Extravagance was nearly a badge of honor for the Neimoidians, credits the measure of a being's success. This was the way his mother had raised him. This was the way of his people.
Though the lighting had been set to dim, Loon's quarters still held a bright glow to them due to the reflection of the near overwhelming presence of gold within the room. What items in the room that were not gold were either plated gold or made of something equally as valuable. Finely woven rugs upon the floor, paintings and tapestries hundreds of years older than he upon the wall, and furniture created by the finest craftsmen known. This was hardly the scene one would find on a Mercenary ship, and thanks to his careful precautions few actually saw it.
Security, though, to this extent almost always assured loneliness.
Loon leaned back upon the stack of plush pillows on the corner of his bed, now wearing only his under robes, surrounded by files, datapads and sheets of flimsiplast from some figures he had been going over. But these were not his focus now. In his hand, he toyed with an ovaloid holoprojector, rolling it between his fingers. In his mind he debated whether to activate it or not, to view the images within as he did on occasion when he got into a sullen mood. The past was not a subject he much liked to dwell on.
There were always chances for exceptions to that rule, though.
Pressing firmly onto a small knob on the orb's face, something inside hummed to life in the silence, beams of light arcing out from its sides and morphing together into a seemingly solid image of three beings overtop of it. A family. A smile, ever so slight, crossed Loon's face as he scanned the scene, watching his father, the Duros Fellen Danar, his mother, the Neimoidian Loor Danar, and his own diminutive form at age six. This was a bittersweet time in his life, a time of conflict on all sides.
Neither by Neimoidian society nor that of the Duros was he ever truly accepted, being a hybrid of the two species. To the former he was merely a worm milking off the good name of the species for his own glorification; to the latter a tainted being who possessed foolish 'inner qualities' that ran sometimes contrary to their way of life. Compassion, for one. Had he been wholly Neimoidian, compassion would have cost him his life early in the hive. This was a fact his mother had often reminded him of. She had bred him on the philosophy that in life you must win by whatever means necessary. Whatever means. The strong will live and the weak will die. The winner will take the spoils and the loser would be nothing more than dust in the wind.
His father, though, spoke much to the contrary. While he encouraged his son to do his best and to look towards victory, he told him to keep hold of that compassion within him. Many things in this galaxy can be bought and sold at the drop of a few credits, Fellen Danar once said, but if you lose your honor and the compassionate soul within you, no sum of credits will ever be able to buy it back.
These two philosophies brought his parents into conflict many times, and in fact their differing points of view left them almost constantly in argument from his childhood and even until today. It sometimes seemed beyond him how the two of them could possibly love each other always being in such a state, yet still their marriage somehow remained strong.
Loon glanced up and scanned the elegant and costly decorations that dotted his room. Money, possessions… he had acquired these things in the pursuit of happiness, trying to discover some form of pleasure in his own life. Or perhaps it was his mother he sought to please. While his father's love was most assured, there was always the sinking suspicion that his mother would never truly be proud of him unless he was a success. That's what made the choice to join up with Marikk so hard. He threw away a great deal of his success in order to help his cousin. A fool's errand.
Another button pressed upon the projector's surface and the image dissolved momentarily before being replaced by another. This time it was an image of two, Marikk and himself, ages 10 and 14. Related by their fathers, Marikk had spent much time with his family during the summers and for a few years in their older teen years. His cousin's parents had passed on when he was very young, leaving him alone in the galaxy and passing from one relative's household to another until he finally left to blaze his own trails.
Loon smirked again, remembering their times as children. His cousin often wanted to go out on some 'adventure' or another, wherever he could get into mischief around their home of Neimoidia. He, however, was too proper to be running around like a savage all day. There were studies to attend to; work to be done. Despite one refusal after another, Marikk did not lose spirit and kept on asking anyway, in hopes that his big cousin would come join him in play.
His hopes, though, were not in vain as there was finally one adventure he had decided to join in on. In his early twenties, Marikk left their home to find freedom, freedom from the strict rules his adopted mother tried to force upon him. In his travels, by some circumstance or another, his cousin found himself working in the underworld as a pilot and bodyguard for various gangsters, but within recent years broke away from that past life and went to start up what was now Marikk's Mercs.
