Marco felt lost. He was unfamiliar with nearly all of the strange-looking fruits and vegetables on the vendor's table, and the various fillets of meat and small, whole dried animals hanging above it were alien and pungent in odor. He wrinkled his nose. "Does anybody know what we're looking at here?"
"It's all food, Diaz," Janna replied blankly, picking up a cured lizard carcass. "Can't always afford to be picky."
Marco held up a red-and-yellow colored vegetable from a bin on the table and examined it. "I'm not being picky, I just want to know what I'm looking at." The vegetable's skin was strangely slimy to the touch, coated with a thin, viscous fluid.
"Well, son, that is a sorriac," said the gotal seated behind the market table. "The skin saps out a mucus that contains a powerful muscle relaxer."
"Huh?"
As if on cue, the sorriac fell back onto the table as the muscles in Marco's fingers and hand went limp. He couldn't move his right hand at all. Janna and Tom snickered.
"Oh. This isn't permanent, is it?"
The gotal offered Marco a rag, which the boy accepted with his left hand and wiped the thin slime from his fingers. "It'll wear off in a couple hours."
"A couple hours?"
After a few days of camping out in the Takodanna wilderness, the crew of the Raventalon expended the last of their food supplies. Rather than resort to supply bars again, they ventured into the nearby village of Zakaras. Fortunately, thanks to King River, they had plenty of credits to purchase whatever they required.
"Hey, guys!" Star exclaimed as she bounded up beside them. "Check out what I found!" She held up a clear, unlabeled jar filled with a fine, violet-colored powder. "Powdered Lypersythe!"
"Which is...what?" Tom asked. Behind him, Marco was shaking his limp right hand, fruitlessly trying to restore feeling.
"A major ingredient in Mewnian cooking! You use it to make a dry rub for meat, or you can sprinkle it on just about anything, makes it delicious!"
Janna took a closer look at the jar. "Um, Star...that's not Lypersythe."
"Of course it is! What else would it be?"
"That's sugar seed dust."
Star's already excited eyes grew even larger. "Sounds delicious!"
"It's an illegal drug."
"...Oh." Star held the jar up to her face and jiggled the contents as Tom paid the food vendor for what he and Janna had selected. "I guess I'll go see if I can get my money back."
"Yeah...or we could not get into a firefight with a drug dealer after only being here for five days and just get rid of it."
The gotal behind the table perked up. "I'll take it off your hands, if you're just looking to...lose it."
Star was about to protest, but suddenly found the jar snatched out of her hands as Janna held it out to the the gotal. "Twenty credits."
The vendor eagerly tossed the requested credit chips back to Tom, who was not expecting to be playing catch and dropped most of them on the ground. Janna handed off the jar of illicit substance and the gotal quickly hid it out of sight beneath his table. Tom picked up their three grocery-laden packs and walked away without another word. Janna and Marco followed.
"Janna!" Star loudly whispered as they hurried out of the vendor's earshot.
"'Sup, girl?" Janna replied, as if she hadn't the slightest idea what Star was upset about.
"I can't believe you just sold that guy illegal drugs!"
"Don't look at me, you're the one who bought 'em."
"Only because I didn't know what it was!" Star raised an eyebrow. "Hang on...how did you know it was Sugar Seeds?"
"Tom and I smuggle Sugar Seeds for a regular customer. We were actually in the process of delivering a load to Coruscant when you called us in need of rescuing."
"And when she says 'delivering,' she really means, 'getting a fast one pulled on us,'" Tom quipped.
Janna flicked his ear.
The Mewni princess narrowed her eyes at her friends. "Have you ever-?"
"Heck, no!" Tom retorted.
"Don't be ridiculous, Star," Janna said. "I have far more important things to spend my money on than to waste it getting addicted to Sugar Seed dust."
Marco, still clutching his limp hand by the wrist, cut in. "Not to interrupt, but do we have everything we need now?"
"I'm good," Tom replied, already struggling under the weight of three loaded-down packs. Star and Marco each had a pack as well. Janna strolled along behind, not even remotely offering assistance.
The hike back to the Raventalon was not at all unpleasant. When they'd fled the hideout on Orto Plutonia, the speeder bike had been in the hanger, and they'd unfortunately been forced to leave it behind, so traveling back and forth to Zakaras had to be done the old fashioned way. Fortunately, the four teens were evidentially not the first to park their ship in the exact spot they'd landed for an extended period of time. There was a decent footpath worn into the forest floor leading directly to the village.
