Phorna Prime loomed large in the sky as D'nia watched the system's white sun crest over the horizon. The umbra that separated Phorna Prime's roiling day side from it's night side stood nearly perpendicular to the horizon, bisecting the gas giant. But the planet was massive, nearly a brown dwarf, and the night side seethed with a sullen light of it's own. It cast an eerie pall over the otherwise crystaline dawn.
It was a Red Year on D'nia's homeworld. Once every seven years the two planets would draw close and the gas giant would hang in the pristine sky of Phorna Minoris like an angry red carbuncle. For three seasons it would bathe it's sibling in inky crimson light that pulls water from the oceans into the air, causing a planet-wide torrent as Phorna Prime grows distant and releases it's grip.
D'nia eased off the throttle as her hover-skiff entered the bazaar of Hon Manowa. The stilted permanent structures of the city lacked the capacity to serve the sudden influx of miners and prospectors that had flocked to the system, so a sizeable district of prefab buildings and temporary stalls had grown like a fungus between it and the massive spaceport. D'nia found an empty space along the main thoroughfare and parked her skiff. She eyed the transport that was arcing toward the landing platforms as she set up her stall.
Welcome to Phorna Minoris. Local time is 06:55. All passengers, please remain in your seats as we prepare to dock.
Weram pressed on P-0'S optics sensor, waking it from standby mode. P-0 scanned it's surroundings then immediately dropped to the floor, clawing at it's feet.
"Stopstopstopstop! Stoooop!" Weram whispered. "It's supposed to be there!"
P-0 regarded her inquisitively.
"It's insulating foam," she said, "to help you stay quiet."
P-0 whirred and beeped insolently.
"Oh, right, because you were sooo stealthy on your last mission," Weram said, patting her hands together in mock-applause.
P-0 hung it's head and turned away, beeping sadly.
"Ok, fine. I guess you did still accomplish the mission," Weram said.
P-0 perked up, dancing toward it's pink-skinned master.
Weram raised a finger, "But it was in spite of all the noise you made. You could have gotten us caught! The foam stays, end of story."
P-0 nodded, still shifting it's weight from one foot to the other.
"Good." Weram said, satisfied the matter was settled. "Now, you remember that crate full of explosives?"
P-0 nodded again, more eagerly this time.
"Great! Here's what you're gonna do..."
D'nia watched the crowd as it emerged from the spaceport complex into the bazaar. The newly discovered spice vein on Phorna drew a great deal of people looking for work, either with the mining company extracting the spice or with the pharmacological corporation refining it. Uniformed representatives from both employers drew the migrants off one by one, forming two milling crowds separate from the main swarm.
The bulk of migrants, however, were prospectors. After all, one new spice vein could mean more, right? These people were gamblers, willing to bet the promise of steady work, their personal savings, sometimes even their lives on the slim hope that they might find a fortune in the ground of an alien world.
It was with these daring souls that D'nia saw opportunity.
"Hey, heading out right away?" D'nia called to a prospector walking by himself.
"That's right," replied a scarred Dresselian. "Not gonna let this rabble beat me to the big haul!"
"You need a guide then," she said matter-of-factly.
The prospector's eyes widened. "Will I now?"
D'nia nodded solemnly. "Frontier is no place for a lone prospector."
The Dresselian prospector guffawed. "And who is it that's guiding you?"
"I also offer tracking chits for sale," D'nia said pleasantly through gritted teeth. She held up the chit so the prospector could see.
"So you can find me and come to my rescue, brave hero?" He said cheekily.
"Heroine," D'nia corrected, bristling "And no, it's so I can retrieve your remains from whatever lorkrok nest you end up in."
The prospector gave D'nia a dark look and stormed off.
Auspicious beginning D'nia chided herself. She pocketed the chit and rubbed her temples. At some point she was going to need to think of a way to sell the tracking chits without driving off her customers. She was considering how to allude to gruesome death more tactfully when her reverie was interrupted.