It was indeed the much maligned trait of compassion that had convinced him to join his cousin. Having left his firm on Muunilist, he helped to front the money to buy a ship for this little venture, the Nova Hound, and agreed to take care of their new business's finances with the same ferocity he had done in public work. For this move his mother scowled upon him, but his father gave only a knowing smile and a reaffirming glimmer in his eye.
That seemed to make it all worth it, though. The joy of his cousin and the pride of his father.
Switching off the small projector, he dropped it down to his side and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps the others had been right when they said he should pay Marikk a little more respect and care. Perhaps there was more to all this than money.
Then again, where would they be now without credits?
"Well well, so these are the beings with whom the professor has taken refuge," muttered Zuckuss under his breath, just loud enough for his partner.
"These beings seem surprisingly unprepared for either mercenaries or bodyguards. The apprehending of Ardina should proceed with little trouble."
Marikk seemed to wrinkle his brow at that comment as he made the march forward, hands in the air, and stopped about an arm's length from the two. "I'll admit, you got the drop on us, but like we were really expecting Bounty Hunters on our trail this soon. It does seem awfully fast for the Imps to get you all after us since we left Brentaal." Giving no response, the Gand frisked him over quickly and tossed away Marikk's sidearm.
"Now then, Duro, you'll be taking Zuckuss and 4-Lom to Professor Ardina immediately, if you value your being."
"What? So quickly? You haven't even introduced yourselves properly. My my, the art of conversation really is dy- -." Though he had tried to stall for time, it would have seemed the hunters were in no mood for games as the barrel of 4-LOM's concussion rifle found its place a few centimeters from his chest.
In a tone that was eerily unnatural, the droid lowered its voice and seemed to amplify its volume so that the sound sent a chill down Marikk's spine, though he did his best to keep his composure before the enemy. "The professor, now!"
"Alright, alright. No need to get testy." Turning around slowly and placing his arms on his head, the Duros slowly began to lead them down the corridor towards the ship when he paused suddenly and turned back to face them as a rumbling began to sound in the distance. "One thing, though. How fast do you think a roughly 300 pound Vurk can run?"
There was the sound of an exasperated sigh and what could have almost been a chuckle from underneath his helmet as Zuckuss placed a hand on his shaking head. "What kind of stupid question is that?"
"Oh, it's not stupid at all. Quite relevant to the situation actually."
The distant rumbling grew closer so that Zuckuss now picked up on the noise as the deck plates began to rattle. The Gand and Droid both turned slowly, a reluctance in their motion, as the over two meter tall Dormanin came barreling down the pathway, arms outstretched to his side as he knocked both into the air and off their feet. Marikk shuffled out of the way as the Vurk continued on, snatched up Craeldo, net and all, and made his way into the ship. A few seconds later the white chassised Leda came scuttling along after, planted a swift kick in 4-LOM's side and followed quickly behind her friend.
A smirk upon his face, Marikk bent down and snatched up his blaster, watching the two hunters briefly before leaving himself and sealing the airlock behind him. "So sorry, boys, but don't say I didn't try to warn you."
Abras worked at frenzied pace on the various control panels across the main chamber of the bridge, prepping the ship and getting the engines ready for take-off at the captain's request. An incoming cry of protest came from Chandrila station as he eased the Nova Hound away from the station, accidentally knocking down a few manipulator arms from the ceiling of the repair bay as he flew the ship out into open space. By the word he had gotten from Marikk, bounty hunters were on their tail and they had to set course for Corellia earlier than schedule, even before they could pay their dues at the station. That would have to be taken care of at another time.
Wiping a gloss of sweat from his forehead and dragging his hand through chestnut hair, the young human moved quickly from the pilot's station over to Sillek's forward tactical console and raised the ship's shields before returning to his previous position. Just then, something at one of the consoles began to give off a constant beeping. It was not long before he discovered that the ship's sensors had picked up an incoming craft about to overtake them. The computer soon identified it as the Surronian Conqueror assault ship Void Prowler. The hunters were already upon them.