Marco watched as Star happily bounced along the footpath, watching colorful birds dart between the branches of the trees overhead. His best friend loved it on Takodana. She loved the quiet and peaceful woods, the pleasant sunshine, the local wildlife, and even the village of Zakaras. He wasn't sure he could remember the last time she was this happy.
And that concerned him deeply.
The inquisitor kept its eyes respectfully down-turned. That was typically the intelligent thing to do when being berated by your master.
"I am most disappointed in you, Inquisitor. I expected much more impressive results from someone of your...considerable skill level."
The inquisitor wanted to say, "I would have had a much better chance of succeeding if you hadn't reassigned all of my resources," but it decided that was probably not a good idea. "Forgive me, my Lord."
The hologram of Darth Sidious stared down at his compatriot. "I would assign a different inquisitor to the task, but the others are all currently otherwise occupied. As such, I shall grant you a chance to redeem your egregious failures to terminate two mere younglings."
The Emperor's words dripped with sarcasm. The inquisitor cringed as he emphasized the word failure. It had never been fearful of Sidious before, but it definitely was now. "Thank you, my Lord. I promise, I will not fail this time."
"Pray that you do not...or you will share their fate." The holo of the Emperor blinked off the instant the last syllable cleared his withered lips.
The inquisitor slowly rose to its feet, gingerly picking up its helmet from where it had been placed to the side of the holoprojector. It stared at the faceplate for a moment before carefully sliding the helmet over the large horns which protruded from the top of its head.
No mercy.
Security Officer Rosado jumped from his chair as the door slid open and the black-clad Jedi hunter stalked onto the bridge. "Hello, Inquisitor," he greeted, trying to sound cheerful but not too cheerful.
His partner forewent any pleasantries. "Do we have anything?"
Rosado nervously glanced at his console screen. "Uuuummmm...Not yet."
He braced himself for the inquisitor's reaction, but to his surprise, his partner turned on its heel and left the bridge. Rosado breathed a sigh of reliefand returned to his seat, resuming his task of reading Imperial Security Reports.
Star stepped back and extinguished her lightsaber. She and Marco had not practiced sword combat since before leaving Mewni, so they were taking a break from passing out from Force-Cleaving and having a few practice duels instead.
"What's wrong?" Marco asked.
"We've been fighting for, like, thirty minutes without either one of us gaining even a little bit of an advantage," Star said, her voice laced with fatigue. "And I'm thirsty."
"Oh." Marco let his hand slip from the activation plate and the azure blade of his lightsaber shrank back into the hilt. "Yeah, I could use a break, too."
Star slid her lightsaber back into her bag and took Marco's empty left hand. "Why don't we take a walk into the village? Get something to drink at the cantina? We haven't really had any alone time together since- in a while," she said quickly, correcting herself.
Since we were on Mewni, Marco thought, knowing what she meant. Some alone time might give me the opportunity to get her to open up. "That's true," he replied, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "Alright, let's take a walk."
They called out their intentions to Tom, who may or may not have heard them from where he was busily improving the fire pit, and headed toward the village.
The pair strolled along the forest path hand-in-hand, not really hurrying. While Star was enjoying the peaceful beauty of the woods, Marco was trying very hard to not appear to be staring at his best friend's face. There's no way she's legitimately this happy. He studied her features, fruitlessly searching for a tell. A twitch, a twinge, anything that might hint at a false facade of contentment. But Star was either very good at hiding her feelings, or she truly was fine. Maybe she really is happy. Would it be wrong of me to bring up Mewni...? He just couldn't bring himself to put a damper on his best friend's cheerful mood.
Star was not wrong when she said they hadn't had any alone time together since they left Mewni. They'd been practicing Force-Cleaving almost non-stop during their time on Orto Plutonia. This was the first time in months that the pair could simply enjoy a peaceful walk together, and Marco had to admit, he was enjoying it. He didn't want to ruin the moment.
He felt guilty.
A twenty minute walk brought them to Zakaras Village. Despite being located in a very pretty and peaceful setting, the tiny secluded town was not a very cheerful place. It was not a destination beings traveled to if they had any other choice. Zakaras was a hideout. Residents walked the streets with their heads down, only conversing when absolutely necessary to convey pertinent information. Some had bounties on their heads, some were targets of the Empire. Some very unlucky few were both. Normally, places like this were crime-ridden, dangerous hives of scum and villainy, but for whatever reason, the particular brand of beings Zakaras attracted were so worried about getting caught, most of them avoided confrontation at all costs.