Two uniformed Imperials were shouting their way through the crowd. D'nia realized the Imperials were heading straight for her when something crashed into her.
D'nia had just begun to right herself when she caught sight of a dome-headed bipedal droid trying to crawl under her skiff.
"Hey!" D'nia cried. She reached for the droid but a large boot appeared in front of her face. The man it belonged to stooped, bracing himself on D'nia's skiff with one thick-fingered hand while grasping the squirming droid with the other.
D'nia instantly bolted upright, fury storming over her face.
"Thought I told you not to touch my skiff again, Abero!"
Abero Kaine dusted himself off as he stood. He stroked his square jaw thoughtfully then grinned.
"And I remember it wasn't my fault. Those stabilizers were coming off. I can't help that you fly a nerf patty instead of a proper speeder."
Abero smiled roguishly, "besides, Nia, didn't figure you were the type to harbor fugitives." He waggled the struggling droid at her.
In lieu of a retort, D'nia simply pressed the droid's optics sensor, snapping it closed onto Abero's hand.
The big man yowled, sputtering curses. He had just extracted his fingers from the droid when the Imperial agents arrived.
"Give us that thieving droid at once!" The Imperial panted, still heaving from their pursuit.
"Fear not, officers," Abero said, once again debonair. "Abero Kaine, gentleman adventurer, has captured your droid."
The agents started forward when Abero continued. "Oh, no need for accolades," he said as he began to wave his other hand vaguely, eyes twinkling, "credits will do fine."
A second agent, obviously in charge, stepped forward. "We care nothing for this... thing. Where are the det-" he trailed off. "The er, supplies it's stolen?"
Abero sputtered for a few seconds, frustrated by the sudden reversal of fortune when D'nia interjected.
"Are you sure this is the droid you're looking for? I didn't see him carrying anything when he crashed into me."
The Imperials seemed suddenly less sure of themselves. "Are we sure this is the droid we're looking for, captain?" the junior officer repeated tonelessly. The captain wavered, a reply caught in his mouth.
"There are several models of these DUM series droids. Maybe it was a different one?" D'nia suggested.
At this the captain snapped back to attention. "I believe you're right, citizen." He turned. "Corporal, gather a scanning crew and see if you can locate our missing explo- that is to say, our missing supplies. I'm returning to base to review surveillance."
The Imperials rushed back the way they had come as a young woman burst through the crowd, panting. "Found you!" she wheezed.
The droid stirred at the young woman's voice, leaping suddenly out of Abero's hands to race to it's master's side. Weram pulled her hood aside as she crouched down to fuss over her droid.
Abero stared open-mouthed at the sight of the young woman. He shook himself and started toward her wearing his most dashing smile. "So it's your droid, huh? You're lucky I was here to rescue it from those Imperials."
"Oh, is that how it happened?" D'nia erupted, incredulous.
Abero waved her off dismissively, already warming to his best subject, himself. "You know, miss-"
"Weram," the young woman supplied, offering a hand in greeting.
"Miss Weram," he continued as he took her hand in his, "the Phornan frontier can be a dangerous place for offworlders. Guess you're doubly lucky that Abero Kaine, gentleman adventurer, is available to escort you."
D'nia suppressed her gag reflex as the young lady beamed at Abero. She couldn't believe the girl was buying this, surely no one was that gullible.
"Hey, Weram, right?" D'nia called.
Weram turned to D'nia and nodded affirmation.
"Take this with you," D'nia said, tossing Weram the tracking chit. "For, uhh, luck."
"I thought I was doubly lucky already," Weram gestured to her new companion, eyes glinting mischievously.
D'nia smiled, perhaps there was hope for her after all. Still.
"A little more luck can't hurt."
After they were out of sight, D'nia went about checking her skiff. Wouldn't do to find out it had been damaged by the droid or that rancor-fisted oaf while she was flying it. She bent low to inspect the hull of her craft when she spotted them.
Gleaming in the early morning light were over a dozen thermal detonators.
Stamped with the insignia of the Empire.
