Chapter 2: Ord Mantell
"Oowahm! Check it out! That's a Chiss transport arriving. You don't see many of them outside of their imperial space. "
Staring out of the large hanger bay windows had become pretty much the only hobby Neris had these days. She spent most of her time perched on the wide metal sill, gazing out into the endless night of space. The bay at least had the illusion of openness, big enough for a large freighter and with ceilings as high as a three story building. It was home, for the moment, as was the hulking piece of crap CT-200 tucked away in one corner. It was waiting to be re-fitted, or rather, the money to pay for the re-fitting.
The blue haired girl was beginning to go stir crazy. They had been stranded on the cosmic doughnut of Purgatory station for three weeks, and there wasn't any sign of them leaving soon. There was no work here that wouldn't land them in a holding cell, and they couldn't even spare the cash for a trip to the planet. Nothing worse than pirates without a ship, she supposed.
Oowahm, her Jawa cohort and chief engineer of their fledgling band, scurried away from the unattended shuttle he was "harvesting" to catch a glimpse of the transport out the window. This distraction was good timing, he wagered, secreting the small metal items he'd purloined into one of the pockets of his voluminous coarse burlap robes. There were only so many jawa aboard the station at this time, and people had a tendency of blaming them (in a most unfair and biased manner of course) for the sabotage resulting from stealing important parts from operational ships. Naturally, this was their own fault; they kept the ones in production under such tight wraps, a fellow with an eye for the fine machines had to resort to "examining" the working ones in the hanger. Still, Captain Artera would flay him alive if he ended up in trouble.
"So that's a Chiss cruiser, huh? Never seen one of the civie ones before, but those clawcraft are wicked amazing!"
From working with non-jawa so long, Oowahm's trader speak was better than most, though he couldn't help a squeak or two of his native language in excitement. Careful to make certain no one was looking, he levitated up onto the ledge beside his humanoid crew mate. Being a jawa was enough of a stretch for any stations regulations; he didn't even think Purgatory would allow a force-sensitive jawa to remain aboard.
"I heard about this guy. The two fellas who run the station were talking about the grapevine that the Chiss had an eye to open business on Ord Mantel. You know what that means; anywhere those blokes go, they dominate. That Rodian bigshot's gotta be unhappy about this."
Explaining the simple politics to Oowahm took little thought, and Neris was halfway zoning as she continued to watch the Chiss transport passing behind the overlay of her reflection in the glass. The sensation thus caught her entirely off guard, as usual. It was like fire, like electricity shooting through her. Her sapphirine eyes widened for a moment at the bizarre montage that suddenly fell into place; the mirror of Oowahm and herself on the ledge blending with the scene outside in space. Something connected, and then it was gone. Oowahm shivered.
"That happen often?" he turned his keen golden gaze from the window to her.
"Not often," Neris replied, still a little shaky, "but when it does, it usually means something big is gonna happen."
"Like the two of you magically making the credits for our modifications manifest from the depths of the space you're staring so intently into?"
Both pirates started at the sound of the rich, confident voice. Facing the owner with guilty looks, they beheld their captain, Alaya Artera, looking stunning as usual; and with a raised hairless brow ridge in their direction. The exotic violet twi'lek, with her sleek steel blue jumpsuit and mid-calf Corellian leather boots, looking like she would be more at home in a salon or upscale café than a hanger bay. But the lines that formed the attractive angular face were business hard, and her eyes held the no-nonsense hue of gray. She lounged against the ship Oowahm had been tinkering with earlier, and he had an uneasy suspicion that she had guessed the full length of both their misdemeanors today. He was grateful his very bad poker face was hidden beneath his hood, and even more grateful when Neris interjected first.
"Actually, I think I just got an idea for that money," the blue-haired girl inclined her head towards the window behind them, and the transport slowly sinking out of view.
At about the same time that the pirates were observing his arrival, Von Lormac got his first good glimpse of Ord Mantel. The planet lived up to its reputation; it did shine. Half of the planet was a veritable graveyard for all manner of spaceships that were damaged beyond repair. The Junkyard Lords, as the powerful landlords of the vast dump were called, paid well for their internment here and were in turn paid well for the scrap parts foraged from their metal bones. The shimmering dichotomy of silver and the red-brown of rust was given an even more unearthly sheen by a embracing ceiling of atmosphere. This was artificially generated by the sporadic arcane-looking pylons of complex biospheric technology not unlike Csilla's own. On the ground it was a thriving hub of salvage trade and lawless haven of organized crime; but from space it had all the mystique of a lost civilization.
The other side of Ord, was glittering in an entirely different light. Cities emerged from the heaps of scrap like gaudy sunbeams breaking through clouds. A neon glow emanated from these metropolises, vivid enough to be visible from orbit. What wasn't encroached upon entirely by the junkyard was speckled in patchworks of urban development and casino towns, a tacky attempt at emulating the bright center of the universe that was Coruscant. From softer cool hues like blue and purple to loud acid greens and yellows and garish reds and oranges, the other half of the third Ord planet was decked out like a perpetual birthday party for a very spoiled child. Indeed, it was the playground of the spoiled children of the galaxy, and Von intended to run that. His straight spine was tingling with anticipation, but the only outward show was a sigh of satisfaction; a sigh cut short by-
"So, boss, about that jewelry, I was thinking a necklace. Cause I have tons of bracelets and earrings, and brooches just aren't popular these days. I was thinking one of those natural green jadeites from the moons of Eota, to match my eyes, and set in –"
"Quiet, Lain Tee."
Von silenced his companion to court with a mere flick of authoritative tone, his voice the contradiction of a gentle whip. He enjoyed the ability to exercise this talent freely with his employees, and the immediate results it obtained. It was an almost paternal power. He put his larger hand over her smaller one, admiring the similarity of shades.
"I want to enjoy this moment," he explained, "The moment when my endeavors here truly begin. If you let me enjoy that, you'll get a necklace, and earrings."
The delighted look on her face as she resolutely pursed her lips confirmed that Von had found the "off" button for his temperamental little star. As the last passenger other than his entourage had been dropped off light years ago, and Taru maintained her ever-silent vigilance, he was left to contemplate the foreign concept of "destiny" in peace.