The cantina was the largest building in town, less like a bar and more like a hostel with a restaurant on the ground floor that also just so happened to serve alcohol. It could not come close to matching the homey, welcoming atmosphere of Maz's castle, but the middle-aged Twi'lek who operated the place was a stickler for tidiness, so at the very least the place was clean.
When the door slid open, every patron in the cantina abruptly looked up from their drinks. Some were already rising from their chairs and reaching for their holsters. Star and Marco froze and stared back, and after a moment, everyone inside resumed their seats and went back to their own business, not paying the two teenagers any mind. In the two weeks the gang had been on Takodana, they had learned that this was standard operating procedure in Zakaras. When you entered a public building, everyone reacted as if whoever was hunting them had just shown up ready to blow them away. As long as you yourself did not also draw a weapon and just stood still long enough to be deemed non-threatening, everyone would quickly resume ignoring you.
With the coast now clear, Star and Marco made their way up to the bar. The green-skinned Twi-lek man who ran the place watched as they took their places on a pair of stools at the far end of the counter. He recognized them from their previous visits. There weren't many younglings in Zakaras, so the pair weren't easily forgotten. "What can I get for you two?" he asked, his voice raspy from decades of yelling at rambunctious customers who broke his strict rules.
"I'll have some Moogan Tea, please," Marco requested politely.
"Can I have one too, but a fizzy one?" Star added. The Twi'lek nodded. "Anything look good on the menu today?"
"Cook just put a big pot of swamp rat stew on. One of his better dishes. Be ready in a few minutes."
Star looked at her companion. "Wanna share one?"
"Sure. I'm not real hungry, but I could eat a few spoonfuls," Marco said.
Star turned back to the Twi'lek. "We'll have a big bowl of that, and two spoons, please."
He nodded again. "Back in a sec." And he disappeared through the doorway behind the counter into the kitchen.
When he had gone, the young couple's eyes met. Star smiled lovingly at her best friend, gazing with reverence and affection.
Despite her contented expression, Marco couldn't hold it inside any longer. He had to ask. "Are you doing okay, Star?"
"I'm doing great," she replied, settling her hand atop his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I mean, yeah, we're taking a little longer than I would have liked to get back to Mewni, but we gotta make sure we're ready, and I don't think we are yet, and I just have to accept that."
Okay, who is this? Star is never this reasonable. "You're sure?"
She nodded. "Positive."
Marco opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the cantina's door sliding open distracted him. Just as when the teens had entered, the other patrons reacted, many of them standing and reaching for their blasters. Star turned and followed Marco's gaze as he joined in seeing who had arrived.
Her blood turned to ice.
She quickly turned back to the counter as the rest of the patrons relaxed and the newcomer entered. "Oh no oh no oh no oh nooo."
Marco frowned. "What's wrong?"
"I know that guy," Star said quietly. "We should go." She started to slide off of the stool, but had barely moved before she felt the presence of a very muscular being noisily taking a spot on the vacant stool beside her. She froze, not daring to face him, nervously gripping Marco's hand.
Marco glanced at the new arrival in his peripheral vision. It was a Septarian, a particularly tall and muscular one with olive green skin. His cape partially obscured a bulky cybernetic left arm, and when he shifted slightly, a glint of light reflected off of the violet lens of the photoreceptor that replaced his left eye. The reptilian's face bore a constant scowl, revealing a mouthful of wicked-looking teeth.
In short, it was one of the most intimidating beings Marco had ever seen.
The Twi'lek returned, carrying two identical bottles, one with a green label which he set down in front of Marco, and a blue one which he gave to Star. "Just a few minutes on that stew," he told them.
"Hey, tailhead." The words came from the Septarian's mouth as a low growl.
The Twi'lek turned to him. He was used to dealing with rude customers, especially ones that addressed him with that derogatory term. He smiled kindly at the lizard which towered over him even while seated and addressed him in a sarcastically apologetic tone. "Good afternoon, sir. My sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting. What can I get for you this fine day?"
"Meat. Any kind. Plenty of it. And the strongest alcohol you got," the Septarian snarled.
"Absolutely, sir. Right away." And he made a big show of hurrying into the kitchen.
The lizard stood up. "Gotta use the 'fresher," he muttered to no one in particular. As he turned, his eyes landed on Star. He couldn't see any of her facial details, but he could make out the heart adorning her left cheek. Something about it sparked a memory. "Do I know you?" he growled.
Star turned slightly toward him to reply, not wanting to come across as rude. She pulled a lock of her blonde hair alongside her face, casually stroking it and using it to obscure her features. "Uh, nope! Don't recall ever meeting you!"