"Void-sucking mynocks!"
In a moment of desperation, he reached up on the controls and pulled his fingers down on series of buttons and then pressed with all his strength on a lever below them. This seemed to send the ship into an acceleration boost that kept them at a safe, yet still too close for comfort, distance from their pursuers. Their old ship might not be able to keep up the pace for too long in its current condition, but just as long as it held together long enough for him to enter the coordinates into the Nav computer to make the jump to hyperspace.
The sudden shift of the ship's position caught off guard Professor Ardina as he sat on his bed against the corner of the room as he had earlier. There was an ill sensation that seemed to grasp his stomach at the pace and lack of grace with which they exited the repair bay that confirmed his fears that finally his pursuers must have caught up to him. As much as he despised Chandrila, as many Alderaanians who had survived the destruction of their home did, harboring jealousy at the Empire's seeming non-interference with the planet, he did not want to see it go so soon knowing the dangers that soon awaited them.
Turning his gaze from the stars, he watched the ever present wooden box that sat upon his lap and thought back on all the trouble it had caused since he discovered it. Such a discovery would have gained him great praise from his peers, but now it seemed only to be a dark pestilence, causing despair and death to all those who seemed to cross its path.
The sound of something shuffling in front of his door broke the professor's concentration as he sat there and held his breath, listening to whomever it was working outside. Constantin's nerves were set on edge as the seconds ticked by slowly and he had still not released his breath. Then, in the culmination of his fears, the doors slid open and blinding light poured in on him as he tried to make out the silhouette that stood motionless in the doorway.
"C…Captain Marikk? Is that you?"
"I'm sorry, professor," came a woman's voice, smooth yet deathly serious, "but no such luck."
The figure stepped forward slowly, methodically, as she motioned with her hand at her side and the doors closed behind her. She removed her hood and revealed the face of the one who now confronted him. Had this been any other situation, the sight of such a face would have put him at ease, but something about the situation… something about her… caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.
"Who are you?" he stammered, shrinking further into the corner and curling up to protect the box. "What do you want with me?"
"I want what you're hiding."
"Hiding…I… I'm hiding nothing." As her leather enrobed hand reached out towards him, Ardina leapt to his feet and ran to the opposite side of the room, in front of the 'fresher as he watched her approach and frantically felt behind him to try and open the door.
"Yeah, that's really convincing. Now give me the box."
Finally the fresher door opened and the professor stumbled backwards into it and quickly made to close the door, but, as it was but centimeters from doing so and sealing him in, it simply froze. Not long after a single jade eye appeared in the small crack as the door began to creep open. "You… you can't take it. You don't know the secrets of the device."
"What I know is that my master has asked me to retrieve it for him, and it will be retrieved for him." Reaching down, Mara took a firm grasp upon the box and tried to yank it away, but the elder Ardina persisted.
"You don't understand. This thing perverts; it corrupts. I cannot let this fall into the wrong hands."
"And I don't care. I have a job to do." The two tussled out of the fresher in a tugging match to regain control of the box, but a swift boot to the stomach and powerful kick helped ensured that Mara Jade was the victor. Wrinkling her nose in resentment, she reached to her waist and withdrew a blaster pistol which she trained on the professor's heart. "And now my job will be done."
"No, please you mustn't let its dark knowledge- -" Before he could finish, Contantin Ardina felt a swift pain fill his chest and surge through every end of his body. He gasped to breathe, but nothing would come. And then, in a cowering heap, the life drained from his body. He was gone.
Mara re-holstered her blaster on the inside of her cloak and then took the box in both hands and flipped open the lid. Her nostrils flared and eyes narrowed in a deadly gaze as all she saw upon opening was an empty indentation upon the fabric casing. Throwing the box to ground, she clenched her fists and in a silent, almost unobservable anger, watched as it shattered into splinters. That was messy, Jade, she thought, her eyes lifting now to the professor's body. Too damned messy. The old man was playing you the whole time, even until the end. Now Ardina's dead, my plan of escape is gone with the ship leaving the station and worst of all, my hunt turned up a sham. The holocron's gone.
