship identity is confirmed. Deliver crates to Curator's Office for compensation."

The line cut off before Floph could respond.

Droids.

The path to the Curator's Office was simple and well marked. Floph didn't even notice a speck of dust along any of the walls or stalls along the way. He didn't even notice any food stalls!

How was he supposed to spend his earnings after getting them?

He nodded to a few of the Kaminoans as he tried his best to appear professional, receiving a respectful bow in return. As Captain of the Red Razor, it was his duty to exemplify a satisfactory transition of product for credit.

The circle on the wall nearby hummed open with a minor vibration in the air around him, and a Kaminoan slowly came through the now open door. Floph knew it wasn't his door, but the tables and scents from inside made his mouth water. It had been a long few days since his departure from Kour, and he was ready for some fresh food.

Turning back to the hall, he found his datapad blinking with confirmation that the following entry was the Lo Hurla Library and Records Office. As the circular hatch closed behind him, leaving him in near darkness, he wondered who Lo Hurla was.

The lights brightened smoothly, showing a room that was orderly and packed with other crates of similar style to the one Floph was tugging. Looking up, he noticed that they were all centralized around the statue of a Kaminoan shorter than those he had met in the corridors.

Before he had time to admire the art, he heard the servomotors of a droid as it came out from behind a taller pile of crates to the back of the room.

"About time someone showed up," Floph said confidently. "I've been waiting to get rid of these crates for what seems like days!"

"You have only just entered the office, and the order was placed one standard week ago," the droid responded.

"On Haucha, our week has 17 days."

"The order was placed one standard week ago," the droid repeated, reaching out for his datapad. "Awaiting delivery confirmation. Please allow for observation."

Observation? Floph raised his hands defensively, "Hey pal, I haven't opened the crates and I don't have the desire to. I'll let you do the honors." Floph unlocked the crates and stepped away.

The droid came to the crates and, with strength that had Floph guessing the droid had installed it's own muscle-mods, casually examined the biological goods inside. It had been kept in cryo-containment for the trip from Kour. He knew that he should give the droid a moment to examine the goods.

Instead, Floph asked "I'm glad it's all there, and I can't wait to see this confirmation. You may enjoy it here, but I'm looking to get paid."

The droid allowed the containers to noiselessly close and lock again before swerving to stare in his direction. "Delivery is satisfactory, you'll find your payment has been transferred. Much obliged.

Nice manners for a curator, he thought. Now for the sweet talk.

"Hey thank you…I didn't get your designation."

"CZ-8K8."

"CZ-8K8, your job will help put food on the table. But I didn't see any restaurants out there," he jabbed a finger away from the crate filled office. "Can you recommend a good place nearby?"

CZ-8K8 rotated and went to an area behind the statue. Floph noticed that it had a desk with a few smaller containers and datapads. "While this one does not require nutrients of any kind, public locations in corridor spaces are limited in Tipoca City."

He didn't like the sound of that. "Limited? How limited?"

"Non-existent. You will find dining establishments on Tipoca Station Alpha. There are several. Please excuse me for processing."

Floph watched as the droid went behind the desk and grabbed a datapad to manipulate. Floph weighed his options. He could leave and just spend some time on the Space Station he'd gained authorization from to land. He'd get some good food there!

He went with his other choice.

"You know, I was kind of curious about what I was hauling here. I notice," he announced, waving his hand around the office, "that there are plenty of crates and biological deliveries that you've acquired. Don't you have enough?"

"These specimens are of extinct species of animals from around the galaxy. Their DNA will remain in storage to prevent elimination from the collective consciousness."

"Well that's...a good thing."

Seezee jerked his head to face Floph. "Of that, we are agreed."

So unlike a Kaminoan, he told himself. There's no way they were the ones to program him.

"Do you need anymore extinct specimens? I'm headed back out to the wide galaxy and can always use a job," he said hopefully.

Seezee continued to gaze at him-or at least in his direction for a few moments more. "You wish to further the collection of the Lo Hurla Library and Records?"

"I can see no better alternative," he said with a small bow. He pinched his thumb and forefinger together in the universal symbol for a credit chit. "Provided the payment is satisfactory, of course."

"Of course, would you come this way please?" Seezee left the processing datapad on the desk and moved toward the shadows of a corridor that he had come from to greet him.

He had never seen such a confusing system of requests in his life! Floph had been unable to read the order manifests Seezee had given him, and when it had been translated a few minutes later, Floph couldn't find rhyme or reason to the orders at all!

There were requests in the form of demands, demands that made Floph think it was a gift, planets listed in the Core that he knew were Mid-Rim planets, and some entries were even listed in triplicate.

It reminded him of when he had finally passed his certification on Florrum and obtained the Red Razor. The fabulous life he's had since aside, the confusing bureaucrats and convoluted forms and method of filing had nearly driven him to insanity!

Floph wasn't interested in trying to translate the entries any more than he had.

"Seezee, I can't make sense of this mumbo-jumbo. Do you have anything I can bring you that matches or increases the fee I just earned?" Was he really just asking for the job? This seemed too easy, almost like taking Gornoes from youngling.

"There are mynock and rathtar species that can be transported-"

"You expect me to collect mynocks and rathtars? Are you insane?"

Seezee hobbled to the datapad, scanning the data. "There is going to be much import on cargo originating in the Arkanis Sector."

He frowned. The Arkanis Sector? He'd just come from there. "What kind of cargo?"

"They would be more species of extinct creatures. Collectors discover disaster of many kinds and search out the dead."

"Do they have the cargo waiting?"

Seezee gingerly took the datapad from Floph and began manipulating pages of information.

Extinct creatures in the Arkanis Sector? There weren't many planets in that area that Floph could recall. Kour had been a remarkable visit, until that Sphere had been cause for so much anxiety and panic.

Lucky for him he had gotten out in time. He had made the jump to hyperspace and took the few hours it gave him in the restoration pod. Just what he had needed after all that anxiety. Floph rarely took a job anymore without use of the restoration pod.

Not after what happened at Denon II.

Floph shuddered. He still retained unease every time he passed by shipyards.

"It appears that there are several merchants that are in possession of extinct creatures," Seezee said holding the datapad for Floph to examine. "This cargo was found to be authentic and is ready for transport. You can pick up the cargo from this System, on the satellite Bahryn. Do you wish to accept this shipment transportation?"

Geonosis? He hadn't been to that system before. Pulling it up on his own datapad and skimming the important bits, the smile on Floph's face grew until he felt it reach his mandibles. "Yeah, that'll do great. Thanks Seezee." He turned and went in the direction of the corridor to his ship. "I'll contact you once I have the cargo and make my way back here. If all goes well, it shouldn't take more than a few rotations."

Seezee said nothing, and moved nowhere in the curator's office. It watched as the circular hatch closed behind Floph. Assigning affirmation on his datapad, CZ-8K8 reread the entry, as well as the warnings of predators on Bahryn, the Geonosian moon.