The Septarian bent his knees slightly for a closer look. "You look very, very familiar."
"You don't. And I think I'd remember meeting someone as big and muscular as you," she added, hoping his ego would appreciate the flattery.
"Mm...yeah, I bet. Never mind." And he stalked off toward the end of the room where the refresher awaited him.
When he was out of earshot, Star whispered to Marco. "That's the bounty hunter that tried to assassinate my parents!"
"What?!"
"Yeah. I think he recognized me." Star watched him cross the room, his hulking form knocking customers off their stools as he passed. At one point, his cape caught on a light-skinned Zabrak's horns and he had to stop and roughly free his cape, knocking the hapless Zabrak to the floor. "I've never seen him in person before, but I've seen his picture. His name is Rasticore." By this point, the big Septarian had made it across the room and was about to enter the refresher. "As soon as he goes in, let's get out of here."
"Right behind you." Marco quickly tossed a few credit chips up on the counter to pay for their drinks. When Rasticore disappeared through the refresher door, the teenagers stood up and began to make their way to the exit.
They didn't make it.
Star glanced back over her shoulder just to make sure they were safe at the same moment that Rasticore, having just exited the refresher, pulled the trigger on his blaster rifle. "Marco, look out!" She tackled her best friend to the floor behind a nearby table as the blaster bolt streaked over their heads.
"I think he remembered where he knew you from," Marco quipped.
Star instinctively reached for her bag to retrieve her lightsaber, but Marco grabbed her arm to stop her. "No! We don't want to reveal ourselves as Jedi to everyone else in here!" he hissed.
"Oh, right."
Meanwhile, the cantina had erupted into chaos. Many were making a mad dash for the exit, but some had drawn their blasters and were returning firing at Rasticore. His large, muscular figure made for a relatively easy target, and a few shots found their marks, but did little more than singe the Septarian's thick skin. Holding the scope of his blaster rifle to his cybernetic eye, Rasticore flicked the setting switch to stun and incapacitated his antagonists with a series of quick and precise shots. Then, not spying Star anywhere, quickly sniped the door controls, effectively sealing the door closed and trapping half a dozen helpless patrons inside, all of whom quickly dove for cover.
"Where are you, Princess?" Rasticore growled. "I know you're in here. Show yourself!"
Star and Marco locked eyes, silently pleading with the other for a plan. A loud Whump! above them alerted them to danger, and they looked up to find that Rasticore had jumped up upon the table they were sheltered behind, his long blaster rifle pointed at Star. The Septarian grinned evilly. "Hello."
Aided by the Force, Star pushed off the floor and dove out of the way before the laser could strike her. She tucked and rolled forward, ending right side up and taking a defensive stance against the bounty hunter.
A frustrated grunt wrenched itself from Rasticore's throat. "You're fast."
A flash of red appeared behind the Septarian, waving from behind the table on which he stood. Star had not even realized that Marco was not beside her, but she could tell her companion had a plan. And she was the distraction. I can do that. With a surge of confidence, she taunted, "Faster than you!"
"We'll see." He took aim and pulled the trigger. Star took a half-step to the left, out of the laser's path. Rasticore fired again, and Star stepped to the right. The bounty hunter fired twice more in rapid succession, placing his shots right over both of Star's shoulders, hoping to trick her into stepping into the laser's path. But, with the Force as her ally, Star could not be fooled so easily. Rasticore's plan was visible to her mind before he even pulled the trigger. She stood perfectly still, and the shots tore harmlessly past.
Rasticore lowered the sight from his eye. "What the-?"
"HIIII-YA!" Marco jumped up from behind the table, letting loose a powerful kick from his cybernetic leg. The heel of his boot connected with Rasticore's metal arm with a tremendous CLONG! and the bounty hunter was sent tumbling from the table top, his blaster rifle flying from his grip. He rolled as he hit the floor, ending up on his back. He slowly sat up, glaring at Marco.
"Why you little-" In one smooth, quick motion, Rasticore's hand drew up from the floor, slipped the sleek LL-30 blaster pistol from the holster at his waist, aimed, and fired several shots at Marco.
The young Padawan did not evade the blaster fire as gracefully as Star, though he did so just as effectively. He crashed back down to the floor behind the table as the lasers tore over his head.
Now Star was the one with the element of surprise. As Rasticore pushed himself back to his feet, she snatched up a circular metal drink tray from a table behind her. She let it fly with a flick of her wrist, accelerating it toward Rasticore's head with a push from the Force. The tray noisily ricocheted off of Rasticore's cranium, and the bounty hunter grunted in both pain and frustration. He whirled around and squeezed off several more shots at Star, who ran toward the counter and vaulted over it for cover.