The spraynet bundle twisted and rolled upon the floor as Craeldo struggled against it, pushing out and trying to break through but to no avail. The Rodian let out a snort of protest and starting kicking spastically against his confines. "Someone get me out of this blasted netting! I'm claustrophobic!"
"One moment please," came Dorm's rumbling mechanical 'voice' from the other side of the engine room, a fusioncutter in hand. The Vurk extended his index finger and activated the device, the plasma cutting beam flaring to life. "Now do not move. I must be very careful."
Crae's eyes widen as he watched the torch approach and began kicking and flailing again. "Careful!? You'll be cutterless! I don't want you using that thing around me! Ya gotta have another way to get me out of here without a fusioncutter! Can't you just rip the stupid thing or something!?"
"Hmm, well then, I hadn't thought of thought." A curious look crossed Dormanin's face as he disengaged the cutter, placed it in his tool belt and took the netted bundle up into his powerful arms. Placing both hands in the top center of the spraynet, he gritted his teeth and pulled outwards with all of his strength, letting out a roar as the net was divided between his two parting hands and Craeldo spilled out onto the floor. Dorm reached down and took the hand of his friend, currently laying on his shoulders with his head on the ground and legs folded back so that they laid over it, helped to unfold him and lift him back to his feet.
"Well, it certainly feels good to be out of there." Stretching each of his limbs and limbering up, Craeldo cracked his neck and smiled up at the towering engineer. "Many thanks, Dorm, ol' boy."
"It is my pleasure, Crae. Are you unharmed?"
"Yeah, just a little stiff. Thanks."
With the current problem resolved, Crae winked and gave Dorm a two finger salute before starting to turn away to join the captain who had been heading to the bridge, though before he could take a handful of steps, the lights began to flicker. Much to their surprise, an electrical panel burst on the far side of the engine room, blue bolts of energy dancing around control panels, lights and energy conduits across the ship as soon engines, shields, weapons, lighting, life support, artificial gravity, and the ship's comm systems shut down.
Dorm reached down to his belt and withdrew a small work light and illuminated the darkness, looking first to Leda who was beginning to float into the air, throwing a fit on the far end of the engine room, and then to Craeldo who sat there in abandonment as he drifted towards the ceiling.
"Captain, this is Abras. It seems as though our friends have a pair of heavy ion canons at their disposal.." Dorm and Crae glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. "All systems are down, but I'm doing what I can to get life support and the gravs back on line."
"Yeah, you do that, Abras. Dorm, see what you can do on your end."
"As you wish, Captain."
"Oh, and sir?"
There was almost a sound of pain in his voice as Marikk responded. "Please tell me you have good news."
"I'm afraid not, Captain." Abras paused momentarily, gathering his courage. "Shortly before we were hit, sensors picked up another incoming ship. It was the Mist Hunter."
" All right, folks, the shockball game is about to begin and the visiting team should be in the arena soon. Be on your guards."
An almost simultaneous chorus of acknowledgments rang out over the comlink. Swimming through the air as best he could, looking like a dying Opee Sea-killer, Dormanin made his way to a power junction to see what he could do to get systems up and the Nova Hound on its way.
Like predatory Corellian slice-hounds circling their prey, the two bounty ships circled the disabled freighter, drawing ever closer which each revolution. The hourglass shaped Void Prowler came in first alongside the Port airlock and docked via its own airlock which had been artificially grafted into the organic curves of the Surronian assault ship's neck.
The Dashade hunter Helt Darquc worked quickly at the control console as he extended the boarding tube and made the necessary connections while his Phuii associate moved about and collected the arms full of weapons they would use. Much to his disgust, the Dashade watched as the Mist Hunter circled once more around them and the mercenary ship and then made its way to dock on the Starboard side of the freighter. The site of that crescent ship made his blood boil.
"What is the meaning of this, Darquc," a voice soon demanded over the Comm. "How did you possibly beat us here? How did you even know where to come?"
"I guess I'm just the better hunter, Gand. As they say, first slice-hound to the kill to gets the meal. I disabled the ship. I got here first. This target's mine."
