"I'll give you ten thousand credits for that ship," the woman in the grey jumpsuit said. She had shoulder length brown hair, and blaster on her hip. The ship she was referring to was a Corellian HLAF-500 that looked ready for a junkyard.
"Ten thousand?" whined the owner of the lot. "You will rob an old man of his only way of living? You cannot be serious."
"I'm very serious. That's my final offer."
"Surely someone as well off as yourself could afford a hundred thousand credits for that beautiful ship?"
"I told you my final offer. That's it." With that she turned and walked away. Will I ever get off this wormhole of a planet though Anya Dariss. It's been three months since I've been stranded on here, and I've only got myself a few more credits. Oh well. She walked into a bar, handed the bartender a coin, and took her drink. Nearby she heard a couple of traders talking amongst themselves.
"Did you hear the size of the bounty being placed Garjlah's head?"
"No, how much is it?"
"One million dekteri! For Garjlah! Think of it!"
"One million?" one of the traders whistled. "Who has pockets that size other than the Emperor?"
"Elvon Drask. He's a renowned politician who has pockets that never empty. He can make credits out of thin air they say."
"What a bunch of hogwash," Anya interjected.
The three traders glared at her. "Hey, you got a problem with that missy?"
"No one makes credits out of thin air. And don't call me missy, or you'll regret it," she responded, eyes flashing.
"I'm just repeating what others say," the first trader muttered under his breath. Then he spoke normally again. "But, I betcha you couldn't find the guy. They say," and here he looked around, "they say he has a hiding spot on Nal Hutta. No one can come back alive if the person they're looking for is under the care of the Hutts."
"Oh yeah?" retorted Anya. "You think I can't out-think a bunch of Hutts? Ha!"
"Fine," said the second trader rolling his eyes. "Prove it then. I betcha ten thousand credits you won't come back from Nal Hutta alive."
"It's a deal," she said, and stalked out of the room.
Anya Dariss made her way towards the ship yard, and quickly located the old geizer.
"Listen up, and listen closely. I'm not going to repeat myself. I'll give you ten thousand for that HLAF,-500 over there now, and pay you another three thousand when I return. Deal?"
"But . . ."
"That's the only way you'll get an offer out of me," she said warningly.
"Fine," he mumbled. "But I need a name to put on the papers."
Dariss thought for a moment, and then responded. "Taryn. Taryn Holm."
Several hours later, after discovering where Elvon Drask lived, and ensuring that the hyperdrive really did work on the ship, she was in hyperspace. It was the first time in three months she could truly relax, and after a bit of programming so it would wake her up before the ship left hyperspace, she fell asleep.
Picking up the data pad she ran back down the hall towards the family's yacht. She had to get there before they did. Brushing her braid from her face again, Anya Dariss slowed as she reached the door to the hangar. There she heard voices.
"She's not here. Guess she's in one of the sub-corridors."
"Why didn't you check there first?"
"I didn't want to have take off you numbskull!"
"Six-year-old girls can't fly a ship."
"How do you know this one can't?"
"How do you know she can? If you've made it so she could have escaped . . . you're in trouble with the boss."
"Shut up, we gotta find that girl."
Anya waited until the voices disappeared down the corridor, and entered the hangar bay. She headed over towards her family's ship, but saw that they had posted a guard over it. Turning away, she headed for another hall. She had to get out of here. As she headed out onto the surface of Corellia, she ducked down a side street and turned onto a back alley. She didn't know where she was going to go, but she needed to get away. As she turned onto another street, she was grabbed by two large men.
"Get your hands off of me!" she screamed. "I didn't do anything!"
"Hey now missy, don't you worry about this. No harm's gonna come to you."
"What are you doing to me? Leave me alone!" But try as she might, her struggles yielded nothing.
"Perfect little kid to use for our operation, eh, Cramer?"
"Sure is. But she's got a temper, that may cause a problem."
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Anya protested.
"Hey missy, you cut the chatter, or I'll be forced to do it for you. Come on Travis, let's get out of here."
Travis and Cramer pulled her down another side alley and into a building, and then under the surface of Corellia, where dangerous operations were located. It didn't take to long for Anya to find out that she had been kidnapped by smugglers. They left her alone most of the night, or was it day? You couldn't tell that sort of stuff from this dingy place. After she woke up Cramer headed over.
"Hey missy, geddup. You're gonna be doin' some work today for me an' Travis. Here, you take this data pad," he said shoving it into her hands. "Now, I've got me some spies all around this place. So, don't you try any funny stuff on me. What you're gonna do is this, an' you better be listenin' carefully, you're gonna take that there data padd, and bring it into Ledresse's. You know where that is, right? Good. There'll be a guy there in a pair of green boots. You hand it to him and you say these words. 'Corellian fighters prefer wide space lanes.' Then you walk out and come back here. Simple enough. Now get going."
Anya woke up with a start, to hear some annoying beeping going on. She slammed her fist on the control panel and the beeping stopped. In half an hour she'd be coming out of hyperspace.
