When the distressed whine of the sublight engine finally died down, minutes after he had cut to repulsorlifts to land the Honey, Omad was too relieved to make a song and dance about it. He turned to Sumatra: 'I guesss we should have got her repaired a while ago.' She crowed at this
'Woohoo flyboy, better get your temperature checked! That sounded dangerously close to admitting you were wrong.' She laughed, baring her impressive teeth.
'We,' Omad muttered under his breath. 'We decided not to service her.'
'No sweetheart, I believe that decision was yours. I never pretended to be a mechanic.' She gave another chortle which turned into a yawn as she stretched. She got up and peered out at the brown ferrocrete walls of the docking bay, sunlit in Halian's late afternoon. 'Well, I sure am glad to be on solid ground for a while.' She turned to leave the cockpit.
At that moment the Honey's comm showed an incoming call. Omad flicked open the line 'Freighter Yellowbird, Chad Chocoune speaking?' The reply came in the slightly odd timbre of a droid's voice.
'This is 2-1B –IL, the medical droid attached to the port facility. Lifeform readings show that one on your vessel is injured. Please allow me access for treatment.'
Omad whistled. 'Their sensors are that sophisticated? Just as well the compartments are shielded! Well, I'd better let it in.' He reached across to the comm button and held it down. 'Medical droid, you are cleared to enter.' The shield door of the docking bay opened and one of the distinctive 2-1B droids rolled in. Omad went out to lower the ship's ramp and welcome the droid. 'Greetings,' it said as it trundled onto the Honey, 'Where is the patient?'
'I'm here,' Sumatra's voice rang out from the lounge area. The droid followed Omad through and started unfolding diagnostic appendages in a kind of mechanical glee when it saw Sumatra. She held out the arm to it matter-of-factly and it was only a moment before the droid said 'It's only a flesh wound, although inexpertly treated. An hour in a bacta tank would heal it completely. That might also help with the enervation you will be feeling Madam,' and it looked at Sumatra.
'Sounds bliss,' the Devaronian said shortly, 'but I'd be much obliged if you'd just put a dressing on it and piss off.'
'Unable to comply,' the droid said. 'I must give patients the best possible treatment. Please come with me now; there is a bacta tank dedicated to the port. The treatment is free.'
'Come on Zamentha, why not?' Omad coaxed, 'I'm sure you'd feel a lot better.'
'Humph!' was her reply, but she got up anyway. The droid began to make its way out and she whispered Omad's ear 'Well, if it's free…' He called after her
'I'll see you back here, fighting fit, in a couple of hours.'
As the droid and its patient moved out of sight round the bulk of the ship, Omad allowed himself to laugh. 'A smuggler to the core – touchy, and always on the lookout for a bargain!' He walked down the ramp and onto the ferrocrete. The air smelled like all spaceports but he inhaled it deeply anyway; it was a welcome change from the recycled air on board ship. They hadn't stopped at any port for longer than one night for some months now; this lucrative deal with the Merim silk producers had kept them very busy. He rather thought it would be fun to be dirtside for a while, a kind of holiday for them. He wasn't unduly worried about delivering their cargo. It wasn't as if they had a tight schedule to stick to or anything – after all, they were smugglers and if their trading partners had forgotten that, then it was their own funeral. Omad grinned and stamped the ground, making a thud that resounded round the docking bay. 'Oh, yes, this could be very enjoyable indeed.'
As he was standing there a sound he recognised came over the blast walls at him: the sound of a Devish screaming in fury. 'Shit, Sumatra!' he swore and he sprinted out of the bay, palm blaster ready. When he reached the street outside he saw nothing unusual so he ran down to the bottom where there was a junction with two other streets. He couldn't see anything at all, of either Sumatra or a fight. He turned to a couple of guys who were sitting on the corner, playing some kind of gambling game. 'Did you see anything?' he demamded. 'A Devaronian female with a 2-1B droid came this way a moment ago – was there some kind of fight? I heard her scream.'
'Saw nothin',' the first guy said.
'Busy,' said the second, indicating the game.
'But you must have seen something or heard that scream. It didn't come out of nowhere!' Omad was tense with frustration and worry and the blaster was feeling worryingly good in his hand right now.
'Heard nothin',' said the first guy.
'Busy,' said the second. Omad left them to it and stomped back to Bay 21 intending to make some aggressive inquiries over the com.
As he reached the blast door, he noticed a small feline creature sitting against the wall. It looked like it might be a predator – for killing small vermin perhaps. Must be plenty for it to do round here, Omad thought. The port was rather shabby. It shouldn't be in the bay though. Omad was a firm believer in keeping animals and machines well apart. He kicked at it, without actually striking it, intending to scare it off. When that didn't work he nudged it with the toe of his boot and said 'Shoo!' That wasn't much of a success either; in fact the small thing got up and went further into the bay. 'Oh, sod it!' Omad exclaimed, 'you might as well stay.' 'Whatever you are,' he added as an afterthought. 'You sure don't look like anything I've seen before.'
'Well, unless you've been to Halian before, which I doubt, to be honest, you wouldn't have. We are the Krreeval, the native species of this planet.' Omad looked at the feline thing.
'You're the native species? Well, to be frank, it doesn't look like you're ruling your native planet now, so what happened?' This came out more agressively than he had intended and he felt guilty as soon as he had said it. Still, he was worried about Sumatra and talking to an insignificant rodent-killer just didn't seem like the best way forward right now. 'Rodent-killer?' the Krreeva said. Omad looked at the thing. He was pretty sure he hadn't said that out loud.
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A/N: Again, sorry it's quite short. Please R&R, Purple