"In your warped little dreams. You piggybacked off of and followed Zuckuss here and overtook the ship while we were docked at the station. We were here first, thus this ship is rightfully ours." There was a pause. "No, such arguments are foolish. Seeing as Zuckuss and 4-LOM and Helt and Satoorn are all able bodied hunters, with the possible exception of the last, and both seem to have relatively valid claims, whichever of can claim the old man first will show who the best truly is. That is how it should be…among honorable hunters."
Darquc said nothing as he narrowed his eyes and glowered. Marching forward, he snatched up his disruptor pistol, attached it to his waist, and then took his CR-1 Blaster Canon and a bandolier of glop grenades from young Satoorn as he made his way towards the airlock and the awaiting Nova Hound.
This ship is just full of surprises, Mara quipped to herself. After the ship had shut down all of the sudden, it took the crew only a matter of five minutes to get some of their systems up and running again. The corridor in which she stood was bathed in the red glow of emergency lights every few meters, though she tried to stick to the dark lengths between them, and she soon also found it easier to breath. Apparently they've gotten the artificial gravity, life support, and at least some of the emergency systems activated. Well, this should make my going slightly easier.
There had been a couple close calls when she had searched the second floor staterooms around the Professor's for signs of her query, but thankfully the shadows provided her ample cover. Having found nothing there, she climbed down the lift shaft and made her way to the bottom, fourth, deck and the staterooms there.
She kept her footsteps light and inaudible as she slid along the wall, her cloak drawn back from her body except from over her face, and made her way to the stateroom farthest away from the lift tube, planning to work her way back towards it so that she could make a quick escape. Earlier she had overheard from one of the crew that bounty hunters had been the ones who had disabled and then boarded the ship. Mara did not know who had hired the hunters, nor did she care at this point. That fact could be found out at another time, but for now their presence was quite welcomed. Besides having them as a cover for the death of the professor, she could commandeer one of their ships to make her escape. Though there were a few foul turn of events in the beginning, things were working quite to her benefit now.
One by one she began to go through each of the six lower staterooms, some showing signs of occupation, though currently vacant; others not. As she made her way towards the third from last room, something pulled at her mind. She sensed something… someone within. Placing her hand at her side to ready her weapons, she telekinetically parted the stateroom's doors slowly and cautiously slinked inside. Unlike the others, which had two emergency lights within to illuminate the chamber, this one was completely dark. It was all too apparent that she was being led into a trap, but undoubtedly whoever it was had planned on the presence of a bounty hunter and not the Emperor's hand. There was a swift movement behind her, and Mara spun around to find a cloaked silhouette blocking her only means of exit.
Reaching to her hip, she unclipped her saber and pressed down on the activator as the magenta blade burst forth with a snap-hiss. With the new source of illumination, she discovered the identity of her opponent, a cold-eyed Quarren in a high collared cloak. The being narrowed its eyes and smiled wickedly, movement seen under his cloak as he quickly withdrew a sword from beneath, parted his covering and stood at the ready in response to her weapon. The blade of his sword almost seemed to glow in the light of her saber.
"Well, well, then. It seems these are no ordinary guests we have on our ship," the Quarren remarked, taking one hand from his sword, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his cloak, withdrawing the crystalline pyramid from within and holding it out in open palm. "I assume you've come for this."
"The Professor's Sith Holocron!"
"Indeed, the very same. At Captain Marikk's request, Professor Ardina gave it to me for safe keeping, and safe it shall remain." He replaced it inside the pocket, placed his hand back on the hilt of his sword, and began to unfurl his tentacles and held them rather stiffly. "If you want it…. come and claim it…Jedi."
"There's one mistake in your analysis, Quarren. Not all beings who carry a lightsaber… are Jedi!" As the last breath of her comment passed her lips, she lunged forward as sword and saber came clashing together in a flashing display. The fact that his weapon had not been rendered in two caught Mara off guard at first, but her surprise was soon replaced by a sly smile, mimicked in kind by Sillek, as she made her next move and pulled the locked blades apart.
The duel for possession of the holocron had begun.