Rasticore stalked hurriedly back to the counter in pursuit, knocking over chairs and drink vessels in his path. But as he leaned over the counter to search for his target, he froze as he suddenly felt the cold steel of a gun barrel press against his temple. Slowly turning his head, Rasticore found himself staring into the stern, cold eyes of the old Twi'lek man, his finger shadowing the trigger of the long, double barrel slug thrower pressed to the bounty hunter's head.
"I'm surprised at you, Rasticore. You know the code as well as anyone in this town. No hunting in the valley. Especially, in my place."
"But-"
"No excuses, lizard boy. There's no 'business' conducted in Zakaras unless you're intending to leave permanently. Last I checked, your chain code is still in the Imperial criminal database. You wouldn't want to be banished from our little hideaway, now would you?"
"Banished?" Star gasped, jumping to her feet behind the counter. "That's it?!"
Marco appeared from his cover. "Yeah! He just tried to kill us!"
But the teens' objections fell on deaf ears.
"I believe you owe me for the damage to my place," the Twi'lek went on.
Rasticore emitted a soft, annoyed growl as he holstered his pistol. "Fine. Name your penance."
The Twi'lek slowly lowered his slug thrower. "After you clean up the mess you made, you can work off the cost of the damages washing dishes." He punctuated his sentence by striking the stock of his gun against the wood floor. "Get to work. There's a dust pan and broom in the storage room."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." And the Septarian grumpily shuffled away toward the back room, leaving a very confused Star and Marco with the cantina's owner. Most of the patrons who hadn't managed to flee before the exit was sealed shut were calmly returning to their tables. Those that weren't checked on the beings who had returned fire at Rasticore and been stunned, moving them to a safe location, propping them up against the exterior walls.
Star was beside herself. "Pardon me, sir," she said to the old Twi'lek, "I don't mean to be rude, especially since you just saved us, but...what the heck, man?! That lizard guy just tried to murder us, and the only thing you're gonna do about it is make him wash dishes?!"
The Twi'lek set his weapon down across the counter as he sank slowly onto a stool. "What would you like me to do?" he asked calmly.
"I don't know...call the authorities? Have him arrested for attempted murder?"
"There are no authorities in Zakaras."
"Then-"
"Contact intergalactic authorities? And what? Have Imperial stormtroopers show up here?"
Star rubbed her arm and looked away bashfully. "I guess not..."
The Twi'lek sighed. "You two seem like good kids, and I know you're new here. You don't know the ways yet." He paused, slowly exhaling a deep breath. "There is no law in Zakaras. As far as most of the galaxy knows, this valley doesn't exist. We come here to hide, and for our village to remain a secret, we follow the code. No one who takes refuge here may expose any other refugee or take part in any conduct that places Zakaras at risk of being discovered. Those who do are banished from the village, and while that may not sound like a harsh penalty, no one here wants to leave the valley and be made vulnerable to the outside world...where scanners and tracking fobs can find them."
"Sooooooo...he tried to kill us," Star said. "Why aren't you banishing him?"
The Twi'lek shrugged. "Because he failed."
At that moment, the Septarian emerged from the kitchen carrying a dust pan and broom that were so tiny in comparison to the huge lizard's hands that he held each implement between two fingers. "Besides, he's got a punishment to serve." The Twi'lek flashed the kids a grin. "Don't worry about ol' Rasticore. He won't bother you again. He doesn't want to get thrown out of here anymore than anyone else in Zakaras. He wouldn't dare risk it."
Star and Marco swiveled around to watch Rasticore set to work on cleaning up the room. He grumbled and groaned in frustration as he swept up a spilled bowl of nuts, fumbling with the dust pan that was far too small for his hands. When he'd finally gathered up every last nut, he set down the dust pan to right a toppled chair and accidentally flipped the dust pan over when he set the chair down. The nuts scattered across the floorboards again, and the Septarian groaned in frustration. The Padawans exchanged a nervous glance.
"Rasticore managed to escape from an Imperial prison," the Twi'lek explained. "If there's one thing the Imps hate...you know, besides Jedi and political detractors...it's beings who manage to get away from them. Trust me," he said with a smirk. "You have no reason to fear."
Star looked back at Rasticore again, still not fully trusting the words of the cantina owner. "Yeahhh, even so...I think we'll take those drinks and soup to go."